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“Why is this happening to him?”
“Breeding with humans is against the rules. A’zal has made a claim to you as his mate. The claim is permanent and can’t be undone. Unless you reject him, of course.”
They were banishing him because he’d told his father he wanted to be with her?
“I never agreed to be his mate,” she said quickly. “That has to count for something.”
“Are you rejecting him, then?”
“I— if I do, will the king leave him alone?”
The king began speaking and interrupted whatever Neb might have said. Kimber couldn’t make out a word of it. Frustrated, she went limp in the guard’s arm to ease the discomfort of his hold on her. The shadow man handed her a small button.
“Press this.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“It’s a translator. It will allow you to understand everyone in the room.”
The guard didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t take it away. Kimber held it against her palm and pressed it with her thumb.
“Do you understand now the severity of what you’ve done?”
The king narrowed his eyes. One side of his head was beautifully braided but the other hung free and unfinished. She knew nothing about Luxxorian biology, but this alien was not the same vibrant color as the others. He looked faded and sick.
A’zal’s spine was so straight that the muscles in his back bulged to hold him ram-rod tall. “I regret nothing.”
“You will when you’re dumped in the deserts of Iknal Provence. You will regret giving up everything for a night or two in a human’s bed.”
Across the room, Tristan visibly trembled at the mention of Iknal Provence.
The shadow man tipped his head low. “As A’zal’s companion, Kon must accompany him wherever he goes. Even into exile.”
Kon? Tristan, right. “Exile?”
“Were you informed that the human and I created life?” A’zal hissed. “I was injected with reproductive blockers like the others, yet my bond with this human is so strong, we created life. This child is meant to be and as long as he lives, I will regret nothing. My son is your progeny, my king. Think about that.”
The room went hush-quiet.
Emotions flickered on the king’s face suggesting he hadn’t been informed about the baby.
“I know you’re sick, father. I can see it in your eyes, on your skin. That’s why you gave in to the skwerm so easily, isn’t it? You’re recalling everyone from the Ruspa because you’re afraid you may not live until it ends on its own. And now you’re exiling your only son—the only heir to the throne.”
“Do not try and sway me from punishing you for your insubordination!”
“Punish me,” A’zal said quickly. “Punish me all you like but don’t hurt my mate or my child. Let them live. Protect them. Any anger you might take out on them, take out on me instead.”
“A’zal, no!”
Tears rolled down her face. Struggling against the guard’s grip, she threw the translator on the ground and tried desperately to get free.
“Let’s go to Ireland, somewhere remote like you said, and we’ll have this baby together. Just me and you. No one will ever know.”
Ignoring the impossibility of her words, Kimber scrambled for anything that might help. “We can go off grid, stay hidden until the child is older, and we can figure something out. Please.”
His chest rose and fell harder as she spoke. He tried to look at her, but the guard held him too tightly. Roaring, A’zal pulled one arm free and punched the guard in the throat, then spun to look at her before he was wrangled again.
“I’ve already claimed you as my mate, Kimber. Do you accept me?”
