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“She is with child?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say emphatically.

I move to the side so Juliet may come forward. “And see,” I urge her to lift her forearm. “The babe works a transformation in its mother. I think perhaps to make itself a suitable environment for gestation or to protect her from harm.”

Lastly I clasp Juliet’s hand and stand proudly by her side. “Truly it is a miracle. Our race has a future. Just as you envisioned, Father.”

Father nods, looking Juliet up and down curiously. He opens his mouth to say something, but the Queen cuts him off.

“Yes,” she says imperiously. “The human specimen is entirely too precious. We must protect and monitor the First Mother at all times. For her safety and that of the babe she carries within.”

I frown. What does she mean by that?

I look back to my father. “I request that we be returned to the surface. I do not believe that an artificial gravity environment is the best place for gestation—”

The Queen looks to the King. “What did I tell you?” she hisses. “Your bastard son seeks to usurp you. He would run away with the First Mother and start a rebellion against you.”

“What? No. Father, I would never—”

“Look, lady, you’ve got a lot of nerve.” Juliet strains to move forward and I barely manage to hold her back by my grip on her hand. “First to kidnap me and drag me here, and now you think you’re going to keep me from going home? The only place me and this kid will be safe is away from you!”

“See?” the Queen asks my father. “These primitives are vile and prone to violent outbursts. If we must continue this experiment, at least we can keep her sedated and under control.”

Then, before my father can respond, the Queen snaps, “Guards!”

I put my arm around Juliet and hold the other hand out. “Wait. Father, listen to me. Is it wrong that my mate wants to defend our child at all costs? She does not know this place. Consider her treatment so far. Kidnapped and thrown in a cage. Like any mother, she worries for her child. If we slow down, we can come to an accord, I know it—”

But the guards are already upon us.

I growl and push Juliet behind me. I will fight any who dare lay a finger upon her. Rage and flame heat in my chest. I will spew fire upon any that touch her.

…Except that they might respond fire for fire. While I am unsure if my new partially human body can withstand the fire, I am positive that Juliet’s cannot.

So I swallow back my flames, left with only my fists. Royal guards come towards us from all directions.

I rage and shove the first guard that approaches. Juliet screams as three more bear down on me.

I spin away from their grasp and reach for Juliet, but more guards are dragging her backwards away from me. I roar and charge them, but a blow to the head knocks me to the side.

I kick out and knock one of the guards backwards but there are simply too many. Within moments, they have dragged me to my feet, arms pinned behind my back.

“Juliet!” I shout but I can do nothing but watch as my mate is dragged away, kicking and screaming.

When the doors close behind her, I finally sag in defeat. But only because pretending obedience and subservience is Juliet’s only chance. Now I must beg for what I could not fight to win.

I glare up at the thrones and see the Queen smiling down at me. I barely contain my battle cry, wanting to throttle her.

Father at least looks somewhat dismayed so I breathe out, trying to call myself, and then I make my petition to him. “At least tell me she will be safe,” I beseech.

My father’s eyes come to me and with a gesture of his hand, all of the guards restraining me suddenly let me go.

I want to immediately run after Juliet but no. I will only fail again and her safety is more important than my rage. I look back to my father. “Will my mate be returned to the cage in med bay?”

“I imagine so.”

“May I at least go see her there and offer what comfort I can?”

My father pauses, tilting his head, and if I am not mistaken, his features soften slightly.

“Your loyalty is admirable.”

“It is not only loyalty, Father.” I stand taller. “It is love.”

My father sits back on his throne and his eyes go distant as if he is lingering in a memory. Then his eyes snap back to me and he gives a short nod. “No harm will come to your mate. You may go to her.”

I breathe out in relief. Perhaps all is not yet lost.

It is only as I turn to leave that I notice the Queen’s eyes are bright purple with rage. But there is nothing she can do. The King has spoken.

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