Chapter 3
three
ALIANA
After Counselor Patel’s debriefing, I was escorted to my “acclimation suite” by a nervous attendant who couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Rakthar.
I pretended to listen to her explanations about the amenities and schedule, but all I could focus on was the coiling pit of anxiety sprinkled with a healthy dose of quiet indignation in my stomach.
Sixty-eight hours until I was bound to a male I’d never agreed to. A male who thought he could just claim me like a prize at some barbaric contest.
No. Absolutely not. I was going to give this presumptuous orc a piece of my mind.
I knew where they’d taken him. The attendant had mentioned that my “mate” would be in the bonding prep chamber down the hall. It was supposed to be a space where matches could become acquainted before the ceremony.
Acquainted. As if a few hours were enough time to decide you wanted to spend your life with someone.
I didn’t bother changing out of my regulation dress or fixing my hair, which had become even wilder during my agitated pacing. Let him see me disheveled and furious. Let him see exactly what he was getting.
The bonding prep chamber wasn’t hard to find. It was the only door in the hallway with ornate carvings from various non-human cultures, intertwined in a way that was probably meant to be artful but just looked busy.
I didn’t knock. I slammed my palm against the access panel and stormed in like a hurricane making landfall.
The room was designed for “comfort and intimacy,” according to the Sanctuary brochures. Low, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over plush seating areas, a small dining nook, and an oversized bed draped in silk.
I ignored the heat that flamed my cheeks.
The air was infused with something floral and spicy, supposedly to “enhance pheromone recognition.” The whole setup felt like a science experiment dressed up as a luxury date.
Rakthar lounged on a massive couch in the center of the room, his hulking frame making the furniture seem almost dainty despite its reinforced construction.
He didn’t rise when I entered. Didn’t even look surprised, which was kind of irritating in and of itself. As if he expected me.
A goblet that looked tiny in his enormous hand was raised halfway to his lips, filled with something dark and potent-smelling.
“You,” I snarled, stomping toward him with all the intimidation factor of an angry Chihuahua. “You have some nerve.”
One thick eyebrow ridge rose slightly. “I have many nerves. It’s part of having a body.”
His literal interpretation of my idiom caught me off guard for a split second before my anger re-surged. “Don’t play dumb with me. You think you can just fight some combat trial and suddenly I’m yours? I’m not a—a territory to be conquered! I’m a free thinking woman who had plans and expectations.”
Rakthar took an unhurried sip from his goblet, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you finished?”
“No, I am not finished!” I planted my hands on my hips, glaring up at him. Even seated, he was almost at my eye level. “I didn’t agree to this match. I was prepared for Urran—”
“Urran,” he interrupted, his voice a contemptuous rumble, “would have bored you to death within a moon cycle.”
“That was my choice to make!”
“Was it?” He set his goblet down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You entered the Monster Matrimony program. You chose safety over freedom. But did you really choose Urran? Or did some algorithm match you while you crossed your fingers and hoped for the best?”
His words hit uncomfortably close to home. I hadn’t chosen Urran specifically. I’d chosen the program, and the program had chosen him for me. Still, I wasn’t about to let Rakthar win this argument on a technicality.
“At least Urran didn’t presume to own me before we’d even met,” I shot back.
“Urran didn’t value you enough to fight for you,” Rakthar countered, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “I did.”
“You don’t even know me!”
Something shifted in his expression. He set down the goblet with a deliberate click and looked at me the way people look at things they’ve been thinking about for a long time.
“I know more than you think,” he said. “I know you’re strong-willed.
I know you’re not afraid to challenge a male twice your size.
” His gaze moved across my face. “I know your spirit burns bright, even in this sterile place designed to process you like livestock.” A beat.
“To be honest, I did not expect that. I had not prepared for that.”
The addition was quiet enough that I almost missed it. Almost. It was that same tone from the orientation room, the one that had derailed my anger the first time.
I did not expect you.
Join the club. I didn’t know what to do with a seven-foot warlord who looked rattled by my existence. It was deeply inconvenient.
“That doesn’t give you the right to—”
“Yell all you like, little mate,” he interrupted, settling back against the couch with infuriating calm. “I’ll still carry you home.”
Something in me snapped. The casual certainty in his voice, the way he’d already decided our future…it was too much. All too much.
I grabbed the nearest object, which was a decorative pillow embroidered with unity symbols, and hurled it at his face with all my strength.
Rakthar caught it one-handed, an inch from his nose. His lips pulled back in a tusked grin, and then he did something I wasn’t prepared for.
He laughed. A full-throated, genuine laugh that filled the room and vibrated through my chest.
“There she is,” he said, his eyes glinting with what looked suspiciously like delight. “The fire I sensed from the moment I saw your image.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m some thing you acquired and not a living sentient being in front of you!” I grabbed another pillow, but this time he moved faster than something his size should be able to, suddenly on his feet and towering over me.
His hand engulfed mine before I could throw the second pillow, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough calluses that scraped against my skin. “Not a thing,” he said, voice low. “A mate. An equal partner.”
I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm without being painful. “Equal partners don’t claim each other through combat.”
“In my world, they do.” He released my hand but didn’t step back. “Strength matters, Aliana. Not just the strength of arm, but the strength of will. Urran wanted a docile human to warm his bed and tend his crops. I want a mate who will challenge me, fight with me, rule beside me.”
His words sent an unwanted thrill through me. I’d prepared myself for a life of quiet domesticity with Urran. Resigned myself to it, matter of fact.
The possibility of something more, something that recognized the fire in me rather than trying to extinguish it, was disorienting.
“You can’t just decide that,” I said, but my voice lacked its earlier conviction.
“I already have.” His massive hand moved toward my face, hesitating just shy of touching my cheek. “And somewhere beneath that anger, you’re intrigued. I can smell it on you.”
Heat rushed to my face. Damn these non-humans and their enhanced senses. “That’s—that’s an invasion of privacy.”
Rakthar chuckled, a deep rumble that I felt rather than heard. “Should I apologize for noticing how your pulse quickens when I’m near? For sensing the heat that rises to your skin?”
His hand finally made contact, one rough finger tracing a line from my temple to my jaw. “Your body speaks truths your mouth denies.”
I jerked away from his touch, not because it was unpleasant, but because it wasn’t. “My body doesn’t decide for me.”
“No?” He stepped back, giving me space, though his presence still filled the room.
“Then what does, little Aliana? The Sanctuary system that would have paired you with a male who couldn’t even fight for you?
The algorithm that knows nothing of passion or power?
That likely responded to what you told it you wanted, rather than what you actually wanted. ”
His verdict sent a chill down my spine. Damn, I had no good answer for that. The truth was, I’d surrendered my choices the moment I signed up for the Monster Matrimony program. Answered whatever the hell I needed to in order to get myself safest, quickest.
In a world where unprotected humans were vulnerable prey, safety meant sacrifice—or so I’d thought.
He threw the second pillow back to me. Just tossed it lightly. I caught it by reflex.
“Sixty-eight hours,” he said. “That is what the Sanctuary gives you. Use them.”
I stared at him. “Are you telling me to take my time?”
“I am telling you to choose.” He held my gaze, and the smug certainty from before was gone—replaced by something stripped-down and direct.
“Eyes open. Not because of a clock or a system that leaves you no other option.” He picked up his goblet again, the gesture almost casual, but his eyes stayed on mine.
“I want you to look at me and decide. Whatever you decide.”
It was the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“And if I decide no?” I asked carefully.
His expression didn’t flicker. “Then I will honor it.”
I turned that over in my mind, testing its weight. I didn’t quite believe him—this was a male who had beaten another orc unconscious to stand in this room—but there was something in the way he said it that didn’t feel performative. Just factual. Uncomfortable. Inconvenient.
“Sixty-eight hours is not very long,” I said finally.
The corner of his mouth curved. Just slightly. “No. It is not.”
I threw the second pillow at him anyway, more out of principle than anger. This time he let it bounce off his chest. His laughter followed me out the door, warm and unhurried, settling under my skin like something I’d have to deal with later.