The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

Liam got his phone back twenty minutes after beginning the argument, which meant that, according to every standard of conflict he considered relevant, he had won.

The battery had reached twenty-one percent, the isolated Nurian charging unit had been placed beside it with three pages of operating restrictions, and Engineer Selkis had included a precise report detailing every conversion ratio they had tested, the minor temperature rise they had recorded, and the adjustments she recommended before the device was connected again.

Liam liked her already.

He now sat in the middle of the sitting room with the black lacquered case resting on the low table before him, his phone positioned on a stand to record the original configuration from above. The blanket remained around his shoulders, although he had exchanged Arik’s lap for a heavily cushioned chair after promising the physician that he would stay seated.

The collar waited inside the unopened case.

Honestly, Liam was beginning to suspect that he was more curious about Goliath’s taste in jewelry, and what that taste might reveal about the parts of him that had become Arik, than he was about the actual mechanism.

Arik stood directly behind his shoulder, still frowning.

"Do not glare at me," Liam said without looking back. "You are affecting the lighting."

"I am not glaring."

"The gold reflecting from the walls says otherwise."

"That is the palace."

"The palace has learned your moods."

"That is one of the reasons I have not taken the oath."

Liam adjusted the angle of his phone, checked that the entire case remained within the frame, and then looked over his shoulder.

"Take it."

Arik’s expression did not change, but the bond tightened between them.

Liam turned back toward the case.

"You want to," he continued. "Another nine days will not add anything useful to what is already happening around us. The doors are closed or hidden, the Gate disappeared after we crossed it, and every system that matters recognizes you only enough to remind everyone that you are Goliath without giving you the authority to solve anything. My guess is that you can open the Gates only after you become emperor with full sovereign rights."

One of Arik’s brows rose.

"What tells you that?"

"You are Goliath reborn."

"That is not an explanation."

"I think Goliath knew that whoever eventually returned here would carry his soul, and he knew exactly how to force that person’s hand."

Arik’s frown deepened. "You believe I trapped myself."

"I believe Goliath trapped you."

"There is supposedly no distinction."

"There is an important emotional distinction."

Arik moved around the chair until he stood between Liam and the table, forcing Liam to look up at him.

"The oath is not a ceremonial declaration," he said. "It would open my channels entirely to the sovereign core."

"You do not possess ordinary channels."

"The core does not appear concerned by technicalities."

"That makes two of you."

Arik ignored that. "It would recognize me as Nuria’s emperor in more than name. I would gain full command of the palace, the defensive network, the borders, the military seals, and possibly the Gates. In return, the core would bind me to preserve the empire."

"Which you are already doing."

"It could prevent me from acting against Nuria."

"Do you intend to?"

"No."

"Then that particular restriction is not currently burdensome."

"It could prevent annexation into Agaron."

Liam’s expression grew more serious.

Arik continued before he could answer. "It may also compel me to return if Nuria is threatened. It could recognize decisions made for Agaron as hostile if they disadvantage this empire. When I inherit my father’s throne, I could be bound to two sovereign systems with conflicting interests."

"That is a genuine problem," Liam conceded. "But only if we manage to return to our world—or find a way to bring Nuria back with us. At present, we cannot do either."

"That does not make the consequences irrelevant."

"No, but it changes which consequences are urgent." Liam studied him for a moment. "And before you begin worrying that our bond or a possible child would somehow confuse the core, Goliath had two omega consorts and two sons. Nuria’s sovereign system was built to recognize his mates and heirs."

Arik’s expression darkened.

"Silas and Lucien," he said.

Their names settled heavily between them.

Fragments of grief moved through the bond, not entirely Arik’s, but no longer separate from him either.

Liam tightened his fingers around Arik’s hand.

"The core did not reject them," he continued more quietly. "Felix killed them. That is not the same thing as the system being unable to support a sovereign’s family."

"No," Arik agreed. "It is worse."

"Yes. But it means a pregnancy would not create some unprecedented conflict with Nuria. The core already knows how to recognize an heir."

"That does not mean I want it reaching into your body without permission."

"It would probably recognize the child through your ether rather than interfere with me directly."

"Probably."

Liam sighed. "You are becoming attached to that word only when it supports panic."

"It is a useful word when no one can give me certainty."

"Then apply it evenly."

Arik’s gaze remained fixed on him.

Liam continued, "The real danger is not that the core might recognize me or a child. It is what the oath could demand from you once it recognizes you completely."

"That is what I have been saying."

"No. You have been listing every possible disaster until the decision becomes suffocating. I am trying to separate the actual risks from the ones you are inventing because you are afraid of wanting this."

The bond tightened.

Arik withdrew his hand, but Liam caught his wrist before he could move away.

"I want Nuria more than I want to keep Agaron," Arik said.

Liam went still.

Arik looked directly at him, allowing neither the words nor the emotions beneath them to be mistaken.

"The council threatening to kill me if I refuse has done nothing to influence that decision." A dark chuckle escaped him. "If anything, it made me want to dismantle the council before accepting anything they offered."

"That part was obvious."

"Cecil would be a good emperor."

The words landed more heavily than anything Arik had said about the oath.

Liam’s fingers loosened around his wrist, though he did not release him.

"You have already considered giving him the succession."

"I began considering it before we crossed the Gate."

"Because of Goliath?"

"Because I never wanted Agaron’s throne as much as everyone assumed I did." Arik glanced toward the windows, where the hidden empire stretched beyond the glass. "I accepted that it would be mine. I trained for it, obeyed my fathers, attended councils, commanded troops, and prepared to inherit because that was what my birth required. Acceptance is not the same as desire."

"And Nuria is?"

Arik did not answer immediately.

The bond answered for him.

The palace pressed against his ether with the intimacy of a body recognizing its missing heart. Its damaged wards, sealed districts, exhausted people, and hollowed sovereign core had settled into him with every hour they spent there. Agaron remained home—his parents, his brother, his soldiers, and the life Arik had built—but Nuria pulled at something older and deeper without feeling foreign.

"Yes," he said at last. "Nuria is desire."

Liam studied him.

"Then why are you still pretending the oath is undecided?"