Page 141 of Crown Prince's Mate

Doman pants. His heart must be pounding, just like mine, and he brushes a lock of golden hair out of his eyes. There’s a bead of sweat on his forehead. “You’ll see, tomorrow.” His lips seem unaccustomed to words, contorted and raw. “You will feel what it is to do something good because youwillit, and not by anyone’s permission. One taste, and you’ll understand.”

I shiver, stiffening in my chair. His words cut home. I’m acting on my own, using the Pentaris spy network without official permission, contacting them through back channels. I can’t pretend I’m representing my people. They’d call a vote to have me stripped of my position if they knew we plotted to free a hostage.

Allies don’t work against each other, and if we’re caught, it would be an act of war. I try to convince myself I’m working on my own, without official designation. A rogue actor, and that the blame would fall on me alone.

It’s flaky. I know my mind well enough to understand my own coping mechanism with guilt. Because deep down, I know Doman is right.

The choice to break Fay out goes against every tenet of democracy I believe in. But leaving her captive goes against my basic humanity.

Obsidian and his Fanatics are wolves. They conquer, but they keep the planets they take control of safe. The Aurelian Empireis cold, machine-like efficiency, ruled by a code of honor, a code of honor that allows for them to keep a pregnant woman captive. There’s no revolt on Colossus, no one rising up to replace Queen Jasmine and her Emperor triad.

I’m risking everything to free this woman, because if I don’t rescue her, then I don’t know if we deserve to win the war.

Doman stands, brushing his battle robes back into place. My eyes widen at the thick, hard bar of his cock, pressed out and tenting the white material. There’s a stain from his pre-cum, and his thick cock is throbbing with each beat of his heart. Just one taste of me, just one breath of my raw scent, and he’s like a stallion.

“There is a cruelty to democracy, my love.” His words are cold and hard, as if to prove that he is in control, despite the raging torrents of his lust. “Citizens get to vote without getting their hands dirty. You know the same people who voted to elect you would let Fay rot under the palace, because they’re scared of war. Our way is better. You bleed. You get blood on your hands, before you get a say in who runs the Empire.”

With that, he turns away, contemptuous. Titus follows him, but Gallien waits a moment, his grey eyes scanning me. He sits down next to me, placing his hand on my thigh. I’m surprised that his touch is welcome. I thought any of the triad touching me would make me pull back.

“He’s only half right. The people voted for you to represent them. You have their will. They work through you.”

I try to smile, but I can’t. I just sit, numbly staring at the chaos in front of me, the broken glass, the coffee pooling against a stained napkin.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay. That Cal and Evelyn’s triad can get her free, that we won’t be caught, that she’ll be safe.”

He squeezes my thigh gently. “It’s going to be okay. Fay will be freed and brought to a safe location, far from any of this. It’llbe kept under wraps. The Empire won’t even acknowledge that she’s gone.” His eyes tighten, and his face goes from comforting to terrifying in a moment. “And then Obsidian will come here to die. His fleets will be ground to dust, and he with them. There will be peace.”

Gallien stands slowly, walking behind me, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “It was always my dream to wed my Mate. You’re all that I wanted, all I will ever want. It may not feel perfect, not yet, but it will be. Trust us, Adriana.”

I run my hand over the corded muscles of his arm, breathing in and smelling the alien musk of the third of the triad, the one I feel closest to, the one that scares me the least. There’s a pang of ache in me. I want to give in so badly, to let him flow into my mind, to never be alone again. I want to feel all three of them, and know that they’re okay, know that behind all the violence and bloodshed in their souls that there is that band of honor that cannot be broken.

If I hadn’t felt that, in the moment when the Bondthrummed,I never would have let any of this happen. That’s what reassures me.

“Okay. You’ve got battle plans to draw up, I’m sure. And I’ve got a million messages and meetings to deal with before tomorrow.”

He kisses the top of my head softly, then slips away, silent as a cat, and leaves me alone in the dining room, overwhelmed by my thoughts. I look down at my smart-watch. All I want to do is call my sister, spill my guts to her, speak of light things and heavy, see her face glow with excitement of the coming wedding.

“Call a meeting with the planetary representatives in fifteen minutes,” I state instead, curtly relaying the message to one of my administrators.

Now is when I can least afford to be weak.

Tonight I am Prime Minister...

Tomorrow I will be something more.

42

ADRIANA

Iraise my finger ever so slightly, a subtle gesture that the well-trained palace servants obey immediately, without complaint, though it’s the third time it’s happened while they meticulously apply my makeup and arrange my hair. They exit silently, closing the door behind them and waiting in the entrance hall above the spiral staircase.

I’ve been transformed. I’m so used to seeing myself in the drab greys of the Administration. The wedding dress is so soft against my skin, the silk alive, interwoven with strands of the living silk that is used for pleasure dresses. The white leaves and flowers, hand-stitched by my sister, look so real they could disappoint a bumblebee. Doman gave me a present of glimmering diamond earrings, and I feel like a princess in a tower.

I was offered my choice of rooms to prepare in the palace. I chose a secluded chamber high in one of the towers, knowing that no one would clamber up hundreds of stairs without purpose.

Those stairs did nothing to stop the endless requests for holo-vid calls and meetings.

Through the window, the meticulously manicured gardens of the Aurelian palace unfold in a spectacle of organized beauty. Every plant, each leaf seems chosen specifically. I let myself take a moment before answering the latest urgent call, my mind clouded, split between my duties as Prime Minister and the anticipation of being wedded to the crown prince and his triad.

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