Chapter Three

JOLAK’S FIRST meeting with King Duran was scheduled to take place at a neutral location called Aturn, which was basically a luxury resort planet extremely close to Jolak’s home world. He’d traveled with his own retinue, including a diplomatic representative to stand in for his father.

As Jolak boarded the shuttle that would carry him there, his mind was a whirlwind of expectation and apprehension. Aturn was chosen for its symbolic representation of balance and peace—an ideal setting for a meeting between royals and the negotiations that would follow.

Because that was exactly what this was. Negotiations. Tah’Nar had wanted males. Jolak’s father had the alliance he wanted. Now it was Jolak’s turn to negotiate what he wanted.

And what did he want? Nothing outrageous, really. The ability to visit and/or communicate with his home world. A promise he would be treated with respect. Access to his own funds. A small temple in the palace where he could worship Afazdar, their goddess of justice.

And his own private garden created from his world’s native plants.

He was willing to negotiate on other matters, but he would not budge on this final point. For him, being surrounded by nature was essential. Luckily, Tah’Nar was a tropical planet, so this shouldn’t be an issue.

During the journey, Jolak spent his time gazing out of an observation window, reveling in the endless expanse of space. His planet was limited to short shuttle trips offworld.

He was envious of the advanced Tah’Narian space program, but through their new alliance, their struggling program would be brought up to speed. He couldn’t help but feel excited about exploring space alongside King Duran if they did mate.

Suddenly their captain’s voice cut through the calm of the cockpit. “Shields up!”

he bellowed, his tone urgent. “Prince Jolak, buckle in and prepare for impact. We have an unidentified craft quickly approaching, but it appears to have the same crest colors as the Western Hemisphere kingdom, and... incoming!”

Jolak clutched the harness, which he had fortunately not unhooked, as their shuttle rocked violently from being hit.

“Does this shuttle have weapons?”

Jolak asked, trying not to panic.

The response from a crew member was grim. “No, Prince Jolak, we do not.”

Jolak’s heart sank at the realization. “Send a subspace message to King Duran immediately.”

“Not our people?”

“What are they capable of doing? Nothing. Send the message to King Duran. He’s the only one who can help us and pray he’s close enough to get here in time,”

Jolak said as their shuttle was rocked yet again as another plasma torpedo bounced off their shields.

Every second felt like an eternity as they waited for a response, knowing that their very survival depended on it. It was a brazen move for their enemy to attack like that. It was practically a declaration of war. And for what? The alliance had already been solidified. Jolak’s death would serve them no purpose.

Did Emperor Adama really think the Tah’Narians would do nothing? The alliance with the Tah’Narians clearly stated they would provide assistance if the Eastern Hemisphere kingdom, Jolak’s kingdom, was attacked, regardless if he and King Duran were mated or not.

Idiots.

Still, Jolak’s mind raced through every possible scenario he could think of, each more dire than the last, as he tried to find the reason for this attack. He clung to the hope that King Duran would receive their distress signal and act swiftly.

The captain’s voice crackled through the comm system, strained yet steady. “We’re attempting evasive maneuvers, but our propulsion systems are taking heavy damage. I’m deploying countermeasures and still sending an SOS to the Tah’Narians.”

Their shuttle veered sharply, Jolak’s harness biting into his chest. He tightened his grip on one of the straps, feeling the pull of his body as the gravity systems struggled to compensate.

Through the observation portal, Jolak glimpsed their attacker—an antiquated shuttle fitted with weapons bearing the insignia of Emperor Adama. There was their proof.

“Unbelievable,”

Jolak whispered. Did they not understand how egregious this was? “Captain? Are you able to open a line of communication to that shuttle and then patch it back here so I can speak to them?”

“I can, my Prince.”

“Do it. It’s probably a useless gesture, but maybe if I informed them that the Tah’Narians are meeting us, they’ll call off the attack. Otherwise, there is a distinct possibility the Tah’Narians will blow them out of orbit.”

“Give me just a—Okay. Communication line established and opened,”

announced the captain said. “Go ahead, my Prince.”

“This is Prince Jolak of the Eastern Hemisphere kingdom,”

he started, hoping his voice projected royal authority. “Your aggression is unwarranted and will not be tolerated. Cease your attack immediately or face severe repercussions from the Tah’Narians.”

There was a crackle on the line before a harsh voice answered back. “Prince Jolak, your new allies have not been forthright with you or your people. We have evidence of their treacheries—lies woven into this so-called alliance.”

Jolak frowned, questions swirling in his mind like a storm. “Provide your evidence,”

he demanded.

“We will discuss terms face-to-face,”

replied the Western Hemisphere kingdom commander. “Surrender now, and perhaps we can negotiate peaceably.”

“So you can take me hostage in this ill-conceived attack against not only my people but the Tah’Narians? No. We will not surrender. In fact, I advise you to break off your attack and retreat while you are still able,”

Jolak snapped.

Another voice broke through the communications link—a voice filled with authority and calm urgency. “This is King Duran of Tah’Nar. Stand down, Western Hemisphere kingdom forces. You are engaging a diplomatic envoy under my protection.”

The Western Hemisphere kingdom commander scoffed audibly over the comm link. “King Duran, your reach exceeds your grasp. Withdraw now or—”

A squadron of Tah’Narian fighters appeared from hyperspace, sleek and menacing, as they positioned themselves between Jolak’s battered shuttle and the Western Hemisphere kingdom ship.

“Thank you for arriving so timely,”

Jolak breathed into the comm as relief washed over him.

King Duran’s voice was firm but carried a hint of reassurance. “Hold tight, Prince Jolak. We’re escorting you to Aturn. My ships will handle these... intruders. King Duran out.”

The Tah’Narian fighters opened fire. No warning. No negotiation. They did not relent until the attacking shuttle was nothing but space debris.

“They destroyed them,”

a crew member whispered.

“They didn’t have a choice. The Western Hemisphere kingdom will be lucky if that’s all the Tah’Narians do.”

As a royal, Jolak understood the necessity of not appearing weak before other species.

The Tah’Narians were known as warriors even though they lost the war with the Onfre. This was likely one of the reasons for their firm stance against any perceived attack on themselves or an ally.

They couldn’t afford another sign of weakness.

Nevertheless, the incident had shaken Jolak. His prospective mate could be ruthless, which was not necessarily a bad thing. A mating that bound the two kingdoms would only make his people stronger. Not to mention he found King Duran’s actions incredibly sexy. Not the killing so much, but definitely his act of protection.

By the time Jolak saw the rolling hills of Aturn, he was more than ready to meet the Tah’Narian king. Once they’d docked, he was escorted from his shuttle.

King Duran was already there, waiting on the landing with a contingent of his own advisors. The Tah’Narian king stood out not just because of his striking physical appearance—with those feline features that suggested both elegance and lethality—but also because of his aura of assured command.

As Jolak approached, his gaze immediately met that of King Duran’s. The air between them crackled with a raw, palpable energy. Was it from that minor skirmish? Or something else? Jolak extended his hand, palm up, and King Duran mimicked the action, pressing their hands together.

“Prince Jolak, I regret that your journey was met with such hostility.”

King Duran greeted him with a formal nod, his voice resonating with a deep timbre that seemed to echo slightly, even in the open space of the landing platform.

“Your timely intervention was most appreciated, King Duran,”

Jolak replied, maintaining eye contact. “Thank you. You most likely saved my life.”

Duran smiled slightly, a gesture that transformed his harsh features into something unexpectedly warm. “A life well worth saving. It was very much my pleasure. I hope that our futures might be more intertwined than either of us could have anticipated.”

“As do I.”

As they strolled towards the grand building that served as both palace and government center on Aturn, Duran was silent for a moment before speaking. “The evidence your attackers spoke of troubles me, Prince Jolak. They claim we were deceitful in the forming of this alliance. Let me assure you they are wrong. We will stand by what we committed to.”

“I believe you. If you noticed, they offered nothing concrete, just wild words of hearsay,”

Jolak said.

“I know, but nevertheless, it bothers me greatly. Tah’Nar is not without its faults, as I’m sure you know, but I am not the king who caused the war with the Onfre.”

“You overthrew him, am I correct?”

“Yes. My planet underwent a civil war thanks to the actions of one male. And my people are still paying for those actions, which is partly why you and I are both standing here.”

“Your need for mates.”

“Yes. We are unable to reproduce now and need young men who can. You know our history?”

“I do, yes. Also, I know the amount of research and experimentation you did before finding a method that works for your race,”

Jolak said.

“It was a dark undertaking,”

King Duran said. “But I’m glad you are aware of it. I don’t want there to be any surprises for you as my mate.”

“As I said, I know your history, and I know what would be required of me. And how it would be done so I may bear a young for you. I’ve read the medical documentation, King Duran.”

“Excellent. I need you to enter into this fully informed.”

“I believe that I am.”

“Please feel free to ask me any questions about the process. I would prefer that you did. We also need to notify your father of the attack on you,”

King Duran said

“I’m sure my crew took care of that,”

Jolak said.

“Excellent. I would also like to advise caution until we understand their motives.”

Jolay felt a chill despite the warm air. “I trust you will help me uncover the truth?”

“That is my intention,”

Duran assured him as they entered the palace. “My people do not need their name blackened any more than it already is.”

They arrived at a large circular room. Jolak’s retinue and King Duran’s royal guards assembled around a polished round table that reflected the high ceilings above.

King Duran took his seat, indicating Jolak should sit beside him. “Let us begin,”

Duran announced firmly. The advisors quietened, turning their attention toward their leaders. “We have already formed an alliance. I would like to also potentially bind our kingdoms more deeply than mere politics would dictate.” He paused for effect. “I propose not just an alliance but a union—through mating.”

Jolak cleared his throat, aware of every gaze fixed on him. “It would indeed create strong bonds between our peoples. I would agree to such a proposal, but I have a few stipulations to discuss.”

King Duran leaned back in his chair. “Such as?”

Jolak quickly listed the things he wanted.

“My dear prince, it should go without saying that of course those things would be afforded to you. I would like our joining to be more than just a political arrangement between the two of us. I would like to have a true relationship.”

“Is that not a hope we all have?”

“Then you would be open to that?”

“Certainly. However, for a genuine relationship to develop, don’t you think it’s necessary for us to truly know each other?”

Jolak asked.

“I would, yes. What would you recommend?”

Jolak finally smiled. “Time to get to know you.”

“I believe I would enjoy that as well. What are your thoughts on starting with a week-long stay here?”

“I would find that highly acceptable.”

King Duran turned to his advisors. “We will be staying here for a week. Make the necessary arrangements.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

There was a scramble of people from King Duran’s side.

“Prince Jolak? Who do you need to inform?”

Jolak glanced at the person sitting nearest to him. “Please inform my father of what has transpired.”

“Yes, my Prince.”

Standing, King Duran held out his hand. “I’ve heard they have the most magnificent gardens here. Shall we explore?”

Standing, Jolak took King Duran’s hand. Cautious optimism bubbled within him. The possibility of combining forces with Tah’Nar through bonds of marriage intrigued him more than he cared to admit—both politically and personally.

As they exited into the warm sunlight, Jolak rested his hand on King Duran’s arm. He couldn’t think of a more perfect way for them to get to know each other than a walk through a garden, one of Jolak’s most favorite places.

It was a promising start.

Kia’s POV of His Harvest

This is Kia’s story, and it comes with a very strong trigger warning—this is going to be hard to read. Hell, it was hard to write. But rest assured, there is no violence depicted on the page, so you won’t actually see how Kia is treated.

I hinted at what Kia went through in Journey’s End and then delved more into it in Bound by Love and Bound by War. If you’ve read those books, you already know about the Ne Reyn and Queen Ogill. Chapter One may be tough to get through, but things improve when the Tah’Narians come looking for mates.