Parallel Attraction Page 30

  "I acted alone."

  Jared sat up in his chair. "I loved Kelsey. If you wanted to protect me, then you should not have stolen her from me. All these years, all this time . . ." Jared sputtered for a moment, dropping his head into his hands. A terrible wave of grief crashed over him, and for a brief moment he recalled sitting with her long ago by the lake, when they'd been on the brink of his awakening.

  "You have found her?" Aldorsk asked, his voice solemn.

  Jared dropped his hands away from his face. "Yes, I have found her. I might never have done so, if it were up to you. How could you think that was protection? What sort of protection steals love? Takes my heart, where it's beating in my chest, and yanks it out of me . . . ?"

  "You were young, so very young. Your awakening was a delicate time, what with the need for an heir—"

  Jared slammed his fist down onto the armrest of the data portal. "A need that remains unmet to this very day!"

  "Looking back, I have come to reconsider my decision, to worry that it wasn't in your long-term best interests. I have had cause to reflect upon that."

  "State your meaning." Jared ground his back teeth together, the swell of anger almost more than he could bear.

  "I believe you never married Thea because your heart recognized that another waited for you. Even if you did not remember, you knew it intuitively."

  "Marrying Thea has never felt right," he agreed softly.

  Aldorsk nodded gravely. "The memory tie between you and Kelsey Wells was more powerful than even I realized. I apologize, my king, and beg your forgiveness. I was wrong—but I did it because I cared for you."

  "You cared only for the succession."

  "No," Aldorsk answered quietly, "I cared for you. I have no sons, as you well know. You have always been like my own, Jareshk. And every father makes his share of mistakes."

  Jared felt his eyes sting, and found it impossible to remain bitter toward the man before him. "I have been an imperfect sovereign…and surrogate. I have failed you in many ways, Councilor. But you broke a part of me in this. And we may never see my cycle and produce the heir you've long wanted me to sire."

  "Perhaps by recovering your memories, there is hope?" Aldorsk asked, his own eyes shining with emotion.

  "Not with Thea, if that's the hope you mention."

  The councilor smiled sadly. "Even hiding your memories of Kelsey didn't change your heart toward your cousin. I have no illusions on that score."

  Jared slumped back in the data portal, suddenly exhausted by the volatile discussion. "Good. Then you will champion my marriage to Kelsey before the council," he said with a sigh. "It is the least that can be done."

  Aldorsk shook his head, confused. "You plan to—"

  "We are lifemated. Already. I need someone to speak for us in chambers today, to support our union."

  "There will be extreme opposition."

  Jared speared him with a glance. "And fervent support from my chief councilor."

  "You can expect nothing less from me."

  "Good," Jared said, finding that all his anger had vanished, replaced instead by determination. After all, nothing could bring back those lost years with Kelsey, and nothing—except perhaps time—could heal those missing memories.

  Right now, he had but one concern: to rally the elders to his side so they would formally sanction his union with Kelsey.

  Jared's fingers twitched against the arm of his portal chair. It was all he could do to remain in the seat and listen to the council have their say. They'd spoken one after another in turn now for nearly an hour, when all he wanted was to get married and set about the procreation they seemed so eager to describe. And describe and describe. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, glancing among the wavering holographic images of the elders, and wondered if the sizable bulge in his pants was visible all the way back on Refaria. Nothing quite like an intergalactic erection, he thought, shifting yet again in his seat while the elders discussed the particulars of his tricky sexuality in a heated volley of possibilities. He pressed a hand to his brow and forced himself to listen.

  After a few moments Dalne stepped forward, her manner as unassuming as ever. He'd have sworn she hated this process as much as he did. "My lord, it is just that we need an assurance of your line's succession." She extended her hands in a placating, calming gesture. "With this human woman and your looming infertility—"

  That was it. Enough was simply enough.

  "Looming infertility?" he bellowed at the youngest member of the council, nearly rising out of his seat as he did so. "Looming? I am thirty, Councilor Dalne. Young by any species' reckoning, and yet you've now exaggerated my problem into a state of such urgency that it is all but towering over me. Are you privy to aspects of my own body that I am not? For last I checked I was the one living in this form. Just as I'm the one who best comprehends its behaviors and my own complicated physiology."

  Dalne bowed her head, trembling visibly, but said nothing. Neither did the other objecting elders who had spoken so freely all morning. His furious gaze swept over each of them. Aldorsk gave him a small nod of encouragement— he had argued for a full fifteen minutes on Jared and Kelsey's behalf, but had been alone in his support of their marriage.

  "As I thought," Jared said. "None of you dares speculate on what might transpire between the sheets of my own bed." He heard a slight gasp, though from precisely which one of his councilors, he couldn't be sure. "I have made my choice, and you will marry us this afternoon."

  Dalne's eyes lifted, meeting his—she stood closest to him of all the elders. "You will disavow your line?" In her expression he saw a touch of rebellion as she dared to lock gazes with him for a beat longer than appropriate.

  "I am an exile. Not a king."

  "With all due respect"—her eyes remained trained on him, blazing in unexpected challenge—"I beg to differ."

  "If I fail to impregnate my wife, then the line will shift to the House of D'Ashani. Thea is younger than I, cycles like mad—since you seem hell-bent on studying our unique sexualities—and is sure to find a mate in the coming years. That is if Kelsey and I are not able to conceive."

  "So you've not yet begun to display early signs of your maturity?" Dalne ventured, and he had to admire her brave tenacity. "Is that what you are suggesting, my lord?"

  He blew out a frustrated breath. "We've had enough conversations in this chamber that you know better."

  "And if we were to estimate the time before full maturity has come upon you . . . would it be another five years?" Dalne pressed. "Or would even that be far too optimistic?"

  He growled a furious complaint at her frankness, but said nothing.

  Aldorsk and Dalne exchanged an uncomfortable glance, and then, with a slight bow of her head, Dalne retreated into the circle. Aldorsk took her place center stage, dropping his voice into a quiet, calming timbre. It was as if his mentor were speaking privately only to him. They'd reached an agreement between them. What was his adviser up to this time?

  "My lord, I would propose a simple solution. One that would accommodate both your heart's desire and your wishes, while protecting the succession." The older man paused, searching Jared's face for permission to continue. Jared waved him onward, though his belly clenched with dread at the prospect of what the man would say next.

  Aldorsk took another step closer toward Jared. "I propose that you marry this human, sealing your union with a formal acknowledgment by this council. She will bear your mark, the mating rights will be solidified, and she shall be queen of Refaria." But then he paused. It was a dreadful, horrible pause, and Jared knew that the man's next words would be equally dreadful.

  "Go on," Jared ground out.

  "But you will lie with Thea—not the queen—during your cycle. She will give you the needed heir and the problem will be solved."

  "Gods preserve us!" Jared shouted, throwing his head back with a bitter laugh. "Enough is enough."

  Aldorsk pressed on, ignoring his outburst. "If yo
u cycle with Thea, the succession is guaranteed. There will be no doubt as to your ability to conceive with your cousin."

  Jared leaned forward in the chair, leveling Aldorsk with his most regal gaze. "Elder Aldorsk," he said, making his words like a deathly vise about every gathered elder's throat, "I have a revelation that may startle this council, but it's time that the truth be made plain to every one of you gathered here. I have never—not once in all my days— cycled. Not once. Not even the first inkling of fever has overtaken me, not the briefest touch of our heat. Nothing."

  There was an audible intake of breath from someone, perhaps Dalne. "And so you see why I chose to mate based on, shall we say, other considerations. I am not your man. Nor, it would seem, the man you have long thought me to be. Although I am certainly still a man, one with all the inherent desires of my kind, and I have found the woman I love—the woman with whom I care to spend my days in exile." He stood and brushed his hands off, the meeting finished. "And so now you finally see. The line will fall to the D'Ashani," he announced with an air of finality. "Far better for Thea to mate with another, one who might actually give her children, than be with a man of looming infertility such as myself."

  Every elder gazed at him, shock and pain mingling in their expressions, but no one dared utter a word. With a defiant smile, he lifted his chin and declared, "Now, fair council, if you do not mind, I would like to marry my mate."

  It was always the unexpected small things that created tremendous snafus in any military operation. In the end, it wasn't the council's approval that interfered with their wedding day after all, nor any last-minute outbursts from his people, nor even the nervous stomach that had been plaguing Jared for the past hour. It was the simple fact that Kelsey had never been retina-scanned and approved for chambers transmission before today, and no matter what the techs attempted, the elders simply could not see her. Which made having Council Aldorsk perform the ceremony a trifle problematic.

  "Perhaps if the lady would take your seat," one of the techs suggested awkwardly. "We could attempt to scan her and then load the data by superseding yours, my lord."

  Jared shot an impatient look at the young man, who instantly fell silent. A flurry of other suggestions tumbled forth from the other two techs who labored diligently, but none of those ideas worked, either. Jared paced, waited, and generally lost his composure as time continued to progress. Kelsey waited patiently on the other side of the room, offering him that lovely wide smile of hers—the one that seemed to fill her whole face and light him up in the process— whenever he dared glance in her direction.

  He paced, shook his head, and didn't bother wondering exactly why he was so irritable about his pending nuptials. Fear wasn't an emotion he ever liked to acknowledge.

  When he was just about to throw his hands up and head for Las Vegas, a soft knock came on the chamber door. Then it slid open, and Thea filled the brightly lit doorway. The chamber always remained dark so that the transmissions could be viewed, and he had to squint as he looked at her. He covered the distance that separated them quickly, praying against any other obstacles that might further interrupt his wedding day.

  "May I speak with you, cousin?" She kept her voice low, her clear blue gaze darting about the room. He knew she was searching for Kelsey, but because of where his mate sat on a settee to the left of the entry, Thea couldn't see her.

  "Of course," he agreed, touching her arm affectionately.

  Her gaze shot about them nervously again. "Alone?"

  "They're working on the console unit right now. It's a good time," he said, and she nodded, then led the way back into the corridor outside.

  Now that Thea had him alone, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. Well, she had a general idea, but the words she'd rehearsed had fled her mind once Jared stood before her. She felt for the bouquet she'd gingerly tucked inside her jacket for safekeeping.

  Taking a deep breath, she began. "Cousin, I love you," she blurted. Jared's eyebrows narrowed sharply, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she pushed ahead. "I love you more than you will probably ever know, and I understand that you don't return those feelings."

  "Of course I love—"

  She placed a silencing hand on his forearm. "Please, cousin, let me finish."

  His mouth snapped shut and he nodded, folding his muscled forearms over his chest.

  This wasn't easy; it was even harder than she'd imagined as she'd trudged over from the guesthouse to the base. She continued, "You deserve to be happy, and I know that from the day you became king, your life has not been your own."

  He dropped his head, but she could still see the quiet pain that appeared in his eyes.

  "You have sacrificed a great deal for all of us, and we love you for it, Jared. We honor you for it. Therefore, it's only fair and right that, with all you've sacrificed in your lifetime, you should be allowed happiness in at least this one thing. So I want to give you my approval."

  "Why would you do this?" he asked hoarsely. "I don't understand."

  Even though her heart was breaking, she gave him a weak smile. "You are a tremendous leader and an even better man. I shouldn't have said what I did earlier at the guesthouse." Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the image of him before her. He wavered, and she blinked until the tears began to spill freely. "But the thing is, Jared, I always thought you'd be mine. Eventually. You were meant to be, for all those years, and I've had a hard time letting that hope go." She swallowed hard. "Letting you go."

  He opened his arms and without a word pulled her close, right up against his chest So close that she could feel the natural D'Aravnian heat that emanated from inside of him, the energy that resonated so very clearly with her own. She would never find another man, not on any planet, who could understand who and what she truly was like this one man did: her king, her beloved cousin, her friend. She cried against that strong chest, and one warm hand folded about her back. Wordless, soundless, they stood like that for a long while.

  At last, muffled against the top of her head, she heard a quiet pledge from him. Words she'd replay for years and years to come, would rehearse in her head and imagine ending differently. "I will always be yours, Thea," he promised gently. "Just not like you thought I'd be."

  He released her then, tenderly brushing one of her errant blond curls away from her cheek. But she wasn't finished yet. She slipped a hand inside her jacket and retrieved the bouquet. "Here, these are for you," she said hoarsely. "For your wedding day."

  "No, Thea, I brought you those," he tried to argue.

  "You should have them. To remember your mother today."

  "My mother—oh, the cessanaram." He lifted the bouquet to his nose, closing his eyes just as his younger self had done so many years ago. "I can't believe you remembered that."

  "I want you to be happy, Jared," she said, recalling the first day she'd met him as a young king all those years ago. She'd always believed he was meant to be hers, then and now. But he was even more deserving of happiness. She bowed her head and dropped to her knees. "My lord, this is my wedding gift to you. My…approval." She trembled there, kneeling before her king. Her hands grew clammy, the tears stung her eyes anew, and she waited. Waited for him to urge her back to her feet. But all she heard was silence, and still she waited—until there was a soft rustling sound. She glanced upward . . . and instead found Jared kneeling, eye-to-eye with her.

  "I predict," he whispered, gathering her hands within one of his, the flowers in his other, "that one day we will assemble here for your own marriage, to a man you love far more than you've ever thought to care for me."

  "So you're a mystic now?" She laughed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  "Times are changing. I feel it, and I feel it for you. too."

  She wanted to accept his words; she truly did. But deep in heart she believed the only thing different about today, the only thing that set it apart from every other day they'd fought this endless war, was that Jared Bennett had found lov
e—and it wasn't with her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  They were connected now, and in every conceivable way. Their hearts, their minds, their souls and spirits—every aspect of their selves was tuned to a unity of one. Even their bodies; Jared held Kelsey so closely in his arms they might as well have been in the privacy of his bedroom, not in front of eight council members and his best friend. She almost wondered if he feared she would bolt from the room. The tempo of his heart was frighteningly fast, his chest rising and falling with staccato breaths.

  When they'd first taken their place before the council, he'd sought their bond by shooting his energy toward her like one of Zeus's mighty thunderbolts, electrifying her on the spot. Damn the guy, but her hair had instantly stood on end with static electricity. He'd smiled at her sheepishly, and she'd quickly patted down the flyaway hairs (wishing for a cling-free sheet), and then the formal ceremony had begun.

  She was using the word formal pretty lightly, since she wore only a slinky red dress; sleeveless (well, spaghetti straps kept it from sliding off her body) and backless, it would have qualified as formal on, say, a cruise ship. Or at a New Year's Eve party. But it wasn't exactly a wedding dress by any usual standards of the imagination. Kelsey had borrowed it from Anika, who offered no explanations as to why—or how—an alien soldier came to have a postage stamp of an evening gown in her possession. Miraculously, the gauzy fluff of material had fit Kelsey perfectly—and gauging by the way Jared's dark eyes had narrowed to slits upon first seeing her in it, she wondered if the gown's fortuitous appearance in Anika's room might be in no small part because he'd wished it so. And wished it to be so in his favorite color—red.

  As for Jared, he seemed determined to be as devastatingly handsome as he could possibly manage on such short notice. Translation: He wore his military uniform, all black and well-fitted and sexy as hell. He couldn't have chosen better even if he'd been wearing some kind of kingly formal wear. For a moment, she wondered what his traditional garb would have been if they'd been married on his planet, and decided to ask him later, when they were alone.