Chapter 45 #3
Atem made a sound as he stopped, putting his hands to his hips, and glaring at the door. “I do not understand you humans. How can you say something like that so easily?”
“Love at first sight is a ludicrous concept. Lust? Attraction? Sure. But love requires understanding and time and experience and… and… and just more. You can’t possibly know by just looking.”
“Maybe you can’t,” he said, finally casting her a look. “But that is how the domini have mated for thousands upon thousands of years. It has never failed us. Perhaps your eyes just aren’t as sensitive as ours.”
Scarlet winced. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“I’m insulting your culture. That’s not what I intended at all.”
“You are human,” he said, understanding in his tone. “So, perhaps you won’t know, but if your mate is domini, then they will know. They will tell you. You can rest assured of that.”
Scarlet made a sound that wasn’t quite agreement, but she let the subject drop, clearly feeling bad for inadvertently disrespecting the domini culture and traditions.
Peony was fixing her with a stern look before miming ‘later’ when Scarlet gave her an apologetic glance.
No doubt, Peony was going to give her the same talking to about instincts that Holly just got.
Not that Holly even really needed it. She understood very well now that the domini were a different species and that they thought about things differently. It was one of those things that was easy to state but difficult to internalize.
She smiled at Atem who had returned to his pacing. It was very different to how Temnavi had behaved when he acted as guardian for Peony when she had been claimed. But that difference could easily be ascribed to Atem being a fully grown adult.
But despite his restlessness, she didn’t actually sense any anger from him. Only protectiveness. Like when the good guy in an action flick was preparing to defend his house and family from bad guys. He didn’t act with malice or anger, but with fierceness and determination.
He wasn’t her owner; he was her protector. It was a subtle difference, but it was that subtlety that marked the difference between what would have annoyed her and what she was willing to accept as a gesture of love.
All the while he paced, conversation flowed on around her.
They talked about going to the Coalition meeting and about making a case for contacting Earth.
They talked about where the Coalition was based and what it was like.
They talked about Valorii and how she had been set to work doing hard, menial, unskilled labor for her crime of attacking Holly and Hattie.
How Brava had left Calvitorum in shame. That was Holly’s favorite topic.
She wasn’t nervous at all until the door chimed announcing Romival’s arrival. The moment she heard it, her belly clenched, and her heart stuttered with excitement.
He was here. It was time.
She and the other girls shared a smile as they wiggled excitedly on the sofa. Atem, shoulders pulled back, face serious, like he really was defending her from someone come to steal her away, approached the door and gestured for it to open.
On the other side, Romival stood in all his beautiful glory.
He had his own traditional attire to wear.
For a domin, whose role was that of protector, camocloth – fabric that changed along with a domini’s skin for maximum camouflage – was common.
It was a pricey fabric, so it was either reserved for the actual military or special occasions like this.
Military men would wear it in the military style.
Romival did not. He was her glorious wizard in full.
His hair was down, only the strands at his temples tied behind his head.
The camocloth had been fashioned into a robe, it and his skin both having taken on the off-white of the hallway.
It was to symbolize his role as the hunter and claimer – a title that, these days, was more traditional than literal.
It still made him look so hot. She couldn’t wait to peel away that robe to get to the delicious body she knew was waiting underneath.
Hers from this day forward and forever more.
“Why have you come here?” Atem asked, his voice hard, a growl threading through the words, as though he didn’t already know. But it was a tradition as much as ‘who gives away this woman’ in an Earth wedding.
Romival faced him without backing down. “I am Romival, First Scholar of Turv. I come to retrieve my mate.”
“You dare to claim one of my clan? You have not proven yourself worthy. I will not surrender her to so weak a domin.”
“Then, I challenge you to prove my worth.”
“I accept. To the sparring grounds.” A smirk crossed Atem’s face. Not one of arrogance, but a determined joy that Holly noticed he only found in fighting.
Atem pushed Romival out of the doorway, keeping his body between him and the others. That didn’t stop him from giving Holly a burning look that sent shivers all over her body.
However, with Atem between them, he could do nothing but turn and lead the way out of their room and down to the sparring/training grounds on one of the subcanopy balconies.
The girls surrounded Holly, pressing in against her, sweeping her along as they giggled and remarked loudly about how handsome and strong Romival looked.
Holly’s face flushed, predictably, but she also couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she got caught up in the excitement of the moment.
The training ring made Holly think of a cool, high tech, mini gladiatorial arena.
The circular floor was controlled by a holopanel that could change it from a traditional sand pit to a softer, modern mat floor to a hard, merciless stone.
It could also summon weapon racks that had everything from basic wooden staffs to complex, modern gun-like things – she only guessed they were guns based on their general shape since she hadn’t seen them used.
For the claiming fight, however, there were no weapons. It was all done old fashioned – instinctive, primal, hand-to-hand.
Holly really didn’t like violence, but somehow the thought of her lover going bare knuckle brawler for her was so hot.
She knew that neither of them would actually be hurt, and she knew that, despite Atem already having proved himself capable of beating Romival, the point at the end of this was for him to take her away.
So, there was no real way to lose, and therefore, she didn’t have to feel bad about the fight about to take place.
Unlike the sparring sessions that Atem had taken Temnavi through when he claimed Peony, this was a real fight. There was no call to start, no official referee or anything, but the blows that landed were real and hard and merciless.
They came at each other, fangs and claws bared, the moment they got into position in the ring – which had been set to sand for added difficulty. Atem was grinning, because of course he was, but Romival’s expression was set and serious.
And Romival was actually holding his own.
Holly had seen Atem fighting at full strength. In video, not in person. She knew that he wasn’t giving it his all, but he was fighting seriously and Romival was keeping up.
Romival’s fighting style was careful, exacting.
No wasted movements, no extra flair. She could practically see the gears in his head turning as he struck, blocked, and dodged.
The first time Atem’s claws caught in his robe, it immediately broke apart, only being kept in place by the tie around his waist. And then he used that moment when Atem’s claws were caught in the fabric to turn back, slamming his foot into his Dominani’s chest.
Atem grunted, falling back a few steps, but his grin widened as he immediately recovered and closed the distance again.
Atem’s fighting style was fluid, and he tended to match – either to compliment or contrast – whoever he was fighting.
Where Romival was being careful and exacting, he was bringing rapid slashes and kicks, trying to back him up and take him down with wild, almost feral movements that Romival kept deflecting.
Only now he was doing it shirtless. Holly was a bit confused to see a leather cord around his neck with a small, quartz ring dangling from the end. He had never worn that before.
But her confusion was quickly forgotten when Atem landed the first blow. The grazing of his claws down Romival’s bicep drew three lines of dark red blood that immediately trailed down Romival’s arm to fall in thick drops on the sand.
She gasped, but Romival didn’t even react. He recovered in an instant, using Atem’s proximity to slash his other hand up, trying to catch Atem’s wrist.
He failed, but it was a close thing.
No one realistically expected Romival to win.
Atem might not have to worry about anyone challenging him for his position any longer, but he was still expected to defend his people, with his bare claws if necessary, and he was still a young male in his prime.
But the sheer ferocity and determination that Romival brought to the battle still provided a challenge.
It would probably be more impressive if Holly’s weak, human eyes could actually keep up with what was happening.
Romival’s movements were quick, sharp, snaps.
Like individual freeze frames where she didn’t actually see the transition from one pose to the next.
Atem’s movements, by contrast, were continuous, fluid, and practically blurred.
Too quick for her to see, her mind barely able to piece together what happened after the fact.
“Wow,” Peony breathed at her side. She had chosen Atem’s adoptive son as her guardian seeing as how no one would be able to defeat her mate, so they hadn’t actually seen Atem taking a claiming fight seriously like this.
Though Atem had defeated his entire council at his Hortii Kristivar, that number, at the time, hadn’t included Romival, so it was the first time they saw them fight. The sight was breathtaking for both Holly and Peony.