Page 4 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

I find none.

“Every one of you will earn women with blood. Some of you felt the call of your Mate in that direction. Fight for her. Fight for the mates of your brothers.”

Their eyes are no longer empty. They try not to let themselves feel those shreds of hope, that the one woman who can bear their triad’s sons could be on the planet we are going to protect.

Only Krazak and his triad’s eyes are still hollow. His forehead is branded with the mark of Obsidian, the second brand, the bottom half filled in by blackness that matches the single honor on his chest. He is a true devotee. He filled the emptiness of his life with devotion to the Priests and their prophecies, that call for the universe to be drowned in blood.

I blink, and the meeting hall disappears.

Krazak falls to his knees. I never saw him weak. Now tears flow from his eyes. He raises his head to the sky and screams, unanswered by the heavens, as he holds the sun-bleached bones of his woman.

The sun beats down. The wind blows. I do not sweat, and my robes do not ripple. I do not feel the elements.

Neither does his Mate.

Every ounce of muscle and fat was stripped by Scorp. Krazak felt her when the Bondthrummed,felt her being, her essence. Everything that was her was pulled from those bones.

A hand clasps my shoulder, and I’m pulled back to the meeting hall by Orr’s firm grasp. I’m in front of near a thousand warriors, lined up in perfect order. Each will follow me into hell and back.

Hell is where we’re going.

“The planet is two shifts away. Obsidian can see the flows of time and space to guide us, but his vision weakens the farther we go. The first jump is near guaranteed. The second may take us into the void. You all knew the risks of this mission. You all volunteered. We go to a planet forsaken by the Aurelian Empire, to claim it for Obsidian and raise the black flag. We will save them. Youwillearn your Mate through blood.” I raise my fist. “You will save her life, and own it!”

The soldiers stiffen, but they do not roar out in approval. There is too much tension in the moment, as if each of us is being crushed inwards by an immense pressure. The high ceiling of the meeting hall is as claustrophobic as a Scorp nest. We’re all facing the perils of uncertain Orb-Shifting, and each of us knows we can be ripped to shreds by forces of chaos beyond our control.

We’re all putting our trust in Obsidian’s ability to tame the rift and guide us through the perils of the darkness between time and space.

My triad never took a harem on Colossus. After our mandatory century of service, we could have grown fat on an estate, drinking wine by the flagon brought to us by dozens of women in pleasure dresses, lolling about by our pool and enjoying the delicacies of Colossus.

I had no need for it. I was born for one woman. A woman who did not yet exist, yet I knew was coming.

The Priests and their followers believed in Obsidian’s rise. They plotted in the shadows, waiting to break off from the Aurelian Empire to follow their dark prophecies. I never believed in the War-God, but I believed in my Fated Mate, and no other woman drew me in. I ignored the need in my balls, knowing if I sated myself in an unbonded woman, I’d feel drained and empty. I never once smelled a woman who had the scent of a potential mate.

I believed that my Mate would be born, and that I would one day find her.

The course of all Aurelian life was changed in one single moment, when every Aurelian felt and saw their Fated Mate. Something that was only a fantasy became reality. The Priests did it. They made the Bond ripple through the universe, showing each Aurelian triad their future.

I felt my Mate as we travelled in our warship. I felt her, as all Aurelians felt their Mate in that single moment that felt like it spanned years. When the Priest’s violent ritual made the Bond thrum, changing the course of history as each Aurelian’s Mate went from a longing, desperate hope to a reality.

She’s only human, but she’s fierce, pure, resilient. She wore a brilliant white dress. She was walking with a plate of fruits up a staircase, carefully balancing her tray, a servant to someone who had no right to her.

Her eyes locked onto mine in confusion. We were billions of miles apart from each other, but we stood as if we could almost touch, her innocence and purity contrasted to my rough, grizzled experience. So small. So delicate. I could pick her up with a single hand.

That’s when the Mating Rage boiled up in me. It was more intense than anything I’d ever felt. It rushed through my veins, pure need urging me to grab her, the fruits falling and the plate clattering to the ground as Itookher. My cock surged up like an iron bar, and my battle-brothers stepped forward, feeling the same obscene need for our Mate.

There was no wind, but I could smell her scent. Under some floral soap washer.As she stared at me, the fear grew, but underneath it was the unmistakable tang of lust, her body responding instinctively to our dominance. She ached for us. She needs to submit, to be ruled by a worthy triad, protected, trained…

And bred.

Her body craves our son. I will risk anything to make the dream a reality.

She yearns for freedom. She will accept my triad’s rule. In this dangerous world, I cannot let something so precious be free. We will claim her. Then we will hold her tightly, unlike the foolish Aurelian Empire that let entire planets curse themselves to a free death.

I’ll build her a tower. I’ll put her in the finest silks and pleasure dresses. I’ll lock her up, and I’ll make her accept her new place in the world as our Mate.

Then the Bond-Thrum ended, and so did the vision. We snapped back to reality on the War-Ship, and General Gladinus barked out orders, making us line up just as I organized my men today, telling them that any deserter who chased his Mate would be cut down like a cur, blasted by batteries of missiles and sliced apart by Orb-Beams. He told us that we felt our Mate through some unholy forces, and later that was confirmed—the Priests of Obsidian used a pregnant, Bonded woman’s blood in a ritual that let us feel our Mate, so that we would join their ancient order to find her.

It worked.

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