Chapter 14 #2
He began pacing again, animated by the memories. "They all profited from my existence, from my work."
He returned his focus to me. "And when I needed capital—real resources to fund my operations—I found Declan Hewes."
The name made my stomach twist. "You're a slave trader."
"A businessman," Riuondo corrected. "One who understood the value of human cargo.
Alliance nobility paid well for exotic slaves, and Hewes provided them.
I simply... facilitated certain transactions.
Ensured his ships could move through Alliance space without interference.
In return, he funded my operations. Quite the profitable arrangement. "
"You trafficked humans." The words came out strangled. "You helped enslave them."
"I used the resources available to me." He shrugged, utterly unconcerned. "Hewes would have operated with or without my help. I simply made him more efficient. And in doing so, I built the financial foundation I needed to eliminate my competition and position myself for succession."
I stared at him, this male I'd once competed against in the trials. This male who'd seemed merely ambitious, merely angry at losing. I'd never imagined the depths of his depravity.
"You orchestrated everything," I said. "The skirmish between Vaktaire and Romvesia. Your supposed death on the mining moon. All of it."
"All of it," he confirmed, clearly pleased that I was finally understanding the scope of his plan.
"I needed to disappear. To work in the shadows while you played Prime.
And now, after all these years, after all that patience and planning, I'm the only candidate left. The only one who can succeed you."
A thought struck me—something that had been nagging at the edges of my mind since the ambush. "How did you know?" I asked. "How did you know where we'd be? When we left Vaktaire, only a handful of people knew our route, our timing. Who gave us up?"
Riuondo's smile widened, clearly enjoying this. "Ah. You want to know which of your advisors betrayed you." He paused for effect. "It was Kalipuk."
Kalipuk. My trusted pilot. The man who'd served me for decades. "No," I said. "That's impossible. Kalipuk would never—"
"Wouldn't he?" Riuondo circled me slowly. "He held out longer than I expected, I'll give him that. Quite loyal, your Kalipuk. But everyone has a breaking point."
My stomach turned. "What did you do?"
"I took his mate. His younglings." Riuondo said it so casually, as if discussing a minor inconvenience.
"Brought them to one of my facilities. Started with the mate—she was quite resilient, actually.
Lasted almost three days before Kalipuk finally agreed to send me your flight plans, your security protocols, everything I needed. "
I felt bile rise in my throat. The image of Kalipuk's mate—gentle Aeriva, who'd always had a kind word for everyone—being tortured while Kalipuk was forced to choose between his family and his duty. "You monster."
"I'm practical," Riuondo corrected. "And it worked. He gave you up, and here we are."
But even as horror washed through me, another thought crystallized. Kalipuk hadn't betrayed me out of greed or ambition or weakness. He'd done it to save his family. Any parent would have done the same. Any mate. In his position, facing that impossible choice, I would have done exactly what he did.
He was still a hero to me. Perhaps more so now than ever before.
Riuondo moved closer, his voice dropping to something almost intimate. "Once you've abdicated, once the power has transferred to me, who knows. I might leave you and your mate here to enjoy long happy lives."
"You'll kill us anyway." I didn't believe him for a second.
"Of course." He said it so casually, as if discussing the weather. "But at least this way, you have a choice. Abdicate, and I'll make it quick. Painless. Refuse..." He gestured to the neural stimulator. "And I'll make him suffer for days. Weeks, if necessary. Until you break."
I looked at Cullen. His face was set, determined. Down the bond, I felt his resolve—his willingness to endure whatever came. His silent plea for me not to give in.
Don't. Don't let him win.
I turned back to Riuondo and forced my voice to remain steady. "No."
For a moment, he just stared at me. Then he laughed—a sound devoid of humor.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
He activated the neural stimulator.
The device came alive with a high-pitched whine. Energy crackled along its probes as they extended toward Cullen's skull, stopping just short of contact. The air itself seemed to vibrate with violence.
"Last chance," Riuondo said. "Abdicate, or he suffers."
I dug deep inside myself, down to the core of discipline and control that had been forged through decades of leadership. I was the Prime. I was Vaktaire. I could maintain my composure.
I had to.
"No," I said again.
Riuondo's expression hardened. "So be it."
He pressed a control, and the neural stimulator engaged.
Cullen's body went rigid. His back arched against the restraints, every muscle locked in agony. His mouth opened in a silent scream—no sound at first, just the terrible sight of his face contorted in pain.
Then the sound came.
A raw, animal howl that tore through the chamber and straight into my soul.
Down the bond, I felt it. Not the full intensity—the bond didn't work quite that way—but enough. Enough to know that every nerve in his body was on fire. Enough to feel the echo of agony rippling through our connection like shockwaves and the slamming of his heart in his chest.
My own body jerked in response. The restraints held me in place, but I couldn't stop the involuntary reaction. Couldn't stop the way my heart raced, the way my breath came in pained gasps.
I had ordered executions without flinching. Had watched soldiers die under my command and maintained the cold calculation necessary to lead. Had made decisions that condemned thousands to save millions, and I had done it with steady hands and a clear voice.
But this was different.
This was Cullen.
My mate.
The control I'd spent a lifetime building—the iron discipline that had carried me through wars and political machinations, through betrayals and impossible choices—it shattered like glass. Not slowly, not with warning. Just... gone.
Because every scream that tore from his throat ripped through me with equal force. Every convulsion of his body echoed in mine via our synchronized heartbeat, I felt his pain like a phantom limb, like my own nerves were burning even though the stimulator wasn't touching me.
I had never felt so utterly, devastatingly helpless.
My vision blurred. My breath came in ragged sobs. The careful mask I wore as Prime—the one that had never slipped—crumbled to nothing.
This was the weakness Riuondo had been searching for. The one vulnerability I couldn't armor against.
"Stop!" I shouted. "Stop it!"
Riuondo didn't even look at me. He just watched Cullen with clinical interest, adjusting the controls to increase the intensity.