The crowd parted before her, creating a pathway down the center of the hall.The chatter died down, and anticipation filled the air as they all looked at her.
Somehow, she kept her chin up and a smile on her face.
Pink tutus.Ruffles.Pink tutus.Ruffles.
Raaevik followed her, a silent, deadly shadow at her back.She didn't turn to look at him.Didn't need to.His presence was a constant behind her.
There was a dais at the far end of the hall.Steps of white marble led up to a throne that looked like it had been carved from a single piece of black stone.And standing before it, descending those steps as she approached, was the emperor himself.
She swallowed nervously.
Emperor Daaynal K'Saan.
He wasfreakingenormous.Even among the lathar filling the hall, he stood apart.Taller than Raaevik by at least two inches, broader across the shoulders, with a physique that belonged on a recruiting poster for some war god's army or a porn shoot, her brain less than helpfully added.
Long dark hair was pulled back from his face, emphasizing the harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones.His eyes were a bright, piercing green that seemed to cut through the distance between them.
To her surprise, he wore leather like the other lathar.Not the ceremonial robes she’d expected, but actual warrior's gear… fitted and scarred and clearly well-used.The only concession to his rank was the crown: a simple band of unpolished metal.
He was terrifying.
He was also,annoyingly, handsome.
Not in the pretty way of the attendants who had stripped her.But handsome with edges and danger and the promise of violence held in check.Handsome, the way Raaevik was devastating.
Her stomach dropped.
Shit.This would have been easier if he'd been ugly.Or cruel-looking.Or had tentacles, for god's sake.Something she could hate on sight.Instead, he looked like every romance novel hero she'd secretly devoured in college, scaled up to alien proportions.
Shit.
She reached the base of the dais and stopped.What the hell did she do now?Did she bow?Kneel?Curtsy?Throw herself at his feet and beg for mercy?
Before she could panic, Daaynal closed the remaining distance himself.He descended the last few steps and stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she had to crane her neck to see his face.
He smiled.It wasn't a politician's smile, practiced and empty.It was warm and almost gentle.The kind you give a skittish animal you’re trying not to spook.
"Emily Evans," he said, his voice deep, with an accent that made her name sound exotic."Welcome to Devan Station.Welcome to the Empire.Welcome home.”
He held his hand out, waiting for her to put hers in it.She looked at it for a moment.Even his hand was huge.Her gaze dropped to his feet, in heavy combat boots.Yeah, also huge.
Her cheeks burning, she reached out and took his hand.His eyes were warm with approval as his fingers closed around hers, his grip careful and controlled.
"I have waited a long time for you," he continued, his green eyes locked on hers."My perfect genetic match.”
The words should have made her angry.Reminded her that she was here against her will.But standing this close, feeling the warmth of his hand and the weight of his attention, all she felt was overwhelmed.
He wasn't a monster.He was… nice.
The court erupted, and the cheers crashed over her like a wave.Warriors slammed fists against their chests.The noise was physical, pressing against her from all sides.She forced her lips into a smile as Daaynal turned her around to face the crowd, her heart hammering against her ribs as if trying to escape.
Through the chaos, her eyes sought something… anything familiar.
Raaevik.
She found him standing near a pillar where the shadows were deepest.He stood at ease, arms behind his back, face unreadable.But he was watching her.
Daaynal's hand tightened slightly on hers.
