Chapter 3

I’m on edge. I stare into the comms screen at one of the Roth settlement leaders. He’s one I haven’t met before, and based on this meeting, he’s a genuine piece of shit.

“You deign to bring your new human bride to our settlement, just as your brother did before he abdicated? Are we supposed to assume that you will also abandon your duties to rut your pretty new human wife?”

Fury blisters through me, and fire builds in my veins, the ugly emotion searching for a way out.

“You will speak of my wife, your queen, with the respect she is due, Roghat.” It comes out even more aggressively than I planned, and all the bastard on the screen does is smile lazily back at me.

“I will reserve my respect for those who have earned it,” he retorts calmly. “And your soon-to-be bride is not amongst them.” He manages to look down his gray nose at me. “Nor are you.”

Fire cascades down my arms, out of control. I level my angry gaze at him, letting the flames burn hotter, faster. “You will,” I tell him, and it’s a threat.

The comm ends, and the last thing I hear before the connection cuts off is his throaty laugh.

No one will talk about my wife—my queen—like that when I am through with this diplomatic tour.

Which is one of the many reasons I am sick to my stomach at the thought of marrying her. I haven’t seen Piper in the days leading up to today, our wedding day. Not since she appeared in front of me in the throne room to declare herself my future wife.

The week has passed in a frenzy of activity, an air of excitement pervading the entire palace. I am not excited.

All I feel is guilt.

The Piper I know is a sweet, fragile thing, like a shilath flower that blooms in the spring. The lilac bud opens for one hour in the cool morning air, only to close up as soon as the atmosphere warms. She is as delicate and beautiful as the shilath, and all I can think of is how being married to me will ruin her. Her petals will never blossom, not under my heat.

Not with the depth of my needs.

A muscle ticks in my jaw, an involuntary motion that makes me even more frustrated.

If I were a less selfish male, I would call it off, figure out how to stamp out these rumors of rebellion without subjecting the human female to any more of my kind’s depravity, our cruelty.

Depravity that I share, deep down.

I lie awake at night, my cock harder than it’s ever been, and think about how badly I want to lick every inch of her skin until the scent of her is indelibly embedded in my memory.

“I will take my time with her,” I murmur under my breath, pacing the room, my thoughts racing. I won’t force her. I won’t give into my rougher, dominating instincts.

She is too precious to mishandle.

The door to the communications chamber opens, revealing one of many nameless Roth priests at the entrance.

“It is time for the ceremony,” he says, his eyes trained on the floor like he is afraid of me.

It takes me a moment to realize my body’s become an inferno, my temper raging in flames across my skin, the once-latent power now on full display.

It takes an enormous amount of energy manipulation to bring it back under control, something I dearly lack.

Something that could cost Piper everything.

I scrub a hand down my face, my skin steaming as it cools.

“Any word from Nydo?” My older brother would know how to help me control this… power—our royal birthright of energy manipulation.

But as Roghat was all too happy to remind me, Nydo and his female are gone, ostensibly enjoying each other’s company instead of running the affairs of our species.

Our damned bloodthirsty species.

The worst part is, I can’t even sustain my anger at him.

I don’t blame him for abdicating. Not when his female wanted nothing to do with ruling, not when he stood to lose her and his sanity if he didn’t give up the throne.

I just never planned on succeeding him. Never even gave it one thought.

“He has not sent word,” the priest finally answers, relief washing over his face at the sight of my extinguished flames.

Fuck. Of course he hasn’t. He gave it all up, and knowing Nydo, he won’t bother looking back. I blow a breath out of my gritted teeth, staring up at the ceiling.

“King Lyko?” the priest presses, his dark gaze finally meeting mine. “Are you ready to begin the marriage ceremony and ritual? It is time.”

“Does it matter when I get there? You cannot begin without me,” I snap.

He clears his throat, an apologetic cast to his lips. “We thought… with the current political, ah, situation, that it might be in the best interest of the Roth unity that the ceremony is conducted in the old ways.”

My head jerks, my gaze pinned to him. Surely I didn’t hear him correctly.

“In the old ways,” I repeat, disgust and arousal warring within me.

“Yes,” he says slowly. “To ensure that the marriage is consummated appropriately and to gain the approval of the gods who have long abandoned us.”

“You want to watch me… with my wife, for our first time, to appease gods you admit have abandoned us?” I take a step closer to him, then another, until he’s backed against the door, the scent of rancid fear emanating from his pallid gray skin.

“I do not wish to, no. That is not my wish. But after the Overlord, after your brother… doing this the traditional way would be best.”

“You think your gods need you to watch me fuck your queen?” My teeth are bared, and he flinches at the violence in my tone.

He fucking should, too.

“No,” I grit out. “No, and do not even think of mentioning it to… my wife.” I choke out the words. My wife. She will be mine.

I want that so badly my entire body seizes up in anticipation.

“The queen-to-be has already agreed to the terms. She agreed to do as we thought best for the good of Roth and Earth alike.”

My eyes go wide with disbelief. “You expect me to believe Piper is amenable to the idea of being… watched?” My cock is harder than steel, and a vision of her splayed out beneath me flashes through my mind, her pleasure mine and for all to see at once.

Gods. I am worse than even I led myself to believe. Shame grips me. It’s another reason why Piper and I should not be married.

Of course she agrees to the priest’s terms, to this inane, outdated practice. She is too sweet, too eager to please.

That vision of her flashes through me again, and I swallow hard.

I want her to please me.

“Fine,” I snarl. “Have it your way.”

The priest bows his head, his relief evident through his posture. “Very well. Come with me. Your bride has already begun the ceremonial bath.”

“Do not speak to me about her in the bath,” I roar, my anger incandescent, out of control, punctuated with flame. “Do not even think about her bathing.”

He bobs his head, hand closing over the doorknob as he yanks it open and runs through the corridor in his urgency to get away from me.

I stare after him, my out-of-control energy flames dying slowly around me.

Am I really such a monster?

I am marrying a human female who has every right to hate my people after we invaded Earth, after what we’ve done. A human female who deserves a life of peace and joy, a life I know I cannot give her.

I know all this, and I choose to marry her still. To rut her like the beast we Roth are, in front of the priesthood, in an attempt to quell the rumors of rebellion.

I think I have my answer.