WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Iliana

 Official pressure

Metnur’s thousand-watt smile dimmed appreciably as he turned from Katelyn to Iliana. She almost laughed at the Matara Liaison official's noticeable attempt to brace himself. Almost.

She waited behind the sales counter as the attractive but irritating Dramok approached. “Good day, Matara Iliana.”

Her greeting was as stiff. “Dramok Metnur.”

“I guess you know why I’m here.”

“To buy candy or snacks or a nice blouse for your Matara, I hope. Otherwise, you’re taking up valuable real estate in my store that could have gone to a customer. As you see, we’re quite busy.”

In fact, a young woman sidestepped around Metnur to have her purchases rung up. “Oh, I love this scarf,” Iliana sighed wistfully as she charged a sizeable amount to the woman’s account. She hated giving up her pieces for sale, no matter how many she kept for herself.

She prolonged the transaction as long as possible, chatting with that customer and the next. Metnur, damn his hide, stood waiting, his attitude one of unending patience.

At last, Iliana had no option but to deal with him. “I went to the party given by Matara Deefa,” she snapped.

“And left early, I’m told.”

“I wasn’t feeling well. I was escorted to my shuttle by a potential clan.” Ha. A clan who’d used her to make Deefa jealous.

Metnur knew none of that. He blinked and allowed hope to creep in on the edges of his expression. “I heard, but that’s happened before.”

“I said I was escorted. On a man’s arm. Not followed to my ride by whining suitors. Which reminds me, Clan Bas was there too.”

A frown. Metnur was a pest, but like most Kalquorian men, he was protective of women. “They bothered you after they were warned?”

“I’m done being polite about it, Metnur. Next time, I break their kneecaps. Fortunately for those jerks, the clan I walked out with got rid of them.”

“It’s nice to have men ready to come to your rescue.” His statement was pointed, as usual.

“I can rescue myself, and I will do so. Including from a meddling Dramok and agency that insist on pushing me to clan when the courts say I don’t have to. Are you acquainted with Dramok Hanvel?” Sudden inspiration allowed her to speak the name she might have choked on otherwise.

“The name is familiar.”

“It should be. He’s a city councilman who’s running for the director post. He wasn’t pleased to hear about how I’ve been harassed by your office. His brother, Royal Councilman Lathen, is also aware of the issue. I might file a direct complaint with them both.”

Another customer interrupted their conversation. Iliana switched on her smile and rang her up.

When the patron departed, Metnur resumed the conversation where they’d left off. “The courts have already ruled the Matara Liaison Office can contact you about potential opportunities to clan, Iliana.”

“Well, we’ll find out how they feel once the city and Royal Council get involved.” She’d never been good at bluffing, but she was learning. Her brother’s Dramok was an expert, and Iliana had made a point to study and emulate him as best as she could.

“Katelyn is excited about Dramok Lathen’s clan courting her, so I assume it was Clan Hanvel who helped you with Clan Bas and escorted you to your shuttle?”

“As a matter of fact, it was them. Nice fellows.” When they weren’t being conniving assholes. She wondered at the anger that rose fresh at their duplicity. She’d read them the riot act. That should have burned the fury off.

“Will you be seeing them again?”

Iliana barked harsh laughter. “Those three? Those…”

Hold on. Wait just a second.

Inspiration was back, showing her a path out of Metnur’s irritating pestering…at least for a few days. Maybe longer if he didn’t check her story with Hanvel and his merry jerk men.

Iliana seized on the opportunity. “Fine. But I swear, if you say ‘I told you so,’ I’ll beat you with my brother’s baseball bat.”

Metnur’s face lit. “You rascal, you’re giving a clan an opportunity? You weren’t going to tell me? I can’t decide on whether to yell or congratulate you.”

She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t actually claimed she was dating them. She waved him off without smiling. Displaying anything but her usual impatience with him would be suspect. “Show your approval by getting out and leaving me alone.”

“When are you meeting with them again?”

He never quit. “Slow down, Rocket Man. You know I won’t jump into anything that fast.”

“Iliana, there are other Mataras they could talk to if you don’t give them a real break. If you’re at all interested—”

“They stopped by this morning, and we’re doing this at my pace.” Which was a full stop. “Don’t worry. I did all in my power to make an impression when they came to visit me.”

He beamed at her. “I’m proud of you for taking this chance.”

“Baseball bat, Metnur. You’re edging close to that ‘I told you so.’”

“I’ll save it for your clanning ceremony.”

“Out. Now.”

He left, wearing a smug smile that set Iliana’s teeth grinding. How many assholes could one day send her way?

 

Releasing September (specific date not yet determined). 

Their agreement didn’t include falling in love. What happens when a ruse becomes reality?

Iliana Rossi’s reluctance to join a Kalquorian clan comes from a terrible loss that leaves no room in her heart for any men. Dodging the alien three-man clans eager for a Earther mate is a full-time job, and she’s running out of patience with those desperate to change her mind.

Hanvel, Selbi, and Cosdas pursue Matara Deefa, a rare unclanned Kalquorian woman. She’s everything they could possibly want. But her parents have promised her to another clan, and Clan Hanvel can’t seem to convince Deefa that love is more important than rank and family approval.

When Iliana meets Clan Hanvel, the solution seems obvious. They embark on a fake courtship that satisfies societal and family pressure; a relationship that requires no love, no commitment, and no responsibilities to each other.

But when passion wakes for the reluctant foursome, they have a choice to make: loyalty to the impossible past or a chance for love they can keep.