Page 29 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

“You are now their Queen.”

Orr looks at me, and his slate-grey eyes flash with ownership. “OurQueen.”

9

Rachel

His words are so flat and emotionless, it’s surreal. He can’t be serious. I’m not of royal birth. I’m not even a noble. I’m just a servant.

“I’d rather live…somewhere less high.”

“You do not like heights?” Kriz asks. He doesn’t look at me, instead watching the four Reavers that fly around the holo-dome, keeping track of their movements.

“Not particularly.”

“There are other rooms in the spire. They held advisors and servants. Now they are empty. Choose any you wish—the entire Royal Spire has been checked, from top to bottom, by trusted triads. You can walk freely, without fear.”

“And the rest of the palace?” Kat ask the question I was too scared to.

“It is not fully secured. We have four Reavers orbiting the spire, and two triads at the front entrance to the spire below, who will stop anyone from entering the inner sanctum. You are safe.”

They won’t let anyone in…and I’m guessing they don’t want me leaving, either.

Ra’al is looking at me, but he’s no longer seeing me. His eyes are staring straight through me. Kriz steps forward. “Get acquainted with your surroundings. Rest. Report downstairs within a few hours when you are restored. Do you have all you need?”

“Yes,” I say, my brows furrowing as I watch general Ra’al’s strange expression. It’s like when he was in the Reaver and the nose dropped for a moment.

“Good,” barks out Orr brusquely. “We must address the troops. Call for the servants for whatever you need. The AI has been linked to you. Whatever you wish, it will be done.”

Orr puts his hand on Ra’al’s shoulder. He blinks, and the three of them turn in a quick movement, their black robes swirling as they stride in unison to the elevator pod. They leave, and it’s just Kat and I, in a holo-dome that could fit hundreds. Birds chirp, and it’s strange hearing them in the strange silence of being above the clouds. I wish I had their wings, so that I could fly away.

“I never thought I’d be here,” I say, my voice quiet. It seems weird to speak loudly up here, all alone.

“You never thought you’d be living in the Royal Palace?” Kat snorts sarcastically. “I never thought I’d be shooting Scorp with a hunting rifle. Never thought I’d be dumb enough to get caught on a planet during an invasion, and I never thought I’d go anywhere with Aurelian Fanatics. But here I am. And here you are. Should we check out the digs?”

Kat’s so matter-of-fact she brings me back to reality. I nod, and we walk together on the stone path that leads towards the white home. Here, there is no blue or yellow of the Royal Colors. This is meant for their eyes only. We walk across a beautifully constructed stone bridge over the small stream, which funnels into the lake where fish dance. There’s a small wooden dock in the lake, and I can picture the king himself fishing, forgetting all his duties as he enjoys his private paradise.

“This place creeps me out,” I say, looking at the long, angular white home that is so different from the majesty of the palace itself. This is no symbol of wealth and power. It is true power, hidden away from the populace of the city. How many of the billions on this planet knew about this secret spire, above the clouds, shrouded by man-made weather patterns? How much of the wealth of the planet was funneled here?

“I need to wash the dirt off my face. Doesn’t matter how creepy this place is, it’s got to have a sink. Gods, but it’s good to be away from the stink of those three. Make them have a bath, alright?”

That makes me blink. The smell of their sweat didn’t repulse me like it does Kat. It just smelled…right.

“As if I could make them do anything.”

She turns, with a glimmer in her eyes. “You said it yourself. You’re their Mate, right? You’re about the only person in the universe who has any power over them. Use it.”

The front doors of the home open silently as we approach. It’s minimalistic, no ornate decorations. There are a few marble figurines of horses inside, but otherwise, it’s just hallways and rooms. Kat makes a beeline to an open doorway to a bathroom where we can both see a sink with a tall faucet, and she washes her face.

I pause in the entrance hall. Kat splashes her face, dries it with a white towel, and comes out, refreshed. “You want to find a bed and rest? I bet they’ve got a bunch of cushy beds.”

“I’d just toss and turn.”

Kat grins wryly. “No nightmare worse than what we just went through, at least.”

I step past her into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My shoulder-length blonde hair is a tangled mess, my eyes are bloodshot, and I’ve got a bruise on my cheek. When did I get that? I have a vague memory of the rifle butt slamming into my cheek from recoil, but the moments that were so crisp and clear have blended into one long nightmare. I close the bathroom door and wash my face off, getting back to being a human and not an animal fighting for its life. I take a deep sip from the water. It’s cold and fresh, as if it’s channeled from a mountain spring.

Only the best for the royal family.

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