Page 159
Story: Crown Prince's Mate
Obsidian swings his blade in a hard arc as Doman musters all his strength, driving forward, not trying to avoid the War-Gods blow.
Doman’s head is cut clean from his neck, his head spiraling in the air. His bright blue eyes lock into mine, still conscious.
“Forgive me,”he telepaths, then his aura drains from my mind, leaving me empty and alone, surrounded by alien warriors.
The crowd breaks their silence, roaring in victory, but then they hush at once as Obsidian looks down.
Doman’s blade deactivated with his death, the hilt falling into the black sands, but I see the stream of blood from Obsidian’s chest.
He drove his blade into Obsidian’s black heart. He knew he would die to get his chance.
Black blood pumps.
Obsidian stumbles, looking towards the stealth ship. The War-God falls to his knees as Fay runs shrieking into the arena, carrying her wailing baby, rushing to his side. She cradles his head as it lolls back, and the War-God sees his Mate one last time, sees his son before he slumps heavily in the black sands.
Cal is walking out into the arena as if he’s drunk, unsteady as he makes his way towards his fallen brother.
I’m stunned, just like the crowd.
Their God was toppled.
The war is over.
The Fanatics will splinter into the universe as bandits, raping and pillaging. Queen Jasmine will rule in grief and torment in the wake of her firstborn’s death. Her vengeance will be insatiable as she hunts down every branded Aurelian until none remain.
And I will be alone.
Alone in my mind, for thousands of years, the Bond extending my torment. I will have known what it is to be Bonded to three men I love, and to lose them.
There will be nothing but emptiness forever as my family dies of old age and I’m left with nothing but memories.
I rip my eyes from the bodies of my triad, looking up to the ancient sun. I hate it. I hate it, I hate every star, and I want them to wink out of existence and burn up in my pain.
The sun inverts.
The blue sky above turns jet black.
The warm red glow of the sun turns to the darkest blue, sucking in light and life.
It’s incomprehensible, yet I know I have not gone mad. There’s an eerie familiarity.
The sun looks like X4-Z when it was pulled out of existence during the test of the Planet Killer. It’s day, but there’s no light, and I see every star in the universe. They are blue-black dots, the darkest diamonds. I step forward towards my fallen men, and I feel like I’m stepping out of my body, my soul ripping itself from its physical form.
Then it’s gone. Everything goes black for an instant, like I’ve blinked and the universe blinked with me.
Doman, Titus, and Gallien stand in the arena of the Gods under the bright sun, across from Obsidian.
Their blades are ignited, they are halfway through a stride forward, and they stop, frozen in place. Their auras pulse in my mind as if they never left. Instead of battle-ready ice, they are confused, uncomprehending.
The pane of glass is in front of me.
I’m back in the cockpit of the Reaver, where I was minutes ago before the battle started.
The Aurelians stand across from each other, blades humming in their hands, unsure what to do. The crowd isshifting, no longer statues, every one of us trying to understand what just happened.
My hand shakes as I look down at my watch.
We’re… three... No. Four minutes ago.
Doman’s head is cut clean from his neck, his head spiraling in the air. His bright blue eyes lock into mine, still conscious.
“Forgive me,”he telepaths, then his aura drains from my mind, leaving me empty and alone, surrounded by alien warriors.
The crowd breaks their silence, roaring in victory, but then they hush at once as Obsidian looks down.
Doman’s blade deactivated with his death, the hilt falling into the black sands, but I see the stream of blood from Obsidian’s chest.
He drove his blade into Obsidian’s black heart. He knew he would die to get his chance.
Black blood pumps.
Obsidian stumbles, looking towards the stealth ship. The War-God falls to his knees as Fay runs shrieking into the arena, carrying her wailing baby, rushing to his side. She cradles his head as it lolls back, and the War-God sees his Mate one last time, sees his son before he slumps heavily in the black sands.
Cal is walking out into the arena as if he’s drunk, unsteady as he makes his way towards his fallen brother.
I’m stunned, just like the crowd.
Their God was toppled.
The war is over.
The Fanatics will splinter into the universe as bandits, raping and pillaging. Queen Jasmine will rule in grief and torment in the wake of her firstborn’s death. Her vengeance will be insatiable as she hunts down every branded Aurelian until none remain.
And I will be alone.
Alone in my mind, for thousands of years, the Bond extending my torment. I will have known what it is to be Bonded to three men I love, and to lose them.
There will be nothing but emptiness forever as my family dies of old age and I’m left with nothing but memories.
I rip my eyes from the bodies of my triad, looking up to the ancient sun. I hate it. I hate it, I hate every star, and I want them to wink out of existence and burn up in my pain.
The sun inverts.
The blue sky above turns jet black.
The warm red glow of the sun turns to the darkest blue, sucking in light and life.
It’s incomprehensible, yet I know I have not gone mad. There’s an eerie familiarity.
The sun looks like X4-Z when it was pulled out of existence during the test of the Planet Killer. It’s day, but there’s no light, and I see every star in the universe. They are blue-black dots, the darkest diamonds. I step forward towards my fallen men, and I feel like I’m stepping out of my body, my soul ripping itself from its physical form.
Then it’s gone. Everything goes black for an instant, like I’ve blinked and the universe blinked with me.
Doman, Titus, and Gallien stand in the arena of the Gods under the bright sun, across from Obsidian.
Their blades are ignited, they are halfway through a stride forward, and they stop, frozen in place. Their auras pulse in my mind as if they never left. Instead of battle-ready ice, they are confused, uncomprehending.
The pane of glass is in front of me.
I’m back in the cockpit of the Reaver, where I was minutes ago before the battle started.
The Aurelians stand across from each other, blades humming in their hands, unsure what to do. The crowd isshifting, no longer statues, every one of us trying to understand what just happened.
My hand shakes as I look down at my watch.
We’re… three... No. Four minutes ago.
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