Page 100
Story: Crown Prince's Mate
They’re always ready for battle, even here, deep in the confines of the royal flagship, the one place that should be safe.
Titus stops abruptly, jaw clenched, and glares at Doman, facing him down. The two huge men lock eyes in a silent, intense exchange, subtle emotions flickering over their near unreadable features. The subtle shifts in expressions—a tightening around the eyes, a flicker of anger—speak of a conversation I’m not privy to.
I’m walled out of their telepathic communication, an invisible thread weaving through the air that excludes me as Doman and Titus argue in silence. I feel even more isolated than when I was alone, waiting for the triad to return. My simmering frustration is starting to boil over, and it takes all my diplomatic training to keep my face blank, to stop my hands from balling into fists, but as Doman growls under his breath, shaking his head, I can’t take it a second longer.
“I was just forced to sit here for hours, not knowing if we were under attack, and now you’re speaking to each other like I don’t exist.”
Titus whips to face me, his black mane flowing, framing his barbaric wrath. His visage is a mask of fury, but it’s not directed at me.
“Bringing her into a battlefield? When Obsidian could have shifted in his entire fucking fleet? We don’t deserve a Fated Mate if this is how we protect her!” His voice erupts, booming out, all the more jarring for the terse silence of the three men broken in his outburst.
His words strike a nerve. “I’m not going to be locked away in a safe little jail cell. I’m not going to be treated like that. I’m not a vase, to be put in storage where it can’t be knocked over.”
Doman is caught in the middle. His eyes flick from Titus to me, then he opens his mouth to offer some justification, or to comfort me, and I don’t wait to find out which. I raise my hand. “This isn’t just about a ship battle. The Planet-Killers we just tested affect our entire universe, not just you three. I’m not going to be left in the dark, waiting behind to hear what happened, and I’m not going to spend my life in a safe little hiding hole while you three risk yours.”
My words hang in the air, heavy, and the three Aurelians exchange glances, not sure how to react. They haven’t taken orders from anyone since their time in Academy, and they aren’t used to being spoken to as equals.
“Look, I’m not asking for a front-row seat on the battlefield.” My voice softens, but it’s laced with resolve. “But I need to be included. I’ve got a hundred billion souls resting on my decisions. They rely on me, and I can’t do what’s right if I’m blindfolded.”
I stride out of the room, letting them chew on my words and giving them space.
29
TITUS
My nostrils flare, tasting her scent as my mate storms out, relishing the fierceness, the determination of her being. She’s fire, Adriana, burning embers that ignite me.
“The Gods truly have a sense of humor,” says Gallien dryly, tracing her body as the doors shut behind her.
After the tension of battle, the frustration of Obsidian not falling for our trap, I’ve been ripped apart, hating myself for allowing Adriana to be so close to danger, yet aching for her, knowing the only relief I could get was sating myself in her perfection.
“Glib. Always fucking glib,” I snarl, not liking Gallien’s tone.
“You should apologize to her,” states Doman, not as an order as leader of our triad but simply a suggestion that comes out of nowhere.
“Apologize? For what!”
“You treated her like a possession. Like a fragile object to be guarded tightly.”
“She’s a human. She is fragile. And she does need to be guarded tightly. I told you two we shouldn’t have let her come.”
“She had every right.” Doman’s voice gets colder. “She is not just our Mate. The entirety of Pentaris relies on her. She could not scorn her duties.”
“Oh? And we scorned ours by letting her come. We could have baited Obsidian. But you ordered a retreat.”
Doman’s aura flashes with frustration, because he knows I’m right. He steps in closer to me, until we’re looking eye to eye. “What would you have me do? Lead the Imperator away from all support, so Obsidian himself would fall into our trap? I had no choice. I couldn’t risk her.”
I stare into Doman’s cold blue eyes, then growl, needing to move. I pace the room, but I can’t think. My cock throbs in frustrated lust, my muscles tense, and the only thing that could set me right is to sate myself in her, to drive myself into her slick warmth, to feel the moment her body surrenders completely to me.
I clench my fist. Because deep down, I know she hasn’t given herself to me. While her body may writhe in ecstasy, while she may cry out my name, until she rips the ring off my finger that severs the chance of our Bond, she will never be mine.
And she would never let herself be Bonded to a man who views her as a prize to be won and hidden away. Her people chose her because of her determination. Her spirit. A spirit that would wilt away if I put her where I wanted, in the dungeons of our estates on Colossus, protected by a thousand Reavers darting over top, never letting another man within ten miles of our home.
“Squires!” I yell, and the doors hiss open, the triad of our young warriors in training taking our Orb-Armor and rushing it away before fetching my robe. I cinch the belt tight around my waist, the familiar weight of my Orb-Blade ever-present, and bark out the command for them to leave. They scurry away, not wanting to be near us when they feel my rage.
“You’re right,” I say finally, brushing the hair from my eyes. “She had every right to be here.” I nod, slowly, gathering my thoughts. I’ve been unsettled since seeing that black arc of lightning from the long-dormant Planet-Killer, the way reality seemed to bend, one moment an entire planet before my eyes, the next, nothing. The tension of waiting, weapons trained on empty space, preparing for Obsidian’s assault drove me mad. There is a clarity to war, to wielding my blade on the battlefield, to manning the guns of a Reaver and cutting down your enemies.
This, this waiting, this diplomacy, this uncertainty kills me.
Titus stops abruptly, jaw clenched, and glares at Doman, facing him down. The two huge men lock eyes in a silent, intense exchange, subtle emotions flickering over their near unreadable features. The subtle shifts in expressions—a tightening around the eyes, a flicker of anger—speak of a conversation I’m not privy to.
I’m walled out of their telepathic communication, an invisible thread weaving through the air that excludes me as Doman and Titus argue in silence. I feel even more isolated than when I was alone, waiting for the triad to return. My simmering frustration is starting to boil over, and it takes all my diplomatic training to keep my face blank, to stop my hands from balling into fists, but as Doman growls under his breath, shaking his head, I can’t take it a second longer.
“I was just forced to sit here for hours, not knowing if we were under attack, and now you’re speaking to each other like I don’t exist.”
Titus whips to face me, his black mane flowing, framing his barbaric wrath. His visage is a mask of fury, but it’s not directed at me.
“Bringing her into a battlefield? When Obsidian could have shifted in his entire fucking fleet? We don’t deserve a Fated Mate if this is how we protect her!” His voice erupts, booming out, all the more jarring for the terse silence of the three men broken in his outburst.
His words strike a nerve. “I’m not going to be locked away in a safe little jail cell. I’m not going to be treated like that. I’m not a vase, to be put in storage where it can’t be knocked over.”
Doman is caught in the middle. His eyes flick from Titus to me, then he opens his mouth to offer some justification, or to comfort me, and I don’t wait to find out which. I raise my hand. “This isn’t just about a ship battle. The Planet-Killers we just tested affect our entire universe, not just you three. I’m not going to be left in the dark, waiting behind to hear what happened, and I’m not going to spend my life in a safe little hiding hole while you three risk yours.”
My words hang in the air, heavy, and the three Aurelians exchange glances, not sure how to react. They haven’t taken orders from anyone since their time in Academy, and they aren’t used to being spoken to as equals.
“Look, I’m not asking for a front-row seat on the battlefield.” My voice softens, but it’s laced with resolve. “But I need to be included. I’ve got a hundred billion souls resting on my decisions. They rely on me, and I can’t do what’s right if I’m blindfolded.”
I stride out of the room, letting them chew on my words and giving them space.
29
TITUS
My nostrils flare, tasting her scent as my mate storms out, relishing the fierceness, the determination of her being. She’s fire, Adriana, burning embers that ignite me.
“The Gods truly have a sense of humor,” says Gallien dryly, tracing her body as the doors shut behind her.
After the tension of battle, the frustration of Obsidian not falling for our trap, I’ve been ripped apart, hating myself for allowing Adriana to be so close to danger, yet aching for her, knowing the only relief I could get was sating myself in her perfection.
“Glib. Always fucking glib,” I snarl, not liking Gallien’s tone.
“You should apologize to her,” states Doman, not as an order as leader of our triad but simply a suggestion that comes out of nowhere.
“Apologize? For what!”
“You treated her like a possession. Like a fragile object to be guarded tightly.”
“She’s a human. She is fragile. And she does need to be guarded tightly. I told you two we shouldn’t have let her come.”
“She had every right.” Doman’s voice gets colder. “She is not just our Mate. The entirety of Pentaris relies on her. She could not scorn her duties.”
“Oh? And we scorned ours by letting her come. We could have baited Obsidian. But you ordered a retreat.”
Doman’s aura flashes with frustration, because he knows I’m right. He steps in closer to me, until we’re looking eye to eye. “What would you have me do? Lead the Imperator away from all support, so Obsidian himself would fall into our trap? I had no choice. I couldn’t risk her.”
I stare into Doman’s cold blue eyes, then growl, needing to move. I pace the room, but I can’t think. My cock throbs in frustrated lust, my muscles tense, and the only thing that could set me right is to sate myself in her, to drive myself into her slick warmth, to feel the moment her body surrenders completely to me.
I clench my fist. Because deep down, I know she hasn’t given herself to me. While her body may writhe in ecstasy, while she may cry out my name, until she rips the ring off my finger that severs the chance of our Bond, she will never be mine.
And she would never let herself be Bonded to a man who views her as a prize to be won and hidden away. Her people chose her because of her determination. Her spirit. A spirit that would wilt away if I put her where I wanted, in the dungeons of our estates on Colossus, protected by a thousand Reavers darting over top, never letting another man within ten miles of our home.
“Squires!” I yell, and the doors hiss open, the triad of our young warriors in training taking our Orb-Armor and rushing it away before fetching my robe. I cinch the belt tight around my waist, the familiar weight of my Orb-Blade ever-present, and bark out the command for them to leave. They scurry away, not wanting to be near us when they feel my rage.
“You’re right,” I say finally, brushing the hair from my eyes. “She had every right to be here.” I nod, slowly, gathering my thoughts. I’ve been unsettled since seeing that black arc of lightning from the long-dormant Planet-Killer, the way reality seemed to bend, one moment an entire planet before my eyes, the next, nothing. The tension of waiting, weapons trained on empty space, preparing for Obsidian’s assault drove me mad. There is a clarity to war, to wielding my blade on the battlefield, to manning the guns of a Reaver and cutting down your enemies.
This, this waiting, this diplomacy, this uncertainty kills me.
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