Epilogue #3
Makayla released me and we stared into one another’s eyes, sharing secrets without saying a word, as only best friends can. Finally, Makayla shrugged. “You know I don’t trust that computer. I don’t see how it can know who you will fall in love with.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be happy.” I smiled because even as I spoke the words, I realized they were true. I’d met so many honorable—and sexy—Prillon males on this planet, I couldn’t wait to have a couple warriors of my own.
“Always the optimist. What if you didn’t get a match? Or had to go to Rogue 5?” Makayla asked.
“Wouldn’t happen.” Those scary jerks with fangs had kidnapped us from Earth, shoved us on a dingy, cold ship, and off-loaded us into our new prison without a hint of conscience. If I had my way, their stupid planet—and that moon they lived on—would already be blown to bits.
Now you’re talking…
I told you to shut up.
I squeezed Makayla’s hand to reassure her. “The matching protocols would not put me with one of those wanna-be, vampire criminals. I would want to hit him with a baseball bat while he was sleeping, not sleep with him.”
“They aren’t vampires. Those fangs put stuff into their mates’ bodies. They don’t suck blood out.” Makayla sounded…intrigued by the idea. Was she insane?
“Don’t care. Fangs are too gross for me, and I like people who obey the law.” I’d had enough chaos to last a lifetime. What I craved was order and routine, knowing exactly what was going on around me and what tomorrow would bring. Steady. Predictable.
Boring. You hate boring.
I ignored her.
Certainty was wonderful. I knew my new mates would be eager to sweep me off my feet and into their arms. They would definitely not be boring.
My mates would be hot. Sexy. I wanted them to take one look at me and barely be able to keep their hands to themselves, so I’d dressed up today, pulled out all the stops.
I had on a gorgeous dress made from a Prillon fabric that was unlike anything we had on Earth.
Like velvet and silk had a textile baby.
The gown was a dark, stormy blue. Fitted bodice, long, elegant skirt.
My eyes were the exact shade of blue to match.
Really made my eyes pop. So did the sapphire and silver necklace and earrings I wore.
On Earth, this dress and jewelry combo would probably cost tens of thousands of dollars.
Out here? It was just atoms and molecules made of random energy.
The little electrons—or whatever—floated around in space until they were locked into shape by the aliens’ Spontaneous Matter Generators, or S-Gen machines.
Those machines created anything I could think to ask for, from diamonds to lasagna, out of thin air.
At least that’s what it looked like to me.
I didn’t care about the science behind it, I only cared that it worked.
I loved the bright silver, glittery polish I’d painted on my nails. The matching blue ribbon braided into my long, blonde hair. I looked like a princess. Every. Day. Because I could, and because it made me feel royal. Watched over. Untouchable.
Like you’re not a threat. Like you need protecting.
I do.
Inner me snorted in disagreement. I ignored her. I was very, very good at ignoring her.
I’d been through enough—horror—to last a lifetime. Moping around, wearing black and feeling sorry for myself was not my style. At first, after the rescue, dressing up had been a coping mechanism. Now, looking like I’d stepped out of a fashion magazine was simply part of my life.
Especially today. I was going to meet my matched mate, the alien of my dreams, the one I was destined to spend the rest of my life with.
And his second. My second mate. I wanted them to take one look at me and want me.
I’d heard these alien males when they acted all growly and protective.
I’d met Queen Jessica and her two huge, scary mates, Prime Nial and a scarred, frightening warrior named Ander—who I secretly thought was the sexiest damn warrior I’d ever seen. So freaking big and scary.
No one would dare threaten the queen, not with those two—and an entire planet of warriors—to protect her. Now that I’d been matched, I was officially a citizen of Prillon Prime. The whole planet of vicious fighters was mine, too.
And, hopefully, in a matter of hours, I would have this gorgeous gown literally torn off my body in a wild display of uncontrollable lust, by both my mates.
At the same time. Two of them. I’d be pressed between them, filled to bursting with two huge cocks, riding wave after wave of orgasmic delight.
It was soooooo insanely hot to imagine. Incredible, and naughty. I wanted both of them right now.
I still couldn’t believe it. I’d actually been matched to a Prillon warrior. Officially matched by the Interstellar Brides processing protocols. My new mate was still fighting, out in space. On a ship. He was a commander.
He would be even more powerful and dominant than other warriors. Perhaps one of my mates would be bossy, and the other gentle? Or both perfect gentlemen, until we took our clothes off? Maybe they would demand sex every night? Or every morning? Both? Oh my god. Yes.
Two mates.
The bride testing—a simulation of some kind—was sensual, to say the least. Somehow, the alien computer made one feel like every touch, every word, sound and feeling was real.
An erotic image from the sexual vision I’d just experienced filled my mind.
A shiver of raw lust moved through me and landed in my still throbbing core.
I was still wet. The orgasm I’d had at the end of the test only made me hungry for more.
The Prillon mating collars—and the psychic link they created between mates—took normal lust and turned the volume up to eleven.
I would feel my desire, and my mates’—at the same time.
Oh, heck yes. I was ready for lots of mind-blowing private time with two hot mates. Sooooo, ready. To be fucked. Adored. Protected and cared for. Anything I needed, they would provide. They would know what I wanted because we would all three be linked.
Two Prillon warriors totally devoted to me—in life, and in bed?
So very, very naughty. I squirmed, just a bit.
I couldn’t keep the restless need from escaping.
I hadn’t been touched by a man in so long.
I tried to recall the last time—before the—before that.
I could barely remember my last date with a human man, it had been years.
“The transport window is closing, my lady. If we wait much longer, I will need to delay your departure.” The Prillon warrior in control of the transport pad interrupted Makayla’s long goodbye.
“Of course. So sorry.” I gave Makayla one final, super-tight hug, and walked up the few stairs to join my soon-to-be transported suitcase so we could be flung across the galaxy.
The officer nodded, his large hands moving competently over the controls.
Would my mates touch me with that level of intense concentration?
Were their hands that big? That skilled?
What was wrong with me? I was thinking like a horny teenager.
“Are you ready, my lady?” The transport officer had kind eyes. He knew where I was going. And why. I nodded.
Makayla waved good-bye as the hum of the transport pad rose from the floor like an electricity bath. The extra energy building up for my jump through space made me squirm like a shelter puppy about to be released from its cage. Finally free.
Oh, yes. I was ready to meet my new mate.
Commander Zarren Helion.
Even his name sounded formidable.
I just knew he was going to be one hundred percent perfect.
***
Commander Zarren Helion, Intelligence Core, Black Fleet, Sector 438
The Prillon warrior sitting before me bled from multiple wounds, none fatal, each strategically placed to inflict maximum pain. Lieutenant Oberon Arcas of Prillon Prime was one stubborn fucking warrior.
I have to break him.
I’d tracked him down, taken his ship, and captured him for one reason: information.
I needed to know where this traitor intended to go inside Hive controlled space.
Who he had made arrangements with to help him get there.
More important than either of those things, how he’d acquired the detailed map and technical schematics of a Hive stronghold that wasn’t on any of our star charts.
Why it was printed, ink on paper, of all fucking things?
The Interstellar Coalition of Planets hadn’t used paper to store data in… how long? I wasn’t sure. A millennia?
Either he was working directly with the enemy, or he’d paid for them, bought them from someone with contacts inside the Hive. Someone behind enemy lines.
“Who gave you the plans?” He was going to tell me exactly where that Hive base was located, and how he knew the facility existed at all.
Information even I, leader of all Coalition’s intelligence operations, did not have….
“Fuck you, Helion. We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Who gave them to you? How much did you pay to acquire them?”
“Give me a ReCon team.”
“There is no one to rescue. Where is the Hive base?”
“I’ll tell you that after the prisoners have been freed.”
“The Hive do not take prisoners, they integrate us into their Hive mind and send us out to kill our own families, our own people. You know this, Arcas. Whatever prisoners were taken are already dead.” Apparently, some warriors had trouble listening, or accepting the truth.
“I know you want to believe she’s still alive, but I assure you, she is gone from this life.
I’m sorry, but you must accept the truth. ”
“I don’t trust you, or your Hunters.”
“My best Hunter searched for over a month. She’s dead, Oberon.”
“Give me a ReCon team. When I’ve seen for myself, I’ll give you exact coordinates and you can blast the place out of existence. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To turn the Hive into ash and dust?”