Chapter 20

I’m drooling everywhere. I hope Abraxas doesn’t mind adding extra laundry days to his schedule. I can’t help it. Sometimes when I sleep, I drool. Don’t most people? No? Just me? With a grumble, I roll over, nuzzling into my mate’s warmth. His smell calms me in a way nothing else ever has. Isn’t that crazy? That a person could get so worked up by something as invisible as pheromones?

His arms come around me, holding me close, and I know that I’m safe.

Cardamom and honey.

It hits me like a punch to the gut, and I gasp, shoving up violently from where I was sleeping.

Seems to me that I was in the prince’s arms.

He holds his hands up and out to either side, as if in surrender. But his head is bowed, and he has this awful smile on his mouth that makes me feel perfectly homicidal. Those demonic eyes of his open up and he turns to me, tucking his massive antennae back against his head. They extend past his skull on either side, like rabbit ears or something.

I slam my body into a metal wall, panting heavily, eyes blurred from sleep. I’m still naked, standing in a small room with the moth prince and another guy of the same species. The other dude is far less attractive, despite sharing similar features. That bothers me.

“My apologies, Imperial Highness. It’s well-known that the Aspis have the ability to disrupt electrical signals, but I did not believe it would extend to one’s mate.”

The prince sighs, pulling red gloves from his pocket and slipping them on. He crosses his arms over his chest, his fur-like hair falling halfway down his back. His wings rest in a clever nook carved into the back of the chair, like it was designed for this express purpose.

My eyes dart around the room. The only window shows … it shows … I can see …

“Oh my God.” I turn and throw up on the floor. Not my most dignified moment, but … we’re in space. It’s one thing to wake up on another planet. It’s a whole other to be in goddamn motherfucking outer space! “I hate space,” I whisper, feeling a panic attack coming on. I push the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to calm my rapid heart rate. Remember when I said I’d imagined horrible ways to die? Lava was one of them. Being ejected into outer space in a suit and having to make the decision on whether or not to remove the helmet, starving to death, or simply waiting for my oxygen to run out as I’m sucked toward a blackhole— “I hate spaceships.”

Never been (conscious) on one before, but I already know I’m not going to like it.

My gaze drifts up to the ceiling. There are … like, tendrils or something snaking along the ceiling and the walls. Some of them are crimson and meaty while others glow and pulse, like a heartbeat. I look to my right and see a large vein-like growth. What the hell is this?

“You hate space?” the prince repeats, standing up from his chair. I reach up my hand to feel for the translator, intending on tossing it against the wall in protest. It’s not there. “You hate spaceships?” He sounds exasperated, especially when his gaze drops to the mess I’ve just left on the ground.

As I stare out the window, I see a distant planet, patchy with green and sapphire.

It’s Jungryuk. It’s Abraxas’ planet. Abraxas is down there.

I am up here.

I am here.

I am …

“What have you done?” I ask, sliding to the floor. I’ve been through a lot recently. Waking up under the Humans … pets, meat, or mates sign was a pretty big shock. Somehow, this is worse. I have the distinct and unshakeable feeling that I will never see Abraxas again.

I was falling in love with him.

I love him.

“We have outfitted you with a translator,” the prince explains, moving over to stand in front of me. His wings sway like a cloak around his booted feet. “You’ve been given synchronicity contacts; you will see us speaking as if we are truly speaking your language. It will allow us to have more pleasant interactions with one another.”

I look up at him with a strangled laugh stuck in my throat.

The only thing keeping me calm here is this: without me, the prince will die. Abraxas told me that, and I trust him as much as I’ve ever trusted anyone. Moth Guy—Rurik—needs me. He can’t kill me. But he can lock you up, chain you to a wall, keep you there for the rest of your miserable life. All he needs is your blood.

“Pleasant interactions?” I breathe, shoving up to my feet. I might be naked, but I don’t have to let him have the high ground. The other moth guy—a doctor, I think—turns away to face the wall, allowing us a modicum of privacy.

Rurik stares me down with his horrible eyes. There’s a deep sadness in them, one that echoes back from inside of me, like I’m making a huge mistake by wanting to hate him. And hate him I do.

“Put me back where you found me.” I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides. Not all that long ago, I would’ve been … well, not thrilled to be here, but I would’ve had hope that I could return to Earth. Or find Jane. If this guy is a prince, he must have plenty of resources at his disposal.

He smiles at me again, and it’s as ugly as it was the last time around. He’s wearing something strange on the left side of his head and over his face, something with a small, red screen that partially covers his eye. I can see tiny words scrawled across it, like maybe it’s the alien version of a smartwatch or something. He reaches up to remove it, setting it on the medical table beside him. I didn’t wake up on that table though; I woke up in his arms.

And I liked it.

Guilt and frustration sweep through me. I feel like I’m betraying Abraxas just by standing here, but what choice do I have? There’s no door that I can see. The window leads to certain death. I’m naked and clueless and helpless. Again.

I am so fucking sick of being helpless!

I slap the prince, and he lets me. He exhales heavily and closes his eyes again. When he looks back at me, that deep melancholy is gone, replaced with frustration and a little bit of rage. He’s mad. I’ve thoroughly pissed him off.

“You will not go back to Jungryuk. If you continue to insist upon it, I will ask my father for a favor. He will obliterate it from existence for me. Would you like that? To know that hideous animal was incinerated? That his entire species was? That would certainly make me feel better.”

I swing a punch at his stomach, but he doesn’t allow my fist to connect. He snatches my wrist in his gloved hand, gritting his teeth. He exhales and spreads his wings, and the room is saturated with that cloying scent. Cardamom and honey. Again. It’s everywhere. I’m choking on it. My body reacts like I’ve spent hours in a candlelit room with a generous lover and copious foreplay.

I tuck my lower lip under my teeth and bite down as hard as I can. The pain helps, but when I open my eyes, I see that the prince’s gaze is on my mouth. The blood. Copper taints my tongue, and he squeezes my wrist so tightly that I cry out.

I’m released in an instant, and he steps back, turning to the doctor in the corner. Poor guy. Probably just trying to do his job. I don’t particularly care. If I can, I’ll stick a knife in his back, too. Right, Eve. Good idea. Start killing people on this ship and then what? Where will you go? How will you get out of here? I obviously don’t know the first thing about space travel. I don’t even know where we are in relation to Earth.

I am as trapped as I have ever been.

“What about the mate markings?” the prince—Rurik—inquires, and I get the idea that this conversation is for my benefit. “Can we remove them?”

I know immediately what he’s talking about: the purple spirals inside of me, the ones that glow. Just the mere mention of removing them puts me into a rage-inducing panic.

“I am not sure, Your Imperial Highness, but I will look into it.”

“See to it that you do.” The prince grits his teeth and then waves his hand in a stiff-necked and authoritarian way. “Leave us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The man offers a formal bow, spreading his wings behind him. His antennae tuck close on either side of his head before he drops to one knee, brushing a finger against his lower lip and then rising like he’s done this a million times before. As he turns away, I see that his wings are not the pristine white of the prince’s. They’re decorated with a complex pattern in a brilliant bloodred color. I shift against the wall, and my arm accidentally touches one of the ship’s pulsing veins.

It’s warm.

I gag.

“You violated me while I was asleep,” I whisper, hating how upset I am by the idea. It all seems very clinical, but the thought that these two men were looking into my vagina without my permission, while I was unconscious and unable to defend myself, it makes me sick. Not just that. But those markings? My mating with Abraxas, it’s the most intimate and personal experience I’ve ever had.

I think about him, about how we sat and watched the rain together just yesterday. I think about all the wonderful and impossibly true things he said to me, about me.

“All of the things that make you alien are the things I cherish most.”

“It was not intended to be a violation; it was a routine examination carried out in my presence by a medical professional.” That’s his lofty, half-hearted response. He’s still staring at my mouth, the slits of his nostrils flaring at the smell. “You were put in the med bay and scanned, given a translator, and provided with synchronicity contacts, as I explained. Nothing untoward occurred toward your person.”

“You don’t think kidnapping a naked woman against her will and looking inside her pussy is untoward?” I’m shocked. Not at his response—it’s expected—but rather, I’m shocked that I’m shocked. Does that make sense? This guy has no reason to be anything but awful, but somehow there’s a voice inside me telling me that he isn’t. That he shouldn’t be. That he’s somehow mine, and I’m his, and I cannot fucking stand the absurdity of it.

“You made it necessary by mating an Aspis.” This is said like an accusation, and you know what the worst part is? It feels justified, like I betrayed him somehow. He certainly thinks it, and whatever odd shit is going on between us, I feel like it’s true, too.

“You made it necessary by purchasing the wrong woman,” I shoot back, remembering the day in the tent. He tasted my blood, was attracted to my blood, but he took Avril and left me there. That feels like a betrayal, too. “And you know what? I have no idea what alien hypno-psychosis shit you’re doing to me, but I hate the fated mates trope.”

He blinks at me with dark lashes against white skin. That black V-shaped pattern between his eyes only emphasizes how incredibly attractive he is. Not human, not really. But … beautiful.

“Fated mates?” he repeats, fixated on that part of the conversation. “There is but one female in the entirety of life and existence whose blood I can consume, whose body can fit with mine, who can produce and bear my children. You are it. The only one. You dare reject me?”

My head spins with all the things he’s just said. They feel true, and that disgusts me.

“You’re a parasite,” I hiss back at him. “A world eater.” Whatever that means. “Get out of my head and leave me alone! Are you delusional or something? I don’t fucking want you.”

He punches the wall again, right beside one of those pulsing veins, and he gets right up in my face. The smell of him is intoxicating to the point of distraction. It’s hard for me to even remember why I don’t want to be here. Abraxas. Please be okay. Please, please, please. I have the distinct feeling that if he dies, I’ll no longer feel the urge to live.

“I wished to establish a relationship with you first, but I am quite literally starving. I will make you a deal.” Rurik stands up straight, reaching up to brush his fingers over the bloodred fur below his throat. I’m pretty sure it’s a part of his body and not simply decorative. “Let me feed from you, and I will gift you a human companion.”

My eyes widen.

“Jane?!” I ask, because if everything else goes to shit, shouldn’t I at least be able to see my best friend? Please don’t let it be Tabbi Kat, I think, my eyes narrowing. Wouldn’t that just be the pits? I should’ve left her in the slaver’s cage on the side of the road.

The prince frowns, and it’s an absurdly human expression. How does he know to do that?

“Avril,” he repeats, just like he did in the market. Ah, right. That makes sense. His eyes meet mine again, and I want to cry. I don’t know why. There’s just something oddly tragic about him, about us, about this entire situation. “The one who was dressed entirely in your blood.”

“How long did it take you to figure out you’d grabbed the wrong woman?” I ask with a smirk. I shouldn’t do it, poke the bear and all that, but I can’t help feeling like he isn’t going to hurt me. “After you’d raped her and stolen her blood?”

He takes a step away from me, wings spreading fully out to either side of him. I wish I could lie and say they were ugly or weird, but they’re not. They’re absolutely stunning, filling the entire space from wall to wall and still unable to extend to their full span. Chemicals and pheromones swirl in the air, and I have to close my eyes to stay standing. His smell. Goddamn it.

“I have never—nor would I ever—bed another female,” he hisses at me, like legitimately. It’s part of an overall sneer as he turns, his antennae swiveling away from me like he wishes he could get as far from me as possible. “I had but to lick your blood directly from her skin, and I was brought to my knees with sickness.” He closes his eyes and lets his wings fall. They swirl like fabric behind him. He glares over his shoulder at me, but I refuse to look directly at him. It’s easier if I stare out the window at Abraxas’ planet. I’m not imagining it: it’s getting smaller by the minute. “I was so ill that I could not get back to the stall in time to purchase you.”

“Abraxas—the Aspis male—he saved my life.” I smile tightly as I finally force myself to look back and meet his gaze again. “Looks like you owe him yours, too.” The prince and I, we could be so happy together. The thought doesn’t feel like my own, and I choke on it. No way would I ever have such sappy thoughts about someone I just met. Abraxas … I was starting to have sappy thoughts about him.

I’d made up my mind to stay with him.

“Nothing in this life is free or easy. To get something worthwhile, one must give something up in return.”

I’d be willing to do that, to give up fucking everything. A love like I felt with him, someone who is always trustworthy and honest, who proves themselves day in and day out with actions, that’s rare. It’s a once in a galaxy event, and it’s been stolen from me.

“I will have his corpse brought to your rooms,” the prince breathes, and I can see it written all over his face. He’s in abject shock. He can’t believe I’m standing here defying him like this. He better get used to it if he intends to keep me around.

I step forward and—willingly this time—put my hands on the prince’s shoulders. His gloved hands immediately find my waist, and even through the fabric, I can feel the heat of him. Just as Abraxas said: the blood sings. I can feel my own pumping and pushing at my skin, wanting this man. I can feel him yearning just as desperately in return. I put my lips near his ear, and he sweeps his wings around me. They settle against my back, so soft and warm and comforting. I grit my teeth.

“If you hurt Abraxas, I will never love you.”

It might seem like a weird thing to say, but I know he has to hear it. Because that’s what he wants. I am more than just my blood. He wants me to want him. He’s desperate for it. It’s my only power on this stupid ship.

“You consent to my feeding?” he asks, sliding his gloved hands from my naked waist to my hips. I exhale and close my eyes, pushing back the deep sadness inside of me. I’m sorry, Abraxas. I’m so fucking sorry.

I don’t know what a feeding from him entails exactly, but it’s going to happen whether I want it to or not. He’s starving to death. He doesn’t even have a choice. I close my eyes.

“I consent.”

The prince exhales against the side of my neck, and then he bites me. His teeth sink into my skin, right over the spot where Abraxas last bit me. Pleasure arcs through my body in a shameful, horrifying wave. My knees weaken, and it’s only his strong grip on my hips that keeps me upright. I fall into him by accident, and he tucks me close, one hand against my back, the other around my middle.

He draws back slightly, his breath feathering against the wound, and then he dips his tongue to the bloodied spots on my throat. He doesn’t just lap at the liquid. Oh no. That’d be too easy. His tongue slides into one of the holes. I can feel him inside my skin, in my very veins.

And it feels great.

It feels amazing.

Tears slide down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes shut as tightly as I can, trying and failing to resist succumbing to the heat of him, to the strange intimacy of being both food and sex, to the moan that slips from his throat. It’s entirely raw and so unbelievably personal.

Rurik withdraws his tongue, and I feel every inch of it as it slides from my body and retreats into his mouth. With a sigh, he pulls his wings back and lets go of me entirely, stepping away to study me. I almost fall, but he catches me by the shoulders and sets me in the room’s only chair.

The prince rests his hands on the backrest, an arm on either side of me.

“If only you didn’t look like your entire life was over.” He kisses me on the forehead with those bloodied lips of his, and then stands up. I wrap my arms around myself and turn away, face blazing with heat, body trembling. I’m so turned-on right now, and I hate myself for that.

I don’t want anyone but Abraxas.

Even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t want this guy.

He watches me for some time before picking up the discarded device from earlier. He tucks it onto his head and taps the earpiece.

“Bring the princess’ handmaiden,” he says, and I finally drag my gaze back to him.

Looking into his eyes is like being punched in the heart.

“Do I have free will?” I ask him, but he doesn’t respond. He just blinks so slowly at me that I wonder if he’s ever going to open his eyes. “Then my entire life is over.”

The prince doesn’t respond, taking a red robe from a hook on the wall. He swings it around my shoulders and clasps it for me, arranging the fabric to cover my body. A panel in the wall slides open, and there she is: it’s Avril, the medic. I owe her my life, and I never had the chance to thank her for that.

“Eve!” she shouts, and I’m surprised and pleased that she remembered my name. She stumbles into the room, but Rurik steps between us. Avril comes up short at his glare as several guards crowd into the room behind her, weapons out but not yet pointed at anyone. They don’t have guns, by the way. Oh no. They’re wielding spears.

“Is this the etiquette you were taught?” the prince asks, his voice a terrifying whisper. It doesn’t need to be loud. It’s saturated with authority. “Is that how one of your station should greet the Imperial Princess?”

The Imperial What’s-It-Now? I know it makes a certain bizarre sense. If I’m the prince’s … whatever … then I guess princess is a fitting title. Weird as fuck though. I’m sure I’ll have as much power as princesses had in Earth’s history. Which is to say, none at all.

“My wings should be torn from my back,” Avril breathes, dropping her head. Her red hair hangs loose, one small braid on either side of her face with flowers woven in. Her face glitters with makeup—a dramatic recreation of the natural two-toned pattern on the faces of the … what did Abraxas call them? Vestalis. Right.

Avril wears a ridiculous collar of shimmery red fabric. It’s a good foot or more higher than her head, paired with a cloak that looks heavy enough to buckle the knees. Underneath all of that, she wears a long-sleeved dress with a dramatically low necklace and full skirts. It’s as white as the prince’s wings, with a red furred belt at the waist.

I’m still processing the outfit when the prince steps to the side and Avril bows, dropping to one knee and placing a single finger against her lips.

“Your Imperial Princess, it is my greatest pleasure and infinite privilege to serve you.” Avril remains where she is on the floor as I gape at her.

“What have they done to you?” I whisper. It’s not like I knew the girl well. Hell, I knew her for all of five bloodstained, alien-filled seconds. But she was fierce. She and Connor, they saved my life, threw the lawyer under the bus (or in the slug, so to speak), and defended us with makeshift weapons.

“My wings should be torn from my back,” Avril repeats without looking up.

Erm.

‘Kay.

“This girl will serve as your lady-in-waiting. She is still being trained, but I believe you will benefit from human companionship.” I don’t look at the pompous ass when he speaks. I’m still gaping at Avril. She lifts her head slightly and notices my, uh, lack of proper clothing. I’ve just shifted and the robe has fallen open up to the thigh, revealing everything but the glow between my legs. Luckily nobody can see that without, you know, getting up close and personal.

The prince hisses, and the guards turn in near perfect unison to face the wall. When Avril doesn’t immediately avert her eyes, he steps toward her like he intends to punish her somehow.

“Stop that.” I shove up to my feet, arranging the robe so that I’m covered. “You don’t own my nakedness.”

“Yes, I do.” He says that like it’s the most reasonable statement in the world. Or … the galaxy? Whatever. “Come. I will escort you to our rooms.” He makes another sound, and the guards turn back toward us, stepping aside to leave the doorway clear.

A girl steps into the opening. She looks human, but with exaggerated features. Big, red eyes. Shock-white hair that fans around her dramatically and falls all the way to her calves. She’s delicate and petite with small breasts, narrow hips, and a flouncy white dress with a belt like Avril’s. She’s even got the ugly cloak with the collar on. Red metal rabbit-ear antennae stick up from the crown of her head. Also, she’s barefoot and really, really weird looking.

Something about her bothers me instantly.

“We recovered this Cartian female”—there’s that word again, Cartian—“from the ship fragment. She explained that you had become close recently, and I thought you might appreciate the additional companionship.” The prince looks from her to me, as if he’s expecting a thank you of some sort.

The girl kneels and places a single finger against her lips.

“Your Imperial Majesties, my name is Raina, and it is my pleasure and privilege to serve.” She drops her hand and then lifts her gaze up to mine, the edge of her lip curving up in the slightest hint of a smirk. I swear to God, if this is who I think it is … “For those who are uneducated in binary code and could not make the prior translation, I may also be known to some as Zero-One-Zero-One-Zero-Zero-One-Zero—” She goes through the laborious process of repeating all forty digits.

My eye twitches.

Yep. It’s Zero alright.

The AI chatbot bitch has a body?

“Was she a brain in a vat?” I ask, turning to look at the prince. He seems startled that I’ve actually asked him a question—and in a relatively peaceable tone, too. “Or a computer?”

“Her cerebral system was located in an emergency medical hold onboard the ship, if that is what you are inquiring about.”

I glare at him.

“So she is a person and not a computer?” I clarify as he tries to make eye contact with me. I won’t look at him. When our eyes meet, I feel things. Not my own feelings, mind you, but whatever manufactured garbage he’s forcing on me.

“She is a Cartian female whose cerebral system has been placed into an android.” The prince sighs and steps into the hallway, looking back to see if I’m following. I just stand there. “She will be serving us for the length of our natural lives in exchange for this host body, and will function primarily as your personal bodyguard.”

Fantastic. Not only am I trapped on this ship, but I’m trapped here with Zero. If given the choice between her and Tabbi Kat … I’d fling myself into the darkest recesses of space.

“She’s going to try to kill me,” I tell him matter-of-factly, and he frowns down at her.

“You claimed to be a trusted companion of the Imperial Princess.” The prince stares at Zero, and she rises to her feet. But not like it’s of her own volition—like it’s his volition. Her eyes meet mine, and I see for the very first time how afraid she actually is. She’s looking at me with a silent plea that a rational person would ignore, but that I … Damn it. I thought all along that I was a cold, heartless, apathetic bitch. That doesn’t necessarily appear to be the case. “Shall I have your head removed and dissected down to its most useful parts?”

Holy shit. I have to fix this.

“Wait, wait, wait.” I finally step forward, sweeping past poor Avril who’s still kneeling down on the floor. I guess she’s waiting for a command or something? I have no idea. “Avril,” I hiss, gesturing rapidly with my arm. She scrambles to her feet to join me and we slip out the door and into the hallway.

There’s an entire wall of windows here, a vast galaxy of stars and glittering cosmic dust and distant planets sparkling like gemstones. I almost puke again, slapping a hand over my mouth. I turn to the prince and force my arm back down by my side.

“What I mean to say is, how do you know that she won’t go rogue in that android body of hers?” I stare at the markings on his face so that I don’t have to look at his eyes. He notices, and it pisses him off. I catch a glimpse of his bloodstained lips curling up in a sneer.

“This.” He taps two gloved fingers against Zero’s neck, and I follow the motion, noticing a glowing red lace choker at her throat. It was partially obscured by the cloak before, and I didn’t quite notice it. Looks like a much prettier version of the creepy veins that are all over the ceilings and walls in this room, too. “I have complete control over her at all times. But if you do not like her, I will have her replaced immediately.”

“No!” Maybe I’m being too forceful, but the sound comes out in a near shout. The prince narrows his eyes on me, but doesn’t respond. “She was right. We’re best friends.” I give Zero a look and now it’s my turn to smirk. I’m royalty here, bitch. Even if I don’t want to be. And if I am, you know what? I have the upper hand here. “Zero is sweet and submissive, and she understands that I’m the superior one between us. I don’t think we’ll have any problems.”

Ooooh boy, the look she gives me. I hope like hell the prince knows what he’s talking about or else Zero really is going to kill me in my sleep.

“Good. Anything less than complete submission and deference to the Imperial Princess will be punished severely.” He curls his lip at Zero before he moves past her to stand in front of me. This close, the heat of his body is like a punishment. And his scent? I know I keep harping on it, but it’s like a drug. It makes me forget what’s going on and what I need to be fighting for.

Abraxas. Jane.

He holds out an arm for me to take, and I just stare at it. Should I play nice instead? I’ll admit: that thought did not occur to me until literally just now. Why shouldn’t I schmooze the guy and try to get what I want out of him? He’s desperate for me to like him, and I have no idea why he cares. He could just as easily lock me in a room and have his way with me whenever he pleased.

My body erupts in a cold sweat, and I take his offered arm. Maybe I should try the nice route first?

“Where are we going?” I ask as he starts down the hallway in a confident stride, boots loud against the floors. They’re shiny and white with a crimson runner down the center. Sconces adorn the wall between each window, flickering with what appears to be red flames. A chandelier hangs in the foyer just ahead of us, the space decorated with chaises and chairs, all of which have those special wing notches in the backs. Not … what I was expecting from a spaceship.

“To our rooms,” he repeats, and my throat clenches on that word. Our.

“Before we go, can I see it?” I ask, and it hurts to even get the question out. I’m terrified that he’s going to tell me that he got rid of it. And by ‘it’, I mean the den. “The ship fragment?”

Rurik turns to look at me and this time, I meet his eyes. If he feels even a fraction of what I feel when I stare at him, he’ll be more likely to take pity on me.

“Why?”

That question … it hits like a hammer. It’s full of fury that I don’t understand, that I don’t want to understand. I don’t care what this guy’s motivations are. His actions are what I’m fixed on. His actions and not his … fucking pheromones. I turn away and cover the lower half of my face with a hand.

“Why?” he repeats, putting his hands on my shoulders. Heat hits me in the stomach like a kick, and I jerk away from him, turning and putting my back against the window. I’d choose space over this guy.

“Does it matter to you?” I don’t know why I’m even asking. This is an alien. It’s not a person. It isn’t fucking human, and it’s seriously pissing me off. All of a sudden, I remember: I don’t belong here. I want to go home. I just can’t decide if by home, I mean Abraxas or Earth. No, screw that. I know what I mean. I want my damn mate back. “Let me see it.”

Rurik shakes himself out, wings ruffling with agitation. He storms past me and I follow. At the end of the hall, there’s a large glass wall blocking off the rest of the space. On the other side of the glass, things float. Like, there’s no gravity and they float. I see chairs and side tables and a rug. Um.

“What is … why is that …?” I just stop talking as the prince turns to look at it like it’s nothing, like he sees this shit everyday. Like meaty walls and arteries on the ceiling don’t mean anything to him either. That red muscle tissue, those blue veins, it’s like the ship is alive.

“Breach in the hull,” he says, turning toward another door. He pauses there and looks over his shoulder. “I think it might’ve been a comet; I do hope we’re okay in here.” He leaves me there, the sound of his boots pounding across the floor.

I feel so dizzy right then, like I might not be able to stay standing. I’m in space. There’s no ground. One crack in one piece of glass and we’re in trouble. I don’t want to die in space. Something about that frightens me in a way I can’t explain. I was nervous enough about it when I was on Abraxas’ planet. But now? Where will my spirit go if I’m not on Earth?

The ground comes up quickly, and I fall—not fast enough for the prince. He catches me and then immediately puts me back on my feet. I sway and he snags me by the elbows. The concern in his expression is very real, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

“You met me five seconds ago.” I need to stop doing that, truncating everything that happens to me down to a few seconds. That’s my version of compartmentalizing my feelings. I grab onto his tunic and he releases me, stepping back and seeming surprised when I follow. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?” he asks, and I fucking swear that we’ve known each other in another life.

“Keep me here. You can do better than that. I am not your prisoner.” I squeeze my lips together, noticing the way his eyes track my mouth. He doesn’t look at me like he’s never seen a human. He looks at me like I’m his perfect version of attractive, like the most beautiful creature ever imagined.

I hate all the things that I’m thinking.

The only thing that I want is to see Abraxas again. I don’t even care what I have to do. Anything.

“No, you are not a prisoner,” he agrees, reaching up to put his hands on my wrists. “You are the Imperial Princess. I will give whatever I have to get you what you want.”

“Except for the only thing that matters?” I clarify, offering a shocked laugh. “I want to see Abraxas.”

There’s that rage again, his horns—or antennae, whatever—they swivel backwards, and he bares his teeth.

“Except for that.” He releases me and I hold up my hands to either side.

“Appreciate you proving my point.” I walk around him and into the room where the den is hanging, suspended from the ceiling by chains. All of a few hours ago, that was my home. I only lived there for a few weeks, but it doesn’t matter. I liked it. I felt safe there. Happy.

There’s a square-shaped object near the base of the den that looks like a platform. When I step on it, it lifts me right up to the doorway. I look down to see that I’m nearly thirty feet in the air. Between the suspension and the chunk of dirt and grass hanging from the bottom, I’m much higher up than I was when the ship was planted firmly in the ground.

Broken vines litter the floor as I stand up and step aside, looking over at Zero’s blank screen. I turn back and move into the ship. When the prince joins me, I ignore him.

The bathroom is still there, but there’s no water in the tub now. My mate’s musky smell clings stubbornly to the space, and I find myself disturbed that I’m actually feeling nostalgic for the toilet. I visit the nest last, walking in and then slumping down in the center of the room.

I just sit there in a ridiculous ruby-red robe. It drags on the ground when I walk. But you know what? It doesn’t matter, because when I walk here, it trails across a shiny white floor in a sterile hellhole. I’m the sort of person that really likes old houses—especially castles—and appreciates trees more than people. There are no trees here. And if there are, it still won’t be the same. I can’t crack a window to feel the breeze. There is no breeze.

“It will not be so bad,” the prince encourages, coming in to kneel beside me. He puts an elbow on his knee, like he’s a person. Only, his eyes are massive and dark, and his skin is snow-white and ebon-black. His hair is textured and white, flowing over his shoulders and down his back like the hood of a fur cloak. He flattens his antennae back against the sides of his head. “You will soon forget the nightmare you endured.”

I ignore him, standing up and taking the nicest, softest fur with me. Many of the furs in the new bed were white or light colored and very, very soft. They weren’t there when I first came to stay, and there’s no way that Abraxas had the time to kill all those animals, skin them, and treat their hides while I was there. Which means that he was preparing and keeping them in advance for his future mate. They were given to me.

Now I’m here, and everything is ruined.

I search around and find Jane’s shirt near the pile where I left it. With those two things clutched in my arms, I head back to the weird platform thing outside. Rurik trails behind me, brimming with frustration. I say nothing because the sooner I get away from him, the better.

“Please don’t scrap this ship,” I plead, hating how quiet and soft my voice comes out. He stares back at me, but all of that false humanity in him is gone. He’s as distant and unreachable as the stars outside the all-too numerous windows.

“If you behave,” is how he responds.

I grit my teeth.

I have never wanted to punch someone as much as I want to punch this guy. And have you met Tabbi Kat or Zero? For me to want to punch Rurik more than I want to punch them, he must be the lowest, most vile creature in the whole of the … what’s it called? The Noctuida? I’m still not sure what that means exactly, but whatever it is, this prince is the absolute worst.

“I fucking hate you,” I growl at him, and he slow-blinks back at me. Says nothing. Pompously stands there and picks at the fingers of his gloves. As soon as I get into the hallway, I wait for him to walk ahead and stay behind to chat with the only other human being on this stupid spaceship.

“Are you okay?” Avril asks me, noticing the items in my arms. “Seriously, what’s going on, Eve?”

“I fell in love,” I whisper as we walk, and she gapes at me. Actually, she stops walking and it takes several seconds before she’s able to catch up. Zero sulks behind us, looking for all the world like something strange and demonic as she frowns and stares at the floor. Her red android eyes flash.

Christ, that’s scary.

I turn sharply away from her and decide I won’t pick on her much after all. It was more fun when she was inside a screen and couldn’t move.

“You … what?” Avril asks, waiting for an explanation. But then she holds up both hands and shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not my business, and I shouldn’t have asked.” She drops her arms and peers at me with sapphire eyes. She’s … seriously fucking pretty. If only I weren’t into men. Or alien dragon peen. For shame. “You understand that you’re supposed to marry this guy?”

I sort of figured that bit out after the frequent use of ‘princess’. The kidnapping and the insta-love were some pretty good clues as well. Insta-love? What the fuck? How? I can’t for the life of me understand it. I am not that sort of person. I can barely commit to second dates.

Which is how you ended up perma-mated to an alien dragon in two weeks time? Hmm.

We reach a doorway that opens automatically, the panel sliding into the wall to reveal a lavishly appointed foyer with five other rooms coming off of it. The one at the end has its doors wide open. I see a beautiful bed and an entire wall of glass. No seams. Just a big, unbroken expanse of space.

My vision blurs, and I blink frantically to clear my head. I don’t know what this is—astrophobia maybe, fear of stars and space—but it’s disorienting and disturbing. I hate it.

Rurik walks right to the double doors of the bedroom, taps a screen beside them, and they swish shut. He turns around to face us with an expectant air about his imperial personhood. Ugh.

I enter the foyer tentatively, Avril on my left, Zero trailing after. The door slides shut behind her, leaving the four of us alone. One big positive: this area doesn’t have any of the gross red and blue organic matter that infests the walls and ceilings on the rest of the ship.

“Our rooms are in the uppermost level of this vessel—that is, The Korol,” Rurik explains, and I immediately imagine some sort of tower sticking up off the top. What if it gets scraped against something? We’d all be goners. I swallow back the fear, clutching the fur and the shirt. I’m going through a similar period of denial the way I did when I realized for certain that my time catering parties and playing golf with my dad were gone.

Permanently.

Abraxas, the den, all of that, it’s over.

“You may select a room for yourself for now. After the wedding, we will sleep in the same room.” The prince stands there with his hands clasped together in front of him, looking for all the world like somebody who has never been told no in his entire life.

I decide to save the argument for later.

I very quickly move to the door closest to me and peer in. Looks normal enough. It’s a huge room with a separate living area, bright lights, and lots of orange, yellow, and pink in the decor. I’ll take it. I basically sprint in there, waiting for Avril and Zero to follow. The door slides shut with an inorganic sigh, and I lean against it.

“I can’t be anywhere near that moth,” I whisper, pushing up to a standing position and beginning a search of the room. The other two girls trail behind me, and I realize how much I’ve loved being in the woods alone all this time. I needed some ‘me’ space for sure. I turn around suddenly and they both come to a stop. “Do you smell it when you’re around him?” I ask, and they both just stare at me. “You know, that weird cardamom and honey stuff. It’s driving me nuts.”

“While my particular model has been equipped with scent receptors, and while I’m sure that my sense of smell is infinitely better than yours, I am not enamored with His Majesty’s pheromones the way you are.” Zero smiles sweetly at me, and then winks. “The Aspis male would be displeased with your behavior, would he not?” Woooow. She is way more fucking annoying like this.

I turn to Avril. She seems weirdly empathetic, not sympathetic. Like, she doesn’t feel sorry for me, she simply understands how I feel. I want to slap her, too.

“Eve, neither of us like his smell. Only you do. You are his mate.”

I shake my head and back up, bumping into a low bookshelf. It sits in front of another window wall that I’m doing my best to pretend isn’t there. I’m leaning against it. I stumble forward in my haste to get away from it.

“I’m not his anything. He’s doing”—I wave my hand around randomly—“something to my brain and making me want him sexually. It’s fucked-up.”

“It’s pheromones,” Avril says, and I glare at her. “What?” She moves over to a table and picks up a bottle of wine, shaking it enticingly in my direction. I don’t trust it. I’d accepted that I’d never have wine again. Oh my God, it’s a red. I bite my lip. “It’s real wine. He bought it at the black market for you—it’s from Earth.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say, but I can’t resist coming over to the table to stare at it. “How would he know to buy wine?”

“He asked me,” Avril explains, popping the cork and pouring us both a glass. She doesn’t offer Zero one, and my estimation of her improves considerably from already high levels. This bitch removed metal scrap from my leg and then stitched up a bleeding artery. How cool is that? “Because he’s your mate. Vestalis have unique chemical and biological properties. Each of them has an infinitesimal chance of finding his mate—as in, another person who agrees with those properties—and when he does, their chemistry is perfectly compatible. He smells amazing to you because you’re his mate. And vice versa.” She raises her glass. “His dick will change shape to fit perfectly inside of you. How’s that for commitment?”

I sit down hard in the chair opposite her.

Zero takes another seat at the large, oval table and leans in, putting her elbows on the surface.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had sex. Thankfully this body is fully functional.” She sighs happily and puts a hand up to the side of her face. Those cherubic cheeks, that tiny pink rosebud mouth, the oversized eyes and long lashes … what a farce. Zero—or Raina, I guess? I prefer Zero—is a deviant. “As soon as we dock at the World Station, I’m going to work my way through as many males as I can. Hopefully there’ll be plenty of Cartian males around. My people are renowned throughout the Noctuida as—”

I cut her off, leaning in toward Avril conspiratorially.

“What have you been doing for the last few weeks?” I ask, and she gives me a look.

“Girl, you know that in Earth terms, we’ve been out here for a month, right?” Her face softens with true sympathy at the look on my face. “Jungryuk—the planet you were on—its days are longer than ours, and its nights are much longer than ours.”

Somehow, because of Abraxas, I never even noticed.

My heart aches so fiercely that I have no choice but to bypass my wineglass and go straight for the bottle. I chug it down and ohmyfuckingholyfuckthat’samazing. It’s practically orgasmic. And I say practically because, well, once you’ve orgasmed on an alien dragon’s dicks, nothing else compares.

“Wow. That is … some cheap supermarket crap, but it tastes like heaven on the tongue. Can’t lie.” I look at the bottle’s label. It’s a generic cabernet sauvignon.

“I don’t mean to overwhelm you,” Avril begins, reaching up to unhook the clasp of her cloak with a relieved sigh. The heavy garment is so stiff that it doesn’t even fall to the floor. It just stands there behind her with its ugly collar and strange, shimmery fabric. She reaches back absently and shoves it away, like she’s been here, done this before. “But as your lady-in-waiting, it’s my duty to educate you. I’d ease into it, but we don’t have a ton of time here.”

I go to take another drink of the wine when something occurs to me.

“Seeded.” Abraxas’ toothsome rumble sounds in my head and I set the bottle down. Again, I’m still pretty sure that I’m right, that I’m not pregnant, but … Apparently, I wouldn’t be totally upset to have an alien dragon baby. It’d be too early to tell now, and certainly it’d be fine to have some wine, but I’ll need to be careful. I have a feeling that if the prince finds out about this, he might try to make a choice for me.

I set the bottle aside.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, looking around the room. Other than the glass wall of stars that’s at my back, the room is comfortable and well-appointed. The bed is truly suited for a princess, this pristine affair of pale pink and white linens, mountains of pillows, a frilly canopy. I want my musky nest back.

I keep Abraxas’ fur and Jane’s Ninja Turtle shirt tucked close.

“The Vestalis—that is, these moth people—they have one-hundred-and-three imperial princes.” I just stare at her. I feel suddenly sorry for Rurik’s mother. Is she a moth, too? I’m starting to get the idea that maybe these moth guys aren’t particular in whom or what they breed with. Anybody that matches their stupid pheromones. “In order to inherit the throne, a prince must find his mate.”

I sit and stare.

I’m being baby-stepped into … something here.

“The only prince who has found his mate … is your prince.”

“He’s not my prince,” I say, but it feels like he is. It feels like everything in my life has been orchestrated to get me to this single place in time and space.

And I can’t stand it.

Where is my sense of choice? My free will? It is not possible to love someone at first sight. Lust at first sight, sure. But love? Love is built on trust and experience and action. This is a sham, and I feel sick to my stomach about it. Maybe the prince isn’t doing it on purpose, but he is doing it. He’s making me want him to the point that I don’t care about anything else. That is fucking terrifying, and it’s not okay.

I want to make my own decisions.

“Within the next couple of days, there’s going to be a royal wedding …” Avril cringes, like she knows exactly what my reaction is going to be.

I stand up suddenly, knocking over my chair and ignoring Zero’s frustrating smirk.

“Is there a way to communicate with Earth?” I ask, pausing near the seating area. Again, the room looks normal enough with the exception of those clever wing notches in the backs of the chairs and couches. Either the Vestalis live and relax similarly to humans … or this entire thing is orchestrated. It feels orchestrated, just like those all-too human expressions on the prince’s face.

“Nope.” I hear the wine bottle glugging as Avril gives into temptation. “First thing I asked. It’s not that they don’t have the technology to communicate with Earth, it’s that they won’t. I guess they treat Earth as like, a protected habitat full of an endangered species.”

I whirl around to stare at her, trying not to like the soft, supple fabric of the robe and the faint hint of cinnamon sweetness clinging to it.

“Endangered species? Aren’t there like eight billion of us?” I’m genuinely confused. I took my brother to a convention in Los Angeles last year, and the convention center was so packed that I couldn’t even walk. Tell me how humans are an endangered species. I’ll wait.

“Yeah, well, since we’re only from one planet, we’re considered endangered. Also, since we’re so primitive, we’re like … leopards or something. Asking to send communications to Earth is like asking to send a text message to an animal in a reserve.”

Lovely.

I move over to the bed, spreading my fur and Jane’s shirt both out on the surface of it. Those two items are the only things in this room that look real. Everything else feels … manufactured.

Exhaustion hits me like an asteroid, and I crawl onto the mattress, curling into a ball and staring wide-eyed at the swirl of cosmic stardust outside my window. This is not a rags-to-riches princess dream with fluffy beds and pretty dresses and pompous princes, it’s a nightmare.

I miss Abraxas so much that I honestly might throw up.

It’s not because I haven’t seen him—it’s only been a few hours … I think—but the fact that I’m pretty damn sure I’ll never see him again. I take a pillow, wrap the fur around it, and hug it close. My eyes squeeze shut, and I sort of want to kick Avril when she comes over and covers me with a blanket.

“It’s all going to be okay. You’ll see,” she tells me, sitting beside me on the bed. “The Vestalis are like humans in a way: some are bad, some are good, some are great. Rurik, he’s one of the great ones.” She gives my hand a little pat, and then stands back up.

I should tell her that I don’t need to be tucked in and petted like a little princess, but that lonely feeling that hit me in the woods? It’s infinitely worse here.

“I’ll be sleeping just over there.” Presumably she points, but I don’t open my eyes. “The android chick, she’ll be guarding us.”

I give a thumbs-up, but that’s it. I don’t have the energy to offer anything more.

Avril’s footsteps move away, and I crack a lid. Somewhere, she presses a button and huge curtains slide across the glass wall, cutting off that disturbing view of the stars. I breathe a little easier once the lights dim and everything is dark.

When I hear a door open and close, and Zero’s footsteps sound on the opposite side of the room, I lift my hand up and put my palm against the wall.

I can still smell him. I can feel him.

And I know he’s pressing his palm to the wall on the other side.

I yank my hand back, hug the fur-covered pillow more tightly, and force myself into a fitful sleep.