Chapter One
Lotor found himself once again in his chambers; alone in the dark. His elixir sat in a crystal goblet on his night stand. He sneered at the pink translucent liquid inside, knowing what it would do to him. His father had made him take that horrible dram since he was a boy. He had called it his ‘mean potion’ then, not really knowing that the name was oddly appropriate. The elixir made him angry, it made him lash out, to his father’s delight.
But now, he didn’t want to take it anymore. He didn’t want anything his father had designed him to do. There was only one thing in the world that Lotor desired now. There was only one thing in the world that he couldn’t have.
Allura…
The princess was quite a distraction. He couldn’t pass a moment without thinking of her and now she even invaded his sleep with vivid dreams. There was no substitute for her exuberance, there was no other woman in the galaxy that could match her passion or her conviction. There was none other that was nearly as beautiful as the Princess of Altair.
He picked up his hated potion, his hands shaking as his body was eager to partake of the putrid liquid. He hated that he actually craved the drink now. His will wasn’t enough to be wicked without the stuff, or at least that’s what his father would have him believe.
Lotor lifted the goblet to his lips and drank quickly, ignoring the horrible taste. He stopped, leaving one last gulp of potion in the goblet. He knew he could leave no evidence of his treason and dumped the remainder in a vase at his bedside.
As the liquid filled his stomach and sent waives of adrenaline through his body, he fought to control it. The initial rush would subside but it was getting more difficult to control. He knew that the witch was strengthening his dose as his body grew accustomed to the dram.
Damn Haggar and damn his father. Damn Doom as well.
As a strategist, he knew that he would have to concede in certain areas where he could not succeed. He could not succeed in killing his father to take the thrown. He could not succeed in defeating Voltron with any robeast Haggar could create. He could not continue to take this elixer that clouded his judgment with rage and hatred, that distracted him from what he really wanted.
Again he thought of her, that beautiful angel in her pink satin dresses. He would pay any price to have her at his side. He would give anything to feel her relaxed in his arms and gazing up at him with those cornflower blue eyes.
He sighed, grabbing his console from his hip. He pressed the touch screen to bring the device to life and navigated through his files until he retrieved the photos of her. The image captured were rough but they were all he was able to get in the many scuffles he’d had with the Voltron. He stopped at the clearest picture of her in her flight suit from the last encounter he had with her.
His brief stint as a ‘good’ guy. It had been hard to be so close to her. It has been hard to focus. He was still under the effects of the potion and his will was not as strong as he would like to admit. More of his father’s manipulations had been at work then.
The crystal goblet shattered in his other hand as he thought about his blown opportunity. She had been talking to him, walking with him. He had been such a fool!
He shook out his hand as the crystal shards fell to the floor and he put away his console with his other hand. He stood and strode to his mirror.
The same face looked back at him. The same long white hair, the same yellow catlike eyes, the same blue skin. He scowled at himself. He wasn’t a pure Drule like his father. He was never going to be one of them but he wasn’t human either. Prince or not, he wasn’t a whole person.
What to do about it? He had asked himself that question many a time. He needed to be his own person for once. Not listening to the will of Zarkon or the Drule Supremacy. The only thing he wanted for himself was a human princess.
He wanted her willingly, he wanted her honestly. He wanted her to chose him, even if he had to manipulate the choice. He wanted to be first in the mind of someone who cared for him.
He smiled then. She had demonstrated her ability to choose before. He could really make it worth her while this time. He was after all, a brilliant strategist.
