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Rachel rested against me and I hurried my pace through the long, empty corridors. The dark green striping along the base of the wall and in the center of the floor gave way to a dark orange and that faded to a subtle cream once we reached the living quarters of the base. The suite of rooms I now entered was new to all three of us. Prior to my mating, I’d lived in a small, two-room area above Base 3’s command center so I could be close to the action if the need arose.

But now I was grateful for the much larger living area. When the door slid open and I carried my mate inside for the first time, contentment settled over me. I set Rachel down on her feet and let her wander around the room, exploring the space.

Our new home. For the first time since I’d been banished to the Colony, I felt like I had a home. A family.

Her gaze flicked to mine, once, then again. Could she sense my feelings through her collar? The soft smile that she gave me as she glanced at me over her shoulder after peeking into the bedroom said she could. It was reassuring to know that she could understand me—as much as anyone could a governor of a banished group of warriors.

Rachel’s hand smoothed over the back of a large brown sofa. There were two in the room, settled facing one another. A workspace and chair was set against the wall just below the comm screen that was nearly as tall as my bride. In the far corner of the room, the S-Gen unit sat, waiting to answer my mate’s every command, to create anything she desired. And if she wanted something that had not been programmed into our system, I would find a way to get it for her.

Anything. I would give her anything.

A small dining area was off to the side, but most took their meals in the common rooms and cafeterias, meals often the only time many interacted with others during their workday. And the Colony warriors did work. We ran some of the deepest, most dangerous mines in the solar system. We monitored Hive activity and fed intel on all member worlds back to Prillon. We were analysts and builders, programmers and battle-hardened commanders. We planned battle strategy and monitored the front lines for shifts in Hive strategy. And we had every scientist, doctor and engineer on the planet working on a way to get rid of the implants that scarred us. That made us unfit. That denied us brides. Families. Lives outside this forsaken world.

But now, with my mate walking around our new home with curious eyes, everything inside me shifted.

When I first put the collar on when I heard I’d been officially matched, I’d felt no change. Only the physical symbol of a match occurring was heavy about my neck. When Ryston donned his, I sensed his pride in being my second, at the collar’s confirmation and permanence of the decision. He was eager to meet our mate as well. I’d been able to filter his feelings and emotions from mine. They weren’t a heavy burden to carry along with my own. Perhaps it was because we were both male, or that we were warriors together, or even that we were Prillon. A similar history, a similar sense of tradition, rules and custom.

When Rachel affixed the collar about her neck in the processing center on Earth, accepting both of us as her matched mates, was something else entirely. It was as if I was being held down by the Hive, my emotions, my feelings, hell, my brain being tugged and pulled on.

The sensation of absorbing a mate’s wants and desires, her fears and disappointments was powerful and had my cock turning rock hard in an instant. The need to sink balls deep into her had been immediate and intense.

But that had been dampened when every bit of her frustration at her incarceration, her innocence and her need to prove it hit me next. That was followed by her indecisiveness of becoming our mate and leaving Earth.

What the fuck? I’d known she had refused the match, but she’d been in a prison, with bars. No freedom. I would save her from that as I’d saved Ryston and others from the Hive’s captivity.

It was all there, her emotions and anger, in my head, bombarding me and knocking on my defenses.

As governor, I was responsible for a large group of men, or rejects, on the Colony. They weren’t easy to rule, to organize into a peaceful society. Who could blame them for their defiance after what they’d been through? What we’d all been through? I’d built walls to keep my personal opinions at bay in order to rule without bias and to remain mindful of what was best for all.

Now? Hell, now I wanted to track down those who’d framed Rachel on Earth and rip their heads off. They were mere earthlings. It would be an easy task to eliminate any who made her feel…feel anything but joy.

But I hadn’t considered that my feelings would bombard her. I hadn’t considered that my own anger and frustration would be oppressive for her, or that she would misconstrue it as directed at her. Even if I hid my feelings to all that looked at me, she would know the truth beneath the façade. She would sense it. Feel it all as strongly as me.

And Ryston’s emotions as well. He was as much a warrior as I, therefore she had to handle both of us. How she wasn’t curled up in a ball on the floor with all the intensity hammering at her, I didn’t know.

She was not weak-willed. No, she was strong. Brave. Defiant. Beautiful.

I’d known the second I saw her behind those fucking prison bars that she was mine. I’d traveled ten light years for her and a row of weak metal bars was not going to keep me from her. While she had mere human strength, Ryston and I weren’t just Prillon warriors, but altered ones. We had the power of a Prillon plus the technology of the Hive. The bars were like twigs beneath our muscles.

But Rachel? She didn’t break under our intense scrutiny, the condemnation of her justice system, even the fucking Prillon doctor. She had a spine of Hive steel to match her gorgeous dark hair and pale skin. The top of her head just reached my shoulder, yet she had lush, full-figured curves that were perfect for mine and Ryston’s large hands. I’d met Prince Nial’s Earth mate, Jessica, before and knew of their physical characteristics. I was not surprised at her coloring and how it differed so drastically from mine. I was surprised, however, by my attraction.

Instant. Intense. So fucking powerful.

I thought I would find her attractive. Appealing. Fuckable. But I was not prepared to feel this…desperation.

I wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her, but I wanted her to want that from me. From Ryston. From both of us together.

Before we did anything with her—to her—I needed to ensure her concerns were met. Her objection to the doctor’s exam was absolute. I heard it from her lips. Felt it through the collar. Considered it not only from a governor’s ear, but from a mate’s heart.

She would not be subjected to the doctor’s exam. Rachel had been correct. Her fertility was not relevant. Subjecting her to a test I sensed was humiliating for her was not acceptable. As I told the doctor, Ryston and I would be the only ones to put things in her pussy. Our cocks, our fingers, our toys.

Her breathing sped and her gaze darted to mine then away once more and I realized she could feel my need. My lust. Yes, the collars worked quite well.

But I was not an animal. I’d never felt desire this strong, but my mate’s needs came before my own. I would wait as long as it took for her to be ready. The last thing in the universe I wanted was to push her too hard and scare her away.

Until she officially accepted me as her matched mate and allowed Ryston and me to take her in the claiming ceremony, she could walk away from us. She could choose another.

The thought was like an axe buried between my shoulder blades and I realized I wouldn’t survive losing her. I could have lived without hope for the rest of my life. But to have her here, my matched mate, the one female in the universe that was mine, and lose her? To make her unhappy? Push her into the arms of another warrior and his second?


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides: The Colony Science Fiction