Page 92
Story: Crown Prince's Mate
“And if you didn’t feel it was time?”
He reaches down and picks up the hilt of his Orb-Blade, which he must have sent for before going out into the ice to fish. “Then I would face the challenger to the throne in the arena of the Gods and let those above decide. If they saw my victory and still did not accept my rule… then I would be forced to leave the throne, for the good of my people.”
“You believe in all that? Gods watching over us?”
“I can feel them. In my veins. I have a purpose. There’s more to this world than we can see.” Doman’s eyes are wide, the blue inhumanly bright and clear.
“And you, Gallien? Do you feel the Gods running through your blood?”
He squeezes my leg. “I am nothing but an echo. I wasn’t born of the Bond, like Doman. I come from an unbroken line, stretching back to the origins of our species. Men who share the same mind as me. That’s what I feel in my blood. Their memories, their stories, men who yearned to find their Fated Mate, who fought, who survived, who brought their aged bodies into the cryo-chamber to create their next iteration. I know their final thought, because I am them.”
“What is it?”
“To find her. To find you. And my sons will not be echoes. They will be new songs, heard through the eons.” He runs his fingers over my leg, gently stroking me, making tingles run through my body.
Titus brushes his heavy black hair back, looking every inch of a barbarian god. The ice and snow suits him. “I believe what I see. I believe what is in front of me.”
“Then you are like the Fanatics. They believe in their God of War, a deity incarnate. Obsidian. What do you see, Titus?”
“I see chaos.” He spreads his arms out, gesturing towards the endless ice of the lake through our little refuge. “Life is a flame that must be tended to. When I look up into the sky, each star is a victory. Every one of them reflects me. A fire in the darkness. That is my purpose, Adriana. And I want to have sons with you. I want to light our flames and defy this endless night.” His voice turns into a growl at the end, filled with rage, filled with a fierce will to fight against the endless horrors of the universe, against the endless cold of empty space.
“And you, Adriana? What do you see?” Doman’s eyes are intense, capturing my gaze in his. I couldn’t pull my eyes from his if I tried.
I swallow, my mouth dry. “I see a hundred billion souls I am responsible for, and who I am damning, because I know breaking Fay free will not end this war. It might be the reason it goes on for centuries, it might plunge the people I am pledged to protect into darkness, but I’m too weak to stand by and let it happen if I have a chance to do something.”
I want them to comfort me. To tell me we’re doing the right thing, planning to break her out.
No one can say a word.
Because we all know we are doing the just and moral thing, and we all know we’re playing with forces beyond our control. Queen Jasmine may be a heartless force of nature, but she and her imperial triad saw this war coming. She planted the seeds, decades ago, creating the Cyborg program in secrecy, working with the Human Alliance, and now those Mark-10s, the union of man, machine and alien, have turned the war. She let planets declare their Independence, only to allow them back under her fold, turning their economies into production for her war effort. She forged the Aurelian Empire into something more powerful, something that can stand up to the War-God.
And we’re planning to take her trump card from her. We plan to snatch the War-God's Fated Mate from her grasp. We are the ones who will drive the knife into her back and damn us all.
Doman stands, sweat dripping down his naked body, his cock heavy between his legs. “I want to see the stars.”
The other two of his triad stand, but none of them make a move for their Orb-Armor that keeps their temperatures stable.
“You three are going to freeze.”
“Not at all. We learned, from a young age, to withstand cold.” Doman lifts the heavy white coat. “Do you wish to come or wait for us?”
“I’m coming,” I say, pulling on my boots, and turning, so he can put the coat over me. He bundles it tight around me, hismovements precise and gentle, buttoning it up high on my neck. I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to how big they are, the way they tower over me.
Any room they walk into, they command, and when I am here alone with them, their strength is like a protective aura around me.
Gallien goes first, ducking out of the igloo nude, and Titus follows, growling under his breath, the sharp intake of breath the only outward concession he makes to the biting cold.
“After you,” says Doman, and I walk out of the safe little nook in the icy lake and onto the snows. He follows behind me, and the frigid night air makes me gasp.
Titus’ hands are clenched fists, but Gallien looks perfectly at ease, ignoring the breeze that makes my skin prickle into goosebumps.
My mouth drops as I look up at the sky.
The stars are diamonds, twinkling brighter than I ever seen them before, and Doman wraps his arms around my neck, hugging me tight against his powerful chest and turning me as he points. “Look,” he says, and even his voice is filled with awe as he directs my gaze.
The night sky is painted in brilliant greens and blues of the Frosthold aurora. “Gods,” I gasp, taken by the beauty of it.
“Look left,” says Gallien, his voice soft, a whisper in the silence of the night. “See that little red dot?”
He reaches down and picks up the hilt of his Orb-Blade, which he must have sent for before going out into the ice to fish. “Then I would face the challenger to the throne in the arena of the Gods and let those above decide. If they saw my victory and still did not accept my rule… then I would be forced to leave the throne, for the good of my people.”
“You believe in all that? Gods watching over us?”
“I can feel them. In my veins. I have a purpose. There’s more to this world than we can see.” Doman’s eyes are wide, the blue inhumanly bright and clear.
“And you, Gallien? Do you feel the Gods running through your blood?”
He squeezes my leg. “I am nothing but an echo. I wasn’t born of the Bond, like Doman. I come from an unbroken line, stretching back to the origins of our species. Men who share the same mind as me. That’s what I feel in my blood. Their memories, their stories, men who yearned to find their Fated Mate, who fought, who survived, who brought their aged bodies into the cryo-chamber to create their next iteration. I know their final thought, because I am them.”
“What is it?”
“To find her. To find you. And my sons will not be echoes. They will be new songs, heard through the eons.” He runs his fingers over my leg, gently stroking me, making tingles run through my body.
Titus brushes his heavy black hair back, looking every inch of a barbarian god. The ice and snow suits him. “I believe what I see. I believe what is in front of me.”
“Then you are like the Fanatics. They believe in their God of War, a deity incarnate. Obsidian. What do you see, Titus?”
“I see chaos.” He spreads his arms out, gesturing towards the endless ice of the lake through our little refuge. “Life is a flame that must be tended to. When I look up into the sky, each star is a victory. Every one of them reflects me. A fire in the darkness. That is my purpose, Adriana. And I want to have sons with you. I want to light our flames and defy this endless night.” His voice turns into a growl at the end, filled with rage, filled with a fierce will to fight against the endless horrors of the universe, against the endless cold of empty space.
“And you, Adriana? What do you see?” Doman’s eyes are intense, capturing my gaze in his. I couldn’t pull my eyes from his if I tried.
I swallow, my mouth dry. “I see a hundred billion souls I am responsible for, and who I am damning, because I know breaking Fay free will not end this war. It might be the reason it goes on for centuries, it might plunge the people I am pledged to protect into darkness, but I’m too weak to stand by and let it happen if I have a chance to do something.”
I want them to comfort me. To tell me we’re doing the right thing, planning to break her out.
No one can say a word.
Because we all know we are doing the just and moral thing, and we all know we’re playing with forces beyond our control. Queen Jasmine may be a heartless force of nature, but she and her imperial triad saw this war coming. She planted the seeds, decades ago, creating the Cyborg program in secrecy, working with the Human Alliance, and now those Mark-10s, the union of man, machine and alien, have turned the war. She let planets declare their Independence, only to allow them back under her fold, turning their economies into production for her war effort. She forged the Aurelian Empire into something more powerful, something that can stand up to the War-God.
And we’re planning to take her trump card from her. We plan to snatch the War-God's Fated Mate from her grasp. We are the ones who will drive the knife into her back and damn us all.
Doman stands, sweat dripping down his naked body, his cock heavy between his legs. “I want to see the stars.”
The other two of his triad stand, but none of them make a move for their Orb-Armor that keeps their temperatures stable.
“You three are going to freeze.”
“Not at all. We learned, from a young age, to withstand cold.” Doman lifts the heavy white coat. “Do you wish to come or wait for us?”
“I’m coming,” I say, pulling on my boots, and turning, so he can put the coat over me. He bundles it tight around me, hismovements precise and gentle, buttoning it up high on my neck. I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to how big they are, the way they tower over me.
Any room they walk into, they command, and when I am here alone with them, their strength is like a protective aura around me.
Gallien goes first, ducking out of the igloo nude, and Titus follows, growling under his breath, the sharp intake of breath the only outward concession he makes to the biting cold.
“After you,” says Doman, and I walk out of the safe little nook in the icy lake and onto the snows. He follows behind me, and the frigid night air makes me gasp.
Titus’ hands are clenched fists, but Gallien looks perfectly at ease, ignoring the breeze that makes my skin prickle into goosebumps.
My mouth drops as I look up at the sky.
The stars are diamonds, twinkling brighter than I ever seen them before, and Doman wraps his arms around my neck, hugging me tight against his powerful chest and turning me as he points. “Look,” he says, and even his voice is filled with awe as he directs my gaze.
The night sky is painted in brilliant greens and blues of the Frosthold aurora. “Gods,” I gasp, taken by the beauty of it.
“Look left,” says Gallien, his voice soft, a whisper in the silence of the night. “See that little red dot?”
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