Page 129 of Crown Prince's Mate

Then the nuclear bomb explodes. The camera bounces, jolting from the shockwave. Obsidian’s wolves, who were leading the charge, are hit by the blast, then the entire screen is obliterated.

“Is he dead?” I gasp out, feeling as though I witnessed history.

“I would not assume so,” states Cal.

Bruton grimaces. “No. Not dead. I just got the report from Fay. But his aura is weak. He was wounded. Grievously.”

I shiver. Of course. The reason she’s held captive. Her Bond to the War-God lets the Aurelian Empire track his movements.

That poor woman. Trapped underground, unable to feel her Mate unless Interrogators pull off the disruptor ring to force her to feel her man. She must be in terror each time, hoping beyond hope she will feel him, in agony that one day she may take off the ring and have only emptiness in her mind.

“More reports coming in,” states Bruton, checking his smart-watch. “Three of his warships downed, nearly a dozen Reavers, and hundreds of his men turned to dust. He might have gotten out, but this will deter his surprise attacks. Now he knows he could be walking into a trap every time he shifts in.”

“He will be more desperate by the day,” says Cal, in that soft voice of his, and he is the only one who doesn’t seem to be celebrating.

Doman replays the moment once more, of the nuclear explosion’s shockwave expanding, and he zooms in as close as he can on Obsidian himself.

His eyes are black holes, his skin marble but his veins like oil flowing through him. His teeth are sharp and fanged, and he has a fury in his eyes that terrifies me, and it feels like he’s looking straight at me.

I try to imagine what thoughts roil in his mind, but I can’t.

He is truly alien, a force not of nature but of Fate itself.

38

OBSIDIAN

Istare at my reflection in the mirror of the med-bay. My wolves barely made it out. I recalled them to my blood at the first light of the blast, and they are dormant now, recovering, their auras dim.

How could she love me now?

My hair is scorched. Half my face is a melted mess, and the white bone of my cheek gleams. The DNA damage was too severe for the med-bay to restore the features that my Mate knows and once loved.

My eyes were unscathed. As if they are made of something stronger than mere flesh and bone. The black orbs stare from ruined skin.

I’m disintegrating. Every other one of my soldiers in the charge was turned to ash. Only I made it out. My men think it is because I am a God, that nothing can destroy me.

I am alive only because of Fay. The Bond she blessed me with. She gave me the strength to continue. Even now, half my body seared, the agony cannot compare to the pure torture of being away from her, each beat of my heart sending waves of pain.

“How long do I have?”

“I don’t know, Obsidian. Any mere mortal would be dead. Your DNA is going to degrade,” states my top doctor. He eschewed the second brand on his forehead marking him as a true believer. He followed my cause rationally, seeing the degradation of the Aurelian Empire and knowing that for our species to thrive, the only choice was war.

I sit up, grunting in pain.

“You will have a brief period of time when you recover. You will feel healthy once more. Then you will fall apart.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Your body is stronger than any I have seen. My best guess is one week. We need to put you in the cryo-bays and freeze you until we find a solution.”

“There is only one solution. Her. I need to Mate with her once more and strengthen the Bond.”

Would she?

Could she, anymore? Or have I become such a monster that she will see me as a stranger?

I felt her in my mind, an hour ago, briefly. It filled me with rage. Queen Jasmine, forcing her to report the extent of my injuries. I tried to feel her, but my mind was so weak I could barely touch her aura, barely think.

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