A hint of laughter came from the captains lining the room, standing along the walls, watching with rapt attention the show we were putting on.
This claiming would be talked about for years. Being here, in this moment, was an honor they would tell their grandchildren about.
When the inking was done, Scribe pulled two silver bars from his bag, a question in his old eyes.
“Yes,” I said in response. “In the old way.”
Blade nodded and we stood steady as Scribe pierced our nipples with the bars, the mark of a mated male, one well claimed.
Harper sputtered and tried to intervene once she figured out what was happening. “What…why—”
“More proof. Ownership. You own us, Harper. We are yours, mate.”
I said nothing more and thankfully, she fell silent. If she had questions, I would explain them. Later.
I didn’t even flinch at the bright stab of pain once and then again. The piercings could not be removed, not without tearing the flesh. They were a sign of our faithfulness, our loyalty to one female. Our mate. We would touch no other. Allow no other female to touch us.
Harper winced in sympathy as the sharp metal pierced my flesh, but I welcomed the burn. The pain. It was how I knew she was mine. Now and forever.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the old man was finished. He stepped back to admire his work. Blade and I a matching pair with Harper’s name swirling in our flesh and silver bars proclaiming us as hers.
“It is done,” he said.
“Yes, it is done.” I looked around the room, met every pair of eyes. There were no more questions, no more doubts. Harper was mine and every enforcer and captain in the room knew exactly how serious I was about keeping her. “Harper is mine. I have chosen Blade as a bond-mate, to help care for her and protect her. Harper is Styx. Welcome her.”
The enforcers stood again and everyone in the room bowed, including Blade and Scribe as I stood behind her, ready to kill anyone who questioned her or showed her disrespect.
None dared.
Blade lifted his head to me, an eager grin on his face. “Enough?” he asked.
“Enough,” I agreed and raised my voice to one of command. “Now, everyone, get the fuck out.”
Harper jumped in her seat, something suspiciously like tears in her eyes as she looked at everyone bowing to her. She tried to rise and follow the others, but I held her in place with my hand on her shoulder.
“Not you, mate.” When she turned to look up at me with a question in her eyes, I let her see what I’d been holding back—raging hunger. Need. Lust. “It’s my turn to taste you.”
Chapter Seven
Harper
Holy. Shit.
I wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto. No. I wasn’t even on Zenith. I knew Styx and Blade were wild, but…wow. Not this wild. I shrugged out of Styx’s hold and rose, pacing the room to release some of the pent up tension. I placed the giant stone table between us and watched them as their gazes locked on me. They stood opposite me, bare chests rising and falling with their heavy breaths.
Their chests.
Broad. Hard. Washboar
d abs. Narrow waists. Tattoos. Not a simple anchor on a pec or even a rose and barbed wire with a name entwined. No. They were covered with black words. Not words. Names. Styx was covered, the entire legion of names written on his perfect skin. Blade’s body held fewer names, as I suspected the rest of the enforcers’ bodies did as well. But on these two, my name was prominently placed on their chests. The letters larger than the rest. Their intention obvious. Not exactly an engagement ring, but…damn. So hot. Their lack of doubt, their absolute conviction that I was the one they wanted was wearing me down, making me want to believe them.
Making me want to be claimed. Fucked.
Bitten.
And then there were the piercings. I’d seen pictures of guys with their nipples pierced. Some rings, some bars like they had. Blade and Styx were light and dark. Huge. Alien. Their stoic welcome for the needle that inked my name into their bodies—permanently—made my pussy hot and swollen. They were strong. Determined. Ripped—with muscles bulging everywhere. They looked too good to be real and seeing my name on them, my claim forever etched into their skin? My panties were completely and totally ruined.
They’d fought their core group of leadership for me. Not physically, but I knew it would come to that if necessary. They’d gotten my name tattooed on them and then their nipples pierced to prove I was their mate. The woman they chose. Me. Out of all the women in the galaxy, all the Coalition worlds, and all the worlds like this one that lived on the fringes. They chose me. My gaze lingered on the silver bars, on their version of a wedding ring, and my own nipples hardened and tingled at the thought.