Page 95 of Crown Prince's Mate

Gallien shakes his head minutely.“He will not stop.”Even in my mind, his voice is a whisper, as if our telepathic communication could wake our Mate. I let the heat of the old fire wash over me as I think on his words.

He doesn’t have to tell me who he is talking about.

“No. But we can stop him.”

Titus’ lips curl back in a silent snarl.“How? He flits around like a hornet, stinging and retreating. The news from the battlefield is more strikes, in quick succession. We take worlds, yes, but he wounds us. It will be the death of a thousand cuts.”Titus’ voice booms in my mind, and it makes my eyes narrow. I glance down at my smart-watch. We are retaking planets, but territory is nothing if he is able to flick through the Rift and strike us at any site.

If only we had not lost the technologies of Orb-Shift disruptors. If only we could build more and spread them through the universe.

“It ends the only way it can end. The same way it started.”I reach down to my blade, the familiar heft of the shaft in my palm.“And if his unborn son comes to avenge his father, then the cycle continues.”The Orb-Blade extends in unison with my thoughts, linked with my mind, blue-black flame strengthening with each pulse of the Orb in the hilt. It pulses in anticipation.

Gallien watches the blade of my Orb. Then he understands.“You plan to use Fay as bait.”He cocks his head over at Adriana.

“When it is done, and there is peace in the universe, she will understand.”

“Adriana won’t accept it. She hopes Fay can be used for a peace deal.”

“She is not so naïve. She is leader of the most powerful human planetary consortium out of the Human Alliance.”

“And what do you think she will say, when you reveal what you truly plan?”

I meet eyes with Gallien, the man I have felt in my mind since Academy. Over the centuries, we have learned each other so intimately we often know what we are planning before the other even says a word. The regret that flows from my aura to him and Titus makes them understand.

Adriana cannot know what we plan.

I deactivate my blade, and it lies, but it is not dormant. It is like the lion lying in rest for hours until prey comes near.

Adriana makes a small sound in her sleep, and her eyes blink open. “You three are up?” Her voice is groggy.

“You worked us up an appetite,” growls Titus, slapping his belly. “Give me a lift,” he says to Gallien, who boosts him. He reaches up through the smoke chute of the igloo and pulls down the huge pike we chased underwater, letting it fall heavily onto the interior. “If any part is still rare, my blade will cook it,” he says, activating his Orb-weapon in a practiced move and carving through the smoked fish.

We eat with our hands, in a circle around the fire, passing pieces down to Adriana. She chews on them blissfully, and her smell is filled with hope and belonging, subtle, nuanced emotions tinging the essence of the woman who will be our Mate. I long to throw off the black ring that encircles my finger like a hand around my throat, to truly be linked with her for eternity.

How long will that happiness last?

I can’t tell her what is coming. She would never accept it, and she is a powerful force. She would find a way to work against me, if she can see it coming.

The bliss of the moment is twisted, black coils of guilt twisting me inside, but there is no other choice.

I will end this war, the only way I know how to.

My blade through Obsidian’s heart.

And Fay is the key to luring him in.

27

ADRIANA

“So this is it. This is what death looks like.”

My voice echoes in the bay deep within the Aurelian warship. The bay has a dry smell to it. It was in the original schematics of the ancient ship, which was built during the war against the Toads when the Planet-Killers obliterated entire sectors, bustling life swallowed out of reality itself.

It is no bigger than a Reaver, yet it is not a ship designed for yearlong journeys. Its design is like nothing I have ever seen, a slender rod, each line and curve without an ounce of wasted material to serve one purpose: focusing the power of the Orb into annihilation.

The cockpit is a claustrophobic space, built for a lone Aurelian pilot, each inch of it lethal precision.

It’s hard to tear my gaze away from the Orb powering it. It is colossal, dwarfing any I could have dreamed of, a pulsating heart of raw, barely tamed energy that draws the gaze in. The rhythm of the pulse scares me, like the beating heart of something alive, casting eerie shadows over the hangar bay, blue-black light reflecting strangely off the planes of Doman’s hard face.

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