Grace Goodwin - Surprise Mates

“The custom of shocking one on their birthing day does not qualify as a worthy use of our time. We should be out in the field protecting the queen, not standing here watching her cry.” For the female was crying profusely, and every female who approached and hugged her seemed to make the crying worse. “Perhaps the females from Earth are not as intelligent as I had assumed. Why do they not stop?” I could not stand to see a female in pain, as was the case with most of the males in the room. I expected Ander and Nial to be severely affected, emotionally linked to the queen as they were through their dark red mating collars, but they beamed like they’d just won a fierce battle. “I do not understand females.”

Sambor burst into laughter. “A truer statement has never passed your lips, my friend.”

I wasn’t one for surprises and it wasn’t a Prillon tradition to make a celebration a secret, but it appeared to be something normal for the primitive planet where all the squealing females were from. And something they clearly enjoyed.

“Niklas, no jest. Stop scowling. You’re going to give Prime Nial the impression you don’t want to be here,” Sambor continued, although the Prime was far too enthralled by his mate’s joyful face to note the frown on mine.

“I’m too busy.” Right then, music came through hidden speakers and I cringed. I’d never heard such a theme before, but all the females squealed again and laughed. They grabbed one another by the hands and dragged each other toward an open area I assumed was designated for dancing.

However, the strange high-pitched male voice coming through the speakers had the ladies twirling, gyrating, stomping and waving their hands all around in the oddest type of ceremonial display I’d ever witnessed.

Ah, Earth music. Loud, odd and weirdly rhythmic. As I had feared.

I listened to the words. “Why do they want to spin a baby right round? And what is a record? Is that what is wrong with humans, that they were spun in circles as infants?”

Next to me, Sambor looked as confused as I felt, and shrugged. “Why are their motions not in sync?”

I wondered the same. “Perhaps they have not properly learned the steps.” Every female, beautiful in her own right—some wearing Prillon collars, others Trion adornments, some with Atlan mating cuffs about their wrists—was moving as if distinctly separate from the others.

“They look like flapping birds panicked by a serpent.” Sambor’s dry humor was one of the reasons I kept him around all these years. The smile that creased my face was true.

“So they do. Lovely birds.” I did not allow my gaze to linger overlong on any one female, despite the beauty on display before us, as their very possessive mates watched from every angle and corner of the room. Sambor and I were one of less than a dozen unmated males who had been trusted to attend. I would not insult our Prime by causing problems with any of the mated females.

Nor did I wish to battle a raging Atlan beast or pair of mated Prillon males who might take offense at my interest in their mate.

“Why do they threaten endless spinning of their infants?” he asked, wincing. “‘Baby’ is their word for infant, correct? My NPU is not malfunctioning?”

“If so, mine is as well.” I noticed expressions similar to Sambor’s on the other males about the room. That had the corner of my lips tipping up yet again. I wasn’t the only one suffering. The ladies clapped in time to the heavy beats of music with obvious delight.

A beautiful young female moved to the front of the room and took a comm from the technician operating the strange, human music system. She lifted the unit to her mouth as the music faded. Thank the gods.

“Hi, everyone! I’m Lindsey from The Colony. That sexy Hunter, Kiel, is my mate.” She waved, her gaze lit with mischief. “Hi, sexy!”

Sambor and I turned our heads to see a large, very intimidating male standing with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face as he lifted his fingers in the smallest possible wave. It was enough. Lindsey blew him a kiss and Sambor chuckled.

“Lucky fucker.”

“Indeed.” The Hunter would have been intimidating if not for this odd festive occasion. We had worked with Elite Hunter squads many times. Never did they look so… harmless.

Lindsey continued, moving her fingers now to indicate that Queen Jessica should come to the front. I returned my attention to the gathering of the other females, twittering with anticipation as the queen came forward to stand next to Lindsey.

“Happy birthday, Jessica!” Lindsey wrapped an arm around the queen and gave her an odd side hug.

The ladies all shouted the same as the shocked males looked on. We would not dare refer to her so familiarly.

The queen beamed. “Thank you all so much for this amazing surprise. Thank you, Lindsey. I know you helped Nial and Ander do this for me. I love you so much.” She looked up, tears gathering in her eyes as she worshipped her mates with her gaze. Never had she been shy about claiming her males in public—from the very first in the combat arena where she’d claimed both Nial and Ander before the entire crowd—and that was one of the reasons she was so beloved by all Prillons.

Fuck that. The entire Coalition Fleet.

The queen and Lindsey shared a look and Sambor chuckled. “I know females, Nik. That looks like trouble.”

I had to agree, but I remained silent as the queen continued.

“Do you know what I want for my birthday, ladies?”

“What?” a bunch of them shouted.

“Line dancing!”

The females put their hands in the air, their screams nearly deafening every suffering male in the room.

“What the fuck is a line dance?” Sambor asked.

“I have no idea, but I hope no harm comes to children with this one.”

Lindsey took the comm back as the queen hurried down and was lost in the crowd of excited females.

“Must be a very formal Earth custom for the queen to request it for her birthing day gift.”

Lindsey took a deep breath and scanned the edge of the room where dozens of males stood looking fierce, intimidating, deadly… and confused as hell. “You heard the queen, gentlemen. Line up. Straight rows. Cover the dance floor. This is for the queen’s birthday gift.”

When the males grumbled and didn’t move fast enough, Prime Nial moved to stand at the front of the room, Ander next to him. Ander’s scowl was enough to encourage every slow foot.

“Fuck.”

“Let’s go, your lordship. Looks like even you aren’t getting out of this.” Sambor clipped me on the back, hard, and stepped forward to take his place in one of the lines. Full armor. Weapon. The works, since he was here as my personal guard and we’d both come directly from a day of meetings at IC Command. Next to him, a petite female in a sparkling gown and Atlan mating cuffs twirled and giggled in anticipation. On her other side, a freakishly monstrous cyborg with matching cuffs hovered protectively, clearly as confused as Sambor and I by the upcoming ritual.

By the gods, I hoped this line dance ceremony did not take too long. I had a warm bed waiting, since tomorrow would be another busy day at IC Command. Duty came first, as ambassador, in work and at events like these that were meant for pleasure. It was hard to relax after spending the day with Helion, the head of IC, and knowing another stressful day would follow in the morning. No doubt Sambor—and Lord Ander, who’d been part of the Prillon Prime contingency—agreed. But as the guest of honor’s second mate, this held more satisfaction for Ander, meaning more disappointment at dawn when he would have to leave his mate’s bed.

I stood next to Sambor and paid no attention to the bodies lining up next to us, behind us. The queen and her two mates were in the front row. If Prime Nial and Lord Ander were participating in this human ritual, there was no excuse not to.