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ADRIANA

“ Y ou… you liar,” I spit out, the betrayal splitting me in two. “How long? How long did you plan this?”

“This is the only way.” Doman is emotionless.

I stare at him, still reeling. So noble, inspiring men to war. So proud and honorable, the golden prince who inspires devotion in all those who serve him. His royal features, his purity, all of it. Just a facade.

He’s a killer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And I was his key. Wedding me gave him the opportunity to get the leverage he needed to face down Obsidian.

“Your word is shit. You said he’d change. That if he knew Fay was safe, if you just let him feel her, he’d stop, he’d end his campaign, he’d…” I trail off, not sure what I’m saying anymore.

“If I don’t kill him, he’ll never stop.” Doman is flanked by his battle-brothers. I look at them for any shred of humanity, any shred of emotion. There’s nothing.

They might as well be three unhearing statues.

I need to find a new tactic, a new way of reaching them.

Because as strong as Doman and his battle-brothers are, I know what happens to them if they face up against that monster.

They get ripped to shreds.

I shake my head. “If you kill him, it won’t change anything. You’ll cut the head off a hydra. There will tens of thousands of years of bloodshed. The Priests… they won’t give up. The Fanatics will splinter into a thousand war-bands, raping and pillaging.”

“A God cannot die. When I slay Obsidian, I will rip his beating heart from his chest. I will feast on it, and they will bow to me.”

Doman states it matter-of-factly, and I see, with horror, what he plans to become.

He won’t let the factions of Fanatics splinter off.

When you kill a God, you become a God. He will be crowned their king. They will bow to him.

I’m standing in front of him without realizing I walked to him, my body moving without thought. I rake my nails down against his chest, wanting to hurt him, wanting to free myself of him, the utter powerlessness of the situation flooding my mind.

He lets my nails dig into his perfect ivory skin, the crimson of fresh blood making me sick. He doesn’t try to stop me.

Then Doman reaches down, taking my chin in his hand, firm, forcing me to meet his ice-blue eyes. “The prophecies, Adriana. It isn’t coincidence. Bruton saw them. Aeris knows. There’s something in the Rift. It’s coming for us, and I will unite my species to face it, before the universe is lost.”

His touch is poison.

I pull away from him, rushing out of the cockpit, almost at a run, down the hallway. I slam my hand against one of the buttons to open the door and enter a bedroom at random. The spartan, clean white walls mock me. The huge bed is made for an alien, and I am a stranger here.

The door hisses shut behind me, but I don’t collapse on the bed. I’m filled with hurt and rage. I slam my palm against the wall, the stinging pain centering me.

How long did they plan to use Fay as leverage to force Obsidian into a duel?

Did I even feel the three of them in that vision that set this all in motion, or did they know how to manipulate their auras, to hide their true cunning?

The laughter, the tears we shared, falling asleep in their arms, feeling so safe when the three of them knew they were saving Fay not because it was the right to do, but because it was the only way to be certain the War-God would accept their challenge and pause his assault to face them in combat.

Three conniving bastards, three liars who tricked me every second they were with me.

The tears fill my eyes, because I’ve lost him once before. When Doman leapt over the magma flow, and I thought he was gone, burnt to ashes, it destroyed me.

And if he faces Obsidian, I will lose him again.

Nothing can stand against that beast. Not even my triad.

Not unless…

I hate him more than I ever have. I hate the three of them more than when I first felt them, when I was overwhelmed by their arrogance, their power, their terrible will to conquer all that stands before them.

And yet, the thought of life without them is as empty as the dead space that surrounds our ship.

The wedding dress is a cruel joke. I smooth it, the delicate beauty of it, designed by the person in this world who loves me the most.

My chin up, I exit the bedroom. I stride back to the cockpit, towards the low voices of my triad.

They’re surprised when I return, the three of them turning to face me.

Gallien, with his cold, intellectual curiosity, looking at me like I’m a new species to be catalogued.

Titus, angry, even when he is the one who betrayed me.

I called him a liar, him and his triad, and his pride is wounded.

Doman, only Doman is empty and blank, not a flicker of recognition on his face as he watches me impassively.

Detached and aloof, but not for much longer.

I stride to him, and before he can process what I’m doing, I’ve ripped the ring off his finger.

His nostrils flare, instantly, breathing in my hatred, tasting my scent unfiltered by that corrupt contraption that blocked us from each other.

“What are you doing?” His voice has that low growl to it that makes frissons rush down my back. He breathes in again, tasting me once more, nostrils flaring, and his eyes seem to pulse with energy.

“You told me the Bond would you make you stronger. If you want a chance against that monster, you know what you have to do.”

Doman reaches for the ring. I grip it, tight in my hand, putting it behind my back. If he wants to get it, he’ll have to wrest it from me. He’ll have to touch me, without that ring blunting his agonizing hunger.

“Not like this,” he snarls, clenching his hand into a fist. He closes his eyes tight, trying to stop himself from breathing in, but his nostrils flare once more, unable to resist tasting my scent.

I know what I’m doing to him. The Mating Rage is swelling up in him, and though my scent is marred by hatred, I know he can taste the way my body is always begging for him, this instinctual, primal need to be taken by the alpha.

He is a king, an emperor, a God among men, and no matter how my ire taints my desire, I’m done pretending I don’t crave him.

I laugh, cold. “Do you know how many times I imagined this, Doman? Even when I hated you. Especially when I hated you. The three of you tormented me. I’d have dreams of you…

I’d lie in bed, tossing and turning, sweating, imagining you breaking down my door.

I imagine the three of you pinning me down while I screamed for you to stop, forcing every inch of that fucking thing into me and ruining me.

” I reach down to grab his stiffening cock, and he wraps his hand around my wrist, his huge hand encircling me like a collar.

His tongue lolls out of his mouth, drool wets his chin, his eyes roll back.

“No, not like this, Adriana,” he snarls.

“Not…” He can’t finish the sentence. He shudders, the Mating Rage boiling up, and his triad steps forward, Gallien and Titus grabbing his shoulders tight, three huge beasts in front of me. He’s restrained. Barely.

“How did you want me? On a bed of roses, staring longingly into my eyes?” I mock. I see the hurt my words cause him, and I dig the knife in. “If you aren’t man enough to do this, you aren’t man enough to face him.”

He terrifies me. I thought I knew him. Now I see he was not just content to be first in line to the throne.

He wants it all.

He wants the universe, and he’ll use anyone to get his way.

Doman is brutality. Violence. A killing machine meant to tame the universe. I put my hand in front of him, opening it, offering him the black ring, giving him one last chance to take it. His bright blue eyes fixate on it, then on me.

He nods, ever so slightly, and I throw the ring behind me, as hard as I can. I hear it clatter somewhere in the hallway, and I’ve sealed my fate.

I reach down, between my legs. I’m soaking wet for him, my body begging for his conquering might. I reach up and run my arousal against his nose, knowing it will send him over the edge.

He breathes in, and his eyes roll back, his robe tenting forward as his cock surges to its full length.

“Fuck you, Doman,” I whisper, and it’s the last thing I say before his lips press against mine in a hungry kiss, his huge hands groping my ass and lifting me like I am weightless.

There’s a clink as the other two rings hit the ground, and I shiver as I’m pulled against his huge bulk, my legs unable to wrap around him, and I know the three of them are going to breed me in a row, taking turns binding me to them for eternity.

My head spins as Doman carries me into the bedroom, setting me down hard on the bed, making me bounce against it.

His clawing hands rips the wedding dress off me, tearing it in strands like it’s made of tissue.

Then he throws off his robe, and there is an instant as he stands over me, towering in his full height, his cock this iron rod bobbing with each heartbeat, impossibly hard and dripping pre-cum.

He is a Viking god, golden hair framing his cruel, noble features, his eyes rolling back as his lips curl up.

Then he’s on me.

The alien prince grabs my wrists, forcing them above my head and against the bed, gripping so tight it hurts. I’m terrified, but my legs open instinctively, the primal need to surrender to him overwhelming me as I spread myself for him, giving myself to the beast.

I’m not panicked. There’s this inevitability to it. I’ve been terrified of the Bond for so long, but now that I’m faced with it, and it’s going to happen, no matter what I do, the fear is replaced by something else.

Anticipation.

Not just of whatever dark pleasures it promises.

Doman won’t be able to hide from me any longer. He won’t be able to lie, to manipulate me, to toy with my future. I’ll know him, every hateful crevice of his mind exposed.