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“ T he females stay with me,” I growl at the warlords who are variously pacing or, in Dante’s case, eating in the clan hall. “It is what they wish.”

“You’re merely keeping them to yourself,” Dexx snarls. “You want more than just your mate.”

Dalox raises his hand. Dexx doesn’t back off, but he doesn’t come any closer to me.

I nod in agreement.

“But,” he says, “they should have the option to visit our sectors, to see if they would prefer to live elsewhere, to mix with other Sarkarnii, given they are our guests.”

Dalox treats me to one of his long stares. It’s one he’s legendary for. I could challenge him, but I have a warm female waiting for me in my den, one who requires many more mating sessions because I have to ensure she is properly bred.

And if it means I don’t have warlords sniffing around my sector every nova-day, it’s an easy enough agreement.

“I will need to check they want to do this, but I can’t see any of them having an objection,” I respond. “I will also be dancing for my mate in the next few nova-days. It will be a celebration you are welcome to attend, providing you abide by my rules. No weapons and no shifting.”

Dexx rumbles menacingly, but Dalox fixes him with a stare.

“A celebration?” Dante says, taking a swig from a goblet of ale wine. “Sounds good.”

I immediately regret my life choices.

But these warlords were once my compatriots, my fellow warriors, our fleet. So much has changed since we came through the wormhole, but as my Kerra has taught me, not everything is as it seems.

So many things we’ve taken for granted are not even the truth.

“Have you located your brother yet?” Driok says. “He’s a liability.”

“He is not,” I growl. “Deus saved my mate, and he can take care of himself.”

Driok and Dexx huff out plenty of smoke, indicating they are not convinced. I am, however, resolute. I will not go looking for Deus, and I know he will not come looking for me.

If our paths cross again, then I will deal with him as I see fit.

“Then it is decided,” Dalox rumbles. “We will attend your claiming dance and respect your sector. Even Dante,” he intones.

Dante manages to look entirely innocent and like a ball of feral danger at the same time. I make a mental note to ensure he’s kept well away from anything flammable. Chances are he won’t like it, but I’d prefer to keep my ship and crew scorched to a minimum.

“Then, until the dance.” I slam my fist on my shoulder and give Dalox a brief bow, even if the nevver doesn’t deserve it much.

Dexx glowers at me as I leave the clan hall. He clearly dislikes the decision Dalox made, but he will not go up against him.

I make my way back through the neutral zone. It has returned to a near normality, filled mostly with Dante’s crew who are making the most of having it to themselves. The air is thick with accelerant.

My airlock opens at my approach, and I step into the more rarified atmosphere of the Silver Star . Dalat is waiting for me, holding out a vid-pad.

“I have further questions for your claiming dance, Lord.” He attempts to hand me the pad.

I clap my hand on his shoulder. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch as much as he could.

“I trust you to do a good job, Dalat. These celebrations will be the best Vorostor Central has ever seen, I am sure of it.”

They are likely to be the most expensive, but what is the point of being a Sarkarnii warlord with the best resources in any sector if I can’t ensure my mate has everything she deserves, including the best claiming dance?

“I appreciate your faith in me, Lord, but I do need you to look over a few items,” Dalat persists as I attempt to get away.

To my abject horror, a couple of confused looking warriors join us carrying various items.

“I need to know what colors you wish to adorn the halls,” Dalat says as a warrior holds up some fabric samples. “And if you prefer Nalor ale wine to Balor.”

I increase my pace, but unfortunately, he keeps up. And he’s not giving in.

“Hi, Dalat.” Kerra appears, as if out of nowhere. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow your Lord Darax for a while.” Her hand grips at me, her pull impressively strong as I’m dragged down the passage to the aquium.

He is left behind, knowing to follow would result in injury.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Kerra says.

“I did, or rather Dalat did before I removed a body part,” I say without any malice.

“He’s doing his best, but he is…a bit much.” She sighs. “But I have Rosalie and Maggie to keep him at bay,” she adds quickly.

I pull her to me, inhaling her delicious scent and enjoying her proximity calming my shivering scales and whirling head.

“I want to dance for you more than you can imagine, my Kerra,” I murmur into her hair. “I can dance for you here and now, but the claiming dance should be done in front of others. Otherwise there is no real claiming.”

“How many others?” Kerra asks.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as there are witnesses.”

“Do they have to be Sarkarnii?”

I tip my head on one side, considering her suggestion before coming to a conclusion. “No, I don’t think they do.”

Kerra grabs my hands and pulls me through the door into my aquium. Inside are the females, waiting for us.

I’m not sure why.

“Do you need anything else to dance for me?” Kerra asks. “Or could you do it here, now?”

“With the females present?” I look at them. They are all smiling, and for the first time in my life, my stomach squirms with a little fear.

Females can envenomate. Females can be dangerous.

“With my friends as witnesses,” Kerra says. “And without all the fuss Dalat is planning.”

“You don’t want a celebration?”

“I do if you do.” Kerra raises her eyebrows.

I get the feeling the females are all holding their collective breaths.

I think of the celebration, the fuss, the visitations by the warlords and the chaos which I know will ensure.

And I look at my beautiful mate. She wears a close fitting top in the color of my scales and pants which mold to her form.

She is so perfect.

“I want to dance for you, my mate. I don’t care who sees.” I press my lips to hers. “All I want to do is complete the claiming. I want you to be mine.”