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Now they are ready.

I don my battle robe, cinching my belt around my waist. The familiar weight of my Orb-Blade hilt makes my fingers twitch. The Orb glows in anticipation.

I stride out of the bedroom and into the cockpit before I activate my blade. My triad stays back, sensing I want a moment alone to look out at the endless expanse of space. I balance my blade on the back of my wrist, the length of it humming with blue-black energy as the Orb in the hilt glows in long, rhythmic pulses as if it has its own heartbeat.

My blade was handed down to me by my father, the Emperor. He told me it was the blade that cut down General Asmod, when my father and his triad were fighting for their lives in the Arena of the Gods. He cut down the Old Ways and took the throne.

Now my blade has a hunger for Asmod’s lineage. I will kill the General’s son. The only thing that can kill a God is another God, and when I cut him down, his devotees will fall in line.

I rested only an hour. Enough to refresh myself. My parents will have learned of Fay’s disappearing—but they haven’t sent me any news regarding it. That’s good. They are keeping her escape secret, just as we predicted.

On my radar, there are countless Reavers at a respectful distance. An honor guard, and one that I had planned to use to pick up Adriana’s escape pod when I sent her away before shifting into the heart of darkness. My lips curl back as I know she is right.

I can’t trust my parents with my Mate. Not when they would use her against me to keep me from facing Obsidian.

And all the Reavers in the universe can’t stop me from Orb-Shifting.

My triad’s heavy boots announce them before they enter the cockpit. They’re dressed for battle, in the free-flowing robes that allow for ease of movement.

“Open holo-vid,” orders Gallien to the ship’s AI. As it flickers up, he glances to me. “Obsidian is addressing his people. And the universe.”

The stars are obscured by the holo-vid which shows Obsidian on his black throne, above the sands of his coliseum. This message is not just to us—but broadcasted to the universe.

The intelligence services on Colossus must be scrambling, generals conferring and setting up meetings to understand why the War-God has ended his assault and returned to his homeplanet. The video feed is authenticated—there’s no AI illusion here. It’s transmitting base reality.

He sits, straight-backed and monstrous, on his black throne overlooking the sands. Shirtless, his muscled flesh is marred by nuclear burns and the black oil that his twisted heart pumps through his veins. His hard features are warped by his wounds, his teeth sharp and glistening ivory, and he is clad in only a loincloth of furs.

He is as he was found, on the Godsforsaken planet he should have rotted on for eternity.

On his lap, the hilt of his Orb-Blade rests, ready to be activated. The Orb pulses in rhythm with my own, each eager to be the one that drinks of life-blood.

“I have been challenged,” he snarls, wolf-like and intense. Across the universe, homes are tuning in, trillions of eyes glued to their holo-vid projectors. “I accept. This is the ancient ways of our species. I have led you into countless battles. You have all branded yourselves in my likeness. Listen to me now. If I am slain, do not avenge me. Throw down your swords and surrender, for if I die, Fate itself has forsaken us.” His lips curl back, in the most horrific way. “But I will not be slain, my legions. And when I take the crown prince’s head, next we march on Colossus for his fathers.”

There is a roar in response. We can’t see them from this angle, but the stands of the arena are packed with his soldiers. When I cut their God down, they will surround me, and they will bow to me, just as Obsidian will bow as he falls to his knees dripping blood.

“I welcome you, Prince Doman. Come to my domain. Come, and die.” The holo-vid feed cuts off, leaving us looking out at the infinite stars.

On the Reaver’s flight map, I see the blinking icons of my honor guard closing in.

They will bet too slow to stop me.

All the ships in the Aurelian fleet can’t stop me from Orb-Shifting, and with his pregnant Mate following the same coordinates, Obsidian has no option but to bring me safely to him. With a practiced flick of my fingers, I start up the long-dormant drive.

It hasn’t been activated since the Rift started to drown our ships in darkness, and now I’m trusting our greatest enemy to guide us through oblivion.

My watch buzzes, and I bring it to my ear. Cal’s voice greets me. “I’ve got the preliminary coordinates. We’ll refine once he sends the rest.” I can hear him swallow over the feed. He might live in a world of his own, but he knows how dangerous this is going to be for me and my triad.

Our Orb-Drives hum to life, and the authenticated coms-link request blinks red. I answer instantly.

Obsidian wastes no time. His hard voice rattles off coordinates. Gallien punches them in as Titus white-knuckles the hilt of his blade. My heart is steady, my mind clear.

I smell her scent an instant before her feet patter in. Deactivating my blade, I turn, wrapping her up in my embrace as reality blinks out of existence.

Together, we are plunged into the place between worlds.

The white glow of my Reaver’s interior disappears, and I am left in space holding my Mate, my battle-brothers surrounding me. Then the stars blink out, one by one, until I am in endless nothingness, clutching her tight against me.

The poisonous thought infects my mind—has Obsidian’s control of the Rift become so great that he could pluck Fay from the darkness and leave us in oblivion forever?