Page 86 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
T'Raal followed his father, stepping into the transport's cramped interior—a metal box lined with utilitarian seats, with engines strapped to the outside for maximum efficiency. He settled into the seat beside his father as the shuttle lifted off with a mechanical roar.
He ached to see his mate again. Flexing his hands, he stared at the dark patterns around his wrists. Mating marks. After a century and a half of believing he'd die alone, the universe had given him a mate. A soulmate.
"Remarkable things, those marks," Daaynal said quietly, noticing his attention.
T'Raal looked up to find his father watching him. Lines carved deep around Daaynal's eyes spoke of old pain and regret.
"I never experienced that bond with M'Aarni," Daaynal continued in a low voice. "But I always wondered what it would feel like."
"It wasn't meant to be between you two," T'Raal said. "I figured that out years ago."
Daaynal's shoulders sagged slightly, the Emperor's mask slipping to reveal the man underneath. He stared out the small viewport at the stars wheeling past, his reflection ghostlike in the reinforced glass.
"I wish I'd known you existed. Wish I could have watched you grow up, been there when you needed guidance."
He turned back to T'Raal, and the naked hope in his eyes was almost painful to witness. "But seeing the man you've become... I couldn't be prouder. I hope you'll allow me the privilege of being in your life now."
Consciousness returned slowly,and Reese lay still for a moment, testing her body's responses before fully waking. No pain. For the first time in months, there was no constant ache and no electric fire shooting down her spine.
She flexed her left foot as a test and it moved easily. Perfectly. Holy shit. Her eyes shot open wide when fingers moved when she told them to, steady and sure. Whatever they'd done to her, it had actually worked.
She lifted her head to look around. The medical bay around her looked nothing like the tiny one aboard theSprite. Warm amber light glowed from the walls. The bed beneath her was larger than anything she'd slept in and adjusted to her every move. Equipment hummed quietly in the background… alien technology that looked more like art than medical devices.
A soft sound drew her attention to the chair beside her bed. T'Raal sat slumped to the side, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his hands clasped loosely over his flat stomach. His dark hair had come loose from its usual tie, falling forward tohide his face. Even in sleep, he looked tense as hell, jaw clenched tight.
How long had he been sitting there?
"T'Raal," she said softly.
His head snapped up. Blue-green eyes found hers, and relief flooded his features.
"Reese." Her name on his lips carried weight—gratitude, desperation, something deeper that made heat curl low in her stomach. "How do you feel?"
She sat up carefully, waiting for the familiar stab of pain that never came. "Like myself again. Like..." She paused, searching for words. "Like I remember being."
"Good. That's good." He leaned forward, one hand reaching toward her before stopping himself. "The treatment worked better than Laarn expected. They fixed everything."
Something was wrong. She read it in the tension around his eyes, the careful control in his voice.
"What did it cost?" she asked quietly.
"I had to acknowledge who I am. Publicly. Officially." T'Raal stood, moving to the small viewport that showed stars wheeling past in the darkness. "Crown Prince T'Raal Verran-K'Saan, and heir to the Imperial throne."
Shit. Hearing his formal title made the reality of what he'd done crash over her. For her. He'd given up everything he'd built, everything he'd chosen to be, for her sake.
"T'Raal..." she started.
"Eventually anyway." T'Raal turned from the viewport.
"Why?" The word escaped before she could stop it.
He frowned. "My father won't live forever. When he dies, the crown passes to me whether I want it or not."
She clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "Not that. Why did you do it?"
"You know why."
"Tell me anyway."
