Page 58 of Zar

She shook her head. “She was merely teaching me a lesson. I promise, it’s nothing.”

Callie had a sick feeling Iris was speaking about the blue-haired bitch Ferras. Kade confirmed it when he muttered, “I will have a talk with her.” When Iris started to protest, Kade interrupted her. “You should’ve told me the minute it happened. I will not allow her to harm you again. It stops now, Iris.”

Iris didn’t say anything else, simply nodded and walked away. Zar’s gaze landed on Kade. “Ferras cannot be allowed to continue as lead educator.”

“She’s been warned about her brutal ways.” Kade cursed, his gaze still on Iris. “No more.”

Kade cared about Iris. To Callie it was obvious in the way Kade watched the beautiful woman. He was genuinely enraged by the bruise Ferras had inflicted on the smaller educator. But educators weren’t permitted to have an ofelia. At least that’s what Zar had told her. Callie had a feeling that rule was about to be broken all to hell.

A giant of a man with red wings and short, spiky red hair approached carrying three crystal glasses filled with something bubbly. Champagne? He nodded towards Zar and handed him one of the drinks, then one of the other two to her. He kept the last for himself. Callie smiled. “Thank you.”

His eyes softened as he looked at her. “It’s a momentous day when our king finds his ofelia. Welcome to our home, Callie.”

She glanced over at Zar for an introduction and he didn’t disappoint. “Larz is Dyre’s top lieutenant,” Zar explained.

“A toast,” Larz responded as his gaze roamed down her body. “Isn’t that what an earth-born would do in this situation?”

“Absolutely,” she answered, grateful the man was making an effort to make her feel at home.

They all three touched glasses, the crystal making a clinking sound. Larz held up his glass, “To our future queen!” he loudly stated as he drank down half the contents of his glass. Callie and Zar followed suit. Callie nearly spit the liquid back out. Ew. It was bitter and tasted odd. Maybe it wasn’t champagne. She glanced at Larz and Zar, noticing that neither man seemed to have a problem with the odd flavor. Unwilling to offend anyone, Callie tried another, smaller sip. Yep, it was horrible. She opted to simply hold the glass and pretend to drink. No harm in that. She’d done it thousands of times when she’d had to go to dinner meetings with business partners. She could fake-drink with the best of them. Callie glanced around the room for a planter that she could dump the rest of the contents of glass into but came up empty. Great.

Dyre stepped close and began talking about the security measures they had implemented for the party. Soon Larz and Dyre were deep in conversation. Zar lead her away from them and took her closer to the row of chairs at the back of the room where they’d be seated. And her pillow. On the floor. Like a friggin’ puppy. When Zar spotted the jewel-toned cushion, he frowned and swept the room in search of something or someone. He stiffened and his frown turned downright fierce.

Callie placed her hand on his, grabbing his attention. “What’s wrong?”

He pointedly looked down at the cushion. “This should not be here,” he bit out. “I made a specific request to have it removed.”

She cupped his jaw and drew his gaze back to hers. “Flare told me about the seating arrangements, Zar. It’s okay.”

His gaze widened in shock, then his wings extended outward as if of their own accord. Oh, shit, he was pissed. "He discussed it with you? I did not give him permission to do that.”

Callie loved that he was angry about the seating. If she’d had any doubt that he respected her need for equality within their relationship, he’d just put it to rest. “He explained that right now might not be the best time to thumb our noses at tradition. Remember that Naxon has a mole and is potentially looking to stir up trouble. I don’t want to be the cause of people losing faith in their king. Already you’re catching hell because I’m not Zenarian.”

He stroked his fingers down her cheek. “I wanted you at my side, Callie. This tradition is archaic. King Arlias insisted on it, but I’ve never cared for it and neither did my mother.”

She leaned up and kissed him, keeping it quick, then murmured, “So, we change it for the next festival. But maybe we should introduce one ripple at a time so we don’t have a full-on tsunami here.”

“Your words amuse me, but I do understand the point. One ripple at a time.” He glared at the cushion. “You are certain you don’t mind?”

“Oh, no, I mind. A hell of a lot actually. But I’m not made of glass, Zar. I can handle it this once.”

He was quiet a moment and searched her face as if for the truth in her words. He shrugged. “After the festival we’ll take the pillow and burn the damn thing together.”

She laughed. “Now that I can get on board with.”

Someone rang a bell and everyone moved to sit down. Zar stepped onto the platform and took his seat. His large frame filled the chair and his shiny black wings flexed out behind him. With his hair tied back and his muscular body filling out the suit jacket, Callie’s temperature rose. He was delicious and he was hers. A big, badass winged alien king. If that didn’t set her pulse racing nothing would.

Zar held out a hand to her and helped her sit at his feet. It wasn’t easy considering the dress had a long slit up one side. If she wasn’t careful she’d be flashing everyone the goods. She carefully arranged her legs so that they were slanted sideways and pressed tightly together. She glanced up at Zar. He was staring at her bared legs and frowning. His right wing came around her, offering a protective barrier. There was something in his dark eyes that gave her pause. She’d seen that look before. His creature wasn’t happy with the seating arrangements either. Callie sought to soothe him by reaching out and wrapping a hand around his calf and stroking up and down. Zar took a deep breath and let it out.

His lip curled upward in distaste as he stared at the cushion. “We burn it after tonight.”

“To ash, winged-man,” she offered, hoping to see him smile. He didn’t. When Flare approached to sit on his left, Zar hissed at him. Flare flinched and kept silent.

Callie pinched Zar through the fabric of his slacks. He glared down at her. “Chill,” she grumbled.

A tense minute passed before he gave her a jerky nod and stroked the length of her hair with his big, calloused palm. Several commoners served everyone. A plate was brought to Zar, then her. Soon people were chatting amongst themselves, silverware clanged against plates as the food was being consumed. Callie heard someone mention a dance and she wondered if she would be expected to participate. She was not graceful and had zero rhythm.

With the feast part of the evening officially underway, Callie took a bite of what appeared to be roast beef, then another bite of the steamed mixed vegetables. Suddenly the room began to spin and tip sideways. She squeezed Zar’s thigh and clenched her eyes tightly closed in an attempt to stop the spinning but it didn’t help. It was almost as if she were drunk. Her stomach heaved and she was terrified that she’d lose the contents of her stomach all over the floor. She carefully set the plate down next to her and stood, swaying a little.

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