Page 98 of I Married Kayog
After thirty-eight years and counting, I just kept falling more and more in love with this male.
“There’s no question that something foul is happening,” Tedrick said carefully, reclaiming our attention. “But like I said, our hands are tied. All the evidence is insanely incriminating against Malaya. I do not doubt her innocence, but we need proof or at least some sort of lead. We have none of that.”
“Give us Maeve,” Kayog said forcefully. “She’s the Enforcer’s best hacker. With her current ‘free agent’ status, she will be able to dig into even more restricted places without bringing unwanted attention to your organization or the UPO. Make it happen, Tedrick. I’ve never made demands or threats. And this isn’t a threat either. I’m just giving you the fair warning that if nothing can be done on the legal front, then I will take matters into my own hands.”
“Do not act recklessly, Kayog,” Tedrick warned. “We’re on the same team. Do what you can on your end to buy us as much time as possible. We’ll do what we can on our side.”
“Thank you. That’s all I ask,” Kayog said, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“Yes, thank you,” I echoed.
Tedrick gave us a sad smile. He still didn’t believe that Malaya could be our reincarnated daughter. However, he had known us long enough to realize that we weren’t prone to flights of fancy. Therefore, he acknowledged the real possibility that our claims might be true.
We ended the communication and completed the long journey to Molvi. Our respective assistants did a fantastic job of scheduling a slew of meetings with the various Hell Lords managing the prison planet. The Obosian nobles who acted as wardens there had been named as such by humans due to their appearance reminiscent of demons found in Earth mythology.
They were tall, with massive horns, silver-white hair, leathery bat wings, and a long tail. Unlike the demons of human lore, the Obosians had a dark-gray skin, luminous silver-white or blueish eyes surrounded by black sclera, and a smattering of dark scales on their foreheads, arms, and legs. With Molvi being the most savage and unforgiving prison in the galaxy, it perfectly fitted the human description of Hell, thus making the wardens Hell Lords.
The problem was how rabid Obosians were about upholding the law. In their eyes, criminals were the foulest type of individuals. Therefore, the majority of potential candidates we met immediately shut down even considering a union with a convicted murderer. Implying that one of their judges could have wrongly convicted an innocent person was akin to blasphemy. We expected resistance, but not this fierce and this unforgiving. Without a mate to keep Malaya out of the actual holding area for the prisoners, our daughter would never survive long enough for true justice to run its course.
It wasn’t until we met with Lord Amreth that hope finally returned. Despite being as stuck up when it came to upholding the law, Amreth was a truly outstanding male with a kind heart and a sharp mind. He witnessed events that led him to believe that there was indeed corruption taking place, however unbelievable it seemed. Therefore, should we not find Malaya’s soulmate among the other candidates we would meet with, Amreth agreed to take her as a mate to keep her safe until the investigation was concluded.
I nearly wept with relief. The same gratitude radiated loudly from my mate. With a much lighter heart, we went on to two more meetings, feeling totally unfazed by the expected rejection from these potential partners now that we had a fallback plan secured.
And then we met Lord Kronos.
Where the other potential partners had simply expressed curiosity as to what brought us to them, Kronos radiated aggravation from the moment we landed. I previously met Kronos after he had been rescued by Maeve and Helio—another couple my mate had paired. He had been held prisoner by a foul Nazhral female called Saydi, who had been abducting young Edocits to harvest the down leaves from their hair, which was the most potent—but safest—recreational drug in the galaxy.
He was standing, back and wings stiff, looking at us with eyes narrowed with suspicion as we disembarked. The landing pad was located on an elevated plateau overlooking one of the many stunning terraces of his mansion.
“If you’re here to ask me to release a prisoner for one of your matchmakings, the answer is no,” Kronos said preemptively in an imperative tone in lieu of greeting. “Whoever you want to pair with one of my wards will have to come and settle on Molvi with their match.”
“That’s exactly the goal!” Kayog said with the excess enthusiasm that always destabilized grumpy candidates like this one.
I repressed a smirk as we closed the distance with the impressive male. My mate could be quite the irreverent jerk when he wanted. He particularly excelled at putting people back in their place with a smile and a kind word, which made it sting even more.
Despite our very respectable heights, Kronos towered over us. Human women—and females from many other species—systematically fanned themselves in the presence of Obosians. They were indeed gorgeous species. Just like Amreth, Kronos was extremely easy on the eye, and his many piercings—deemed trophies and signs of status for his people—only added to his dangerous charm.
“And hello, Lord Aramon,” my mate said in an overly sweet voice. “As you’ve apparently guessed, I am Kayog Voln—though I would prefer you simply call me Kayog. And this is my lovely wife, Linsea Voln, who I understand you’ve met before.”
He scrunched his face with embarrassment to have thus been called out over his rudeness in not properly greeting us upon our arrival.
“I have indeed. Welcome to Molvi, Linsea, Kayog,” he said begrudgingly, nodding at each of us in turn, before staring at Kayog. “You may call me Kronos.”
My interactions with him at the time of his rescue had been cordial. But Obosians tended to be a little distant. Some perceived their attitude as being haughty. However, my frequent interactions with them in my line of work had made me realize that it was merely their tradition of holding oneself in proper form and decorum that gave the misleading impression that they were snobs and thought themselves superior to others.
“Excellent!” Kayog said with the same enthusiasm that was clearly getting under Kronos’s skin. “We have much to discuss. Serious matters.”
“Then let’s go to my office. This way,” Kronos said in a grumpy tone.
I wanted to cut this short. That male was as gorgeous as he was obnoxious. And frankly, I was getting fed up with making the same pointless sales pitch to self-righteous fools too stupid to realize they were in fact the ones unworthy of my daughter.
However, something shifted in Kayog’s attitude as the Hell Lord led us into the office of his spectacular mansion. Shock, excitement, and triumph swelled within him.
No fucking way?!
I cast a worried look at my mate only to have him give me a subtle nod with as wide a smile as his beak allowed. My mind reeled at this most improbable outcome. A part of me wanted to rejoice at the thought that we had found our daughter’s soulmate. Lord Kronos belonged to one of the wealthiest and most influential noble houses of Vargos—the Obosian homeworld. They would have the resources and determination to fight tooth and nail to have a member of their family cleared of any wrongdoing. However, that same elite status would makethem even less likely to consider any kind of association with a convicted criminal.
A tough battle lay ahead.
