Blood Crown (29 page)

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Authors: Ali Cross

BOOK: Blood Crown
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“Stars,” Nic breathes.

“Moons,” I reply. He shivers beneath my breath at his neck and I laugh. I’ve always felt powerful. Always felt I had power over men—power to make them want me, power to defy them, to deny them. But this feels . . . different. Powerful
and
vulnerable.

And he holds just as much power over me. It is a humbling and enlivening thing.

“Sera.” Nic’s breath is hot against my temple and rings with a certain disappointment. The pod is reporting our proximity to my ship. I start to slide off of him—it feels a lot more awkward now than it did in the heat of the moment. “Wait.” He holds me to him, pushing my shoulders back a little so he can see into my eyes.

“Sera, there’s something—something you might not know. I don’t think it’s being communicated through our symbiants—at least, not like it should be.”

I settle back onto his lap and study the face of this man who I only knew as a boy. He has convinced my heart and mind that we’ve been together forever. He is beautiful, with his jet black hair flopped over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. His eyes are as blue as the images of Earth’s sky on a sunny, cloudless day, but they glimmer in a way I’ve only ever seen in jewels—like the ones draped around the necks of the Mind.

He has a strong face, pale skin, full, soft lips. He looks young, but he holds himself with a confidence beyond his years. I think he is perfect with his long body and broad shoulders. With his arrogance and confidence.

“What?” he says when my eyes finally find his again.

I shake my head and smile, enjoying the way he looks at me—like I am far more powerful than him. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?” My voice is rough from emotion, from want and desire. From love unspoken.

An expression ill-suited to his face settles in his eyes and he glances away, blushing again when his gaze falls to my chest which is more exposed than ought to be proper in the gown the Mind provided for me. He clears his throat and wisely returns his gaze to mine.

And suddenly I know exactly what it is he wants to say and I’m filled with a desire to save him the discomfort of being the first to admit it.

“You want to tell me that you have feelings for me that go beyond the Exchange of our symbiants.”

He nods and swallows and I smile to relieve the fear that shadows his eyes.

“I feel the same,” I tell him. I lower my head until my forehead rests against his and I watch his lips, wishing I could touch his thick, black lashes. So I do. I trail my fingers up his cheek and glory at the way his skin flushes beneath my touch. I let my thumb brush across his lashes. “But how can it be possible when we really don’t know one another?”

“Since you were born we spent every major holiday—every four months—together.” Nic’s voice is quiet, barely a sound on his lips. “I was two when your father presented you, a newborn babe, to me along with a sword and a commandment. I was to cherish you all my days, to stand in defense of you, always.”

I want to tease him, to chase away the serious expression that has darkened his eyes, but inexplicably, tears gather in my eyes and I lean forward again, cradling my head on his shoulder as the tears fall.

“I think I was mostly excited about the sword, which I wore almost non-stop from that day.” My fingers drift down to his side, and land on the hilt of his sword. He chuckles, a warm rumble that echoes through his symbiants in my body. “It’s in a case above my desk at home, now. I outgrew it a long time ago—but I never outgrew your father’s command.

“The last time I saw you, when you were ten, and I was almost twelve, your family came to our
Capital
for the Farewell Festival—celebrating the day humans took to the stars and left their dying Earth behind. My father had always insisted on war training, but on my birthday earlier that year the training had increased in vigor. Trainings in matters of state had also begun and so I stood as his heir that day when your family disembarked from your ship. Your mother and father approached first. They were regal and beautiful, so different from my own family. I mean, my parents were kingly, but there was a delicacy in your mother that mine did not possess, and an open charm to your father that made me feel . . . warm and suspicious. My own father is a hard man. He rarely smiles, rarely offers any kind of softness.” Nic’s voice catches in his throat and I know he is fighting back the emotions his parents’ deaths have caused in him.

“But after your father had shaken my father’s hand, and bowed before my mother, he held his hand out to me. Like an equal. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but it was something that made me stand taller, to puff out my chest just a bit and grip the hilt of my sword. He made me feel capable of caring for all that would one day be mine.

“And then he stepped aside and beckoned to you. He watched with me as you walked toward us. I knew you were just a little girl, but in that moment I understood that you would also be my wife. You had changed a lot in the four months since I saw you last. You were taller for one, and your hair had grown longer—I noticed all those things—but there was something else, too. You looked . . . regal.

“‘She is a vision,’ your father said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. ‘She is my greatest treasure, son. Guard her with all your cunning, and give her all your passion—for she is deserving of nothing less. She is the most valuable thing in all the universe.’ I didn’t exactly understand his words, but I understood the sentiment.”

I smile at the images playing behind my eyes, Nic’s memories of that day enlivening my own until it is like we are there again.

“When Archibald presented you to me, I stepped forward to take your hand, as was our custom when you visited. But you seemed to know that something had changed in me, and you curtsied low.

“My legs shook and there was so much adrenaline coursing through me that my arms felt numb. ‘Rise,’ I said in my best kingly voice. When you did, you didn’t keep your eyes downcast as was the tradition in my kingdom. You looked straight at me with eyes as rich and dark as chocolate. And that’s when I knew.”

He paused, his chest trembling beneath my hands. “What did you know?” I am afraid to hope, but the way his symbiants sing in my veins I am sure I am right.

His arms tighten around me before he continues. “I knew that I loved you. And that I would always love you and would never desire another. I stripped the glove from my right hand, not understanding what I wanted to do but knowing it was right. I held my hand out to you.

“I accept you, Serantha,” I said. My mother gasped and someone made a strangled sound. There was a flurry of movement, but it didn’t matter, I only had eyes for you. In a flash you’d peeled off your own glove. You said, “I accept you, Nicolai,” in your little girl voice but with eyes that seemed to be filled with ancient wisdom. Our fingers touched and a golden warmth rushed through me. The biggest smile lit your face, and I wanted to kiss your dimples and see the sparkle in your eyes exactly like that every day of my life. I never wanted to leave you.

“But then we were pulled apart and scolded and I barely saw you anymore for the rest of the celebration—and then you were gone. Gone for good, I thought.”

“But I wasn’t gone.” I’m leaning back now, watching his face, seeing the memory play back in my own mind in stereo—his memories and my own, dusty and long unused.

Nic shakes his head sadly. “No, you weren’t gone. But I thought you were. We all thought you were. When we learned the Capital had been attacked, and that the royal family had not survived, my father did something I have never forgiven him for. We escaped, taking up a position of cowardice behind a moon deep in the Eastern Empire and the Mind were too indifferent to come after us.

“I came to hate my father, to hate everything the royal family stood for. Because of him, we didn’t come to your aid. I felt, because of him, you had died.” He takes a long, shaky breath and lets his gaze meet mine, lets me see everything in there, feel it echo inside of me through his symbiants.

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you who I was the moment I recognized you. I’m sorry I didn’t grab you into my arms and pledge myself to you immediately.” He hangs his head and I am speechless. Not knowing what else to do, I lift his face but when his eyes meet mine I still don’t know what to say. So I let my symbiants communicate the love and acceptance in my heart.

“I have loved you forever, Serantha. You may feel you have only just met me, but I remember. And I have never forgotten the way your hand felt in mine that day. The day we became one—or at least, joined.”

He offers me a small smile and warmth springs to life in my belly, radiating outward, filling my blood, my tissues, my limbs, my breath with golden happiness. He slips his right hand from around my waist and holds it, palm upward between us.

“I accept you, Serantha.”

My smile grows until I feel it crinkles the corners of my eyes, stretching my cheeks further than they’ve ever gone. I can barely contain the giddy joy I feel as I place my hand on his, palms touching.

“I accept you, Nicolai.”

Though it had already happened—once in part, when we were children, and once in desperation when we fought against the Mind—this time nothing much changes in us, but it doesn’t quell the joy I feel. And when the Blood Crown appears on Nic’s forehead, shining forth in crimson glory, I laugh and he laughs and then we are kissing the laughter away, spreading kisses all over our faces.

And I think—
this is love. This is true. This is forever
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My heart is in my throat and I feel as if I could shout for joy. I search Serantha’s eyes for proof of her feelings. Even though her symbiants tell me she feels the same as I, I don’t want to mistake it. I was not terribly kind to her. I was not honest with her.

I don’t deserve her forgiveness and love.

She whispers, “
Shh, shh
,” in answer to my fears but I feel so exposed, so unsure of this new reality I find myself in. In all the visions of my future or fantasies I engaged in as a youth—none involved finding my Betrothed. None involved the fulfillment of my creation. None offered the kind of love and hope I feel now.

Love
and
hope
were dreams of the past—neither of those things had a place in my future. Real or imagined.

But now . . .

“Serantha, I . . .”

She kisses my neck and I am momentarily speechless.

Finally I drag my senses together and clear my throat.

“I need to apologize.”

“For what?” Her eyes search mine and I feel our symbiants Exchange—but even though I know she
knows
, I still feel the need to say the words.

“I am sorry for hiding my identity from you. Sorry I didn’t ask you to Bond right away. We might have saved lives if I had and I . . .” Too many words, too much emotion, clog my throat and I am unable to choke out anymore. So much is still unsaid.

Serantha pushes my hair off my forehead, then leans forward until our brows are touching.

“I forgive you,” she says. And I feel it is enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the same moment we sigh and pull back from each other. We have reached the
Capital
and our small pod has already initiated contact and docking protocols.

I stare up at the shadow looming before us. The
Capital
hovers in the blackness of space like a dark planet. No lights blink along its sides and a sob lodges itself in my throat. This kingdom-ship had once been filled with life, been the place for society, for education and trade. This ship had once been the symbol of my family’s people—the West. Now it is empty. Dead. The Mind have wiped out countless humans and will continue to do so.
How can we ever survive them? How can we hope to stop them?

“We will find a way,” Nic says as he reaches for my hand. He keeps his gaze forward, his lips drawn into a line. He looks just like the stubborn, arrogant young man I’d met in my ship’s control room—but now I know what lurks behind that stern exterior. He fears for humanity as much as I.

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