Page 89 of Sawoots Story

The Loyalists look at her with a reverence that scares me.

A third of the Aurelians chafes under female rule, preferring the Old Ways.

The rest?

They have an almost god-like worship of her.

Queen Jasmine was the first to usher in the new age of Bonding. The Loyalists know she’s the reason their dying species has hope.

Devotion this strong could be wielded to conquer the universe. Devotion like this can be used for good or evil, and I don’t know which Queen Jasmine is.

Maybe good and evil don’t matter anymore. Maybe it never did. Maybe it’s just about power, and somehow Queen Jasmine has been able to hold the reins of power over a fractured civilization for hundreds of years.

“The Old Ways are a lie,” Queen Jasmine calls down. “Any child sired of a Forced Bond is cursed and twisted. The Priests and their traditions would doom our race. We.Will. Not. Let them.”

The crowd screams out. Their anger is down to their bones, a force waiting to be led into war. The species hasn’t had an all-out battle since the Galactic War against the Toads…

And that nearly lead to the death of all sentient life in the universe.

All that will survive the next war will be the violent Scorp, chittering and ruling over a universe of bones.

Bellow, standing in the sands, the triad awaits judgment. There is no reverence in their eye. They do not bow their heads, standing cold and ready for life or death.

Emperor Raegan steps forward. All eyes turn towards the massive Aurelian. I wonder who would be taller—Tar’ank or him. Both are giants. “There has been a great betrayal,” he announces. “The Priesthood were plotting rebellion, and they were funded by our oldest enemies—the Toads.” Raegan snorts, contemptuous of the warty green species the Aurelians look down upon. “They thought they could fund a rebellion! The Toad Finger himself, Lord Oblog, has told us everything! Credits were being smuggled to the Priests to fund a coup!”

“I fucking knew it,” growls Tar’ank. His aura pulses with hate. “Toad scum has been funding the Separatists this whole time. They want us weak. They want us divided.”

I share his hate. It’s not just because the Toads nearly killed me. It’s because their greed knows no end, and they’ll enslave and steal from the weakest in the universe if it makes them stronger.

“And yet, we’re Independent,” states Markrin dryly. Larixa chuckles at the irony. My triad didn’t spend their lives helping the Empire, but went their own way, building their own fate. Tar’ank’s one to talk about dividing the Empire. His aura clouds in annoyance, but he has no retort.

The cold, stately Aurelian stands above the crowd. “The Priests and the Separatists are fools. They are tools of the Toads, used to make us weaker. But we will not falter! Blood will be spilled to avenge this betrayal!”

“What a waste,” I say, sad as I look down at the triad below.

They feel the same Bond towards the woman in the white dress as I feel towards my triad.

I won’t watch the handsome, noble Aurelians be executed. They may have done evil. They may have been working with the Toads. It’s still sad.

The woman in the white dress stares down at them, and I see the ghost of terror in her eyes. The three men down there are not followers of the Old Ways. The love this woman has for them is pure. They won her heart honorably. Whatever wrongs they did, they are not evil like the Separatists.

The holo-vid zooms in on the gleaming sapphire eyes of the leader of the triad as he stares up at his Fated Mate. His eyes are so focused, I know he’s etching her in his mind, so she will be the last thing he sees before it’s all over. It breaks my heart. His cold, calm demeanor breaks for a second as he looks up at her, naked pain in his eyes as he stares at the woman he loves.

I shudder, wishing I could do something to help them. Justice is without a heart.

Queen Jasmine points down at the three Aurelians, and my breath catches. “The three who stand before you uncovered the plot! They brought down the very Toad responsible for it to justice, and they alone drew the blinding light of justice to the Priesthood!”

The crowd bays out, cheering for the triad below, and some of the tension leaves my body. I wriggle in closer to my men, and Tar’ank strokes my cheek softly. I love both sides of him, the gentle protectiveness and the brutal beast he becomes when the Mating Rage takes him.

I force thoughts of the Mating Rage out of my mind before they can sense it in my aura. We need clear minds now, not to succumb to our endless needs. But seeing Queen Jasmine with her sons makes me so envious, craving my own tall, proud sons who I know will work for the good of all.

“They will have the honor of taking the Toad’s head!” The emperor’s voice booms out, and a second set of portcullises from the other side of the arena creak open.

A Toad is forced out, kicked from behind. He stumbles into the sand, and I know the grains must be hell against his moist, sensitive skin. He looks so small compared to the Aurelian triad, and he pulls himself up, his huge gut distending outwards. It’s hard to feel pity for him. If he’s a powerful Toad, he’s been responsible for enslaving tens of thousands of human women. I saw the Toads who were willing to wipe out peaceful mining camps on Tarrion and execute us for what we had. They’re all the same. The sun is harsh on his skin.

“Lord Oblog,” says Markrin, shocked. His hands freeze on my feet. I’m witnessing history. Once, the Toad was one of the ten most powerful men in the Kingdom, the ten fingers who report directly to the Toad King.

Now he’s all alone. His green robes and crown look ridiculous on him in the emptiness of the arena. No one is protecting him now. The audience bays for his blood.