Page 9

Alaric winks. He confides in a scandalous whisper, "The king…is in loooooove."

I half laugh, half gasp. I can hear my colleagues' hearts breaking from here. "No!"

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Alaric sighs. "Totally infatuated with the little human he bought."

"Hold up — bought?" I frown. Some nearby nations still allow slavery, particularly debt slavery, but I didn't think the Centaur King would condone that disgusting practice.

"Rescued, really. Long story." Alaric shrugs. I relax; that makes more sense. "He's safe and sound, I promise. Works at the palace…so the king can keep an eye on him."

Alaric accompanies the words keep an eye on him with a significant eyebrow waggle. His expression is so ridiculous, I snort.

I glance at the human attendants gathered in a ring around their king. "Works at the palace, huh? Is he here tonight?"

Alaric's laugh is a single loud peal. "Ha! No. He'd be terrified. The kid can't be a day over nineteen — and I'd bet my last coin he's a virgin. Poor thing is as skittish as a colt. Shies at his own shadow."

I smile at Alaric's gentle mockery. "Awwww. Adorable."

"The king thinks so, too. He's pining. Protective. Fusses over him like a broody mother duck. If the king participated tonight, he'd have to be First Stud, and he can't concentrate on looking after a mare when he's distracted thinking about his precious little duckling."

Our conversation consists of hushed whispers and snickers. It gives me a scandalous thrill to be so brazen with the king himself in the same room. "So…are they…?"

"Not yet." Alaric smirks. "His Majesty is too damn noble to do anything about it — even though the boy is clearly pining for him, too. I'm telling you, Kitten…it is so fucking funny to watch, but it's killing me."

"Someone needs to lock them in a room."

"I'm open to anything that will put me out of my misery." Alaric heaves a put-upon sigh. "The kid's a sweetheart, but the king's been moody as hell. I thought he was going to skin me alive the other day."

"Oh, gods," I groan. "What did you say?"

"Nothing! I simply pointed out that the boy seems shy, and I made the perfectly reasonable suggestion that maybe he would feel more comfortable with the herd if some of us took him out for a few drinks to get to know each other — "

"Noooo…"

" — I don't know why His Majesty would have a problem with that, to be honest."

I can't stop laughing quietly. I rest my forehead on Alaric's muscled shoulder as I catch my breath, my abs quaking with the effort of keeping my laughter low. When I think I have my mirth under control, I lift my head. A single glance at Alaric's impish grin sets me off again.

Damnit, what the fuck is happening?! How do Alaric's shenanigans disarm me so easily? I nearly forgot I'm at work! Our gossipy exchange is ridiculous, and very weird foreplay for an orgy.

Yet Alaric's playfulness is sexy to me. I've always been attracted to people who make me laugh. The knowing smirks he and I exchange in our intimate bubble of two make me crave him more. I want history, inside jokes, shared experiences between the two of us that nobody else would understand if they tried — and I want him to rail me within an inch of my life.

King Idris approaches the center of the room. Even his heavy hoofbeats seem to ring with authority. Alaric exaggerates shushing me, which causes the king to raise one dark eyebrow in our direction. The smile Alaric gives his king in return is so innocent that I have to bite the inside of my cheek. My eyes water from the effort not to laugh.

King Idris raises his hand, silencing the room. His calm baritone greets us, reminds everyone of the rules, and thanks his staff for working all night to ensure everyone has what they need to enjoy the orgy.

"Congratulations again to our First Stud and First Mare, Alaric and Kitten," the Centaur King concludes. "You may proceed."

With a smile at us that manages to be both dignified and subtly amused, the king steps back into the crowd.

All the centaurs back away. They form a wide ring around the raised platforms, leaving the two of us alone in the center of the room. My colleagues stand with their Studs. Blake subtly gives me a thumbs-up.

My bubbling humor dissolves. My heart drops to the floor. Oh, shit.

This is the significance of the honor Alaric won: nobody else can pursue their pleasure until the First Stud breeds the First Mare. The entire herd has to watch and wait.

Normally, that makes perfect sense. No one should come before the king. All my colleagues are comfortable taking King Idris's royal cock, so it doesn't matter who he chooses as First Mare.

But tonight, it's Alaric…and me.