Chapter 23 #3
“If you’re here to ask me to release a prisoner for one of your matchmakings, the answer is no,” Kronos said preemptively in an imperative tone in lieu of greeting. “Whoever you want to pair with one of my wards will have to come and settle on Molvi with their match.”
“That’s exactly the goal!” Kayog said with the excess enthusiasm that always destabilized grumpy candidates like this one.
I repressed a smirk as we closed the distance with the impressive male. My mate could be quite the irreverent jerk when he wanted. He particularly excelled at putting people back in their place with a smile and a kind word, which made it sting even more.
Despite our very respectable heights, Kronos towered over us.
Human women—and females from many other species—systematically fanned themselves in the presence of Obosians.
They were indeed gorgeous species. Just like Amreth, Kronos was extremely easy on the eye, and his many piercings—deemed trophies and signs of status for his people—only added to his dangerous charm.
“And hello, Lord Aramon,” my mate said in an overly sweet voice. “As you’ve apparently guessed, I am Kayog Voln—though I would prefer you simply call me Kayog. And this is my lovely wife, Linsea Voln, who I understand you’ve met before.”
He scrunched his face with embarrassment to have thus been called out over his rudeness in not properly greeting us upon our arrival.
“I have indeed. Welcome to Molvi, Linsea, Kayog,” he said begrudgingly, nodding at each of us in turn, before staring at Kayog. “You may call me Kronos.”
My interactions with him at the time of his rescue had been cordial.
But Obosians tended to be a little distant.
Some perceived their attitude as being haughty.
However, my frequent interactions with them in my line of work had made me realize that it was merely their tradition of holding oneself in proper form and decorum that gave the misleading impression that they were snobs and thought themselves superior to others.
“Excellent!” Kayog said with the same enthusiasm that was clearly getting under Kronos’s skin. “We have much to discuss. Serious matters.”
“Then let’s go to my office. This way,” Kronos said in a grumpy tone.
I wanted to cut this short. That male was as gorgeous as he was obnoxious. And frankly, I was getting fed up with making the same pointless sales pitch to self-righteous fools too stupid to realize they were in fact the ones unworthy of my daughter.
However, something shifted in Kayog’s attitude as the Hell Lord led us into the office of his spectacular mansion. Shock, excitement, and triumph swelled within him.
No fucking way?!
I cast a worried look at my mate only to have him give me a subtle nod with as wide a smile as his beak allowed.
My mind reeled at this most improbable outcome.
A part of me wanted to rejoice at the thought that we had found our daughter’s soulmate.
Lord Kronos belonged to one of the wealthiest and most influential noble houses of Vargos—the Obosian homeworld.
They would have the resources and determination to fight tooth and nail to have a member of their family cleared of any wrongdoing.
However, that same elite status would make them even less likely to consider any kind of association with a convicted criminal.
A tough battle lay ahead.
My gaze roamed over the magnificent property as we headed for the giant floor to ceiling patio doors that led to the entrance of the mansion.
Every Hell Lord built their personal residence at the top of the mountain bordering the far edges of their Sectors.
They were sprawling dwellings with multi-level balconies, natural waterfalls, and breathtaking views of the landscape of the planet.
Countless deadly traps disguised as exotic plants or rivers kept their home safe from any intruders should the inmates beat foolish enough to try to escape.
We followed him into his office, as elegantly decorated as the rest of his mansion. I could totally picture my baby living in such a place: peaceful, classy, and elegant.
“Have a seat,” Kronos said, gesturing at a comfortable set of couches in the seating area next to the patio door onto one of the many terraces of his domain.
“Thank you,” I said with a grateful smile.
Kayog and I settled on the large couch across from the chair he headed towards. To both our delight, the back support was set at a convenient enough height to accommodate our wings. It was one of the benefits of visiting other winged species.
After politely declining his offer of refreshments, we immediately dove into the reason for our visit.
“We’re here on a mission to stop major criminal activities and protect innocents who have been seriously wronged,” I said.
I smiled when he instantly perked up at those words. When it came to upholding the law, Obosian were ridiculously predictable.
“You have my attention,” Kronos said.
“What we are about to share with you will be shocking. Please hear us out with an open mind,” I said, bracing for what would follow. “A very important member of your society, Judge Wuras, has become corrupt and needs to be stopped.”
Kronos jumped to his feet, his lumiak surging from his fingertips and the electrical tendrils crawling around his hands as he glared at us in outrage.
Warriors of his species could invoke this energy at will.
At a lower level, it could zap someone into obedience like a Taser.
But at maximum strength, it could literally reduce you to cinders.
“You dare?!” Kronos exclaimed.
“Peace, Kronos,” Kayog said in a soothing voice, his palm raised in an appeasing gesture.
“You can see souls. Do you see any deception in ours?” I asked in a similar tone, before gesturing at his chair. “Please, sit.”
Teeth clenched, he doused his lumiak and reluctantly resumed his seat.
The next half hour turned into the most infuriating experience in my life.
The stupidly stubborn male systematically rejected the thought that one such as he could be paired with a convict.
No matter how many times we explained that Malaya had been framed, he couldn’t accept that one of their top, highly respected judges could possibly be corrupt.
More than once, I had to stop Kayog from drop-kicking him. But I also wanted to peck the fuck out of his pretty eyes, tear off his piercings, and shove them up his rear end to keep company to the self-righteous stick he had stuffed in there.
How can that judgmental moron possibly be my daughter’s soulmate?
“Fine. If you cannot be bothered to save the life of your soulmate or assist in righting the terrible wrongs committed against innocents, another will show more courage,” Kayog said at last in an icy tone that even had me stiffening.
“Excuse me?” Kronos said, in just as cold a voice.
“You may be fine with letting an innocent be thrown in with the foulest criminals in the galaxy, but we’re not going to let Malaya die. Thankfully, Lord Amreth will take her,” Kayog said in a disdainful tone.
Kronos recoiled and stared at my mate with a flabbergasted expression.
“Amreth?! Amreth has consented to such a union?”
“We approached him and a few others we knew could potentially be more… flexible before meeting with Malaya,” I said, invoking every ounce of my willpower to remain diplomatic.
“We wanted to be certain that we could provide her with a few options. But once we met her, my husband got a hunch that she was yours. So naturally, we came to you first after that discussion.”
It wasn’t quite accurate, but close enough.
“But since you cannot be bothered—” Kayog added.
“Do not test me, Temern,” Kronos growled.
“I’m not testing you, Obosian,” Kayog replied in just as stern a tone. “We do not have time for you to sort out your inner conflicts. In two days, Malaya will be sent to Dakon’s playground. You know perfectly well that she will not survive there a week. So if you won’t, I will save her.”
This time, Kronos flinched upon hearing the Sector she would be sent to. Dakon only accepted the foulest miscreants. Life expectancy of his prisoners rarely exceeded a few days, or a few weeks. Sending Malaya there was a death sentence.
“What’s the point of giving her to Amreth if they’re not soulmates?” Kronos challenged. “I thought you only performed perfect matches.”
“So far, I have. But if breaking my perfect streak is the price to save this sweet woman, then I’ll gladly pay it,” Kayog said, lifting his beak defiantly.
“Malaya and Amreth may not be soulmates, but their personalities are well-aligned and compatible. They will have a happy enough life together. Compared to the others, he is the best alternative match.”
“Tharmok take you and your threats,” Kronos snarled.
At that moment, I realized we had won. He just needed an extra nudge to get him over the finish line.
“They’re not threats, Lord Kronos,” I said in a gentle voice while reaching for Kayog’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is our only other option to save Malaya. Would it help if I told you that all Prime Mating Agency unions come with a six-month trial period?”
That caught his interest. After a few more back and forths, he finally caved in, scrunching his face as if he’d bitten into something foul.
“Fine. She has six months to prove you right. But may the gods protect her if she proves false,” he grumbled.
“She won’t,” Kayog said with triumphant confidence.
“We shall see,” Kronos replied.
Ifelt dizzy walking through endless rows of wedding dresses with Tala pulling me in every direction.
As a Temern, I had never worn clothes, so shopping for them wasn’t particularly familiar to me.
The number of choices, styles, sizes, and level of demure or spiciness overwhelmed me.
And yet, I was determined to see my daughter have as perfect a wedding as possible under the circumstances.
As we had to rush the entire process before she would be sent to Dakon’s Sector, her family wouldn’t be able to attend. In truth, Kronos could still back out of this agreement if he perceived her soul to be deceitful on the day she arrived.
It crushed me that I wouldn’t be able to attend the ceremony.
An urgent mission had popped up, forcing me to go handle it.
But if I couldn’t be there, I would do everything else a mother would want to provide for her child’s special day.
As she would arrive on Molvi wearing nothing more than her prisoner jumpsuit, I refused to let her exchange vows in such an abhorrent outfit.
After literally going nuts trying to find my bearings in the sea of options, it suddenly dawned on me that I should narrow my search down to something that would be meaningful to Malaya.
Her file revealed that she was of Filipino descent, and that she had undergone quite a bit of training in their traditional dances.
That led me to assume she might want a traditional dress for her culture.
Tala all but dragged me to the right section. As she shared a similar height and body type as my daughter, she gladly volunteered as a model. Although Tala had a darker complexion than my daughter, it still gave me a good idea of what the dresses would look like against Malaya’s light brown skin.
My jaw dropped when Tala stepped out of the changing room in a stunning, modern take on a baro’t saya gown.
The baro’t—which was the top of the dress—boasted a gorgeous floral lace embroidered on the most luxurious pina fabric.
It formed a rather sexy bustier that didn’t cover her belly button.
The same flowery dentelle adorned the edges of the oversized butterfly shoulders of the baro’t.
The full-length skirt—the saya—was adorned with the same lacework in strategic places, and an insane slit ran up to the middle of the thigh. It was scandalously sexy and unbelievably flattering. I could picture how breathtaking Malaya would be wearing it.
Tala struck a few poses in a flaunting and flirtatious fashion that had me chuckling.
“The look on your face reflects what I’m feeling inside. That’s the one,” Tala said with conviction.
I clicked my beak with hesitation. It was indeed a breathtaking dress. “Is it too suggestive with the exposed belly?” I asked warily.
“Pfft! Are you kidding? In case you hadn’t noticed, Malaya’s body is almost as hot as mine, and she has a belly piercing!” Tala exclaimed as if it should have been self-evident.
I burst out laughing at the playful boast as she wiggled her hips in a way reminiscent of belly dancers.
“That Obosian mate of hers will drool his horned little head off when he sees it. You know how crazy they are about piercings. Our girl needs to flaunt the heck out of it.
“Right,” I said, scrunching my face. “That piercing can only further underline the fact that they are perfectly aligned, even in this. Still, a mom doesn’t necessarily want to hear about how males drool over her daughter.”
Tala snorted. “Girl, have you forgotten that your soon to be son-in-law is a freaking incubus? What do you think he’s going to do to her? You know their tongues extend up to a foot, right?”
“Maker! Tala!” I exclaimed, slapping my hands over my ears. “I do not need to hear this.”
My friend laughed, her eyes brimming with an unrepentant glimmer.
“It’s only fair. You think I didn’t also freak out when my own two kids got old enough to start getting frisky?” She glanced down at herself and ran both hands down the laced fabric of her skirt. “Poor Kayog is going to lose his shit when he sees her at the wedding. Dads can be such jealous fools.”
I chuckled. “He might. But then again, he might simply be relieved. Either way, I will take him being the jealous-possessive dad over committing murder because Kronos is being a stubborn idiot.”
“Amen to that!”
With the dress secured, we spent the next couple of hours finding the perfect shoes, jewelry, and all the sexy underwear, lingerie, and nightgowns Malaya could possibly need to seduce her stuck up soulmate.
There was no way I was shipping the dreadful stuff I had found in her drawers when I went to gather a few suitcases of basic necessities for her.
Tala had called them ‘granny panties’ and I couldn’t have agreed more.
My daughter would marry and live in style.