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The three men flicker into the shadows whenever Reavers cut overhead, blocking the sun for an instant.

Doman’s blue eyes never leave me as I approach him, and the slightest smile appears on his lips.

His golden mane matches his crown. Gallien, his features sharp like a patrician, the gold crown against his short platinum hair, is the only one without a hint of a grin.

He just watches me as if this moment was inevitable, and I know he imagined it a thousand times before, that ever since he felt the Bond thrum and knew we were linked that every action he took was designed to lead us together.

Beside them stand the human officiant and the ancient Aurelian who is master of ceremonial duties.

The Aurelian has a face lined with wrinkles.

He last visited Pentaris over two hundred years ago when Queen Jasmine ascended to the throne, a visit where he gifted each planet lavishly.

Next to him, looking small as the only human dwarfed by the alien species, is Master Barker, the rather vain Human Federation minister of international affairs who makes yearly trips to Pentaris.

He sports a white goatee, and his clever brown eyes shift from person to person.

They fade into the background along with the hushed crowd, the only sound the faint hum of Reavers overhead and the drones which transmit the occasion by holo-vid to the universe. The only thing that feels real is my triad, and they stand still, like statues of Gods come alive.

Master Barker has a small purple pillow upon which four rings gleam.

It won’t be the moment that I put those rings on their fingers that links us together, but the moment when I finally rip the blue-black rings off and surrender completely, when they Bond me to them.

As I stare up at them, my legs moving as if they have a mind of their own, my heart starts to pound quicker, not in anticipation of the marriage, but at the thread of inevitability that is growing deep inside me.

They’ve waited for me. They’ve fought for me.

They’ve gone against their own Empire and risked everything for my conscience and theirs.

I step up the stairs, and then they are towering over me, the three men who threw my life into chaos, the three men who are the only solid ground in a shifting universe.

The moment I walk up the stairs, Master Barker steps forward, puffing up like a bird with the knowledge of trillions of eyes on him.

There should have been an officiant from Pentaris presiding, but I gave the position to him instead, knowing that his pride would be stoked and it could lead to future favors in the constant negotiations between my people and his.

Even in moments like this, there is always a play to be made, a favor to be given, an angle to find that helps the interests of the Pentaris alliance in the great game of interstellar power.

“A momentous occasion,” he starts. “It seems like just yesterday I was wedding the prince Bruton to his Mate. In the great legends and myths of the Aurelian Empire, none are more poignant than the stories of triads who wed a woman not bound to them by Fate, but of their own choice.”

I give him a look he knows only too well, one that I’ve withered him with on the diplomatic missions when I can sense a lengthy speech coming.

He clears his throat in response. “Yes, well, this moment marks a great union between two trusted allies of the Human Federation, Adriana Hart of Pentaris, the Prime Minister herself, and the royal Crown Prince Doman and his triad.”

I saw footage of the wedding of Bruton’s triad to Evelyn, where Master Barker barely let the Aurelian master of ceremonial affairs get a word in.

This time, the ancient Aurelian brought a scepter, which he bangs on the ground sternly, quieting the human.

The wrinkled Aurelian starts speaking in the lilting tongue of High Aurelian before Master Barker can further pontificate.

“Prime Minister Adriana Hart, of Pentaris,” he begins.

“While no Bond flows between you and this triad, they have chosen you as their Fated Mate. They have chosen to forsake all others for your honor. This is a great action. One that all watching should understand the gravity of.” He waits a moment, letting his words sink in, and looks past my triad to the crowd.

The expressions on the faces of the soldiers watching are hard and grim.

Each of them is wearing the blue-black rings that cut them off from their own Fated Mates.

To them, this ceremony is a sacrifice. Their crown prince is not greater than them.

Even the highest among them accepted a political marriage to strengthen their Empire against the War-God over their own Fated Mate.

For the Imperial triad and their Queen, in the seats of honor, all our wedding vows will be nothing more than lies.

For us, we’ll know the truth.

The Aurelian officiant opens his mouth to continue, but Master Barker, unable to stand another second out of the spotlight, steps forward and raises his arms. “And it is a great call for celebration!” He waits for applause, but the crowd of battle-hardened soldiers are mute.

“These four have chosen each other rather than letting fate decide. They’ve taken their lives into their own hands, and that is something to be cherished and admired.

Ahem! Crown Prince Doman, first of the Imperial line, heir to the great throne of an ancient Empire, and your loyal and steadfast triad, Prince Titus and Prince Gallien.

Do you take Adriana Hart to be your princess, your wife, to honor her and forsake all others?

” As he speaks, the Aurelian officiant states near the same words in the high tongue.

“Yes,” say my men all at once, three sets of eyes not leaving me for a moment.

“And do you, Adriana Hart of Virelia, Prime Minister of the Pentaris Alliance, take these three noble men as your wedded husbands, by all the laws of the Gods, the Aurelian Empire, and those who bear witness?”

“I do,” I say simply, and take the first ring from the purple cushion. There are three simple gold rings surrounding an elaborate affair of diamonds that gleam brighter than Titus’ chain.

I take Doman’s hand, running my fingers over his, avoiding the cold circle of the obscene black-blue ring that mars his ivory skin, and slide the simple wedding band onto his ring finger as I stare into his brilliant blue eyes.

He might have called this a charade, but as the smile broadens on his lips, I can see how much it means to him.

“I love you,” he whispers, so softly it’s meant only for me.

My heart pounds. I haven’t said it yet. I didn’t want to.

It felt wrong, to love a man I didn’t allow to take me completely.

I know, somehow, that saying the words will reveal the truth, that once they spill out of my mouth, that blue-black ring is destined to be removed, that he’s going to claim me fully, finally marking me as his own for eternity.

“I… I love you too,” I reply, and the words feel so natural when I stop resisting.

His eyes widen, and though our minds are not yet linked, he knows me enough to know what it means.

And yet, to my surprise, there’s a dark flash in his eyes, this strange distance that troubles me in the moment that should be perfect.

He must be thinking of Fay, of the true events occurring under the surface while our union blinds the eyes of all who witness.

I take the next ring, an identical copy, and look up at Titus’ hot grey eyes. Even in his formal robes, he wears the gaudy chain, dangling down from his thick neck and resting against his chest.

“I will never say no to more adornment,” he says, smoothly, but as he smiles it doesn’t reach his eyes. I slide the ring on his finger, sensing something wrong, yet not knowing what.

I’ve finally decided to give myself to them, and I was expecting them to feel it, to cherish it, for something between us to finally change.

Instead, as I put the final ring on Gallien’s fingers, I’m met with his aloofness, his chiseled features and hard eyes that soften only briefly as he looks down at me with unmistakable pride.

Doman picks up the heavy diamond ring, and I extend my hand, but I can’t stop it shaking as he slides the ring onto me.

Then, he leans down, and kisses me, and the crowd erupts in cheers and applause, and I let my misgivings erase, knowing it was nothing but last-second anxiety as his tongue presses past my lips.

He brings his hands up to my cheeks, cupping my face gently as if I might break at any second, and I feel the cold bite of that Orb-ring burning against my skin.

I want to rip it off. I want to feel Doman’s mind flow into mine, the auras of him and his battle-brothers growing and blooming inside my thoughts like Virelia in spring.

His hands slide down my back, and I gasp as I’m lifted into his arms, throwing my hands around his neck as he kisses me, stepping with me down the pedestal.

I see movement as a pure white Reaver touches down, the doors sliding open, Titus and Gallien hopping inside as Doman turns to face the crowds, letting them get one last look at me in his arms before the doors shut close.

He sets me down, and everything changes. They move like operators, stalking to the cockpit. I follow, nearly tripping in my heels as I try to keep up with their long-legged gait.

“Tint,” states Titus cooly, and the huge windows that circle the cockpit turn black.

“What’s the status? Is she out of the palace?”

A muted gasp, the sound of a woman, comes from deeper in the ship. I whip around, turning in shock as the three men take their seats in the cockpit at the gunneries and controls.

“Fay is in the med-bay,” states Doman, intently. “Her water broke during the escape. We had to change the plan at the last second.”