Chapter 5
GEMMA
“The female cannot stay,” the warlord said. He had black hair sprinkled generously with silver. One horn stood tall, the other shorn in a clean cut, and he was clearly not having it.
“What? No!” Emmarae and Gemma exclaimed at the same time.
Gemma wouldn’t go back to Earth. She refused.
“If the female is to remain, she must be matched.”
“What? No! Gemma will just be sent somewhere else,” Emry protested.
“It is possible her match is here.”
Gemma doubted that. It’d be a stroke of unfathomable luck if she were randomly matched with someone on the same ship, and she had terrible luck.
“But we just found her! She was stolen,” Emry said. “Taken against her will. They were going to sell her. She needs time to recover from her trauma. I need time! I can’t lose her again.” Emry gasped, fighting back sobs.
Gemma took Emmarae’s hand and squeezed. She had a plan, both terrible and impulsive. She could leave it up to chance and be stuck with some rando, or she could take some control back.
“What if I pick someone? Can I pick the guy, or does it have to be random?” she asked.
A moment elapsed as the warlord considered this. “If a male would volunteer to be your mate, yes.”
“Zalis. I pick Zalis.”
ZALIS
“I pick Zalis,” Gemma announced.
A freeze rushed over him, as if he plunged into a pool of icy water.
The warlord, the warlord’s mate, and others whom Zalis did not recognize waited in the hangar when he and his crewmates arrived.
A crowd was never a good sign. The mission had been successful, but judging from the warlord’s serious expression, congratulations were not forthcoming.
The warlord would expect a debriefing, but he seldom met returning squads in the hangar.
He did not like it. The crowd was too large, and they were all watching him.
This was worse than plunging into icy water. That was being submerged and held down until his lungs burned.
“Me?” he managed to ask with what little breath he had available.
The warlord had been firm in his stance of not allowing unmated females onboard the Judgment. Emmarae and Ren had pleaded for Gemma to remain. The warlord’s mate had pointed out a few exceptions, but Zalis agreed with the warlord.
This was not a pleasure vessel. It was a warship. Suhlik aggression was increasing. What had been the occasional skirmish would now become frequent conflict. Keeping everyone safe and fed would be difficult enough without adding extraneous people.
No matter how he personally felt about that extraneous person.
Gemma would return to Earth. Zalis would miss his bright spot of sunlight. Their fate was unavoidable.
Then Gemma spoke and changed their fate.
She took her sister’s hand and said, “It’s okay. What if I pick someone? Can I pick the guy, or does it have to be random?”
The warlord paused to contemplate. “If a male would volunteer to be your mate, yes.”
Gemma said, “Zalis. I want Zalis.”
Him. She chose him. Zalis had always known he would be assigned a mate, selected based on genetic compatibility.
He dreamed of having a loving relationship like his parents shared.
A real mating of affection and regard, not obligation and base instinct.
Perhaps one day, he and his match could grow into a real mating, but they would start as strangers to each other.
Except they weren’t strangers. Not entirely.
A single conversation did not make for anything more than acquaintances.
Yes, he held her hand to make her feel safe.
This outburst was nothing more than a frightened female wanting security.
Zalis stood taller than most of the other warriors in the hangar.
He was larger than most as well. He was the logical choice.
He should not read anything more into a very pragmatic decision.
Refusing her meant her return to Earth. Had the Earth authorities arrested her abductors? Unlikely. They failed to investigate when she went missing. Returning to Earth without protection was a bleak prospect.
Yes, this was a purely logical request on her part.
“Gemma, you don’t have to do this,” Emmarae protested. She clutched her twin sister’s hand.
“No, I do, and it’s fine,” Gemma said. Then, to his amazement, added, “I like Zalis.”
“You don’t know him.”
Completely valid.
“He’s sweet. Goofy,” Gemma said, which was less valid. Zalis did not consider himself goofy.
“This is stress talking. You don’t mean this. She doesn’t mean this,” Emry repeated in a louder tone, speaking to all present.
“Emry, enough.” Gemma moved to Zalis’ side. “Those assholes sold me. Sold. Me. Like a piece of meat. I’d be lucky if I ended up in a brothel, but we both know I’d likely end up dead. I know Zalis. I like him. He won’t hurt me, and this way we’ll get to be together.”
She liked him. Her choice was more than cold logic. There was some hope for a real mating, and that filled him with a hyperkinetic sensation, strong enough to rattle his horns and vibrate out of his skin.
“Zalis? What do you think?” Gemma asked.
“So much.”
For no rational reason—not fear nor a need for comfort—he reached for her hand. She was small compared to him, but he felt the strength in her.
A discreet cough pulled him back to himself. All eyes were on him.
“The decision is yours,” the warlord said.
GEMMA
Gemma panicked. She could accept that. She refused to go back to Earth and grabbed onto the nearest thing that looked like a life preserver.
Zalis. The poor guy stood there, stunned.
And yes, the irony of volunteering to marry an alien when she had so desperately railed against exactly that wasn’t lost on her. Except she picked the guy, which meant she had some control in an otherwise out-of-control situation.
At least she knew Zalis. Well, they had a total of three conversations, so she didn’t know him well. At least he wasn’t a complete stranger.
Unless he told her to get lost.
Honestly, fair.
When she reached for his hand, he didn’t jerk away, so that was promising.
All eyes were on them. When all of this was said and done, when her heart had a chance to calm down and she was no longer in survival mode, she’d have a proper freakout.
There were a lot of people staring. Judging.
The warlord with his one horn was particularly judgy.
The human woman, his wife, seemed kind. There were other faces, but they didn’t register.
She wouldn’t be able to recognize them if she saw them again.
Truthfully, once Gemma’s heart calmed down, she doubted she’d be able to remember anything about the incident.
Zalis squeezed her hand, grounding her in the moment.
“I accept,” he answered.
The warlord looked angry, then tired, but maybe that was just his face. “Very well. Take the volunteer bride to Medical for a full exam and necessary paperwork.”
The woman standing beside him jabbed him with her elbow, the smile never wavering on her face.
“Congratulations on your mating,” the warlord added.