The Empress

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The thrilling sequel to S.J. Kincaid's New York Times bestselling novel, The Diabolic that TeenVogue.com called “the perfect kind of high-pressure adventure.”
It's a new day in the Empire. Tyrus has ascended to the throne with Nemesis by his side and now they can find a new way forward—one where they don't have to hide or scheme or kill. One where creatures like Nemesis will be given worth and recognition, where science and information can be shared with everyone and not just the elite.
But having power isn't the same thing as keeping it, and change isn't always welcome. The ruling class, the Grandiloquy, has held control over planets and systems for centuries—and they are plotting to stop this teenage Emperor and Nemesis, who is considered nothing more than a creature and certainly not worthy of being Empress.
Nemesis will protect Tyrus at any cost. He is the love of her life, and they are partners in this new beginning. But she cannot…

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How I weakened him. He was so controlled in the face of every setback—except for the prospect of my destruction. I was his weakness just as he was mine, and if anything could override his good sense, it was his fear for me.
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One bed.

Tyrus stared a moment. So did I.

Of course, we were publicly engaged. And this was . . . this was normal.

A heat stole under my skin, and I darted a quick glance at Tyrus, caught him doing the same to me. We hadn’t yet shared a bed.

“There looks to be an exquisitely comfortable couch . . . ,” he said.

“You wish me to take it?” I said.

“No, I’d take it, of course.”

“There’s no ‘of course’ to that, Tyrus. You’re the Emperor of the galaxy.”

“I will take it,” he repeated.
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He’d try things to be diplomatic, but every morning he had the exact same breakfast, and generally one of the three same lunches. He had several such benign neuroses, like his need to always sit with his back to the wall, or to complete an even number of kilometers whenever he ran. Weights had to be lifted in sets divisible by ten, and if he fell a few short due to an interruption, he would always find his way back to the exercise chamber just to get in the final few he’d missed or it would “vex him all day.” That sort of thing.
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