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“You made your political career representing the hardliners. You made your political career on strengthened autonomy. These people will follow you, if you accept my offer.”

“I’m sorry that this could not work out, Prince Doman.”

He gave up his negotiating tool. He should have used it. He should have avoided my questions regarding his Planet-Killers, but now, he gave his word of honor they would not be used. Even the tiniest chance they could end my planets would have forced my hand.

“I had expected you to decline.” The gleam in his eyes worries me.

It is not the gleam of a man who has just been defeated.

“Very well. You are correct. A trade deal alone could not protect us. These sorts of legal agreements do not have the weight that your hardliners respect. According to your sector’s customs, there is only one way to make this binding and authentic in their eyes. ”

I try to keep my face blank, but my confusion must be visible—and worst of all, no matter how statuesque I try to appear, I know he can smell it in my scent, my emotions on display for him.

I keep my mouth shut, and he seems to be savoring the moment. There’s a flash of triumph in his eyes I can’t understand.

“We will be wedded. The Prime Minster of Pentaris and the crown prince of the Aurelian Empire.”

I step back, my heart pounding. “You’re insane.”

“Am I? You’ve been the puppet master of a dozen of these marriages since you became one of the twelve Administrators five years ago. It would be a link between our people so strong we would not fear any terrorist activity.”

We’re alone, and I let myself be me for a moment. “Lies. You’re doing this because you think I am your Fated Mate. This is all trickery, to get me in your hands. I know your species, and your obsessions.”

“You are our Fated Mate, Adriana. This is a certainty. And once this war is finished, I will rip this ring from my finger, and I will chase you down, and I will make you see that you belong to us.” His nostrils flare, and his eyes flash in anger.

“But this, this, Adriana, is war. I did not risk my Planet-Killers for myself. My men trust me. They fight for me. They die for me. And any delay —even a day—in moving our reinforcements costs the lives of my troops. Your sector is essential to end this war. And I will end this war. This is no ploy to bind you to me. A Fated Mate cannot be won by trickery, only earned.”

His battle-brothers stand from their thrones, stepping forward, until I am confronted by three huge alien creatures.

Doman raises his hand. “This ring blocks the Bond completely. You have no scent of a Mate. Every time I smell you it enrages me, knowing that I should taste it, the one thing we all crave. My troops wear these rings, and so do I, because we do not fight for ourselves, like the savage Fanatics, but for stability and our empire.”

“Three years,” says Gallien. “A three-year wedding contract. The war will be done sooner. Three years of marriage, and then we will divorce.”

“If that is what you want,” growls Titus. His voice has an animalistic snarl to it.

I step back, shaking my head. “I refuse.”

“Your pride clouds you. This is the best for your people.”

My eyes flash in anger. “Three years. The same as a harem wench gets before her payout.”

“You have a great prejudice towards the women who choose to join the harems. Not all want to lead, Adriana. Some crave submission and protection. If that is the nature of a woman, what right do you have to judge her?”

“Service? Is that what you call it? Naked women leashed and paraded around the streets?”

“It is their choice.”

“Choice? They come because they have no prospects. How many harem women are from shithole space stations in rogue space, barely earning enough to eat?”

“Then why, Adriana, do they stay once their term is over?”

“Because you break down their minds.” I spit out the words, letting my hate and anger spill out. “You strip them of everything that is them.”

“Or perhaps we reveal it. Is that what you’re scared of, Adriana?

That deep down, you know you are linked to us?

” His blue eyes burn through me. His voice has a hard, deep edge of dominance to it.

His right arm tenses, and I know he’s fighting the urge to reach out, to touch me, to run those huge fingers over my body.

I control myself. I’ve been in high stakes situations before. I’ve brokered agreements between planets, quelled rage between competing interests, forced together compromise where none was seen to be found.

“I refuse. I will now leave your ship and return to Pentaris. Unless you plan to keep me as a political prisoner, which will only harden our resolve against you. Your ships will never enter our territories, or it will be a declaration of war, and we will stop you. Your Reavers don’t scare us.

Your warship will be destroyed by our orbital stations.

Your warriors will be turned to dust.” I meet his hard, intense gaze, my chin up, challenging him.

He weighs my words. Gallien brings his smart-watch to his mouth, whispering in it in High Aurelian. I can’t make out the words, but I steel myself, prepared for Aurelian soldiers to rush out and grab me, bringing me to the cells.

It will be my victory. I brought the two Administrators most sympathetic to Aurelian concerns with me. Taken prisoner, they will lose their votes.

Three new Administrators will be elected in a snap election to replace us, and the only ones that will win the votes of the populace will be hardliners who would never bow to Aurelian rule.

I have sacrificed myself, and my system will be protected from their incursions.

It is a victory, and I will think on it every day I am trapped in their cells.

I wait for the soldiers to grab me, to pull me out of the throne room, but no one comes.

The doors remain closed behind me, the throne room silent and cold, white marble stretching all around me, the three hateful Aurelian princes watching me like wolves.

“Well. Isn’t this the wonderful thing about democracy?

I’ve sent the proposal to your twelve Administrators and the voting blocks of your planets.

I’ve increased my offer. It is very, very generous.

How does your system work? Ah yes. Democracy.

The majority will decide your fate. And then you will face a vote of confidence, and you will have the choice—resign, or continue as my wife. ”

My heart pounds.

“I’ll resign,” I say, instantly.

“Will you? You care deeply for Pentaris, Adriana. That is one of the many things I admire about you. And what did you say earlier? Oh yes. You did not want to become Prime Minister. You took it because no one else would rise up to the task.”

My words are thrown back at me, and I realize too late the crucial piece of information I let slip. He realized I expected this meeting to end in captivity—and he understood the sacrifices I was willing to make for my people.

I make my face a blank slate. I turn and walk towards the huge doors.

“Open!” commands Prince Doman, and the doors are thrown open to me. My mind is reeling, but I force myself to be sharp.

I’m going to have to go against the planetary blocks and the Administrators, and I am going to have to convince them to vote against the proposal.

Or else I’m going to spend the next three years as the wife of the crown prince and his royal triad.

No—not just his wife.

His princess.

I stop, frozen on the other side of the huge doors, my heart pounding. I’d watched the wedding ceremony of Prince Bruton, Doman’s younger brother, and his Fated Mate.

I turned the broadcast off, biting my lip at the surge of emotions—disgust, hatred, and fear, before the second part of the ceremony began…

Then I turned it back on, because I could not hide from what I hated. I needed to see.

She was bred in the huge coliseum on Colossus. She was fucked like a pleasure toy in front of a huge crowd of Aurelian warriors, by the three members of her triad, turned into nothing but a broodmare in front of the crowd. A public conquest.

A bright, intelligent scientist, crucial to the Cyborg program, which is the key to the Aurelian victory, reduced to nothing but a pool of submission, treated like a whore in front of the alien species.

Fucked by all three of Prince Bruton’s royal triad.

I watched them seed her, roaring out in victory.

I watched their thick, pearly cum stream from her stretched slit, marking her as theirs.

Forever.

I grit my teeth together.

That will never be my fate. And I will not become the bride of these arrogant warriors, who think of us as lesser. Pentaris has never allowed Aurelians into our borders, and I will not allow these cunning three to penetrate our sovereignty.