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features. Her young face and her body bubbled with
unsuppressed excitement as she asked questions about Hadar .
    Had she chosen to easily forget
their last stolen moment?
    Farr and Gael took turns answering,
giving her small protective touches here and there. Seeing Farr idly stroking
her back and Gael occasionally rubbing at her arm or touching her hair nearly
made Brale snap off his mental leash.
    “Calm down,” Dyos hissed beside him.
    Just the sound of Dyos’s voice was enough for his rage to ebb. Brale gritted his teeth and ignored the triumphant and
lofty look Farr directed to him. The hatch to the cruiser was opening,
revealing the disconcerting streaked blue-green skies of Planet Hadar and a sea of pale faces. The primal sound of drums
mingled with the sound of a singular chant uttered by multiple voices.
    Oh
gods. Farr wasn’t serious about an official mating ritual, was he? Walking
down the stairs of the hatch and touching solid ground, the chanting grew
louder, almost to a deafening level.
    In the distance, polished marbled
stairs led to an impressive structure supported by multiple marble columns. It
was a Hadarian temple, and it wasn’t just any temple,
but the grand temple at the capital. Brale stared at
it with disbelief for a few seconds. A quick look at the surrounding tall
buildings told Brale they were indeed inside the
capital.
    A group of white-robed priests,
high-ranking politicians, and military leaders awaited them. An unsettling
feeling began to line at the pit of Brale’s stomach
at the sight of the politicians. Just who the hell was Farr to have this much
of a welcoming party?
    “Welcome back, Prince Farrian . We are pleased you have succeeded with your
efforts to claim a mate,” one elderly priest greeted.
    Brale’s mouth fell open. Prince Farrian ? Lieutenant Farr is the third in line to the Hadarian throne?
    Dyos took
an indrawn breath beside him, telling him Dyos hadn’t
known about that little tidbit either. All the clues were there. The
state-of-the-art weapons Farr and his crew were toting and how fast he’d
acquired a second ship to pursue them.
    Brale strained his mind for any news or gossip he’d heard about the prince. He
remembered that unlike his two older brothers, who were both renowned warriors
and commanders, Prince Farrian was blandly mediocre,
hardly even worth a gossip or two. Other than that, Brale came up with nothing.
    “Are the preparations ready?” Farr
asked briskly.
    “Indeed, prince. Everything is as
you’ve asked. After the temple ceremony there will be a feast celebrating your
union,” the priest answered. “This way, please.”
    Their party followed the priest,
and with guns pressed against their backs, Brale and Dyos had no choice but to follow. Brale felt numbed and helpless. The prospect of escape no longer seemed like a
daunting one, but a hopeless one. Why did Farr bring them along when he
could’ve shoved them in the palace dungeons and left them to rot? Killing them
would be the safest option, so why leave them alive?
    “I didn’t know you were a prince.” Brale was close enough to hear J speak.
    “My station doesn’t change
anything, lovely. Do not be afraid,” Farr said in a soothing voice, pulling her
close.
    “I’m not afraid, just surprised.” J
said, leaning close to him.
    “Good girl,” Gael said, whispering
something close to her ear. Whatever he said made her laugh.
    Brale gritted his teeth. This torture was beyond unbearable. Farr was doing this on
purpose. Brale ignored the painful shove of the gun
behind him, urging him to move forward as he pondered on that thought. Stealing
an expensive mate right from under his nose must’ve been a painful blow to his
honor, and a prince had more pride than the average man. Suddenly, it made a
whole lot of sense why Farr would risk keeping them alive. Farr was a sadist.
Killing them after obtaining J wouldn’t leave him satisfied. Farr needed to see
them suffer to reclaim his lost