Page 35 of The Alien Minotaur's Bride

The crying had worn me out. My body was heavy, exhausted, wrung out from the emotion. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, his breath warm against my hair, his scent settled over me, steady and close.

I fell asleep against his chest.

It wasn't peace, exactly. Not yet. But it wasn't fighting either. Somewhere between the two – a pause. A rest.

And when I woke later, still cradled in his arms, the grief was still there but quieter. Easier to carry.

The terminal was still there too, waiting for signals it would never send.

But I didn't look at it again.

CHAPTER 11

CONTEMPT OF COURT

The summons arrived at dawn.

I was still in my nest, half-awake, my body warm and loose from the early-morning milking Keth had tended to before the light crept in. He'd gone to the workshop afterwards, and I'd drifted in the comfortable haze of satisfaction and safety that was becoming dangerously familiar.

Then his scent shifted.

I sat up. Even from across the dwelling, I could smell the change – that sharp metallic note I'd learned to associate with threat, cutting through his usual warmth like a blade. His hooves moved fast across the floor, and then he was in the doorway, a flat metal tablet in his hand.

"What is it?"

"Vorreth filed." His voice was flat. Controlled in a way that told me how much that control was costing him. "The formal challenge. We have to appear before the hierarchy panel."

I stared at him. I'd known this was coming – he'd explained the mechanism, warned me about the possibility – but the reality of it landed differently than the theory had.

"When?"

"Today. The summons was received this morning. We have–" He glanced at the tablet. "Three hours."

"Three hours." I pushed myself out of the nest, my legs unsteady. "They give you three hours' notice for something like this?"

"The hierarchy moves quickly when status is involved." His jaw was tight. "A producing omega is valuable. They want this resolved."

Valuable. Like a commodity. Like property being assessed for transfer.

"What do I have to do?"

"Stand before the panel. Let them scent you." His jaw tightened. "They will assess the bond-strength between us. If it reads strong, the challenge fails. If it reads weak–"

"I get reassigned."

"It will not come to that." He crossed the room, his hand finding my face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. "The bond is real, Mara. You know it is. They will smell it on you."

I thought about the way my body responded to him. The way my whole body settled the moment he was near. The way I'd fallen asleep against his chest just days ago, too tired to fight and too comfortable to want to.

The bond was real. I knew it was.

But Vorreth had looked at me like I was livestock. And someone who looked at people like that didn't file challenges he expected to lose.

The assessment chamber was cold.

Not physically – the temperature was the same ambient warmth as everywhere else on Khorreth. But the atmosphere was cold, formal, stripped of anything resembling comfort. High ceilings, smooth stone walls, tiered seating rising on all sides, filled with Khorreth officials and observers. At the centre, a raised platform just large enough for one person to stand on.

One small person. Surrounded by beings that dwarfed her.