Page 124 of Crown Prince's Mate

“I guess he thought it was worth a shot.”

“It’s all so… easy for Aurelians.” Her brows furrow, and she has a far-off look. “They’re a species who wants something they can never get. Nearly all of them live and die never having seen their Fated Mate. So everything they do, everything they endure, and fight for, it makes sense to them, because in their minds, if they are blessed by the Gods and find her, they think instantly everything will be perfect. And since most of them never find her, they never have to face the fact that life’s always going to be messy.”

“How did you and Bruton get together?”

“I’m sure you saw it in the news.”

“The sanitized version. Through the Aurelian propaganda machine.”

“I went from prisoner to his wife. My machines, the Mark-10s. They were very good. But I didn’t take into account safeguards from human tampering. Someone on my team was blackmailed by Fanatics and turned the Cyborgs against Brutonin an assassination attempt. Shit. This is all super-confidential stuff.”

“I promise, none of it leaves this room.”

“Alright. Well, I took responsibility. It was a member of my team. Looking back, it was a really stupid idea, but it all worked out. I was thrown into a jail cell on his ship, and I thought I’d be thrown into prison for life on Colossus… or worse.”

“You seem pretty happy here.”

“I am. I really am,” she says, then bites her lip. “It’s not perfect, but nothing is. I’m most valuable here, on Colossus. We’re setting up factories to produce more of the Mark-10s, and to improve the next generation. I’ve got my research. But… he’s coming.” She swallows, hard, and shifts uncomfortably on her seat. She places her hand on the gentle swell of her belly. “Any second,hecould decide to launch his final assault. It just makes me work harder, knowing Obsidian will strike. We have numbers. He has an advantage in the Rift, and I’m going to crack it.”

I glance upwards, instinctively, though it makes no real sense. Obsidian could strike from any vector.

“I don’t want to pry, but can I ask you something personal?”

Sitting so close to Evelyn is like seeing a window into my own future. I don’t know how long she’s been pregnant—it can’t be more than four months—but her body has already changed.

Her dress, a mixture of elegance and comfort, long and white, flows gently over the curves of her body, her swollen breasts, heavy and hanging, her hips that I swear have widened since I last saw a photo of her. The Bond has changed her, molding and shaping her to survive a pregnancy with a massive Aurelian babe, filling her breasts with milk, laden for the growing alien boy.

The difference in her is striking. She looks healthier, her cheeks rosy, her complexion with more color. Even her eyes seem brighter.

“Shoot. I’m an open book.”

“The Bond. Are you still…you?”

She pushes her chair back.

“I get it. You saw pictures of me, before?”

I nod. “Yeah. Pentaris intelligence service had a file on you. You were seen as one of the architects of the Mark-10 programs.”

“No, not an architect. Just refining the work done before me.” She sighs. “The Bond worried me, too. How the body changes during an Aurelian pregnancy—and it’s not going to stop here. I’m sure people will talk, over the universe, just like they used to make jokes about Queen Jasmine, when she was with her sons. It doesn’t bother me. I never really cared what people thought about me. But you don’t have that luxury, as a politician and all.”

I shiver, already imagining the headlines, the comments.

My polls in Pentaris show high favorability ratings. The consensus is that I made a great sacrifice, to bring wealth and power to our planets.

But even now, there must be jokes in the bars, in private conversations, calling the Prime Minister of Pentaris a harem wench.

And if I let them Bond me to them, get me pregnant, I can only imagine the changes in my body. I’ve always had a willowy, tall build, common on Virelia, but my breasts will swell, my hips widening, becoming curvier as I become the essence of fertility for the alien species.

There’s no re-election coming up, but at any moment, a vote of no confidence could strip me of my title as Prime Minister of Pentaris. And when the citizens view me as a breeding sow, a fucktoy for the triad, they won’t see my accomplishments orthe drive that brought me to lead. They’ll see my body changed, molded to be Doman’s perfect Mate, to produce an endless line of sons for the alien conquerors.

And through the universe, I won’t be known firstly as the Prime Minister of Pentaris. I’ll be famed as the second princess of the Aurelian Empire.

“Does your back hurt?”

“Ha! No, not at all, but I can see why you’d ask. You’d think it would take some getting used to, but it didn’t. I used to wake up with aches and pains when I’d hunch over a desk until 4 am. Now… I could work three days straight and feel fresh and light. My body feels more… mine. I don’t know exactly how to explain it. But every movement is more natural. I can do things I couldn’t before.”

“And your mind? I’m just… look, I don’t know how to say this.”

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