I didn’t understand everything going on, but I knew what a Death Match usually meant and I felt my eyes tear up with a hundred emotions I could not name as I looked at my mate’s face. I would never tell Nial not to fight. That was not the way of the warrior, but I could worry. And I could offer solace when he returned to me, victorious. For he would emerge the victor. He had to.
I cupped his cheek in my hand. “If you have to kill them all, do it quickly, mate. Then come back to me. You’re mine now.”
He smiled then. “Always.”
I nodded and held back my tears. I belonged to my mates now, body and soul, but once I stopped feeling so damn good, I would find out about Nial’s father, this stupid death battle for the throne, and figure out a way to help Nial defeat his enemies. He was mine, and no one was taking him from me.
Chapter Thirteen
Ander
The bright orange glow of the setting stars filled the sky as Nial and I stepped off the transport platform on Prillon Prime, our mate between us, and walked the short distance to the palace arena. Already crowds gathered on the walkways, lining up to enter the arena and witness the duel to come. Many looked upon us with terror as we passed, some with curiosity, but none with welcome. Nial and I were both taller than most males on the planet. Our size, armor, and altered features were enough to send more than one male scrambling to get out of our way.
“It’s this way.” Nial led us down a side corridor and I followed, keeping our mate safely between us.
“It’s beautiful here.” Jessica wore a long gown of dark red, the color of house Deston, of the royal house. The collar around her neck would remain black until the claiming ceremony, but Nial had wanted everyone to know exactly whom she belonged to and I had agreed. Compared to the plain black and brown armor worn by most warriors, she stood out like a flame in a sea of darkness.
I had only been to the royal palace once before, years ago when I’d first been scarred and the Prime himself had pinned a medal on my chest and named me a hero.
The only thing I’d done was survive. My entire squad had been lost, but I’d been in the one ship carrying Hive intel back to command. Somehow, I’d maintained control of my ship and lived through the blast. I’d stayed alive. My brothers in arms had died, and the leader of our planet had labeled me a hero.
I’d sworn never to come back to this place again. I hated everything about it: the tall quartz pillars, the incessant chatter of hundreds of servants, and the wide-eyed, frightened looks of the civilians who looked upon a warrior in armor and chased after him with stars in their eyes.
Warriors were like prime steaks on display at a meat market here on the planet’s surface. If we survived the wars, we were considered the best mates, the strongest and most dangerous of our people. And they were right. If anyone so much as sneered at Jessica, I would remove their head from their body and stomp on the remains. This possessiveness was new, and pure instinct. My mate had shocked me with her lust, her acceptance, and her desire to please. She’d given us everything, submitted completely, which should have made me feel like I had mastered her. Instead, I simply felt humbled by her acceptance of my scars, my needs. All of me. I felt loved, and for the first time in my life I actually knew what that word meant.
I loved Jessica. And now, something threatened to tear our new family apart. I had offered myself as Nial’s second on a whim, fully expecting him to refuse. That had been the best decision I’d ever made. That moment brought me to Jessica, and I was not willing to give her up. Losing Nial would destroy her. She was attached to us both, but it had not escaped my notice than when she needed to be pushed, to be wild and out of control, she turned to me. When the world got too big for her and she needed to feel safe, it was Nial whose touch she sought, Nial whose promises she trusted.
She needed us both, and I would not see her suffer.
Nial navigated the back corridors and secret doorways with ease and I was grateful we did not need to attempt to force our way through the throngs of spectators above. When we reached the very edge of the arena floor, Nial spoke to a guard, who would lead Jessica and myself to a designated seating area, and Nial into the arena.
Jessica flung herself into Nial’s arms and kissed him with a passion that made my cock hard, despite the situation. She was fire in his arms, and she was clearly marking him as her own. “Kill them all, then come back to me. Don’t forget who you belong to now. You’re mine, my prince.”
Nial nodded, but did not speak, and I led Jessica away following a guard in black armor to a pair of seats near the center of the arena. We were in the very front row, a waist high wall of stone all that would separate Jessica from the battles below.
We sat just as a loud boom rattled the seats and everyone hushed in a strange silence, waiting to hear the announcement of who entered the arena next.
“Prince Nial Deston.” The voice boomed from somewhere, and pandemonium broke out. People cheered. People booed. Arguments began in the seats with everyone pushing and shoving at those around them trying to get a better look at the prince, the contaminated prince and his silver eye.
Jessica grabbed my hand and I held her with the other on my weapon as Nial walked to the center of the arena below us. Opposite him, seven large warriors stood in line, presenting themselves to the Prillon high council.
At the mention of Prince Nial’s name, four of the challengers turned immediately and walked out of the arena. Jessica leaned forward to watch one of them disappear down a side tunnel. “Where are they going?”
I wasn’t a politician, but I knew well enough what had happened. “They don’t want to challenge if there is a legitimate heir to the throne. They’ve declined.”
“Oh, thank God! That only leaves three.” She seemed so pleased that I didn’t argue. Three or seven, it would make no difference, not to Nial.
As I watched Nial step forward, he bowed to the high council and staked his claim to the throne.
“I am Prince Nial Deston, son of Prime Deston, rightful heir to the throne of Prillon.”
One
of the elders leaned over the short wall separating them from the arena opposite us and shook his finger in Nial’s direction. “You were disowned, Nial. Everyone knows you are contaminated and fit for neither a bride nor the crown.”
Nial held his head high and I stood, pulling Jessica to her feet beside me. Nial lifted his hand and pointed in our direction. “May I present my bride and my second, Jessica Smith of Earth, and Ander, legendary warrior of the battleship Deston.”
Silence thick enough to slice settled over the gathered crowd as they tried to make sense of Nial’s words. No contaminated warrior had ever returned to Prillon, let alone with a bride and second. It was unheard of.