Page 39 of Crown Prince's Mate

“I wish this was a game.” He flicks his fingers, and four red marks appear over planets on the tapestry of glowing stars in the three-dimensional map in front of me. “If you wish, you can verify the Mark-10 footage yourself. Or you can trust me,” he says, glancing to the side and down at me, his blue eyes inscrutable.

His Empire and Pentaris are rivals, and yet he is sharing classified information, and I know he would not lie to me. I felt it, in that moment where time stretched onwards, when I truly knew the alien prince.

It makes all the deliciously dark promises all the more frightening, because he believes them…

And I am starting to, as well. It’s hard to keep focused with eight-foot-tall of muscled, primal strength to my left, and two huge beasts across from me, sitting in their marble thrones like they are an extension of them, as if they were sculpted from the same block of marble.

“Something has changed. Either the War-God was hiding his abilities, or he has gained new ones.” I look up at Doman, my eyes tracing the contours of his side profile. His thick, blond mane cascading, a rebellious tumble that he pushes away from his eyes as he stares into the planetary map. His face is chiseled, all hard lines and strong, warrior features. “You knew. That’s why you were so generous with your offer. You’re going to set up military bases in Pentaris, where you are protected.”

He waves his hand and the map disappears. “You suspect me at every turn. I have been nothing but fair with you.”

“You manipulated me into a marriage proposal.”

“I manipulated you? I’ve heard there has been non-stop drinking on Frosthold since the deal terms were revealed. Everyone in this sector thinks you’re a genius who made us bow to your wishes.”

“I didn’t feel like such a genius when you leapt over the magma and kissed me in front of the universe.”

Doman gestures to the empty middle throne. “Sit up there, that we can speak eye to eye.”

“Oh? It won’t bother you to have a human on your Aurelian throne?”

“No one but I has ever sat on that throne. I would have you be the first.”

The throne towers, somehow both hard, edged lines and a strange, molded softness. I walk up to it and look up at the huge marble strength of it. Doman walks behind me.

“May I?” he asks, and I nod, ever so slightly. He grabs me by the waist, lifting me like I am weightless, and turns me, placingme on the throne. Then he steps back, down the steps, until we are eye to eye.

Silence stretches for a few long moments, while I feel I am perched in a giant’s chair.

“When I first felt your aura, you did not hate us so.”

“I was too surprised. One moment, I was taking a shower, the next I was… somewhere I didn’t understand, across from the three most famous Aurelians in the universe. I never once thought I went mad. I knew it was real, and I knew I could never tell anyone.”

Titus and Gallien shift in their thrones, leaning against the backs so they are turned towards me.

“What is it about us that burns you so?”

“Because you have no right. But you believe you do. That’s what I felt in you three. This… this unwavering certainty that the entire universe is owed to you.”

“You have my word. When the three years are finished, no Aurelian ship will infringe your territorial rights.”

I shake my head. “It is not infringement I fear. There’s drinking and huge feasts in Frosthold. Virelia has declared the day of our betrothal ceremonies will be a national holiday. Terosa has named it the trade deal of the millennium. They’re making a statue of me. I fear my people will welcome you with open arms. This security… it comes with a cost, and I don’t mean the protection taxes. We can’t live as slaves. We cannot be your vassal states, or we will wither away and never become what we were meant to be.”

Gallien leans in, his slate-gray eyes sharp. “When your species first took to the stars, you were nearly wiped out. Scorp hunted you. Toads enslaved you.”

“And Aurelians, too. Or do you forget that part of your histories? When the Priests ruled, and the Old Ways reigned?”

“That was a different time,” says Doman. Titus is silent, simply watching us.

“But the Old Ways still live. An entire third of your species harbored those desires. To own women. It is inherent to Aurelians. And that is what you have no right to.” I wave my hand. “It is true. Humanity would have suffered great losses if it was not for your species when we first took to the stars. Butthatis our history. On Old Earth, a million years before the Oil Age, homo sapien was reduced to a few thousand. Our population was nearly wiped out. We were nearly eradicated from the universe, but we built empires, we took to the stars, we lived. My species’ destiny is to be our own masters.”

Doman is listening to every word I speak in rapt fascination. “You’re right, Adriana. Except for one thing. The desire to enslave is not inherent to us. Or to me. I don’t want to own you by force, Adriana. I don’t want to enslave you.”

“And now you lie. That is what I felt, flowing from your being, in that moment of the vision.”

He smiles, but not with the cocky arrogance that makes my blood boil. “I want you, Adriana. But I want you deeper than ownership. I don’t only want your body. I can feel your primal instincts aching for me. But there is a part of you that cannot be conquered, a part of you that can only be given. That is what I crave.”

“That part of me, you will never have.”

---