Chapter 12

This is what it feels like to die.

I remember clearly now, the sharpness of the female Aspis’ teeth, the convulsion of her throat, the wetness of her stomach. Bleeding everywhere. Burning up. When that happened, I thought of my mom and sisters.

This time, I think about Abraxas, how he showed me what it felt like to be free, all of the things that I learned about choice and integrity. I think about Rurik and his patience and … the choice he gave me, too. Because he could’ve forced me to fall for him whenever he wanted; I would not have been able to resist. He didn’t, and he let me choose.

Jane’s laughing face fills my vision next, and I wonder if she isn’t going to end up with this Captain Kidd guy. I wonder how he and Officer Hyt know each other. They seemed to have pretty strong bromance vibes for the three seconds that I saw them together. What did Hyt call his friend again? Oh, that’s right: the DTF guy. I should’ve mentioned that to his face.

Officer Hyt.

I don’t know why I think about him. He’s a stranger that I’ve spent a grand total of like, two hours with. My mind conjures up the image of his naked body, his cock that I had in my fucking hand—that I had between my folds—his sharp grin and his sexy cowboy hat.

All of this to distract me from what’s really happening.

The star-jump.

I thought I was screaming when the sensation of being ripped in half started. My soul is being torn out of me. Who wouldn’t scream? But I realize absently that I’m not making any sound at all. I don’t have access to my body, so I’m trapped inside my head.

This is definitely what dying feels like.

I keep waiting for it to end, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on and on.

And then I’m snapped right back into my body with Rurik between my legs.

I choke on a gasping sob as his hands cradle my face, and he kisses me all over. Kisses my tears off as I pant. Kisses my cheeks. Kisses my forehead. Kisses my neck.

“What …” Nothing else comes out.

The ship surges back to life around us, ambient noises returning, lights flickering on.

“It is why our people refer to it only in a reverent whisper, my princess.” Rurik presses his lips to my forehead and holds himself there, just breathing. “Do you now agree that perhaps the term ‘star-jump’ is a bloody stupid way to refer to the sensation of true death?”

“I felt like I was about ten seconds out from being reborn,” I mumble, and then I shut my thoughts down because I don’t want to think about it anymore. It’s over. I’m here. I feel rubbery and sluggish and disoriented, but I’m here. “Maybe I need some coremata to relax me?” I tease.

He doesn’t take it as a tease.

Rurik sits up and uses the slits in his jacket to take it right off. The bright red coremata unfurl quickly, and he wafts his wings, stirring his pheromones into the room. I pull in a deep breath, and his scent settles in my lungs, relaxing me.

I melt into the bed.

“I want you to fuck me,” I whisper as he takes my mouth, kissing me and smearing hot, sticky pheromones over my tongue.

“If only.” Rurik presses his forehead to mine and then sits back up, taking his warmth away from me. “My mother will be waiting to see us in her drawing room.”

“The millipede has a drawing room?” I blurt before I can think better of it. I just insulted my new husband’s mother. Not a great way to start off our marriage. Doesn’t seem to bother Rurik. He’s known how afraid I am of his mother since the first moment he introduced us. “Didn’t we just see her?”

“She will want to send us off on our honeymoon properly. Since my father cannot—” He stops talking, and we stare at each other.

“No.” I feel nauseous. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to accept it.

“I have to be king, my princess, or you will be in some trouble.” Rurik frowns, still straddling me, his knees digging into the mattress, his cock tight against the inside of his breeches. I see now why he ties it down. It’s taken up all the available extra space in his pant leg. “My father has already marked your planet as our next refueling station.”

“Excuse me?” I choke, and Rurik simply shakes his head gently, as if he knows I’m going to panic about this. Why he waited until just after the star-jump to tell me, I don’t know. I’m still not fully back to myself.

“Because you are my mate, and because we are the first mated amongst my brothers, that means you are the Imperial Princess. The Imperial Princess cannot be both royalty and an endangered, protected species at the same time.”

“What do you mean by that?” The words scrape past my throat. I’m getting it. I understand. I just … don’t want to.

“Earth is under my father’s protection only for so long as it will take us to arrive there. Then, he will use our imminent ascension to the throne as an excuse to consume your planet. Its energy will fuel our reign for the entirety of our natural lifespans.” Rurik’s coremata curl back into him, and the tightness of his cock diminishes. He’s frowning now, staring at me in apology. “He thinks I will not have the courage to refuel after I take over, that I will allow my softheartedness to kill the entirety of my people.”

Neither of us remarks that maybe it’d be better if that happened. Rurik knows as well as I do that … the Vestalis are parasitic. Not because of their mate bonds. But because they have no planet, they travel in a ship as large as a planet, and use its capabilities to intimidate and control others.

He’s right: he has to be king.

Tears hit me hard as I reach up to snatch at his arms. He sits there stoically as I claw up his skin, dragging my nails down his pale flesh.

“What are we going to do?” I whisper, still not wanting to put words to it. Rurik leans down again and presses another kiss to my forehead.

“I have to be king,” he repeats, lips on my skin. “The act of ascending will trap me in that throne room.” He pauses, and a sob escapes me as I clutch him against me. “It is a miserable, horrible existence.” I’m holding him tight enough to hurt now, but he doesn’t stop me or try to pull away. “Why do you think my parents are so desperate to be rid of it?” He laughs dryly at the truth of it. “I will not condemn you to that, my princess.” He draws back then and looks pleadingly at me. “You will explore the stars,” he adds, but I shove him back from me and crawl out from underneath him, wearing a red-stained white dress and glaring daggers.

Rurik remains on the bed.

“Stop that,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. Is this like the comet thing you teased me about? The room with no gravity?”

He simply stares.

“You will have your great love”—his voice breaks on that one—“and you will only have to come and feed me. I will protect you with the power of the Imperial Court and the full force of the Noctuida. I will dedicate my life to seeing that you are kept happy and safe.”

“Shut up.” I’m tempted to put my hands over my ears so I don’t have to hear this crap.

Rurik looks away from me, out the window and toward a beautiful blue and green and brown planet that looks oddly similar to earth. But it’s not. The shapes of the continents are all wrong.

“You will only have to come to the throne room to feed me.” He stands up from the bed and grabs his jacket, slipping it back on. I stay away from him, away from his pheromones and his bullshit.

“I’m not letting you do this,” I tell him. I’m not. We’re mates now. I won’t allow for this shit. “This is crap, Rurik. You know it. I know it. Come on, guy, do better.”

He smiles softly at that, but he doesn’t look at me as he buttons himself up.

“How am I to save your planet if I cannot choose another for this hungry ship to eat? Much less send you to Earth to visit.” He looks up, still smiling. It’s a sad fucking smile. “How am I to ensure that you can be with your Aspis mate if any other ruler would see you killed for the penalty of adultery? How am I to clear Jungryuk of slavers and poachers? How am I to save the humans that are suffering throughout the Noctuida?” He waits for me to reply.

I glare at him.

“I will protect you.” My voice is hard. Flat. “There’s a way out of this, I’ll bet.”

Rurik looks toward our bedroom door with a sigh.

“All I ask is that you come to me and tell me of the adventures you have.” He laughs gently, sadly. “The people you have met, and the things you have done.”

Rurik strides to the door and then through it as it opens.

I turn away from him and head into the bathroom to clean myself up. Vestalis perversion … I mean Vestalis propriety might dictate that I wear a cum-stained dress, but I can wash my body, can’t I?

I start the water in my always-hot shower with a view of the approaching planet. I scrub my skin with the ferocity of desperate determination.

Last night, when I promised Rurik that I would save him?

I meant it.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” I mumble when I find the prince waiting in the foyer. He looks up at me with a sly half-smile that doesn’t reflect in his eyes. He’s devastated about his soon-to-be fate—trapped in one room for the rest of his life, alone—but he won’t let on again.

I got what I’m going to get out of him, and that’s it.

We really need to get to know each other better. And quick. I have a feeling our lives depend on our ability to fall deeply, madly in love. Don’t know why. It’s just what it feels like. Don’t the Vestalis worship at the altar of romance? What better way to deal with this than to live up to their ideal?

“It’s a shame you would deny me conversation for my final few days outside of this ship.”

I purse my lips tight. Whatever it takes. Surely, I didn’t come all the way out here, into the middle of a vast and unknown universe, to lose my anchor. Rurik is my anchor. My soul stretched as far as it had to in order to find him.

“Please tell me that I’m not in a coma and imagining you.” I exhale as he steps over to me, feelers brushing over my hair. I reach up on either side and snatch them like horns, grabbing complete control over his head. He just looks at me. “If I am, can I imagine you not taking the throne?”

His smile is a ghost.

“If you were in a coma, we would not know because you made the rare and very odd choice of mating with an Aspis. It scrambles the tech.”

I think it’s meant to be a joke. If it’s not then I’m laughing my ass off for nothing. I release his antennae and slap him in the shoulder. He blinks down at the contact in confusion before looking up at me.

“Why strike me?” he inquires, genuinely curious.

“Aren’t your biological processes supposed to teach you that I’m fucking around?” I retort, crossing my arms and refusing to let him pull me in. I’m still upset. Truthfully? I want to roll up in a ball on the carpet and die, but I’m much, much more stubborn than that.

I will never stop trying to prevent this from happening. If it happens, I will never stop trying to undo it. But I can’t let Rurik suffer all the while. We have to live, too. We have to keep moving.

“Aren’t your biological processes supposed to warn you away from a beast monster with a venomous tail?” He’s definitely teasing me now, stepping close and causing me to back up and bump against the wall. He puts a hand beside my head. “You should’ve come to me in the tent and saved us both the trouble of one another’s company. Abraxas and myself, I mean.”

“You’ll never be able to hold a conversation with him.” I’m just being honest. “He’s too blunt, and you’re too … you … so it won’t work. He thought you were a pompous weirdo from moment one. He warned me to stay away from you.” I laugh at the recent memory. It’s been, like, a week since then. Hah. It feels like an entire century. “Said you were parasitic. A world-eater.”

Rurik curls his lip at me, ever the pretty princeling.

“I would have him loaded into a transport and jetted into the boiling oceans of a distant moon.”

I grin.

“He says he’d enjoy eating you, likewise,” I put my hands on the fur adorning either of Rurik’s shoulders, and I press my mouth into his, tasting him. He exhales against me as I draw back, sending my heart racing.

“If they interrupt us now, I will have them all sent to a distant, fading sun and leave them there to experience its inevitable collapse.”

They. He means Zero, Avril, and Connor for sure.

We start to kiss again, my hands digging into his hair. Or … it’s like fur, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s soft and ghost-scare-white, and it looks good on him. With the horns and the eyes and the teeth, he has a decidedly demonic charm. The coremata though … those are moth-y.

“Moths have choremata,” I whisper, and he glowers at me, the fangs on the left side of his mouth exposed in disgust.

“Moths … I believe the Vestalis are more closely related to human beings than any sort of Earthen moth.”

“That’s not possible.” I shove at him, but he grabs me by the wrists, giving me a harsh look.

“All life-forms in the Noctuida originated from a single place. We are related, and so it is of little surprise—”

My bedroom door opens and there’s Avril with dark circles under her eyes, tearstains, the shakes. She looks absurdly pallid, unsteady, nauseous.

“We will be docking soon, Your Imperial Majesties. The queen would … like to see you before then.” Avril turns and just barely catches herself on the edge of the doorjamb. Zero looks perfectly fine when she walks past Avril, heading straight for a full pile of macarons.

“Do you have those made in my name?” I ask, grinning at Avril’s disheveled state. I’m under the impression that having a mate (or being a cyborg) keeps the effects of the star-jump mild. Not having one … sucks. “I mean, do you tell the kitchens here that the princess is ordering macarons? I barely like them.”

“I have to have a reason to get up in the morning,” Avril snaps, and my bedroom door closes behind her.

Ouch. Maybe I need to lay off with the teasing? The poor girl is going through some shit, and she did save my life. I feel a bit guilty.

Rurik is rubbing at his face, at the dark triangle between his eyes.

“One might fall under the false impression that she was the royal mate.” He stands up straight and looks me over, his face softening again as he takes in the stains on the dress. “I have always found this ritual vulgar and absurd and so terribly old-fashioned.”

“Yeah, um, let’s abolish it when …” I don’t finish that sentence, but he smiles at me anyway.

“Come. This will be unpleasant. Let us get it done with as quickly as possible.” Rurik takes me into the hallway, turning us right and past wall after wall after wall of ugly meat growths. When Rurik runs the ship, will all of this turn to blood lace? An entire spaceship decorated with his beautiful designs. Knowing him, he’d amp it up over time. Build canopied beds out of lace. Fashion gowns. Fashion entire houses built of lace for people to live in.

We’re thinking in sync right now, and it’s weird as fuck.

I look down to see that his nail has pricked my arm, that a drop of blood swells from me and beads against his skin. It’s very quickly absorbed. I shiver, but I don’t stop walking.

The queen’s drawing room—what the hell is a drawing room?—isn’t a long way from our suite. Getting there—with Zero trailing absently behind us—takes less than five minutes.

The room itself is big and wide with an arched doorway paneled in wood. It’s an odd demarcation, between the science fiction hallways and the cozy personal spaces. Is this truly Vestalis style? It looks similar to something I might be able to see back home on a historic house tour. With windows filled by views of stars and planets. And a ship that jumps space and time to make you feel like you’re dying. Maybe it actually kills you? Maybe I died and came back to life?

“How did you enjoy …” The queen does not finish her question, ending in a long and drawn out hiss. Her version of a reverent whisper. “I find it enlightening each time.”

I just stand there, staring.

The room looks Victorian-ish. There are gold wall sconces with red flames, and a fireplace to go along with them. There are paintings on the wall of … things. Creatures. Female creatures. Queens. I will be the only human being in a long, long line of monstrous aliens.

The queen herself looks tame in comparison to some of them.

She coils in a glass tank in the center of the room, watching us as we approach. The tank is filled with dark, moist soil. O…kay.

“Are you confused, dear human?” she asks me mockingly, watching as I stand there on her nice carpet and try not to panic at the sight of my mother-in-law and her billions of legs and her thousand-yard stare.

Rurik moves to step in front of me, but I put out a hand to stop him.

I stare right back.

“Why would I be confused?” I challenge. I’m the princess. We’re about to ascend. His parents want us to ascend and suffer in their place. I will be as rude as I want to be. I wish suddenly that I’d changed my dress and refused to participate in the Day of Wearing. Fuck them and their traditions. “The decor in this ship has changed to suit my tastes.”

I mean, they’re not my tastes, but it’s human-themed.

It’s all human-themed.

I swallow hard.

Said it before, and I’ll say it again.

I love Rurik; he’s my mate; he’s my other half.

The Vestalis? They’re creepy. They are so goddamn fucking creepy.

I want to leave this ship so badly that my entire body breaks out in chills. I itch to get off. I’d plead and shamelessly beg Rurik if we weren’t already scheduled to do so. Fucking hell.

The queen slithers out of her tank, scattering dirt across the floor, and then she heads over to visit her son. She runs her mandibles over his hair, and I reach out to slap her.

I slap her.

I slap an intergalactic millipede queen with the power to nuke my home planet.

What the hell is wrong with me?!

There’s never been a character in any of Jane’s novels as stupid as I am. Not once.

“Don’t you put your scent on my mate,” I growl at her. I’d blame the weird pheromones between me and Rurik for my behavior, but … it’s not. This is just me. I’m a whole lot of dumb sometimes. I prefer to call it bravado and pluckiness.

The queen hisses and rears at me, but Rurik steps between us. Blood lace flows from the floor and tethers her, pulling her back and away from us before it melts onto the ground and is absorbed by the ship. Eww. Gross. This place is insane!

Something about mating with Rurik made me literally forget there for a second.

The queen—if she has a name, I don’t care to know it—settles on the length of a chaise lounge, her monstrous hulking form spilling off the sides in a wave of pearlescent shimmer and legs. Too many legs. I just cannot get over that bit.

“We have arrived at Dome,” she says proudly, fondly. “I remember when your father and I spent our last days off the ship together.” She turns her round head in the direction of the window as we drift down toward the planet’s atmosphere.

The ship is so large that it leaves a shadow on the planet far before we ever get close to landing.

“We will surely enjoy our time together,” Rurik says woodenly, holding back frustration. He doesn’t like the way his mother is picking at me, taunting me. Us. She’s taunting us. “But I do not know why you have to needle us. We are both aware of our fate. Why is this being brought up again and again? I am of the mind to take control of The Korol early.” He smiles faintly. “The people will support me.”

“By all means, we shall see about a rapid ascension.” The queen relaxes into her seat as the ship drifts lower and lower. Cities reveal themselves. Towns. Trees. We come to a gentle stop, despite how rapidly we must’ve been falling.

I didn’t even notice. There was no jostling. No jerky movements. No vertigo.

The entire ship hisses now, settling, and then all the windows open. Every single one in the room and elsewhere. I can hear it. Can feel the breeze.

A breeze.

My skin aches and tugs, and I just need to get off of this ship.

“If you don’t mind, mother.” Rurik affects a dramatic bow, but he doesn’t seem to care that I don’t offer the same. His mother’s strange laughter follows us out of the room and into the hallway.

I put a hand up to my chest, right over the frantic jump of my heart. The ship … adapts to the king’s mate. It’s adapting to me. The most human parts of all this could very well be a lie.

“Where did you live before moving to the royal suites with me?” I turn to Rurik, but he’s already looking at me, the faintest hint of a smile on his mouth.

“I am sorry. I am having trouble concentrating on your question. Did you truly slap the Imperial Queen?”

My cheeks heat, but I’m not sorry about it. Wish I could’ve done worse.

“She was putting her pheromones on you, marking you. Was I supposed to just stand there and take that?” It’s a rhetorical question. Of course I wasn’t going to take that shit. I give my new husband a look, like the answer should be obvious. “As you said: all I need do is exist, and you’ll take care of the raw power and brute strength bits.”

Rurik’s smile isn’t faint anymore. He steps forward and puts his hands on either side of my neck, leaning down to kiss me again. His palm brushes over the bite he left earlier, and gets me squirming.

A throat clears from behind me, and I glance over to see that Avril and Connor have joined Zero at our backs. More than that … there are like hundreds of Vestalis filling the halls, each of them with a mate at his side.

“It is the Day of Wearing; they will want to see us leave the ship together,” Rurik explains absently as I frown and pretend like I totally noticed the giant crowd that formed during our few minute conversation with the queen.

I look down at the beautiful white skirt of the dress, marred with red. What a weird fucking tradition. But oh, when on a planet-destroying ship, do as the planet-destroying aliens do. The low-cut back of the dress is accentuated by the breeze. I can feel cool, moist air on my bare skin, teasing the lacy moth wings etched into my flesh.

“Is this blood lace?” I whisper quietly, taking Rurik’s arm again so that he can show me to the exit. I know that’s where we’re going because there’s no way he could be my soulmate and not know how desperately I need to get off this ship. “On my back, I mean.”

“It is,” he replies easily, looking down at me. “But I will not use it to monitor you unless there is a pressing need. You will always be entitled to your privacy. I will ensure that you have privacy when you need it.” He sounds mad now, mouth flat, but he walks like he owns the Noctuida. If you really think about it, he sort of does.

Or … he will soon.

And he’ll pay a hefty, hefty price for it.

My own expression tightens.

No wonder he was so devastated to have found me when he did. If only we were the second couple out of all his brothers to find each other. Why does my mate have to spend the next however many years attached to a sentient spaceship?

“Now, where did you live before you moved to the royal suites?” I repeat. I’m trying to figure out exactly how much The Korol has changed since I was dragged onto it. Like, was the whole place decorated to please the creepy space millipede queen?

“I was rarely on the ship,” Rurik offers softly, looking down at me with such deep empathy in his eyes that I want to scream. He’s truly resigned himself to this fate, hasn’t he? It’s why he didn’t make such a big deal of my actions on the World Station. He doesn’t want to burden me by turning me into his mother. And I don’t mean a space millipede, I mean a captive of that throne room. “Once I hit maturity, I traveled extensively.”

“Looking for me?” I ask with a teasing smile that doesn’t land. We’re both thinking about this ship and that throne and being trapped here for—how many years did he say that his parents had ruled? Sixty? Oh God, it was sixty. And … and even if … if we tried to ride it out …

I realize that any children we might have would be subjected to the same fate. Well, one of them anyway. I couldn’t do that to my kid, raise them knowing that a hellish existence awaited them in adulthood. Damn.

“Purposely not looking for you,” Rurik admits as the moth drones sweep down the hallway toward us. Great. An entourage for our honeymoon. I mean, besides Avril, Zero, and … Connor is smiling softly, touching two fingers to his lips in awe. It’s gross. I ignore him. “Last to mate, remember? That was my goal.”

“Why were you on Jungryuk?” I’m super curious about that actually. “You weren’t there to hit up a Tusk Man brothel, were you?”

You’d think I’d slapped the guy. He rears back and gives me an imperious look from obsidian eyes.

“I went there because I assumed it was the least likely place in the universe that I would ever find my mate.” There’s a wry twist to his lips. “Also, I admit, I had always wanted to see an Aspis in person.”

“How was that going to turn out as anything less than your untimely death?” I snort at the idea of Rurik, heading to Jungryuk for a royal safari trip, only to be ripped apart by an Aspis. Then again, he did stand up to Abraxas that day at the brothel, like he was prepared to fight him. And Abraxas, he didn’t press it, like maybe he thought the Vestalis male stood a chance.

“I can handle myself against an Aspis, my princess.” Rurik and I pass by heavy crowds, from one hallway to the next, keeping a slow and leisurely pace. He turns to me. “Did you remember to bring a book with you?” His feelers swing back like rabbit ears, tucked together behind his head. “I did promise that I would read to you.”

I grin and turn to Avril, who still looks like hell. I make sure to tell her that. Consider it karma. She didn’t tell me any of the shit that she was supposed to tell me, so I’m going to tell her all of the shit she doesn’t want to hear. Although I did promise myself I’d try to tease her less …

I can’t resist.

“You look like crap.”

“Thank you, Imperial Princess,” she croaks, likely aware that clapping back at me in a hallway full of loyal Vestalin citizens is a bad idea.

“Can you go back to my room and choose a couple of books from my closet? The ones with the sluttiest covers.” I smile at her. “Thanks, girl.”

She groans, but she has little choice but to do what I’ve said.

Avril peels off, leaving a lovestruck Connor and an—as usual—apathetic Zero.

“Hey.” I wave Connor over, and he obeys, practically skipping. I give him a look. “Did you get fucked by Brot?” I ask, and then I grab his shoulder and turn him away from me so that I can lift his jacket and look at his back. Other Vestalis (and their mates) gasp as I manhandle my male servant, and Rurik makes a sound like maybe this isn’t the ideal way for a princess to behave.

That is, until I realize that he’s struggling to contain a laugh from behind me.

I see no marks on Connor’s skin. He slaps me away and adjusts his glasses with his middle finger again, clearly no accident there.

“What the hell are you doing? My body is only for the pleasure of my mate.” He’s grinning, like he thinks that’s funny, but I sort of want to punch him. I liked both Connor and Avril a lot more when they were shoving the lawyer into the slug monster’s throat. They’re both annoying, nowhere near bestie material like Jane Baker is. “He didn’t fuck me, but we kissed.” Connor ruffles up his black hair with long fingers. “He helped me through the …” He exhales, and that’s all he says. We both know that ‘star-jump’ is a terrible oversimplification of a very weird process. “And he showed me his coremata.” His face is bright when he says it. “I’ve never been with a guy before—strictly speaking, I’m a ladies’ man—but after that display? I’m looking forward to it.”

“Did you know that coremata means ‘feather duster’ in Greek?” I say randomly. Another weird fact that I obtained by dating a moth-breeding entomologist. Lepidopterist, more specifically.

“Does it now?” Connor asks absently, but like he couldn’t care less. He puts his hands over his chest and gazes up at the ceiling like he’s completely and totally dick-drunk. I vow never to allow myself to look that ridiculous in public. “Who cares what they’re called? They’re amazing.” He’s not wrong there. But maybe you have to really see it to get it. Like, I might find the coremata creepy or gross on anyone other than Rurik. “As soon as I felt the full force of my mate’s pheromones, I just …” Connor doesn’t finish his sentence which is probably a good thing.

I ignore him and turn back to see Rurik frowning prettily, one feeler swiveling my way.

“Greek for ‘feather duster’ he repeats?” And I can see that something about that sentence is off for him. The translator could be struggling with it, I guess. “Greek is … a breed of human?”

I snort at that.

“Pretty much. My breed is American.” I touch fingers to my chest and grin. “Which is why I’m such a spitfire shithead. Anyway, yeah, coremata means ‘feather duster’ in a human language that’s different from mine.”

“Feather duster.” Rurik repeats the words with a frown. He pauses to draw a small item from his pocket, about as thick as a credit card and entirely see through. As he taps some things out on the screen, I take it that this is, like, his phone? I’ve never seen it before, and I’m curious. I peer over as the search results pop up, revealing a few museum photos of feather dusters. Like, they’re displayed under lights with signage and everything. My eyes narrow to slits. “A cleaning device?” He sounds offended. “The coremata are … sacred.”

I pretend not to hear that.

Alien men are still men. Of course he thinks that his male parts are sacred.

Rurik tucks the phone away and then pauses beside a servant waiting at the end of the hallway. The unmated Vestalis male passes over another of those face devices, the ones with the little red screens that go over the eye. Rurik puts it on grudgingly, cringing as his father’s blood lace slithers from the metal portion of the device and into his ear, connecting it to him.

I … don’t like that. Not at all.

We continue walking, entering a large room bordered on one side by those elevator platform things. A wall of windows looks over a heavily wooded area and, in the distance, there’s what appears to be a castle.

Brot is waiting nearby, looking purposely away from Connor. Right.

“Have you come to claim your mate?” Rurik asks, forcing a smile. “You know that you are, of course, my most favorite of all our brothers. I bid you sincere congratulations.” My husband affects a half-bow that’s not entirely disingenuous. My heart warms.

Brot turns a mean look over to his sibling, but it doesn’t last long. He can’t seem to resist peering past me at Connor.

“I … have only come to see you off,” Brot sniffs, and I can feel Connor falling apart behind me. I look back to see Zero offering him a dispassionate pat on the back.

“There, there now,” she says with a cruel and amused smirk on her lips. “You poor thing.”

“Well.” Rurik smooths a hand down the front of his jacket as the crowd whispers and stirs around us. I try not to look too closely at them. Some of the females are … Well. Yeah. Some are too alien for my brain to comprehend. Others are just plain creepy. I catch sight of one of those bony aliens, the ones that are always slinking around in hooded cloaks. Now that I can see its beaked, skeletal face, I understand why. I look away. “You cannot remove him from the princess’ entourage until you have mated him. You know the rules.”

“I understand that implicitly,” Brot growls out, and then he slowly drops to his knee in a bow, and the rest of the room follows suit.

Rurik gives his brother a searching look, shrugs, and then pulls me onto one of the platforms.

“When can I change out of this dress?” I whisper as we descend, but Rurik just smiles at me.

“At the end of the day,” he says, which really, is no answer at all. The end of what day? An Earth day? A day on this planet? How long is that going to last? My sense of time is totally warped at this point. I’m not even trying to make it make sense. How long have I been away from Earth? A month? Two months?

I’m considering all of these boring and nonsensical things as we descend. The ship disappears around us, leaving a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the world. We’re way high up, skyscraper high, and falling rapidly. There are rails on the platform, but the bottom is relatively see through. It’s almost like we’re floating downward.

I squash a minor fear of the ground below us and take my time to properly look around.

The trees are vaguely pine-ish. I say ish because they certainly aren’t pine trees. Their trunks twist and bend in fantastic shapes, curving to one side or the other, twisting around each other, spiraling like corkscrews. The branches are heavy and thick with long silver and green needles, and cat-like creatures with too many eyes creep along the heavy boughs.

Below us, a cobbled street awaits with a bridge just ahead, its white length spanning a red river. A river of blood?

“You will love it here,” Rurik assures me, reaching up to touch the side of my face. I love that, how much he’s touching me, how each brush of his fingers should be casual but instead comes across like an eternal promise. “Especially since you’re a dirt-footed planet-dweller.” He smirks at me as I narrow my eyes.

The cool, wet breeze. The smell of damp earth. The mildly familiar pine-ish scent. Ish. Just ish.

I’m so happy to be out of space. Right here, right now, this could very well be one of the happiest moments of my entire life. Surely that means it’ll be short-lived.

Fate is such a fickle bitch.

“Dirt-footed? Is that an insult? I’m starting to figure out that planet-dweller is an insult, too.”

“Only in jest, my princess,” Rurik tells me, accepting a red wool coat from a Vestalis male once we reach the ground. He slips it over my shoulders and helps me to get my arms into it. I’m even offered a pair of smooth leather gloves for my hands. Our crew joins us shortly after, taking another of the platforms down to ground level.

I turn to take in the size of the ship and … find that it’s not really something that can be seen from a point this close up. It’s like trying to look at the whole of Mount Everest when you’re standing at the base. You just can’t see the whole thing.

“How big is this goddamn ship?” I whisper, and it’s Avril who answers, like she actually cares about her job.

“It has a usable landmass roughly the size of the United States,” she tells me, bowing as she delivers the news. Connor is standing there with a tight jaw and clenched teeth, likely thinking about Brot. But Zero? Her white hair blows in the wind as she stares into the distance, like she senses something we don’t.

“Trouble incoming, Your Majesties,” she tells us, and then she takes off, sprinting barefoot across the cobblestones, leaping onto the railing of the bridge, sprinting over that like it’s not a narrow, treacherous span. Zero hops off on the other side and intercepts a pair of Vestalis with a large crowd around them.

Rurik is watching, his hair and wings billowing gently in the breeze. Above us, the sky is decorated with violet clouds that I’d be concerned about if anybody else seemed to notice or care about them. One of the many-eyed cats slinks from the woods and starts to rub on my legs. Also, it has two tails. Also, this one has two heads. And it’s pink, too.

Uh-huh.

I reach down to pet it anyway. One head seems to like me, purring vigorously, while the other hisses. Typical cat. And then my thoughts slingshot back home, to my own cat, Annabelle. I wonder if I could bring her with me on the ship? Also, I forgot that I was allergic to cats. My hand blooms with an itchy rash almost immediately, and I sigh.

“Hey, do you guys have some advanced alien cure for allergies?” I ask Rurik, but he’s not looking at me. He’s standing there with pursed lips, and a bit of color in his cheeks, the faintest dusting of red. “Rurik?”

He drags his gaze away from Zero and the crowd that’s now following her back to where we stand, and he looks so grave that I know immediately something is wrong.

“What is it?” I whisper, but he just pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head.

“I will handle this; do not be afraid.”

“That’s not an answer to my question,” I tell him, pausing to look over my shoulder.

A Vestalis male is approaching with a female at his side. This male looks much like the others except his fur ruff is huge, as big as a lion’s mane. It swallows his head and neck and makes him look a bit overloaded at the top. His eyes are larger than Rurik’s which gives him more of a bug-like look that I don’t particularly find attractive.

And his female? Where should I start?

She’s a millipede, just like the queen, only much, much smaller. This particular intergalactic millipede monster has delicate feelers, like a pair of gentle reeds on her head. Her mandibles are narrow and somehow demure. I can’t even explain how a bug could be feminine, submissive, and demure, but she is. She is all of those things.

So … literally the opposite of me?

Although, I must say, in this dress, my waist is snatched, and I feel like my kingmaking pussy—my lifesaving pussy—is pretty spectacular. So, feminine I might be, but the other two things are a hard no.

The millipede lady in front of me has skin the color of watermelon tourmaline—my favorite stone—and it’s as shiny as the queen’s. Thankfully, she has way fewer legs. Her massive black eyes stare into mine, and I get the impression once again that I look more like an easy meal than I do the imperial princess.

Rurik sighs and holds out a hand.

“My princess, I would like to introduce to you my most favorite of all my brothers, Ranet.” Rurik smiles, but it’s not a very nice smile. Maybe he isn’t too nice after all. He looks quietly furious. “Ranet, allow me to introduce your Imperial princess and future queen.”

“As pleased as I am to make your acquaintance,” his brother sniffs rather rudely, “I don’t believe it is as simple as all that.”

“Pardon?” Rurik retorts politely, but the word is a warning that I would heed if I were this guy. “Explain why you have not taken a knee.” He looks derisively in the direction of his brother’s … mate? But … I thought we were the only ones mated (other than Connor and Brot who have yet to consummate their deal). When did this happen? “Your mate as well. On your knees, the both of you.”

“I believe that once we have conversed with mother and father, it will be you and your mate on your knees,” Ranet says, looking over at his lady. They gaze at one another before turning back to us. “I found my female before you. Improper as it may be, we mated at first sight. Nearly fourteen solar days ago.”

Uh.

I feel like such a stupid asshole right now. This is bad. I know this is bad. This is really, really fucking bad.

I look at Rurik, but he doesn’t seem concerned anymore. Now he just looks pissed the hell off.

“I do not like to repeat myself, Ranet. You well-know this. We are from the same litter.” Rurik’s words cut like a knife. More importantly: they’re a final warning. Note to self: ask about the litter thing later. I’m guessing it’s because Rurik’s mom is a giant millipede creature. If she has a hundred-and-three sons, she must have massive litters. I put my hand on my belly and Ranet notices. “Bend your knees in honor of the Imperial Princess.”

“I cannot in good conscience allow this charade to continue,” Ranet blusters, puffing up his already puffed up chest and shoulders. “We will speak to mother and father about correcting this oversight. My mate and I were paired first.”

Rurik tugs me close, and then he bites my neck. Blood lace spills out of the wound and over my shoulders, an entire wave of it. The bright red threads wrap both Ranet and his mate, dragging them to the ground so that they lay humiliated and trapped, pinned to the cobblestones on their bellies. Rurik gently licks my wound, kisses it, and then lifts his head back up as I turn around to gape.

“Next time I give you an order that you do not follow, I will kill you both.” He waits there for a moment, reaching up to press his fingers against the device on his head. “Yes mother. Yes father. We will be right up.”

The blood lace sweeps back in another wave, pooling at our feet and melting into liquid. Rurik absorbs it back into his body, and then he’s hitting a button and up we go again.

Back to the goddamn ship.