Broken triads.
In the Aurelian Empire, losing one of your battle-brothers is an honorable discharge. Commanding a Reaver into battle requires three men with linked minds. Fighting in battles with Orb-Blades requires the telepathic Bond, or you’ll be cut down by those who have it.
It would have been better if two whole triads disappeared into the Rift. The lives of six have been lost, and twelve utterly changed forever. They will be removed from combat, shuffled into mansions on Colossus or, if the drive to fight is still in them, working in non-combat roles. Some train the young in Academy, others stay on stand-by in the reserve forces—waiting for Obsidian to strike on our home planet.
The headache is pounding in my temples, and it’s not from Titus’ fists. That physical pain was a blessing. It was less than I deserved. It’s not from the burden of command, of facing down men who I just condemned.
It is because I do not deserve my Mate. I could not keep her safe, and I lied to her.
She thinks I have no plan for Colossus. It’s a half truth. The rescue itself is malleable. I am above suspicion, with full access to the royal palace, a brother who will help me and spies on the inside. I know I can get Fay out.
But what I’m going to do with her…
That, I haven’t told Adriana. I can’t. I decided when I thought I lost her. I made a promise to myself, that if I somehow found her in that darkness, I would do whatever was needed.
Because as I make the long walk alone to the med-bay, to face the soldiers who lost the people closest to them, and after nearly losing my Mate before I even Bonded her to me…
I know this war must end.
And I know how to do it.
33
ADRIANA
As Titus holds me tight, pulling me up against his heavy bulk, his breathing gets heavier. His cock starts to stir, his heart pounding, and he runs his hands down my back, gently cupping my ass with his huge palms as he pulls me deeper into his embrace. After the darkness, I cherish the reality of him, the musk of his scent, the hard lines of his body. Every sense is attuned.
A sharp thread of worry grips me, and I put my hands on his chest, pressing on the ridges of his chiseled abs. He lets me go, looking down at me with primal need, his nostrils flaring, searching my scent for any hint of need. I give him the best smile I can manage and walk towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to walk.”
“You’re not walking alone.”
I shrug. “I saw what happened. How many warships? Thirty? With Reavers? Shadowing me in the halls of your ship might make you feel better, but it’s not going to change anything if Obsidian recovers fast enough to send his fleet to hunt us before we get into Aurelian Empire territory.”
I sound like a bitch. Sure. These two just saved my life, they dove back into the blackness to get me.
But it’s the truth, and I need some space.
And I need to test Titus. There’s a new crazed look in his eyes, animalistic, unable to process his own failings, unable to accept that his Fated Mate was nearly taken from him.
I need to know he’s not going to try and control every second of my life going forward.
Titus strides to follow me, when Gallien cocks his head, ever so slightly. The big man stops in his tracks, scowling, and turns to face his battle-brother as the doors open for me.
“Escort. Two triads,” commands Gallien, and from the hallway, six hard-faced Aurelians fall in line, four behind me, the leaders of each triad striding with long legs in front of me. They clutch their blades, ready for more of Obsidian’s men to appear within the very halls of the Imperator.
I can’t resist the urge to glance back. Through the wall of marble flesh and white robes, Titus is watching me. The hurt in his eyes—that I want to be away from him, in this moment, when his world was ripped in two, drives a knife into my stomach. He’s too unpredictable right now, and as his cock stirred up when I embraced him, I didn’t trust him.
He’s terrified of losing me, and if he Bonds me to him, he’ll be able to feel me, wherever I am, every second of the day. Maybe he didn’t think of ripping off the ring and breeding me right there and then, but sooner or later, the thought is going to come to his mind.
The two Aurelians in front of me don’t ask me where we are going as I walk through the halls. They never glance back, even as we come to a junction with three different hallways leading off. I realize they are in constant communication with the other members of their triads. The ones behind me relay which way Istart to turn, so the two leading seamlessly move as if they can predict my movements.
I make my way to the place I know Doman will be once he has finished up on the bridge.
We get to the huge set of doors, guarded by two triads who have a new darkness to them, a tension around their eyes. Even an Aurelian, brave enough to throw himself into combat without thought, is unsettled by the Rift. There’s nothing you can do against that force but pray. No strategy, no Orb-Blade, and no armor can protect you. You’re gambling every time, and it could drive you mad.