Page 38 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

“It’s time,” I say, and Ra’al and Orr turn to the doors. The two triads of guards pull them open as they hear the booted steps approach. I motion with my hand, telling Rachel to follow the other two of my triad, and though she hesitates, she does.

Ra’al and Orr’s auras are complete confidence. I don’t share it. As Rachel follows, her sheer dress not covering the hypnotic movement of her ass rolling with each step, I breathe in, testing her scent.

She wants us, yes, in the deepest part of her core, but there is a tension in her, a near terror that could ruin everything.

We need the universe to see our Mate willing and eager, crawling to her destiny. If she refuses us, we look weak, not only to our troops. It will only reinforce the propaganda that we are brute tyrants, nothing more than slavers who want to oppress humanity.

We need to show humanity that we are the only force that can protect them from the coming onslaught.

We step towards the wooden doorways, when I get a pang.

This is what she needs.

But is she ready for it?

I tasted her raw lust when my battle-brother spanked her brutally. The way her body reacted to dominance, craving harsh punishment.

But can she handle it, or will this drive a wedge between us? For the first time in centuries, I forget all strategic implications and war. I look at her only as a woman, as the one person in the universe who can complete us, and hesitate.

“Stop.” I say the order in the Common tongue, before we reach the wooden doors and leave the royal living quarters. Rachel freezes. I walk in close, tasting her emotions.

13

Rachel

In the sanctity of the quarters, there’s an illusion of safety. I look at the huge, open wooden doors, and I know if I walk through them, there’s no turning back. I’m grateful that Kriz told me to stop, but part of me feels like we’re just delaying the inevitable.

I stand, stock-still, not turning as he approaches me from behind. I haven’t said a word since they told me what was going to happen to me. I couldn’t.

Kriz leans in, until his mouth is an inch from my ear, his other hand gently wrapping around my body and resting on my stomach. He does not grope my sensitive nipples, or grip me between my thighs, pulling me roughly towards my body. Instead, he’s gentle, restrained, his breath hot against my ear.

“This is what you need, Rachel. This is what you crave. To belong to us. Completely.”

His voice is hypnotic. I’m flooded by wetness…and something else. There’s this tingling inside me, an emptiness needing to be filled. The pleasure dress is driving me wild, and his hand on my stomach feels protective and possessive, keeping me in place with barely a touch.

“Give in…” He kisses my ear, nibbling the lobe, gentle and holding back. Kriz is unlike the two warriors ahead of me. There’s a restraint to him, but he makes me ache just as bad as the others. The knowledge that the three of them can smell how turned on they make me is shameful and sensual. I’ve never felt so exposed.

“This is what you need,” he whispers again, his tongue exploring my ear. I moan in response, unable to hold back, and his other hand slowly slides down from my abdomen, closer and closer to my needy slit.

“I need to hear you say it.” His voice hardens.

I gulp. The two other Aurelians turn, staring down at me inhumanly, their imperious gaze looking straight through me. Both of them know my answer already. It is only Kriz who has any doubts.

“Yes,” I answer. It’s the only word I can manage.

“Good girl,” he responds, and my legs buckle. His grip tightens, holding me up, his huge cock rearing to life against my back. I swallow hard, but keep my chin up. The two guardian triads are watching the entire show, and though I know they can’t hear what Kriz is saying, they can guess.

We walk through the wooden doors, and I feel like I’ve crossed a threshold. We go into the transport pod, and the anti-grav kicks in, so it feels like we’re not moving at all…

Until the doors open, and I’m hit by a wave of smokey wind, the faint acrid smell of burning tickling my nostrils. They must have air-filters active, because the sky is less murky than when I entered the Reaver, some of the smoke dissipated as the Aurelians get fires under control.

From the transport pod, there is a stone bridge which goes over the front courtyard of the palace. We’re dizzyingly high, and there are no railings, but I’m reassured that the stone bridge is wide enough the three Aurelians could walk side by side. The bridge leads to the parapets of the outer wall of the palace. Those walls ring the entire palace, except for a section directly in the front of the palace, where they are broken to allow a semi-circle raised platform of stone which extends past the walls, directly above the city square.

This is where the King and Queen used to address the populace.

A wave of panic hits me as I hear the murmur of the crowd, beyond my sight. If we walk out onto the raised platform, I’ll be on display for the entire city.

“Do not fear. The shields are bolstered during addresses,” states Ra’al, calmly, as he smells my fear.

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