Chill (Klance Warmth series Book 2 of +4)

4: Flame Out

When Coran returned to the hallway where he'd left Keith, he almost felt bad for the red paladin. Keith had somehow climbed up one of the support beams lining the walls and was currently clinging to the illumination crystal casing like his life depended on it. Judging by the ferocity with which Allura's mice were trying to reach him, Keith probably thought his life did depend on it.

"That's enough," Coran said. "I'll deal with him from here."

The mice squeaked and reluctantly scurried away, but not without tossing one last glare at the halfbreed. When they were finally alone, Coran sighed and called up to Keith.

"You can come down now."

"Frak you," the halfbreed snapped angrily. "You sicced those things on me for no reason. I was in the middle of something important, you damn adviser."

"Using your new human curse words doesn't make you sound more intelligent or more compelling," Coran said, placing his hands on his hips. "Now get down here and talk to me like a man, not some scared little child."

Keith bristled. "I'm not a child!" he roared.

"Then get down here and prove it to me," Coran said.

The red paladin bared his teeth, his gold and violet eyes gleaming eerily in the dim hallway. He hopped down to the floor and faced the Altean adviser directly. "I am not a child," Keith growled, enunciating each word clearly.

"Clearly," Coran said. "Children don't have mates."

Keith flushed and sniffed.

"I understand that, by your culture, you and Lance are mated for life. That's as personal and as permanent as it gets for you," Coran said, staring the red paladin down. "But that's not how it works with Alteans."

"Your culture is dead," Keith grumbled, then stiffened when he realized what he'd just said.

Coran's entire demeanor softened. "To you, maybe," he said. "For you, our planet, our people, and our culture has been extinct for over 10,000 decaphoebs. But for myself, Allura, and Lance, it's only been a few quintants since we went to sleep. The Altean language, culture, and traditions live on with us. They may even die with us. But as long as we are alive, we will embrace who we are as a people."

Keith's stance eased from its defensive edge and adopted a guilty expression. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was insensitive."

"Yes it was," Coran said. "But I understand why you said that," he added after a moment. "Nevertheless, I think you should understand that while for you, Marking Lance makes him your mate, in order for Lance to truly see you as his life partner, you have to court him." Coran smiled. "If you want to even dream of getting him into your bed, you'll need to court the prince to his sister's satisfaction. If she doesn't approve, you'll live the rest of your life sexless."

Keith paled.

"That said," Coran said, "would you be interested in learning the art of Altean courting?"

Keith shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. No doubt his legs were still in pain from Allura's mice. "Is it hard?" he asked hesitantly.

Coran grinned. "That depends on you really. I can show you how it's done, explain the process, what's expected, and what not to do as well as what you can do and should do."

"That sounds... like a lot."

"If you really see him as your mate, then he should be worth it," Coran said in an off-hand tone. His eyes, however, were shrewd and sharp. "If I recall from my cultural studies of the Galra, they were known for their unbreakable bond with their Marked mates. Nothing came before a Galra and their mate. That still stands true, correct?"