Entered in the Alien Bride Lottery by Margo Collins (best large ebook reader TXT) 📗

if it were a throne in a palace. Its cushions were red, almost the color of human blood. The color of Commander Eldron, come to think of it.

I couldn’t help but hope the commander found a bride at some point. He was worthy of one. Tiziani was not.

After the door closed behind her, Natalie took several steps into the chamber and glanced around. With a shrug, she moved over and sat in the thronelike chair, smoothing down the short skirt of the blue knit dress she wore. The fabric brushed the tops of her thighs. The chair didn’t dwarf her as much as the seating arrangements in the greenroom dwarfed Plofnid, but she still looked like a Khanavai child sinking into the soft padding of the chair.

Or at least, she would have looked like a child, if not for her luscious curves.

I wanted to gather her in my arms, sit down on the chair with her in my lap, and hold her close. An ache settled in my chest unlike anything I never felt before. I had heard all my life about Khanavai protective instincts, but I’d never experienced them until now. No more, at least, than those instincts could be roused by a youngling in danger or the like.

This was something different. It was a determination to protect her from harm. It was the bond between mates flaring to life.

And all I’d done so far was kiss her.

On the screen, Tiziani walked into the spanking room.

“That’s my chair,” he announced, his nostrils flaring at the perceived insult of Natalie taking his place.

She stared at him coldly for a long moment. “I am not here because I want to be.”

“But you are here. In my seat.”

“I don’t know much about this spanking ceremony,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice betraying her nervousness. “Just that it’s supposed to remind the bride of her place in the relationship?”

Tiziani nodded. “Yes. To ensure that you understand your place as a subordinate in our culture.”

Irritation flashed across Natalie’s face and I couldn’t hold back my snort of satisfaction. Tiziani had just stepped in a flaming pile of etav droppings. He wasn’t simply a boring windbag. He was a stupid boring windbag.

Natalie crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I think maybe we should change the ceremony.”

Tiziani’s eyes narrowed. “Change it? This is the way it has been for thousands of years.”

“Nonetheless, I think this time, I should spank you.”

“What good would that do? I will not be the subordinate when we mate.”

Natalie’s jaw tightened, and the cameras zoomed in on the hard look she gave him. “Maybe not, but I’m not going to be ‘the subordinate,’ either. Because we’re never going to mate.” She all but sneered the last word, and I chuckled, proud of my feisty bride.

“You are required to participate in all the games,” Tiziani intoned, clearly quoting from the guidelines and bylaws—perhaps from the original Bride Alliance Treaty itself. “According to paragraph one-point-seven, subsection eight, every bride chosen in the lottery will complete all games to the judges’ satisfaction.”

Her folded arms tightened over her chest. “I’m not doing this,” she said. “It is barbaric and horrific.”

Tiziani took a threatening step toward her. “You might need a spanking more than any female I’ve ever met.”

It was all I could do not leap through the viewscreen and drag him away from my Natalie. She was far too precious to allow him to put his hands on her.

From her seat beside me, Drindl patted my hand again.

But it didn’t matter. That brute was threatening my mate.

A low growl escaped my throat.

Drindl leaned over to whisper to me, probably trying to distract me from my anger. “There have been several brides who resisted this particular game today.”

I glanced at her, torn between finding out what had happened and watching the scene unfolding on the screen in front of me.

“It hasn’t been pretty,” Plofnid interjected, leaning around Drindl so it could see me.

“One of the warriors was even disqualified for being overly harsh,” Drindl added.

“Overly harsh?” I hoped I sounded as horrified as I felt. “What kind of warrior would be willing to harm someone so fragile as a human female?”

“I heard that her resistance engaged his warrior instinct, and he hit her so hard that it caused blood vessels under her skin to break. She’s covered in…” Drindl closed her eyes, trying to remember the alien word.

“Bruises,” Plofnid supplied.

My stomach clenched as I looked back at the screen. Tiziani had begun trying to wrestle Natalie off the chair. No matter that she was tiny, she fought against him fiercely, hanging onto the arms of the throne with both hands and kicking him every chance she got.

I wanted to jump up and cheer for her, but I managed to keep my composure. Right up until she landed a kick straight in his gonads. He doubled over in pain, and even though he deserved it, I winced in sympathetic pain.

Tiziani let out a roar, doubling over, clutching himself for a moment. Natalie leaped from the chair and raced past him to try to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“The judges locked the rooms after some of the incidents this morning,” Drindl said, her long silvery fingers creeping up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide as she fretted over Natalie.

“Personally, I think that was a terrible idea.” Plofnid shook its head in dire warning. “They should consider the liability.”

Tiziani’s skin turned such a bright shade of yellow that it practically glowed, and veins popped up all over his body, throbbing visibly. With a snarl, he bent over and charged at Natalie, using his shoulder to slam into her stomach and knock the breath out of her. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist to pick her up off the chair, ripping her grip away from the arms. He spun around and sat down in the chair with a thump, grasping her struggling form and pushing her down until she was draped