Bride to the Brutal Beast

BRIDE TO THE BRUTAL BEAST ATHENA STORM ATHENAVERSE PRESS Copyright © 2023 by Athena Storm All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Sign up for Athena’s newsletter! Like my Athena Storm’s Facebook Page! Join the Athenaverse CONTENTS Books of the Athenaverse The Athenaverse Star Chart 1. Lorka 2. Eden 3. Lorka 4. Eden 5. Lorka 6. Eden 7. Lorka 8. Eden 9. Lorka 10. Eden 11. Lorka 12. Eden 13. Eden 14. Lorka 15. Eden 16. Eden 17. Lorka 18. Eden 19. Lorka 20. Eden 21. Lorka 22. Eden 23. Eden Preview Kravath Liara Kravath Liara Books of the Athenaverse BOOKS OF THE ATHENAVERSE Intergalactic Fated Mates: Mates of the Precursors Reaper’s Property Mates of the Vakutan ‘90s Nostalgia Fated Mates Precursors Brides of Veritas Reaper’s Pet Series Bride to Beasts Series Soldiers of Hope Series Marauder Mates Series: Conquered Mates Champions of Ataxia Series: Mates of the Kilgari (An Athenaverse Collaboration with Celia Kyle): Warriors of the Alliance Series: Shared Mates THE ATHENAVERSE STAR CHART 1 LORKA “Of all the things…” Lorka muttered beneath his breath. The clouds formed a jagged line in the sky, refracting a dying sun’s last rays into brilliant hues of orange and pink. Gentle light cascaded over the tufted spires of Starcastle Keep, bringing a peaceful and serene ambiance to the kingdom’s capital. Lorka normally would have paused and looked at the setting sun for a moment, perhaps even swept his stoic gaze over the palace as well. In this instance, however, he was being pursued and dared not slow down for a moment. His predator was most relentless, and followed him throughout the palace. His mother always was stubborn. Lorka stopped on a terrace overlooking the shadow-splashed courtyard and turned to face his mother at last. “Must you continue to hector me about this journey?” His mother’s scaled face resolved into a patient, but annoyed expression. “I’m not hectoring you, Lorka. I’m only trying to make sure you fully understand the implications of the decision you have chosen to make.” He fought a wave of anger, partly because it was his mother — and partly because his niece, Dava, was tagging along in their wake. “You do not have to approve of my decision. Likewise, you do not have to make your judgments known.” His mother’s lips twisted into a wry half smile, although her eyes remained angry. Her voluminous robes swept across the stones beneath their feet with a whisper-like sound as she gestured at a tapestry hanging on the wall. It was an old tapestry, with a fortune in diamonds and jewels sewn into its fabric. It depicted his ancestor, Grikor, facing off against Baragon mercenaries. Grikor died in that encounter, but in doing so he saved his entire kingdom. “Do you see how Grikor attended to his duties, even though the cost was dear? He paid the ultimate price.” He had seen the tapestry many times before, and knew its story well. When he was younger he had longed to be a great hero like Grikor. Only now that he was older, he knew that heroes and villains were just a matter of perspective. He no longer felt inspired by the tapestry. His mother didn’t know that, clearly. “I’m hardly shirking my duties, Mother. I’m just taking a brief jaunt and will be back long before the negotiations begin.” “A thousand things could happen on your way to Novaria,” she said stiffly. “It is irresponsible for you to leave the planet now.” Anger surged through Lorka’s veins. He raised a nearby vase, about to smash it against the wall, when he saw Dava watching him. With a great deal of effort, he set the vase back down and closed his lips tightly. “Excuse me,” Lorka said, bowing stiffly to both of them before turning around and stuffing his saurian head out of the nearest window. He gave birth to his rage, letting it flow out of him in the form of dragon fire. The gout of flame raged up a full twenty feet in the air. His fire was the hottest it could be, a bright blue. He turned back around and cleared his throat, feeling at least somewhat less angry for venting. Literally. “I will see the both of you upon my return,” he said with stiff formality. “Uncle Lorka, don’t go.” Dava dashed over to him and hugged his leg. She was so young, her wings hadn’t even fully formed yet. They still fluttered with excitement as she grabbed onto him. “I must go, Dava,” he said gently, kneeling down to her eye level. “But I will return soon, I promise.” It took all of his strength to turn and walk away from Dava even as she began to sniffle and cry. He made it to the staircase and soon left her weeping behind him. He also left his mother’s judgmental attitude on the upper floor. He walked down a staircase made of blue, semi translucent stone harvested from the seabed. From time to time there would be starfish or other sea life from long ago embedded within it. The sight normally brought him some joy, but today his mind remained mired in other distractions. He turned a corner and ascended a short stairway that led to a wide open section of the palace. Massive pillars, larger around than ten Dragonions holding hands in a circle, supported the three open walls. Various vehicles occupied the hangar bay, from atmospheric-bound speeders, to tracked military tanks, to sleek and silvery starships. The quartermaster bowed his head upon Lorka’s entrance. “Your ship is ready for you, my lord.” “Thank you, Rezus. As always you are an excellent steward.” Rezus bowed his black scaled head as Lorka passed. He made his way to a silver