Suns, but she was perfect. Her face deepened to crimson, and her dilating eyes dropped to his lips before flying up again. She tore her gaze away and twisted her head, yielding yet defying him as well. She was tense and waiting while his eyes took in every detail of her face. She smelled of woman, a husky, sweet, faint scent.
He stepped away. She understood him and obviously felt the same energy he did when they touched. It was enough to satisfy him. Warriors were known for their patience and control, but he sensed this woman would test both. He nodded his head to the side in a silent order for her to proceed. She marched away from him. If he channeled that fire, he might find he liked her defiant passion.
A'Ran trailed several steps, watching the way her hips sashayed as she walked. Her walk was unguarded like her mannerisms, a sweet lack of refinement he wasn't sure he liked. Her pace slowed as she caught sight of Ne'Rin. He nodded to his advisor, who waved his wrist before the access pad.
The door cracked open, and his woman shielded her eyes against the sudden sunlight. It was midday. The brilliant suns were overhead, their heat heavy in the still day. He moved around her and stepped onto thick green grasses.
Two of his sisters were waiting, composed and serene in their dark clothing with hands clasped in front of them. The third, the youngest, hurried toward the door, translator in hand as he had ordered.
Both older sisters nodded in deference as he approached, and he glanced over them to assure himself of their health. There was a time before they were exiled where he would've been ashamed to see them in such plain clothing. He'd long since accepted that their health was far more important than where they lived or what they wore. The heavy, masculine features that made him fierce had rendered his sisters too heavy of face to be pretty. They were all un-mated despite their dhjan blood. The eldest, D'Ryn, bowed and greeted him.
"May the sun shine long on you, brother."
"D'Ryn, Gage," he said in response. "You look well."
A commotion sounded behind him, and he turned. Nishani took the hands of his youngest sister, Talal, and began to speak, animated compared to the serene women of his world. For a long moment, he watched. She was meant to be his, this he didn't doubt, though he couldn't stop the trickle of unease that warned him she may not be able to adjust to their world as easily as he wished.