Page 31 of The Price of Peace
He took my hand and kissed my palm.True. But I did understand the last and most important part. Love is always the answer.
I smiled at him, unwilling and unable to deny it.
Peace One sighed and sat up, her energy somehow managing to match the spinning of the stars outside. “Listen, I get it. I really do. It took me a hot minute to accept that Varroc and I had this fated mate thing or whatever going on. I mean, granted, he’s hot as fuck. But look at him! He’s also huge. He’s terrifying. He has resting warrior face. And yet, somehow, he’s also the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Varroc grunted, but his hand on her hip pulled her just a bit closer.
I inhaled deeply. It wasn’t that I didn’t see what she was getting at. I felt it—that unshakable certainty every time Xyrox looked at me, every time we touched, every time his mind brushed against mine in quiet reassurance.
It both terrified and comforted me at the same time. I sighed, surrendering to it, and leaned into my mate’s warm, broad shoulder.
Prince Friðrik finally pushed off the wall and joined us, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but we need a plan.” His violet eyes were sharp. “Jökull won’t stop hunting you, or any of the other clones. We have much to do.”
The reminder of my clones, hunted and unprotected, sent a cold shiver up my spine. Regent Jökull—the one responsiblefor the original Peace’s abduction and our creation—although I couldn’t be mad about being created, I guessed—wanted to capture us and use us for experiments and breeding. He also set up Xyrox and tried to get my mate executed. My stomach knotted just thinking about it.
“I say we blow him up,” Peace One suggested cheerfully.
Friðrik gave her a flat look. “That isnotthe plan. You know that assassination is against intergalactic law.”
She grinned but relented. “Let’s just call it self-defense.”
Varroc, however, nodded approvingly.
We all turned serious.
“Whatisthe plan?“ Xyrox asked, his voice steady beside me.
Friðrik set his empty glass on the table. “That depends on what we uncover once we find him. We know he’s still operating illegally—black market gene editing, cloning, prohibited experimental enhancements—but he has powerful allies and he’s the richest man in the galaxy. We need to find him and expose him. Shut down his operation, while caring for his victims.” He exhaled. “Destroy his operation for good, and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Varroc slammed a fist against his huge chest. “My armies are at the ready, your highness.”
Peace One nodded enthusiastically. “You should see them! Not only are they huge and scary, they’re beautiful!”
Prince Friðrik nodded. “Thank you, Prince Varroc. We have to find Jökull—and the remaining Peaces—before we can deploy our armies.” He turned his attention to Xyrox and me. “We could definitely use your recent knowledge of his organization, Agent Quorath, and both of your tracking skills. I hope we can count on your assistance.”
A fire sparked in my chest at his words. He wasn’t just talking about stopping Jökull. He was talking about justice. Justice forwhat he’d done to me and to the other Peace clones—to all of his victims.
Xyrox and I both nodded. His warmth pressed into my mind, in silent agreement.
Peace One grinned, nudging Varroc. “Oh, she’s on board now. We’re in thefinale.”
I sighed. “You really have no self-preservation instincts, do you?”
“Absolutely none,” she chirped. “I was fifteen when I was “born”, so, you know, I have no childhood experiences to have learned from.”
Varroc wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. “Your fearlessness is what I love most.”
She beamed up at him, and I felt a strange pang at how effortless they were together. Messy. Chaotic. But undeniably right. I never thought I would take joy in others’ coupling—or my own.
A heavy hand settled on my cheek.
Xyrox.
The warmth of his touch steadied me, even before he spoke telepathically.We will take this criminal on and save any other sisters you may have. Together. Always together.
I looked up at him.
I had spent my life being taught I could only count on myself. That surviving meant never relying on anyone else. Zame was wrong. Relying on others wasn’t a weakness. I reached up, letting my fingers brush against his where they rested against me. His expression softened, something unreadable lingering there.
