Page 77

I walk to the medical bay as if I am in a trance, and I smell her. It is not my mind playing tricks on me. It cannot be, and yet it is.

I open the door to the long-distance sleeping bay. The three pods are in front of me, opaque, and there is a blinking green light above the middle one. I open it, and my world collapses as I see her.

She is an angel. Asleep, so peaceful, the malleable material of the pod enveloping her so that only her eyes are visible, the grey material tight against her body and letting her breathe in her sleep. I run my hand over her forehead, the only part of her I can touch, and I’m wracked with guilt.

She never gave up on us. She found her way to the Royal Palace, and she snuck onto this ship, and if I hadn’t hesitated, I would have killed the only woman I loved.

Seeing her, it all disappears. All my rage. All my thoughts of prophecies and duty, all my ideals, all my care.

Bruton’s scanner told him that there were four DNA signatures belonging to my triad. There is only one way that is possible.

She is with my child.

I don’t care if Obsidian is a God or a puppet. I don’t care of the war or destiny.

All I care about is a future with the only woman in the world who can make me whole. I will overcome the rage in my blood, the venom in my being. I will learn to shackle the beast of fury. Even if I cannot bring Lola happiness, I will bring her protection. If we are to be weapons, we will be her swords.

My head down, I walk back to the cockpit.

“Our Mate is on board with us.” I state it, and Khra jerks back from the button, panic in his aura mixed with confusion.

“You lost your Mate,” says Bruton.

“Give us free rein to leave, and we will not destroy your ship.”

Bruton’s eyes narrow. “You’re planning something. To get in closer to my other ships. To try and increase the damage. That is why you did not destroy us instantly.”

He’s brave, this prince who has faced the Rift itself, but sweat is dripping down his forehead. We stand of as if we have pistols pointed to each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.

I search his eyes, and I see the honor of his being.

“If I release the payload to you, will you let us go?”

“You have my word of honor.”

“Bolden. Go back to the hangar bay and let out the payload.”

Bolden does not speak. He sprints to the back, and I see on the dash that he’s opened the back. The four huge explosives float into space behind us, and the door closes.

I look at the dashboard. The blinking red lights quiet.

Nothing is targeting us.

“I have marked your Reaver as off-limits. None of the Aurelian Empire will stop you until you’re out of range, not unless you attack first. After that, you are like any other.” He pauses. Then his eyes narrow.

“Do not take up swords again. You are no longer warriors. You are something else.”

I nod to Bruton. I can see the confusion in his eyes, but his word is law.

Then I cut off the comms-link. I am alone. I can sense Bolden and Khra in the medical bay, and I feel their auras burning with shame, guilt that we nearly killed her, and something else, something I had not felt since the Bond first thrummed and we learned we may have a Mate.

Hope.

31

KHRA

Istumble back to the cockpit with Bolden, unable to think straight as I am consumed by the presence of my Mate. Lola’s scent is on my nostrils, her image in my eyes, so clear I cannot see where I am walking. There is no heaviness in my balls, no Mating Rage surging up, only an intense focus on her that makes everything else hazy. I stumble into the doorframe of the cockpit as I enter, jarring me out of my trance-like state. All I can see is her, peaceful and asleep in the medical bay. She risked everything for a chance to save us, but we’re not safe. Not yet, and not ever.