Page 95

I felt his dominance. Just once. Fucking him and his triad is nothing compared to that instant that felt like a lifetime, when the Bond thrummed and I was shaken by the power of his being rushing through me. The pure ownership, as if I was already his, that he feels right now.

There could be no greater pain to an Aurelian than to find his Mate and be rejected. And now, with Obsidian prowling ever closer, the tension is boiling up.

I run my hand over the wooden table, trying to find the right words. All my diplomatic experience seems useless in the fate of a scorned beast.

“I’m not the same person I was before I met you. I don’t believe I can govern effectively if I’m Bonded. I’ve got a hundred billion souls to take care of. If I wanted to wait until after my term, could you accept that?”

Titus and Gallien, sitting silently at his side, stiffen, unable to control their emotions.

It’s as if I slapped them one by one. They know a term is a full decade, and though that is nothing to the alien species, I know how painful each second un-Bonded is.

If those rings were not dulling their senses, they would have snapped already, mad with the Mating Rage and reduced to nothing more than base beasts.

Doman’s lips curl back in a sneer. It twists his handsome face. “You would find it difficult to govern. But you would find it natural to rule.”

The chair grates against the stone floor as I push back away from him, as if his words are fire.

“That’s not what I want. Careful what you say, Doman.”

He cocks his head sideways, tracking me like a bird of prey.

“How many of your people have been taken by Toads when they dare to leave your borders? How many humans in Wild Space, just beyond your reach, have died to Scorp because they didn’t have the luck of birth to be one of your citizens?

Pentaris is a force for good. Expand it.

When we’ve killed Obsidian, my parents will still rule on Colossus.

But we can forge new territories. New kingdoms, that will be ours, and ours alone.

Governed by the principles of Pentaris, and the strength of my sword. ”

“That vision leaves no room for the principles of Pentaris.”

“And what use are principles, in a Toad slave auction? On a space station where every man, woman and child is ripped to shreds by Scorp? I served my hundred years. I’ve seen these things.

You’re a natural leader, Adriana. You say you’re responsible for a hundred billion souls.

Why, because they voted for you? You’re wrong.

You’re responsible for everyone you can save. ”

His words have a hypnotic intensity to them, like he’s speaking to my soul.

I sit, mute, as they flow over me. “Did the scared slave captured just outside your border not choose you? She prayed to the Gods, but she was praying to us, praying for anyone strong enough to save her. Pentaris is a force of order in the chaos. Expand it. The fates Bonded us for a reason.”

“You’re scaring me.” My words are barely more than a whisper.

He’s speaking of conquest and war, of mobilizing the ships of Frosthold not just for defense, but to pierce into Wild Space and Toad territory.

Turning the visions of Etherion from a defensive necessity and using them to outflank our enemies.

The factories of Magnar, producing missiles day and night in the warm glow of magma flows.

He breathes in deeply, his blue eyes fixed on me.

His battle-brothers stare with the same intensity, as if seeing me for the first time.

“I’m not scaring you. You’re scaring yourself.

You’re scared of what you could be. What you’re capable of.

” He slowly reaches down, resting his fingers down against the ring.

“Careful, Doman.”

“I need to remind myself what I’m fighting for.”

His battle-brothers stand silently behind him, like rocky craigs weathered by storms. Titus’ glimmering chain seems to dance as it reflects the light, and the two of them have the same stony, unreadable expression.

“Why torture yourself?”

Doman’s smile doesn’t touch his hungry eyes.

“Being tortured by you is exquisite.” He reaches down and slowly twists the ring off.

He licks his lips, teasing himself, delaying the pleasure of tasting his Mate.

My heart quickens, and I imagine Titus and Gallien unable to hold him back as he transforms into the brute beast that lurks inside him, or them throwing off their rings as well, forgetting everything in their drive to claim me and finally link me to them.

The ring makes no sound as he drops it against the wood of the table.

Doman breathes in, slowly, luxuriously, his nostrils flaring.

His smile grows as he tastes me, then his lips draw back, his teeth glistening like fangs.

He closes his eyes, luxuriating in me, then his heavy lids flash open, revealing brilliant blue eyes ravenous for me.

He lurches to his feet, and Gallien and Titus grunt as they fight to hold him down as he loses himself to the Mating Rage.

His plate flies, glasses tumble, spilling coffee, and Titus growls, forcing the ring back on his leader’s finger.

Doman pants. His heart must be pounding, just like mine, and he brushes a lock of golden hair out of his eyes.

There’s a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“You’ll see, tomorrow.” His lips seem unaccustomed to words, contorted and raw.

“You will feel what it is to do something good because you will it, and not by anyone’s permission. One taste, and you’ll understand.”

I shiver, stiffening in my chair. His words cut home.

I’m acting on my own, using the Pentaris spy network without official permission, contacting them through back channels.

I can’t pretend I’m representing my people.

They’d call a vote to have me stripped of my position if they knew we plotted to free a hostage.

Allies don’t work against each other, and if we’re caught, it would be an act of war. I try to convince myself I’m working on my own, without official designation. A rogue actor, and that the blame would fall on me alone.

It’s flaky. I know my mind well enough to understand my own coping mechanism with guilt. Because deep down, I know Doman is right.

The choice to break Fay out goes against every tenet of democracy I believe in. But leaving her captive goes against my basic humanity.

Obsidian and his Fanatics are wolves. They conquer, but they keep the planets they take control of safe.

The Aurelian Empire is cold, machine-like efficiency, ruled by a code of honor, a code of honor that allows for them to keep a pregnant woman captive.

There’s no revolt on Colossus, no one rising up to replace Queen Jasmine and her Emperor triad.

I’m risking everything to free this woman, because if I don’t rescue her, then I don’t know if we deserve to win the war.

Doman stands, brushing his battle robes back into place.

My eyes widen at the thick, hard bar of his cock, pressed out and tenting the white material.

There’s a stain from his pre-cum, and his thick cock is throbbing with each beat of his heart.

Just one taste of me, just one breath of my raw scent, and he’s like a stallion.

“There is a cruelty to democracy, my love.” His words are cold and hard, as if to prove that he is in control, despite the raging torrents of his lust. “Citizens get to vote without getting their hands dirty. You know the same people who voted to elect you would let Fay rot under the palace, because they’re scared of war.

Our way is better. You bleed. You get blood on your hands, before you get a say in who runs the Empire. ”

With that, he turns away, contemptuous. Titus follows him, but Gallien waits a moment, his grey eyes scanning me. He sits down next to me, placing his hand on my thigh. I’m surprised that his touch is welcome. I thought any of the triad touching me would make me pull back.

“He’s only half right. The people voted for you to represent them. You have their will. They work through you.”

I try to smile, but I can’t. I just sit, numbly staring at the chaos in front of me, the broken glass, the coffee pooling against a stained napkin.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay. That Cal and Evelyn’s triad can get her free, that we won’t be caught, that she’ll be safe.”

He squeezes my thigh gently. “It’s going to be okay.

Fay will be freed and brought to a safe location, far from any of this.

It’ll be kept under wraps. The Empire won’t even acknowledge that she’s gone.

” His eyes tighten, and his face goes from comforting to terrifying in a moment.

“And then Obsidian will come here to die. His fleets will be ground to dust, and he with them. There will be peace.”

Gallien stands slowly, walking behind me, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “It was always my dream to wed my Mate. You’re all that I wanted, all I will ever want. It may not feel perfect, not yet, but it will be. Trust us, Adriana.”

I run my hand over the corded muscles of his arm, breathing in and smelling the alien musk of the third of the triad, the one I feel closest to, the one that scares me the least. There’s a pang of ache in me.

I want to give in so badly, to let him flow into my mind, to never be alone again.

I want to feel all three of them, and know that they’re okay, know that behind all the violence and bloodshed in their souls that there is that band of honor that cannot be broken.

If I hadn’t felt that, in the moment when the Bond thrummed, I never would have let any of this happen. That’s what reassures me.

“Okay. You’ve got battle plans to draw up, I’m sure. And I’ve got a million messages and meetings to deal with before tomorrow.”

He kisses the top of my head softly, then slips away, silent as a cat, and leaves me alone in the dining room, overwhelmed by my thoughts.

I look down at my smart-watch. All I want to do is call my sister, spill my guts to her, speak of light things and heavy, see her face glow with excitement of the coming wedding.

“Call a meeting with the planetary representatives in fifteen minutes,” I state instead, curtly relaying the message to one of my administrators.

Now is when I can least afford to be weak.

Tonight I am Prime Minister...

Tomorrow I will be something more.