“Why don’t we all just calm down? We’re on the same side, Violet,” I said, murmuring in her ear. “Goran is Mindy’s mate. He loves her. He’s upset that she’s hurt and furious with himself for allowing it. He would never hurt your sister. Breathe.”
Violet shuddered, but she allowed me to hold her as a long silence filled the room. She felt so good in my arms. Warm, pliant, yet she was strung taut as a bow.
Shaken and obviously worried, Goran used his communicator to order two guards into the room as well as two more to take up position outside in the corridor. When they were in place, he placed a kiss on the cover above Mindy’s eerily familiar face. “I’ll be back, love. I promise.”
Violet wrapped her hands around my wrists, her grip so tight I was about to ask what was wrong, but she spoke. “Wait, Goran. I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“No.”
Zed and Calder spoke in unison as Goran stared at her with a confused expression on his face. “Why? Your sister is here. She will heal. You should be here for her when she wakes up, just as you wished.”
Violet shook her head and shoved my arms away. “No. I’m going with you. Whoever tried to kill Mindy is still out there. As soon as she’s awake, she’ll be in danger again. Take me with you. I will take her place at the council meeting. I’ll pretend to be Mindy. The assassin thinks he killed her, or at least injured her, right? If Mindy is by your side, healthy and whole, it will upset him. Surprise him. Lure him out of hiding with less time to plan. He’ll make a mistake. Mindy’s plan had worked. He made a move. He tried to kill her. He’ll do it again and again until he succeeds. And then they’ll go after Eva, and Natalie. Any other Interstellar Bride who comes to Trion. I can’t leave Mindy here knowing she’s well yet still in danger, and you won’t let me take her with me back to Viken. So, we have to catch the assassin. We can’t let him win. We need to finish this, or she’ll never be safe. Never.”
“Violet—” I was searching for words, for a way to reason with her, but she spun around in my hold.
“No. My twin is in danger. I’m doing this. No one else can do it. We’re identical. No one can tell the difference and here on Trion, no one even knows I exist. I’ll put on Mindy’s clothes, stare at Goran like he’s the love of my life, make the entire council think I’m his mate. If the assassin really needs her dead, he’ll come after me, and all four of you will be there to stop him.”
We’d learned—first on Earth and then on Viken when the message of her sister’s injuries had come through—just how stubborn Violet could be. When it came to her twin sister, she was not just a rock, she was a mountain of stone. Yes, the kings had been correct in their statement. Earth females were difficult. Trying. Sexy as fuck and so damned frustrating.
I looked from Calder, whose expression was unreadable, to Zed, whose eyes were filled with cold calculation, and I knew. We were going to do this, whether we liked it or not. This had to end. Mindy had to be safe or Violet would never be content. She’d always worry, for that was who she was. Who she’d always be. I saw a moment of clarity how she would be with our children. Fierce, loyal, devoted. No one would harm them, ever. And now, Violet needed to protect her sister—and as her mates, we needed to protect Violet.
Zed would speak for us. He’d taken the role of command in our new and fragile family and I wasn’t sure I could get the words out. The words that allowed Violet to be put in harm’s way.
“Very well, but we will be in the room, Violet.” He looked at Goran. “Give us clothing so we’ll look like the rest of your guards. She might pretend to be your mate, but Violet doesn’t leave our sight.”
11
Violet, Planet Trion, Sector Two, High Council Meeting
Pretending to be my sister should have been easy. Hell, we’d been swapping places to trick our teachers since kindergarten. It was a bit of a game. She’d take my English tests and I’d take her finals in math. If a cute boy was in my class and I wanted him to ask me out, I’d swap with her and she would flirt like crazy for a few days until I got what I wanted. A date.
It had never bothered me that Mindy was the flirt and I was the introvert. That I had to work my ass off for an A-minus and she’d get the same grade without cracking a book. We shared everything. Nothing mattered more than the two of us against the world.
Until now.
I hated kneeling in the sand with my head bowed and a collar around my neck.
I really fucking hated being staked to the ground like some kind of dog on a golden leash leaning against Goran’s leg.
The dress I had on was barely more than a translucent window sheer that showed everything. Every. Single. Thing. Including the fake piercings they’d finally glued to my nipples at Goran’s insistence. When the woman sent to prepare me to be my sister tried to pierce my nipples for the general’s adornment, Zed took one look at her, told her to get the fuck out, and she ran.
I had to admit I was grateful about that. I would have done it—it couldn’t hurt that much, right?—but I really didn’t want to. I had never been into piercing things, or tattoos. Never. I hated pain, and I really, really hated needles. The only thing I wanted on my nipples was one of my mates’ mouths.
The attendant had returned, timid and fearful, with Goran. After ten minutes of arguing while being topless—which was a little awkward—I had gold and jewels glued to the girls with a delicate golden chain dangling between them. The tips of my nipples were completely bare and on display, poking out of the gown through two slits in the diaphanous red material. It was obscene, especially with the liberal application of the oil, almond scented, coating my skin. Zed had been the one to apply it, to ensure I was liberally covered. Of course, this only made me hot and wet for him, eager for his hands to touch me other places, which had only been foreplay. I knew what could come next and wanted it.
Perhaps it was that contact, that simmering need I had for him, that helped me look like a siren. Or one of those female demons who drove men crazy and fucked them to death.
A succubus? Something like that.
I could barely look at my mates because I was, well, horny for them. And I knew they didn’t like this. Not one bit. Zed looked furious, his jaw clenched so tight I worried he would crack his teeth. He was closest to me, on my right, near the entrance of the tent.
Calder was red. His cock rock hard and on display, the thick bulge beneath his robe clearly visible from across the tent. It was his…thing to display me, to show me off. He liked what he saw and didn’t mind that others saw me like this. He was proud of me, but it wasn’t me on display, but fake-Mindy. And for that reason, he hated it. I wasn’t mostly naked—and in a very debasing, objectifying way—because Calder wanted to share my beauty with others. No, I was this way because I was reduced to a body. A body to prove Goran’s power. And that was completely the opposite of Calder’s stance.
He was the farthest away, opposite me, watching Goran like he was going to cut off the man’s hands. Goran was being very respectful, his big, warm palm somewhat comforting on top of my shoulder. But Calder had murder in his eyes. And jealousy.
He wanted to be the one up there at my side and he was obviously enjoying the show…and hating himself for it. Or hating me.