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  Or is it? I know I must be imagining it.

  If Lezena’s aura is in my mind, there’s only one explanation – that she’s our Bonded mate. That would explain the feeling we had – the moment we first laid eyes on that curvy beauty in the gardens of her estate.

  But no matter how it feels, the odds are too ridiculous. Too extreme.

  There have only been three Bonded triads in recent history, starting with the mating of Queen Jasmine and Emperor Raegan’s triad over one hundred years ago, followed by a young criminal named Ella who nearly tore the Empire apart when her triad faced off against the Emperor’s own battle-brothers.

  Lastly was the woman I feel the most respect for, Inspector Sandra Bellinks – who avenged a horrifying terrorist attack over a century ago, and ended a death cult that would have burned the entire universe if it had its way.

  Three Bonded triads, in almost a thousand years. Amidst the billions of humans spread across the galaxy, and the millions who were part of Aurelian harems, the chances that we’d be the ones to find a Bonded mate are astronomical. The odds of being Bonded to Lezena are slim to none…

  Surely.

  And yet, I ache for it to be true. If we were, not only would Lezena be able to bear us children – natural-birthed children, strong and healthy – but we’d always be able to feel her in our minds. I would always be able to know that she was alive and well.

  Suddenly, a deep, dark shudder runs down my spine.

  I know the other changes the Bond makes. It enhances every desire in the Bonded members. I felt the cravings that Lezena had to submit to us. If we are truly Bonded, then they would be magnified – until she desired being used, spanked, and punished hard for our pleasure.

  My own need is far different, and it was so strong that I can’t imagine it growing even more powerful. I wanted to make Lezena feel so much pleasure that she lost all sense of herself – that she became nothing more than a golden ball of sensation caused by me.

  “Gods damn you, focus!” Raka barks, and I jolt out of my fantasy. They can sense my lust through the Bond.

  “We’ve got a war to win before we claim her,” snarls Raekon, the veins in his neck swelling with his anger and frustration.

  A new excitement builds in me. It’s the battle lust that lurks inside me – my darkest instinct, barely restrained. I love how I never think in a battle. I simply do. It’s terrifying and liberating to lose myself in the majesty of combat – to become the killing machine that I feel may be my truest nature.

  “What’s the plan?”

  Raka pilots us nearer to the planet. Territus is a brown and earthy orb hanging in space. Very little water dots the surface, and our research shows us that the planet’s denizens inhabit vast underground cities. Raka keeps our Reaver at a distance, outside of scanner range, and maintains an orbit with the broiling sun between us and the planet. Anyone who glances with the naked eye from a ship will be blinded long before they spot our tiny ship.

  Raka ponders: “We did our research. Now we have to make the choice.”

  The choice.

  I studied through every piece of information the Aurelian Empire had collected about Territus and Tear, my eyes scanning thousands of years of information. The Aurelian Empire was in control of this section for millennia, and our spy network was intensive at times. Through that, I’d developed a general understanding of the Consortium and the politics of the two planets.

  It comes down to two options.

  If option one is the truth, Lezena has been taken hostage by the Dulloth family in order to secure the vast stores of Liquidium that the Albright family have unearthed. From our spies’ records, the stores that their Liquid Mines tapped into are far greater than even the patriarch of the Albright family understands.

  The second option is that Lezena is being used as a pawn to wed the two families together, a move that would have been orchestrated at the hand of one of the true powers in the sector, House Kala. Our spies have shown that they’d been working closely with the Dulloth family for years, giving them resources to position the house towards a bid for high-nobility within the sector in return for increased influence on Tear.

  “It’s the second,” I say.

  “How the fuck can you be so sure? You’ll risk it all on a guess?” Raekon slams his fist against the console. He’s ready for war – consumed by it – and until he gets the fight he’s broiled and burning for, he’ll remain a ball of barely-contained rage, ready to be unleashed.

  “Trust me,” I reply, because I know it’s the option that makes the most sense. The Dulloth family is ambitious, but cautious. They’d only make a move directly against the will of the Consortium if they had the backing of a superpower to support them.

  House Kala is that superpower.

  “And the other options?” Raka demands, making minuscule adjustments to the course of our ship, to get us closer and closer to Territus without being spotted.

  He’s talking about the other hundreds of possible scenarios that our ship’s AI spat out at us when we tasked it with analyzing the data. Each one had less than a one percent chance of being true, but together they represent nearly a quarter of the possibilities. Option two, the one I believe is the case, was calculated at only thirty-four percent by the AI – behind the stronger probability of the kidnapping scenario; which the AI put at thirty-eight percent.

  “I know.” I state the words slowly. I do know. Know.

  Deep in my brain, my heart, my gut, I know that the second option is the one that holds the truth. I feel like I’m being guided to the correct answer by some force deep within my instincts – as if my ancestors themselves are calling out from the eons to push me towards the correct course of action.

  “Fuck. That means it’s the three of us against an army.”

  “Call up information on the Kala family’s defenses.”

  A holographic screen appears.

  Gods!

  Superpower is right. House Kala have over ten-thousand soldiers in their employ – a veritable private army that rivals that of some independent planets.

  In addition, they possess a fleet of fifty-two light attack ships, two interstellar transports, and access to a massive mothership shared between them and two other allied families.

  “I can kill a thousand – but ten thousand?” Raekon grips the hilt of his Orb-Flail, trying to process the thought of going up against such insurmountable odds.

  He wanted a fight. The fates were delivering one.

  “Show me their city,” Raka orders, and the hologram opens up to display a map of the underground city.

  It’s bizarre. To live your whole life never seeing the atmosphere of your own city – the horizon, or the sun above you. I’d heard rumors of the Scorp Blood tribe living in underground caves, but even they would surely come out to taste the sweetness of fresh air from day to day.

  This underground city has a multitude of buildings within it – larger than the main city of Tear, even. We don’t have a live feed, but I watch video images of small ships zipping left and right through the city streets. The video was taken two years ago – but it’s doubtful much has changed since

  “We’re shifting in.”

  Black horror comes through the Bond from Raekon, and it mirrors mine.

  “You’ve gone mad!” Raekon growls, no longer staring out the window but looking straight at Raka.

  “Keep your eyes peeled – we’re in hostile space,” replies Raka, challenging Raekon. Raekon glares for a moment longer, then goes back to targeting his Orb-Beam.

  My breath is quick and shallow. An underground Orb-Shift is absolute insanity. There’s no way to be that precise – not unless your hands and calculations are guided by the Gods themselves.

  Theoretically, there’s no way we’d land in one of the few spots of safety underground. If Raka makes this choice, we won’t even know he fucked up at the moment it kills us.

  We might suddenly shift into solid rock. We could be squis
hed and crushed before we can tell what killed us. We’d be dead before we knew it.

  “Raka, you can’t be serious. We need a new plan.”

  “You knew it was option two. I… I know I can do this.”

  The protest dies on my lips. Somehow, I feel the truth in his words.

  “You can feel her too, can’t you?” Raka continues. “It’s faint – oh, so faint, but I feel her. I felt her before we became Rogue Aurelians. I felt her presence. That’s why we came to Tear, my blood-brothers. That’s why we’re here.”

  “Gods be damned,” Raekon murmurs with sudden wonder, shaking his head slowly. “You’re right. Fuck! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re right. We have to make the jump.”

  “Odds of success are 0.00034,” chimes the ship’s AI. A new wave of despair grips me.

  “We need to get as close as possible. Every foot closer means the Orb-Drive has a better chance of getting us inside.”

  Orb-Shifting is the only chance we have. It’s a tiny one, but it’s the only possible way we can get past Territus’ exterior defenses. There’ll be little defense inside the underground city itself, since the citizens correctly assume that nobody would ever be so foolish or reckless as to try to shift directly into such an enclosed space.

  Many ships have been lost by simply shifting too near a sun or a black hole, and those jumps were given the green light by the ship’s AI.

  Even the computer admits that our plan is akin to suicide.

  Raka gives me a long look. “I’m doing this without the program. I’m doing this by feel. Trust me.”

  Oh Gods… If he’s wrong…

  Raka pilots us closer, and I prepare myself mentally. The Orb-Drive will engage, and suddenly I won’t be here… Then I’ll suddenly rematerialize right on the cusp of the most brutal fight of my life; delivered into the heart of our enemy’s stronghold.

  Assuming we’re not all interred in an underground tomb for eternity by a tiny miscalculation in the Orb-Shift.

  14

  Lezena

  The bright, virginal white of my wedding dress contrasts with the utter blackness of the Orb-Collar around my neck. Everyone watching the ceremony will know that Kendrick owns me.

  The two servants next to me busy themselves with my hair, and I’ve never felt so alone; even with them there.

  I’d always imagined that at this moment – the day of my wedding – it would be Jenna beside me. I’d always imagined that she’d be the one comforting me, telling me positive things about whichever noble my father had finally set me up with. I always knew it would be a noble, if he could ever arrange it. A high-noble would never stoop so low as to marry me, and my father would view marriage to another low-noble as a lateral move.

  I slow my breathing before I can hyperventilate and pass out. I’ll never be comfortable again. At any moment, I know I could feel the horrifying pain again. This Orb-Collar around my neck is like a malevolent God - something that can decide whether I enjoy my life, or I experience a literal hell on earth. I just pray that it will remain on the manservant’s wrist, and that he continues to retain his distaste for unnecessary pain. It is only through his mercy that I’m still alive. I know that if I’d truly been forced to endure such punishment – especially as many times as Kendrick had instructed the servant to inflict it – I would have already reached out, smashed the glass of the mirror, and used the shards to cut my own wrists before Kendrick could make me feel such agony again.

  If Kendrick Dulloth gets the Orb-Collar, all will be lost.

  I shudder.

  Dulloth. Soon I will be Lezena Dulloth. Oh, Gods, why did I ever leave the Aquamarine? I thought the Aurelians would die there… but even then, I should have stayed with them, instead of abandoning them like a coward.

  I just hope Jenna is alright – although a cold suspicion deep in my heart says she might not be. The manservant is not cruel, but he won’t underestimate her – not again.

  He says she’s been sent back to Tear, but he could just have easily have killed her and incinerated her body. In that case, she’d never pose a risk to the Dulloth family again; and I would never discover the truth about what happened to her.

  Tears spring to my eyes, and it ruins the mascara. My assistants don’t say anything. They heard what happened to me, and they understand. This is the third time they’ve had to reapply it today.

  “Use the waterproof one,” says one servant to the other, and they exchange nods.

  Don’t think like that. That way has no hope. You can’t give up, Lezena! You just can’t!

  “You look beautiful,” one of the servants tells me. She’s got big, doe eyes and I know she’s trying to make me feel better. I’d heard all the rumors about Kendrick Dulloth before I first met him. My father had, as well. He either believed they were exaggerated – or was so blinded by ambition that he overlooked them when he’d set up our first meeting in the garden of our estate.

  I didn’t want to believe them either. Now I know that they are all true, and that Kendrick must have done many other horrific deeds that his family have covered up over the years. I wonder – if I hadn’t tried to escape, how long it would have taken for him to show his truly sadistic side? Not long, I imagine. Not long at all.

  The door opens without a knock. The manservant stands, his thick body looming over me. There’s nothing in his eyes as he looks at me – and yet then I see it: The tiny glint of pity. It gives me renewed hope. I suddenly know that the manservant wouldn’t have killed Jenna. I know it, deep in my heart. If this man believed he could let her free, he would have done so. The manservant is not an evil man – not like his master, Kendrick.

  “It is time,” the manservant states slowly, his voice booming. The two servants shy away from him.

  There are no smiles. No laughs or giggles. No last-minute trepidation - because there’s nothing but trepidation. A deep, cold horror. Everyone in attendance at this ceremony will knows that I’m an unwilling bride, tortured and abused. Everyone will know that I was sold to those three, brutal Aurelians – and yet my so-called ‘rescue’ has condemned me to a far darker fate. If only I’d stayed with those alien warriors. I craved everything they did to me. In fact, I craved so much more – and I wish deeply I could have chosen differently.

  Now, I’ve condemned myself. I have to follow the manservant out of this chamber towards the ceremony. My own father should be here to give me away, but he must be distancing himself from me. He knows the horrifying things that will happen to me, and yet he’s resigned himself to them.

  I used to think my father just wanted me to be his heir, to grow the family name and the business. Instead, I realize now I’m just a pawn in a larger scheme. He wants his grandchildren to be high-nobles. He cares more about them – even though they’re not yet conceived – than his own daughter. I’m just a stepping stone towards that goal, and everyone will step on me along the way until I’m crushed to a pulp.

  My own father has forsaken me. My only true friend is gone – perhaps alive, or perhaps dead. The three men who I believed would do anything for me aren’t coming.

  I’m alone. So utterly, utterly alone.

  I glance at the glass of the mirror. It’s tempting - so tempting. I could smash the glass and slit my wrists, right here and now. There’d be a sharp pain at first. Then perhaps panic, as my primordial brain regrets the decision. I’d have to make the cuts deep and true – so deep that there’s no going back, and no time for a medic to drag me back from the brink.

  I grit my teeth. No matter how bad it gets, I need to stay alive. Kendrick Dulloth is a monster. His father and mother are monsters for raising him this way, and for allowing him to do such horrifying things. I can’t kill him, or they’ll simply continue their path of evil alone.

  But perhaps – in some small, subtle ways – I could come to guide Kendrick away from the evil choices he makes. Perhaps at his side, I could give him some modicum of conscience.

  Perhaps I could be
ar the brunt of the hatred that lives deep within his soul; and spare others with my sacrifice.

  I follow the manservant out of the readying room and into the long hallway beyond. We’re in one of the Kala family’s many estates. Gold gilds the walls, and there’s not a speck of dust in the long hallway.

  “We can adapt to anything. It is the reason our species has survived so long.” The manservant speaks quietly to me, giving me a considering look as we walk down the hallway.

  I hope he retains that shred of mercy. He’s my only chance.

  “Please…” I try to think of his name, but I realize that no one has ever said it – especially not Kendrick, who probably thinks of him as a servant – a possession – and not even a real person. “Please, you can’t let this happen.”

  The manservant pauses, and suddenly his hand grips my wrist. He squeezes tightly, somewhere between reassuring me and letting me know that there is no escape. There’s no way out of what’s about to happen.

  “Girl,” he warns, “we are a small piece of a greater plan. The sector will flourish through the unity of three families, including the Albright house. One woman’s suffering is nothing compared to the prosperity this agreement will bring.”

  One woman is nothing. Unless you are that one woman.

  I realize I won’t have anything more than sympathy from this man. He will help me avoid unnecessary pain, but he won’t help me escape.

  There’s only one escape while the Orb-Collar is around my neck. Anything else is too risky. If I need to get out, the only way is through the final, unforgivable choice.

  Death.

  Will I do it tonight, before Kendrick touches me? Before I can be forced to lay with that horrific man?

  “Don’t resist tonight. I’ve heard Kendrick with women before… and it’s never pretty. If you resist, he’ll only enjoy it more. The ones with the fewest bruises afterwards are the ones who don’t try to make it stop.”

  Oh, Gods! Oh, Gods! I’m going to be raped by a monster!