Fighting For Their Mate. Grace Goodwin
ghosts or television psychics predicting the future of their love lives. But the Hive threat in space? Me, working undercover in outer space? Me, fighting aliens and infiltrating enemy lines? Yeah, my co-workers would have had a good laugh at my expense.
Not that I could tell them much. Just like some personnel within the US armed services, everything was kept confidential. SEALs couldn’t say where they went on a deployment. Spouses couldn’t be told a location. Missions were kept secret. Top secret.
Especially the new technology being developed to disrupt the Hive communications frequencies. And people like me, who had a knack for listening to their chatter and deciphering what they were saying. I couldn’t explain how I did what I did, but I listened and sometimes the strange sounds just—clicked with my NPU in a unique way. There were others like me, but not many.
And one of them in particular, Bruvan, was wrong a lot. Too much. But he always managed to blame someone else. Blame the Hive for changing their plans.
Blame me.
He’d nearly gotten my entire team killed on the last mission, nearly killed me, and I’d been sent home, medical’d out, and he was out there still. Peddling his bullshit. Getting good warriors killed.
I had to bite my bottom lip to keep the anger in when the warden offered such a sympathetic ear. But I didn’t know her clearance level, and I wasn’t going to ask. “I really can’t say anything about it.”
The warden arched one dark brow and pursed her lips. “Well, it says you worked two deployments within the Intelligence Core, completing four years, before your return to Earth. You’ve been working as a 911 operator in your hometown. You’ve settled back into civilian life. Have a job. An apartment. Friends. And yet, you’ve decided to become a bride. Why?”
I frowned. “Does it matter? I’m here of my own free will.”
Glancing down at my wrists, they were restrained to the arms of the utilitarian chair by thick metal bands. “Although, being strapped to this chair doesn’t feel quite so voluntary.”
She looked at her tablet, swiped her finger and the restraints retracted into the chair. “They are for your safety during testing and to protect me from those who have been convicted of crimes. Until the testing is complete, they’ve consented to the match, and they arrive on their new home world, they are still prisoners.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my wrists, although they weren’t chafed. The move made goosebumps rise on my skin as I became chilled in the hospital-style gown I wore. Breeze on the bare backside? Wouldn’t want to miss that.
“You are far from a prisoner, Chloe. The opposite, most likely. I assume you have plenty of commendations on your record from the Coalition Fleet.”
“Fishing,” I said, forcing a smile from the woman.
“It’s like that, is it?” She sighed. “You can at least tell me why you’re volunteering.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been to space. I know the Coalition, the type of guys who are qualified to be tested for an Interstellar Bride. I also know myself. I’m from Earth, but four years in space has changed me. Earth isn’t the same anymore. I can’t speak of what I did. Even if I could, no one would believe me. I’m just…bored. I don’t belong here anymore.”
“Go back to the Intelligence Core.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked.
I tilted my chin indicating her tablet. “It doesn’t say on there I can’t go back?”
She looked down and scanned farther, moving her finger over the tablet several times. Reading the fine print, I guess. I’d never seen my own file. “Ah yes. It says you suffered injuries that make you ineligible for service. But it doesn’t say what those injuries were.” She raised a brow, waiting for me to clue her in.
“I was hurt on my last mission. I healed eventually, but I don’t want to ride a desk.” That was all I could give her. It was the truth. There was no need to tell her that I wasn’t allowed to return. They gave me the choice, retire or be forced out. They never expected me to want to go back.
I never expected to want to go back.
Maybe that head injury was worse than I thought. Maybe I was crazy for wanting to go back out into space. But, I wasn’t going back. At least, not to the same life. I knew the odds, and there wasn’t a chance I’d be matched and mated to Bruvan or anyone else I once worked with.
I didn’t like them enough.
But who was I matched to? I’d interacted with most of the alien races. Atlan. Prillon. Trion. I’d only met one Hunter from Everis, but he was sexy as hell. Any of them would be fine with me. And with that matching dream, two lovers, I was pretty sure I was headed to Prillon Prime. I needed to know. The curiosity was killing me. “Was I matched?”
Warden Egara stood, went around the table, slid into the metal chair. “You have been matched. And it’s a first for me.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve been matched to a human. A man from Earth.” She glanced at her tablet again. “It’s a ninety-nine percent match.”
I climbed from the chair, put my hands on my hips. “What? I’m not staying here.” I was here being tested so I could leave this planet, not to end up stuck here.
She shook her head. “No. You won’t stay here. You’re matched to an Earth Coalition fighter. He’s the captain of a ReCon Unit serving in a Coalition Battlegroup.”
“What sector?” I was still reeling from something, my feelings a jumble about this. A man. A human man. I liked men—humans—just fine. But after that hot dream, I’d been hoping for two, huge Prillon hunks to totally blow my mind.
“437. Battlegroup Karter.”
“Are you serious?” Sector 437 was a known hotbed of Hive activity. I’d heard of Battlegroup Karter. Some very high level tech had been taken from that sector. The first Hive Nexus unit had been trapped there and eliminated by another human woman I’d served with in the Intelligence Core. Meghan Simmons. She’d been a friend, until she’d mated that Atlan Warlord, Nyko, and moved into civilian life on Atlan. I was happy for her, but I’d been alone out there with a whole lot of testosterone after she left.
And then the ship I was on blew up. Bruvan laid the blame at my feet. That had been fun, and earned me a trip home.
But I didn’t belong here anymore. I felt like a stranger in my own town. I couldn’t relate to anyone. I couldn’t talk about what I’d done for the Coalition. I got up, went to work, fed the neighbor’s cat. Day after day.
I thought of the dream that was quickly fading. Two guys. Not one. Definitely not human. No guy I’d met was that skilled. Or maybe I just hadn’t met the right guy. “So, you’re sure I’m not making a huge mistake?”
“Very sure. If you accept the match, you’ll be transported to his location.”
I began to pace and lifted my arm to tuck a strand of long black hair behind my ear. I got the dark locks from my Vietnamese grandmother and I wished with everything in me that she was still alive. That any of them were. But other than a few cousins I saw once or twice a decade, I was on my own. “What if I don’t like him?”
“You have thirty days to decline the match and be reassigned.”
“You sure I’m matched to a human?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?” Her brows rose with more than idle curiosity and I wondered just how much she knew about the kinky fantasies she’d sent into my head in that testing chair.
I thought about the dream. There were two men touching me. Making me melt and want and burn. But I’d never considered that before, so I could adapt. One man was enough. I could love one man just fine. My perfect match. A human. At least he wouldn’t