Surprise Mates: Interstellar Brides® Program: Book 21 Read online

  “Yeah, I’m going to feel like a princess,” Rachel added. “You really need to set up a spa, Lucy.”

  I laughed. “On The Colony? All the guys are grumps, and there aren’t enough ladies.”

  “Maybe a retreat like the Trixon Resort,” Rachel countered, wiggling her eyebrows. “Whitney told me they even have sexual instructors there in case you want to try some new things and aren’t sure how to—you know—get started.” Her guilty giggle was contagious, and soon every one of us ladies was grinning.

  “You’re obsessed, mate,” Maxim replied. “We didn’t satisfy you enough this morning?”

  Rachel flushed. “I’m thinking of a business for Lucy,” she countered. “It would be a hit.”

  “Lucy’s right. Not on The Colony. Maybe Prillon Prime,” Maxim said, making me wonder what the planet was like. “The females here enjoy pampering.”

  “I think you’d be surprised what a nice massage could do for a grumpy warrior,” Rachel insisted.

  “We are willing to allow you to demonstrate, mate.” Ryston’s suggestion was filled with heat. She laughed.

  “We’d never get that far.”

  Maxim leaned in and lifted Rachel’s face to his for a kiss. “As for feeling like a princess, mate, Jessica is an actual royal, and you are the wonderful Lady Rone of The Colony.” Maxim gave her a very heated look, and I had to wonder who hadn’t gotten enough this morning.

  I was just Lucy Vandermark. Mateless but with sexy underwear.

  Lindsey smiled. “I for one am looking forward to dressing up and having some adult time. Tonight we have the big surprise party, brunch with the ladies tomorrow, a full day of lounging around and relaxing, and then, day three, an actual royal ball. Huge dresses. Music from home. Dancing. Earth food for days. Girlfriends to talk to. We might never want to leave.”

  Kiel scowled and Maxim growled. “You will return with us to The Colony,” Maxim commanded Rachel.

  “She’s teasing you boys.” After Rachel gave Maxim an air-kiss, she flung her arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get the party started. Because… what happens on Prillon Prime…”

  “Stays on Prillon Prime!” All of us finished the sentence together, giving me hope that I might find a hot guy willing to spend this weekend peeling off my undies with his teeth.

  The guys turned to look at us with our shouting.

  Yeah, this was going to be fun.

  2

  Ambassador Lord Niklas Lorvar, Prillon Prime, The Palace

  “SURPRISE!”

  Queen Jessica, with her mates behind her—Prime Nial and Lord Ander—stopped dead in her tracks as she came into the ballroom, her eyes widening like dinner plates and her mouth dropping open. Once the initial shock was over, she covered her face with her hands and laughed. Male clapping joined squeals of feminine laughter and shouting as a clutch of human women surrounded her like Hive on a downed fighter.

  “Stop scowling, Niklas,” Sambor scolded while he, too, clapped slowly, his rough hands coming together like slow-moving thunder.

  I watched the stunned happiness on the queen’s face as she realized many of her fellow Earth brides had come from their home planets to Prillon Prime to celebrate her birthing day. I’d heard one of the females had organized it with the queen’s mates, obviously having kept it all a secret. We’d received an invitation, something I knew, as ambassador, not to decline.

  My duties to Prillon Prime were of the utmost importance to the entire Coalition Fleet. And part of my job was to maintain an excellent working relationship with both Prime Nial and his second, Lord Ander.

  Turning down an invitation to their mate’s private celebration was not an option—no matter what pressing matters awaited mine and Sambor’s attention. Criminal activities on Rogue 5. Cerberus Legion’s new interest in human females. Dr. Helion and the Intelligence Core’s attempts to extract information from a Nexus unit we were holding in captivity. Important things for the safety and security of everyone present, and everyone in the Interstellar Coalition of Planets. Instead of taking care of these issues, I was supposed to remain here for several days, sneaking away for meetings, only to return for more celebrations, which I’d been informed were to include a sweet baked item from Earth called cake and listening to strange Earthen music for hours upon hours. I had never listened to human music, but knowing how chaotic and unpredictable humans were as a whole, I did not have high hopes that their music would be tolerable to Prillon ears.

  “We should not be here, Sambor. There is too much work to do.”

  “We already must transport off planet for meetings twice during the celebration days.” Sambor still clapped his large hands, and he had a smile on his face. “That’s more than enough. What’s the point of fighting all the time if we don’t enjoy ourselves once in a while?”

  “The custom of shocking one on their birthing day does not qualify as a worthy use of our time. We should be out in the field protecting the queen, not standing here watching her cry.” For the female was crying profusely, and every female who approached and hugged her seemed to make the crying worse. “Perhaps the females from Earth are not as intelligent as I had assumed. Why do they not stop?” I could not stand to see a female in pain, as was the case with most of the males in the room. I expected Ander and Nial to be severely affected, emotionally linked to the queen as they were through their dark red mating collars, but they beamed like they’d just won a fierce battle. “I do not understand females.”

  Sambor burst into laughter. “A truer statement has never passed your lips, my friend.”

  I wasn’t one for surprises and it wasn’t a Prillon tradition to make a celebration a secret, but it appeared to be something normal for the primitive planet where all the squealing females were from. And something they clearly enjoyed.

  “Niklas, no jest. Stop scowling. You’re going to give Prime Nial the impression you don’t want to be here,” Sambor continued, although the Prime was far too enthralled by his mate’s joyful face to note the frown on mine.

  “I’m too busy.” Right then, music came through hidden speakers and I cringed. I’d never heard such a theme before, but all the females squealed again and laughed. They grabbed one another by the hands and dragged each other toward an open area I assumed was designated for dancing.

  However, the strange high-pitched male voice coming through the speakers had the ladies twirling, gyrating, stomping and waving their hands all around in the oddest type of ceremonial display I’d ever witnessed.

  Ah, Earth music. Loud, odd and weirdly rhythmic. As I had feared.

  I listened to the words. “Why do they want to spin a baby right round? And what is a record? Is that what is wrong with humans, that they were spun in circles as infants?”

  Next to me, Sambor looked as confused as I felt, and shrugged. “Why are their motions not in sync?”

  I wondered the same. “Perhaps they have not properly learned the steps.” Every female, beautiful in her own right—some wearing Prillon collars, others Trion adornments, some with Atlan mating cuffs about their wrists—was moving as if distinctly separate from the others.

  “They look like flapping birds panicked by a serpent.” Sambor’s dry humor was one of the reasons I kept him around all these years. The smile that creased my face was true.

  “So they do. Lovely birds.” I did not allow my gaze to linger overlong on any one female, despite the beauty on display before us, as their very possessive mates watched from every angle and corner of the room. Sambor and I were one of less than a dozen unmated males who had been trusted to attend. I would not insult our Prime by causing problems with any of the mated females.

  Nor did I wish to battle a raging Atlan beast or pair of mated Prillon males who might take offense at my interest in their mate.

  “Why do they threaten endless spinning of their infants?” he asked, wincing. “‘Baby’ is their word for infant, correct? My NPU is not malfunctioning?”

  “If so, mine is as w
ell.” I noticed expressions similar to Sambor’s on the other males about the room. That had the corner of my lips tipping up yet again. I wasn’t the only one suffering. The ladies clapped in time to the heavy beats of music with obvious delight.

  A beautiful young female moved to the front of the room and took a comm from the technician operating the strange, human music system. She lifted the unit to her mouth as the music faded. Thank the gods.

  “Hi, everyone! I’m Lindsey from The Colony. That sexy Hunter, Kiel, is my mate.” She waved, her gaze lit with mischief. “Hi, sexy!”

  Sambor and I turned our heads to see a large, very intimidating male standing with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face as he lifted his fingers in the smallest possible wave. It was enough. Lindsey blew him a kiss and Sambor chuckled.

  “Lucky fucker.”

  “Indeed.” The Hunter would have been intimidating if not for this odd festive occasion. We had worked with Elite Hunter squads many times. Never did they look so… harmless.

  Lindsey continued, moving her fingers now to indicate that Queen Jessica should come to the front. I returned my attention to the gathering of the other females, twittering with anticipation as the queen came forward to stand next to Lindsey.

  “Happy birthday, Jessica!” Lindsey wrapped an arm around the queen and gave her an odd side hug.

  The ladies all shouted the same as the shocked males looked on. We would not dare refer to her so familiarly.

  The queen beamed. “Thank you all so much for this amazing surprise. Thank you, Lindsey. I know you helped Nial and Ander do this for me. I love you so much.” She looked up, tears gathering in her eyes as she worshipped her mates with her gaze. Never had she been shy about claiming her males in public—from the very first in the combat arena where she’d claimed both Nial and Ander before the entire crowd—and that was one of the reasons she was so beloved by all Prillons.

  Fuck that. The entire Coalition Fleet.

  The queen and Lindsey shared a look and Sambor chuckled. “I know females, Nik. That looks like trouble.”

  I had to agree, but I remained silent as the queen continued.

  “Do you know what I want for my birthday, ladies?”

  “What?” a bunch of them shouted.

  “Line dancing!”

  The females put their hands in the air, their screams nearly deafening every suffering male in the room.

  “What the fuck is a line dance?” Sambor asked.

  “I have no idea, but I hope no harm comes to children with this one.”

  Lindsey took the comm back as the queen hurried down and was lost in the crowd of excited females.

  “Must be a very formal Earth custom for the queen to request it for her birthing day gift.”

  Lindsey took a deep breath and scanned the edge of the room where dozens of males stood looking fierce, intimidating, deadly… and confused as hell. “You heard the queen, gentlemen. Line up. Straight rows. Cover the dance floor. This is for the queen’s birthday gift.”

  When the males grumbled and didn’t move fast enough, Prime Nial moved to stand at the front of the room, Ander next to him. Ander’s scowl was enough to encourage every slow foot.

  “Fuck.”

  “Let’s go, your lordship. Looks like even you aren’t getting out of this.” Sambor clipped me on the back, hard, and stepped forward to take his place in one of the lines. Full armor. Weapon. The works, since he was here as my personal guard and we’d both come directly from a day of meetings at IC Command. Next to him, a petite female in a sparkling gown and Atlan mating cuffs twirled and giggled in anticipation. On her other side, a freakishly monstrous cyborg with matching cuffs hovered protectively, clearly as confused as Sambor and I by the upcoming ritual.

  By the gods, I hoped this line dance ceremony did not take too long. I had a warm bed waiting, since tomorrow would be another busy day at IC Command. Duty came first, as ambassador, in work and at events like these that were meant for pleasure. It was hard to relax after spending the day with Helion, the head of IC, and knowing another stressful day would follow in the morning. No doubt Sambor—and Lord Ander, who’d been part of the Prillon Prime contingency—agreed. But as the guest of honor’s second mate, this held more satisfaction for Ander, meaning more disappointment at dawn when he would have to leave his mate’s bed.

  I stood next to Sambor and paid no attention to the bodies lining up next to us, behind us. The queen and her two mates were in the front row. If Prime Nial and Lord Ander were participating in this human ritual, there was no excuse not to.

  Lindsey pointed to various females and warriors in the room to give instructions. Move there. Stand here. You two, back one row. It went on for about a minute until she was satisfied with the appearance and placement of everyone in the room.

  “Good.” She looked at the comm tech. “Let me get in line and then start. Okay?”

  He nodded gravely, as if she’d given him a life-or-death order, then watched as she scrambled to stand next to the Elite Hunter she’d identified as hers a few moments ago.

  Being a worthy male, he kissed her senseless before the music started.

  I approved. If a male was going to claim a female for his own, he’d damn well better take excellent care of her. That included kissing her into dazed submission as often as possible.

  The comm tech looked to Lindsey, who nodded. Then to the queen, who nodded as well. My entire being tensed in dread as he reached forward and activated the strange human music again. This was a different song. A stringed instrument filled the air with a pounding beat behind it as the females all clapped along.

  “Perhaps this version has no voicing,” Sambor mused.

  We were not to be so lucky.

  “Follow along, everyone. And one-two-three-four!” Lindsey shouted.

  On the next beat, the ladies stepped forward. Then backward. The males scrambled to imitate the movements, but none of us had a clue what was happening next.

  “This is strange, Nik. But at least they are all moving together now.”

  Sambor was right. The ladies moved as one, stomping, clapping. Running into the males.

  Laughing.

  The human voice spoke words that made no sense.

  “…tell my lips to tell my fingertips…”

  The whining male’s voice seemed to repeat over and over in a strange cadence that was singularly annoying. “Why would a male speak to his own fingertips?” I asked. “Human males make no sense.”

  Sambor, who seemed to be learning the steps with an ease that made me want to trip him, grinned as he executed a perfect turn on his heel. “The male’s heart is aching and breaking. However, the ladies seem to enjoy the idea of a male in pain.”

  As the song repeated a lyric about a male’s heart blowing up inside his own body and killing him, the ladies stomped in unison, yelled out with excitement and clapped before starting the whole thing over again.

  “Human females are, apparently, a bloodthirsty and merciless species when it comes to mating,” I muttered.

  Sambor nodded in agreement. “And I thought Prillon females were ruthless.”

  Two Atlan Warlords rammed into each other, one letting out a bellow of irritation seconds before his mate whirled into his arms and pulled him away. Then there was Commander and Lady Karter. She had the moves down, and beside her, Karter himself had picked it up. He was moving to the music and… fuck, he was enjoying himself. When he spun around in a circle, I saw the pleasure alighting his face.

  Who would have guessed that Commander Karter could dance?

  “To the right!” Lindsey shouted.

  As one, the ladies turned to face the right, and Sambor and I hurried to keep pace. I was not going to humiliate myself by running into…

  “Oh!”

  Softness. A squeal. A small human female fell toward me after I’d run into her like a giant Atlan oaf.

  “My lady! My apologies.” I caught her in my arms, and she press
ed into my chest, the dark green and gold gown she wore fluttering about my legs as the forward momentum of her fall had her softness, her feminine scent enveloping me completely.

  I forgot to move with the group, staring down into a pair of bright green eyes. Her hair was a halo of auburn fire, and there was a small gold ring teasing me where it pierced the delicate flesh of her adorable little nose. I blinked, frozen as if stunned by an ion pistol.

  Was she from Trion? The piercing made me wonder, but her gown was not typical of that planet’s females. Nor did I feel piercings or a chain where the hard pebbles of her nipples pressed into my chest. Gods help me, she was beautiful, and my body responded with instant demand. My cock hardened, and my pulse pounded while I fought for control. Where was her mate? Her protector? I knew I should look around for a male who would be eager to take her from me, but I could not move.

  She smiled up at me, her fair cheeks coloring under my attention to a perfect pink that matched her lips. Her full, open lips. I stood frozen, unable to look away.

  “Sorry.” Her breathless apology made my cock jump as the tremble in her voice was all I needed to imagine hearing that aching struggle for air under different circumstances… like when I filled her with my cock as Sambor held her in place for my claiming. When she was well pleasured, mindless with need, he would take her from behind as I held her body locked to mine, as we made her ours.

  Fuck. I was insane. Right now there was most likely a pair of Prillon warriors or an Atlan Warlord preparing to remove my head from my body for holding her like this.

  Close. Feet off the floor. In my arms and under my protection as if she were mine.

  Sambor rammed into us from the side.

  I threw an elbow to protect the small female in my arms from the armored giant, and he flew backward, landing with a thud against the Atlan who lifted his mate out of the way with a speed I’d learned to appreciate on the battlefield.

  The Atlan bellowed a warning. Sambor landed in a crouched position, snarling back.

  “Rezzer, I’m fine.” The female reached up and placed her palm on the Warlord’s cheek. Instantly he calmed. She turned her gaze to me and then the female I held. Her eyes widened; then she grinned, a wicked sort of silent communication moving between the two human females. “Vegas?”