One Thousand Brides by Solange Ayre

Delos wondered why they were refusing to see what he realized so clearly. “You’ve all been married. I’ve been married. Did it ever do us any good to oppose something our wives really wanted?”
    All fell silent. Asher grimaced down at the handheld computer. Bardus cleared his throat. Goldus rolled his eyes.
    Finally, Hirdos said, “Well…perhaps you know best. I vote for the ceremony.”
    Eventually the vote came down to four to one, with only Taddus voting against the others. Delos could hardly wait to tell Janis that her plan would be followed.
    “A moment of your time,” Taddus said as the other council members departed. The big primus held up his right hand and extended his claws. “You’re going to Janis now, aren’t you?”
    “I need to tell her about the council’s decision.”
    Taddus took him by the shoulder. Delos stood rooted, trying to ignore the pain as long claws bit into his flesh.
    “I can’t stop you from mounting her at the Spring Running. But don’t forget whose mate she’ll be.”
    Delos stared into Taddus’ yellow eyes. “You can claim her. But you’ll never have her heart.”
    “You’re naïve, young Secondus. Females love males with power.”
    “Janis isn’t like that!”
    “She’ll forget all about you once I’ve taken her a few dozen times.” Taddus brought his face closer. “Is she as ripe and juicy as she looks? Have you licked the sweet cream from her sex?”
    Sweat trickled down Delos’ face from the pain in his shoulder. He trembled with the effort of controlling himself. Losing the battle, he extended his claws.
    “Will you raise your claws to me?” Taddus whispered. “You know our law.”
    Gritting his teeth, Delos forced his claws back inside.
    “I didn’t think you wanted to be gelded by the council.” Taddus rubbed his cheek against Delos’. A growl escaped Delos at the insult.
    Taddus smirked. “Go to her now, with my scent on you.” Laughing, he left the council chamber.
    * * * * *
    Delos found Janis in the Great Hall, sharing Third Meal with the rest of the Brides. He located a free stool and pulled it up beside her.
    “Afternoon greetings, Dr. Delos,” she said coolly, as if they were mere acquaintances. As though she’d never writhed under his mouth in the throes of an orgasm.
    “The same to you, Janis Stone,” he answered with formal politeness, longing to do something that would establish her as his own in front of everyone present.
    He gave the rest of the Brides a general smile. Many of them had been his patients and would be again, once they conceived. He couldn’t help noticing that some gave him covertly interested glances and he wondered what Janis had been saying about him.
    Did a male ever know what females discussed when no males were present?
    The Brides had been served a great delicacy— tregarth shoots—but apparently no one had demonstrated how to eat them. They were chewing on the hard ends of the stalks, which were edible but bitter.
    “Is there some trick to eating these?” Jan asked him.
    He showed her how to hold the stalk in her left palm, extend the claw on her right forefinger and run the sharp edge along the stalk to release the thick white cream within.
    “Scoop it out with your finger.”
    She gave him a doubtful look but did as he’d instructed, lifting a dollop of cream to her mouth and licking it. Her face changed. “That’s delicious!”
    The other Brides were eager to experiment. Soon they were opening the stalks, some successfully, some awkwardly. Cutting too deeply brought great gobs of the cream dripping out, provoking little shrieks from Brides with stained tunics.
    “Are you hungry?” Jan asked him.
    Only for you. “I had Second Meal,” he said, not really an answer.
    Looking into his eyes, she skimmed her finger through the cream, then held it to his lips. “Have some.”
    His gaze never left hers as he grasped her wrist and sucked her finger slowly into his mouth. The oozing sweetness