Fighting For Their Mate. Grace Goodwin

Fighting For Their Mate - Grace Goodwin


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lifted her helmet and looked at me, a slight shimmer in her eyes as she stared at the felled Atlan. “Why did you do that, Seth? Why did you have us save him?”

      “Because he’s my friend.” One of the few still alive, if being implanted with Hive technology could be considered living. But at least now he’d have a chance. The docs could remove most of the tech and send him to live on The Colony. He’d never fight again, but at least he’d survive.

      He might hate me for it. I knew that on a gut level. But I’d seen too much death. He’d just have to fucking get over it. Get tested for a mate, like my sister, Sarah, had talked me into last year. In a moment of weakness, full of whiskey and reminiscing about home, I’d given in and let her take me to the testing center for her Christmas present. She was so in love with her matched mate, Warlord Dax, that I simply couldn’t tell her no. She’d risked everything to save my life. Denying her was not an option.

      The testing? Yeah, that had been a huge mistake. First, it had been a year since I’d sat in that stupid chair and still no match. Second, I doubted I’d survive until the end of my tour long enough to get one. And if I did get matched before my service was up, leaving a grieving widow was not something I wanted to do. A pregnant wife? A child? No fucking way. Because if I had a mate, I’d want it all, but that was impossible. That was beyond cruel. I couldn’t be that selfish.

      Sarah didn’t understand. She lived a different life. Warlord Dax had retired once they were mated and the two of them settled into civilian life on Atlan. They were wealthy, living in a massive home with servants and accolades for his time in the Coalition Fleet. They hosted dinner parties and played with their daughter. A different life and not one I could offer any woman.

      Dorian crouched down next to me and I lifted my gaze to meet his. “You are one crazy bastard, Mills.”

      I couldn’t help it, I grinned. It wasn’t the first time Dorian had said those exact words to me, and I doubted it would be the last.

      “Thanks for saving my life. And what’s left of my crew. How long do we have before my ship explodes?” Dorian asked, wiping his brow.

      I glanced at the countdown in my helmet’s visor. “Two minutes.”

      He grinned back at me. “Plenty of time.”

      Moving in teams, we rushed to the emergency evacuation shuttle, six Prillon warriors carrying the unconscious Atlan between them. The transport rooms would be crawling with Hive and we didn’t have time for another fight.

      Dorian threw himself into the pilot chair and I stood behind him as Trinity took the seat to his right. She was a flyer. I wasn’t.

      The two went through their checks in seconds and my knees buckled for a moment as the shuttle detached from the freighter. The shift caused anyone not strapped in to lose their balance.

      “Clear?” Dorian asked.

      “Clear,” Trinity confirmed, her hands moving over the controls with practiced skill. I was too tired to even try to follow her actions. The shuttle lurched forward as the blast caused by the freighter exploding hit us from the side, throwing me into the control panel behind Dorian.

      Alarms sounded from the wall to my left and Dorian reached back with an irritated flick of his wrist. “Don’t touch anything, Mills.”

      “Shut up and drive,” I grumbled back.

      He chuckled and Trinity’s shoulders relaxed, the tension in the air draining away as we moved farther and farther from the wrecked remains of the Hive occupied freighter.

      When we were back in safe space, within the protection zone offered by Battlegroup Karter’s patrols, Trinity reached for the communication panel. “This is ReCon 3 for the Karter.”

      “Battleship Karter. Status ReCon 3.”

      Trinity looked at Dorian, who sighed. “We lost eight crew and all the cargo on the freighter.”

      “Seven survivors?” She was right, and she knew it. Hell, it wasn’t hard to count that high. I’d been surprised that seven had held out as long as they did.

      When Dorian nodded, she relayed the information to the control deck on the Battleship Karter. No doubt, Commander Karter himself was listening over the communication officer’s shoulders.

      “This is Commander Karter.”

      Hearing his voice had me rolling my eyes. Yup, he was listening.

      “I’d like to know the status of Captain Seth Mills.”

      Trinity looked up at me, shocked. That was a first, Karter asking after a specific member of the crew. I leaned forward and she nodded that I could go ahead and speak. “I’m here, Commander.”

      “Excellent.” There was a shuffling sound and Commander Karter spoke again, but his voice was quiet, as if he was speaking to someone behind him. “Tell Earth to go ahead and initiate transport.”

      “Earth?” I asked.

      “Your matched mate will arrive in a matter of hours, Captain. Congratulations.” The commander sounded pleased, but my heart was like a lead weight in my chest as my body filled with dread. Oh shit. Battling a Hive integrated Atlan hadn’t been as bad as this.

      An Interstellar Bride.

      From Earth.

      “Send her back,” I blurted.

      Dorian turned in his seat and pulled off his helmet, his golden eyes huge with shock. “What the fuck are you talking about, Mills? A bride is a gift.”

      “Not for me.” I looked at the control panel as if I could will the commander to obey me. “Send her back, sir. I can’t accept a bride.”

      “That is not your choice to make, Captain.” The commander’s voice was hard now, all levity gone at my response to what any Prillon warrior would accept with great joy. “You have been tested and assigned a matched mate. Your bride will have thirty days to accept or reject you. The choice is out of your hands. Your mate has all the power now, Mills. I suggest you get back to the Karter and have your head examined. Dock 3.”

      “Yes, sir.” Dorian responded half a second before the line went dead. He turned to Trinity. “Can you take us in?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Do it.” He stood and grabbed me by the arm and tugged me out of the cockpit area. “Mills, come with me.”

      2

       Chloe Phan, Interstellar Bride Processing Center, Miami

      Lips roamed over my belly. My bare belly. A soft brushing and then a flick of the tongue. Heat swamped my senses and I felt the rough shock of whiskers as he turned his head, his breath fanning across my sweaty skin.

      My fingers were tangled in his hair. When had I done that? I didn’t remember sliding them through the silky strands. Tugging. Then again, I didn’t remember a guy being on his knees before me, learning my taste, my feel.

      “I can smell your desire.”

      My scent. Holy shit, his hands cupped my bare bottom and pulled me in so his mouth could go…there.

      “Oh!” I cried. My vocabulary was gone. Why? Because he had a very skilled tongue.

      “Step nice and wide for me, mate. I want access to this pussy of mine.”

      The growl was rough. Deep. Etched with sharp arousal.

      Unlike guys I’d been with in the past who hadn’t found my clit with a headlamp and a compass, he found it with laser precision, flicking over the swollen flesh ever so lightly. Just the slightest slide on the left, across the top and back and my head fell back in surrender.

      I


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