Traitor Son (Empire of the Stars, #1)

by Melissa J. Cave

For my brother Daniel, who was listening to my stories before I was old enough to write them down.

Welcome to the Empire of the Stars series! The main story is already complete and will be published at six month intervals, so if you’re worried about beginning a story that has no end: don’t! It has already been written.

“You dance like a painted whore,”

Ophele’s veins might contain the divine blood of the Emperor, they were stained by her mother’s treason and irrevocably dirtied by her illegitimacy.

Ophele wanted to leave. She would have contracted with a demon if it promised to help her escape.

“Princess,” he growled. “Come out of there at once.” The head jerked. The light went out. And a moment later a pair of eyes peeped out of the shadows, round with terror. “Do you think you’re an owl?” he asked impatiently. “Get down here.”

“Nine times nine.” “Eighty-one.” She was quivering like a rabbit. Another trick. “Sixteen times sixteen.” She paused. Blinked. He could see the calculation running behind her eyes. “Don’t dare to lie to me,” he rumbled ominously, and she flinched, her head ducking. “Two hundred fifty-six,” she whispered. “How many copper sens to a sovereign?” “Twelve hundred.” “Spell ballistae.” She spelled it down to the tricky e. “Good enough,”

She would die. She would be the first person in recorded history to actually expire of mortification. He was a brute, he was a cruel, callous, heartless bully and a mean man. Snatching up her violated undergarments, she stuffed them into her bag, every jerk of her hands punctuating a growing list of adjectives.

Unfortunately, once she was packed, the only place she could go was back to that mean man.

But in her heart, she was not the Emperor’s daughter. She was the daughter of Rache Pavot, who had accepted her fate with grace.

“And another thing,” Miche added. “Tomorrow night.” “What about it?” “Get her wet and take it slow,” Miche advised, and made Remin choke on his wine. “No one’s going to be witnessing the consummation. Make sure she’s relaxed and enjoying it, don’t just jam it in.” “Miche.” “The Knights of the Brede have a reputation to uphold,” the knight said sternly, jabbing a finger at his lord.

She had to be bullied into accepting a second formal gown, but was willing to rob a tinker if it was books. The corner of Remin’s mouth twitched.

Stars, she was going to kill him. Remin stretched his legs, hurrying her toward the inn. He was a civilized man. He let her eat dinner.

That was a little too bold. Her face flushed. “Do it,” he whispered, angling his head to catch her thumb between his lips, his black eyes glinting like a proper demon of lust. “Whatever you were thinking.”

“Ophele,” he groaned. He was so close he was seeing stars in his peripheral vision, golden sparks like he was on fire, or maybe both of them were, blazing. “Ophele, wife—” “Yes, I am too, yes, yes,” she breathed, her back arching in a sudden spasm of pleasure, understanding him in a way that went beyond words because she was with him and the time was now.

He wanted to learn every inch of her. Her body fascinated him, her long, narrow waist, her slender legs, her sleek curving thighs. He wanted to taste every inch of her velvety skin, and lap at her round breasts. And he was wild to feel her mouth on him, though her shy kisses and caresses roused him so unbearably, he couldn’t endure it long before he wanted back inside her, and streaked her thighs white with his seed.

Remin Grimjaw had no mercy for traitors.

It was the first time that had ever happened to him. Just remembering it made the back of his neck feel hot. He was not going to stand here picturing his wife’s nipples while everyone in the valley was swearing to protect her honor.

“She was scared,” Miche said, without preamble. “I told you to take her home because she was scared, Rem, not so you could get her out of the way. I know you’re an idiot about women, but you’re verging on being cruel. If she’s scared, you stay with her until she’s not.” “My wife is not your business.” “You made her my business. And you’re my business too, you giant git.”

Not every man died a hero. Many men died to be planks in a bridge, or stones in a wall.

He loved her. He knew it. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. It was like flying and it was like drowning, beautiful and dreadful, and somehow inescapably inevitable.

“You remind me of a bear,” she whispered, her fingers stroking his high, arrogant cheeks. She loved every part of his face, from his tip-tilted eyes to his thick black brows, so quick to frown. “From the first day we met. Remember, when you pulled me out of the tree? You looked just like a bear, your hair, and your eyes. And you grumble like a bear. And I was scared, at first, but you were so nice that day in Granholme, and so I thought…” Her eyes went to the glass bear on the mantle above them, small and melancholy, with one large paw outstretched. “I like bears,” she whispered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I love you,” he murmured, and moved over her to kiss her. “Wife. Ophele. I love you.” “I love you,” she whispered back, tracing his cheek with a fingertip, and felt that her heart would burst with happiness as he nuzzled his face into her palm.

Carefully, he rolled onto his side to shape himself around her. He had never shared a bed with anyone before. It had always been too dangerous. It was strange, but pleasant. He just meant to enjoy the warm and lovely weight of her beside him, but the sound of her soft breathing lulled him, and he closed his eyes. Just for a few minutes. But he could learn this. He could learn to endure happiness.

“I will be a good lady to you,” she said finally. “And to your people. I will learn.” “We will both learn,” Remin agreed, and sealed it with a kiss.

There was time. This was only the beginning. Before him spread the wide valley, the distant villages whose fate he still did not know, and the devils that lurked in the shadows, waiting for nightfall. His own house was little more than a foundation and timber frame, but in time, it would shelter them all from wind and rain. In time, he would make it a home, and a garden for all his people. In time, it would hold the new family he would make with Ophele of Aldeburke, the woman that he loved. In time, it would be a beauty and wonder.