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Chapter Nine

Kristin

“Something else? Like what?”

Hunt chuckled. “Like Governor Rone’s copper. Or Prime Nial’s dark red.”

I smiled back. “Maybe we should shake up his world a little bit.” I was mad, mad at Tyran for taking me so thoroughly and then walking away. Angry that he’d left me without explanation or a kiss good-bye. I wanted to push his buttons. He needed someone to push him and I was more than happy to do the job. I’d never backed down from a challenge before. I wasn’t about to start now. “I’ve always looked spectacular in red.”

My second swatted my naked bottom as I hurried to the shower. “The only thing red on you is going to be the color of your ass when we’re both done with you.”

Heat flared in my body of them taking control again, which made Hunt growl.

“Not today, mate. No pushing Tyran . He’d have my head. Once your collar is blue, you can have all the fun you desire tormenting your poor, helpless mate.” His gaze darkened as the water turned on, hot and steamy and smelling like heaven with a mix of cleansing agents they’d told me the water contained. “But you’d better be prepared to face the consequences.” He gave me another playful swat.

I stepped under the water with a grin on my lips. Consequences? Like a sound spanking? Or a bossy alpha male bending me over and filling me up? Or shoving me against the wall, ripping my clothes off and fucking me until I begged for release? Or perhaps ordering my second to hold me captive in his arms while Tyran filled me from behind? Oh, yes. I could live with consequences like that.

I bathed and dressed quickly, standing on the odd S-Gen pad, a smooth black structure in the corner of the living quarters. A bright green light scanned my body and I stepped down when Hunt told me to. To my delight and fascination, I watched as a matching set of pants, tunic and soft soled boots appeared on in the middle of the pad, as if they’d been transported from a store. They fit perfectly, the fabric clinging without being too tight, as if it had been made for me. The tunic had sleeves that fell to just above my elbows, the neckline was cut to highlight and draw attention to my collar, dipping and swirling just below the black ribbon, and the tunic fell to mid-thigh, covering my ass so I didn’t feel like all the junk in my trunk was going to be on display.

The clothes were, as Hunt insisted, the same dark midnight blue of his and Tyran’s collars, but I really didn’t mind. I liked knowing they wanted to shout to the world that I was theirs.

I was just pulling on the second boot when some kind of speaker next to the door exploded with sound.

“Captain Hunt! We need you now! There’s been an attack!”

I slammed my foot in the boot and stood as someone pounded on the door. Hunt waved his hand over the control panel and the door slid away to reveal four armed warriors in full armor, like Tyran had worn the day before. “Captain, the governor commands you and Lady Zakar to meet him in command. Now.”

“Is Lady Rone there?” I blurted, before Hunt could stop me. I assumed that I was Lady Zakar. Another change I’d have to get used to.

The warrior looked at me, his eyes drinking me in now that he had permission. He was staring, but not in a creepy way. More like fascination, or awe. Like I was a ghost or an angel about to disappear. “Yes, my lady.”

Hunt turned to me and I could see the order forming on his face. He was turning from gentle mate to hardened leader before my eyes. I shook my head, knowing what he was thinking. “Nope. No way, Hunt. I’m going. I was in law enforcement on Earth. I’m going, and I want one of those guns.” I motioned to the four guards, each of whom carried a full sized rifle of some sort. The warriors were all like my mates, Prillon, their skin ranging from dark gold to a dark brown, nearly the color of black coffee. They were huge and intimidating as hell. I really, really wanted that gun.

Holding out his hand to me, he relented. “I don’t have time to argue and the governor wants you there. Stay close.” He frowned. “But no gun.”

Satisfied, for the moment, I took his hand. But I eyed the thigh holsters on two of the warriors as we walked behind them down the hall. There were smaller, silver space guns of some kind strapped to their legs. They couldn’t be that much different than my standard issue Beretta. Before the day was over, one of them was going to be mine.

* * *

Tyran, Base 3, Command Room

Seeing my mate so happy meeting Lady Rone was the only thing keeping me from ripping the heads off of every male in the room as if I were an Atlan beast. I felt Kristin’s relief at meeting someone else from Earth, at not being the only female. I would remember this moment when we were too much for her. Two Prillon warrior mates would be a difficult transition even for a Prillon female. But one from Earth, where I knew the men were much smaller? I’d fought beside human warriors. They were brave and fierce, and at least a head shorter than either Hunt or myself.

Hunt and I had to be much more than Kristin probably expected.

But she’d done well with us, between us, taking our cocks and staking a claim of her own. Thank the gods for the collars. They’d allowed us all to push through questions that, because of the strip about our necks, need not be answered. I didn’t have to wonder if I was making my mate happy at any given moment. What others would be forced to guess, were, for us, givens. Add to that the testing match and I felt confident where Kristin was concerned. I watched her every move, the smallest change in her body or her expression. My obsession combined with the knowledge I gained about her emotions and needs through the collars fed my confidence in her, in our match.

What I was not so calm about was me.

I was a threat to anyone who stepped near her. I would rather kill myself than hurt my mate, and I’d used every ounce of my control to keep my strength at bay when we were together. I’d been rough and commanding, but I had been gentle. I’d come back from my time with the Hive as less Prillon and perhaps more beast. I didn’t know my own strength and I had a hair trigger control. I’d been deliberate in guarding my emotions, always remaining on the periphery, watching, following Hunt’s lead these last three years.

Hunt led. I kept myself in check. It was a system that had been working perfectly.

Until now. Now, I was hanging on by the thinnest of threads, one leer or pleasant smile by one of the warriors and I was going to turn into a berserker. She looked so beautiful in my colors. I was proud to see her in the dark blue, even if my family, those who the color honored, did not care about me any longer. Hunt, Kristin and I would make our own family, just as soon as her collar matched ours.

Kristin Webster of Earth brought out the best in me. And the worst. She was light, even her hair and skin were like the suns in the sky. She wore her hair shorter than Rachel, but I found I preferred it and the unobstructed access to the delicate skin of her neck. Even now, I could not stop staring at the long line of her throat, the soft curve of her jaw. I wanted to kiss her there, over and over, for hours. Her smile alone made my heart clench. Knowing what was beneath the tunic? Well, that was what kept me hard and made me a jealous, possessive lunatic. Which didn’t bode well for the lifespans of the others in the room should they hurt her.

Which they wouldn’t. It didn’t mean I had to like the men ogling her, wanting her.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides: The Colony Science Fiction