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Kovo, Atlan Warlord, Planet Atlan, Prison Cell 4-D7, Death Row
Time to execution: 00:10:12:43
Iglanced at the timer counting down how much longer I would live. The small, black box was built into the wall in every cell. Some Atlans didn’t want to know how much time they had left.
I needed to know exactly how long I must hold on to my tenuous control.
Ten hours, twelve minutes, forty-three seconds.
Forty-two.
Forty-one.
The beast within screamed his rage at my choice. The excess of fury did nothing but affirm I was making the correct decision. I was out of time.Wewere out of time.
I sat as I had been for most of the last few days, unmoving. Uncaring. The guards came each day, forcing me to eat, bathe and change clothing. I did what they told me to do with no argument. The beast inside me pounded the inside of my body, tore at my will, fought to break free, but outside I remained calm, icy control frozen on my face.
He’d been fighting me for years. I wasn’t going to be able to hold him back much longer.
Why could the ten hours not be ten minutes? I was so fucking tired of fighting. Battling my beast. The Hive. The Intelligence Core. Mating Fever. Hope. The last was the worst of them all. Three years in the Interstellar Brides Program matching system and nothing. I had finally bested the most powerful enemy I had ever faced. I had killed hope.
I had no mate. Mating Fever was coming for me. I made this choice now before I lost the ability to decide for myself.
If I had to die, I would die with honor. I would die helping someone else. I had no regrets.
Down the long, echoing corridors of the facility that doubled as both research hospital and prison, I heard visitors speaking quietly. My senses automatically flared out to process the threat. Two warlords. Three…females?
What the fuck were fragile females doing in this horrifying place? They must be terrified. The males who escorted them had no honor, bringing them here, exposing them to so many dangerous monsters more than capable of killing them all without thought or control.
“No honor.” Frustration at their stupidity forced a grumble from my throat.
The grumble increased to a growl, the growl to a roar.
“They claim to be warlords.” They would not hear me, but the words needed to be said. Fools. Incompetent. Disgraceful. The males did not deserve the company of a single female. But three? Were theytryingto get the females killed?
Another loud grumble escaped me. I had not fought in the Hive war, served in the I.C. and made this sacrifice so fools could escort innocent females around inside a death trap.
I roared, hoped the males would hear me and at least take the females under their protection to a much safer location. This floor of the prison was reserved for the worst cases, beasts so out of control they would kill their own family members with zero recognition or remorse.
Not so with me. I was here for the severity of my crime, not because I couldn’t control my beast.
My beast would stay safely locked away until I did not need to worry about him—or anything else—anymore. Until I was dead. If I had to slice my own throat to prevent his escape, I would. By the gods, I would die with honor.
A quick glance at the little black box made me sigh. Two minutes had passed.
The next ten hours were going to be both the last, and thelongest,of my life.
I settled into position on my bed, lying on my back, hands linked over my stomach and stared at the soft tones of gray and green meant to be calming.
Right. Nothing about this place was the slightest bit calm. We were all waiting to die.
That wasn’t calm, that was fucking depressing.
“Stop, Adrian! Do not!” The loud command echoed down the corridor outside my cell. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. Motionless, listening to the faint pitter patter of what had to be very small feet.
A female? Walking toward this end of the facility? What the fuck was she thinking?
