I felt the shape of the helmet within, knew it was exactly what my sacrifice had been about. I could breathe again. “I will deliver this and then I’m done.”
She grabbed my helmet from a shelf and handed it to me. The heavy weight of it was comforting, even though it was only in my hands, and not on my head.
“Did you remove your helmet at the way station?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t do that again. Whatever is inside your head—” I opened my mouth to protest or argue, but she held up her hand to stop me, “—and I don’t need to know exactly what it is.” Her gaze locked on mine and held. “However, if it had anything to do with the Hive, I wouldn’t recommend you take the helmet off again unless you are certain you are well outside their active transmission range.”
I grinned. Medical scans and good instincts. I had to give Doctor Moor credit. She was one smart lady. “Noted.”
All pretense of fun faded and she grabbed my arm. “Megan, listen to me. Whatever was happening to you when you landed on my table, it was an active process. It wasn’t just making you bleed, soldier. It was attacking cells, devouring them, reforming them. You need to get that thing out of your head, and the sooner the better.”
The Hive implant was eating away at my brain? I’d thought it could do something like that, but it had been a joke I’d told myself. What she was saying made it no longer funny. God, I wanted it out of me. Like, yesterday. And suddenly Doctor Helion’s delay felt like a month.
“Thank you, Doctor.” I sighed, looked up at Nyko. “Thank you, Warlord. I…um, wish you luck on your match. I hope that your fever is gone quickly.”
That meant he would be fucking someone else, dammit. I walked toward the door, not wanting to linger any longer. It would only hurt. I was almost out of the medical station when the doctor called me back.
“Speaking of matches, Megan, don’t you want to know who you were matched to?”
I turned at the doctor’s words, glanced at Nyko, nerves making me wish the floor would swallow me whole. “No. Not yet.” I shook my head at the doctor, willing her to understand the absolute awkwardness of this situation. “You can tell me later.”
She gave a slight laugh. “No. No, I really can’t. Congratulations, Miss Simmons.”
I hadn’t been called a Miss in two years. It sounded odd. It sounded like Earth.
I looked up at Nyko, who stood just as wild and barely constrained as he had since he stormed into the cave. He was going to have his own match, his own mate. Swiftly, I imagined. Surely his results would be pushed through quickly so he wouldn’t have to be executed. No one wanted to kill a skilled Warlord because of Mating Fever.
“Fine.” I clutched the pack close and waited to hear the name of my matched mate, trying to imagine what it would be like to have a man of my own, one who was perfectly matched, who wanted me just the way I was. Who I would lust after and desire, who would desire me with equal need.
I didn’t really care who this mystery man was at the moment, not when my body still ached for Nyko. Why did my heart feel like it was breaking as I nodded to the doctor and waited?
Nyko’s roar of rage made me jump. I turned to see three medical officers had rushed to him, trying to block his way…to me.
“Warlord, calm your beast. Now.” The doctor’s voice boomed.
“Mine,” he growled, his eyes intense and focused on me.
“Yes, your beast is correct. She is yours.”
I stopped in my tracks, stared up at the doctor. “What?”
She grinned. “Every once in awhile, my job is so much fun. Your match has been made and it is Warlord Nyko.”
My mouth fell open and my helmet slipped from my numb fingertips to land on the floor with a loud thud.
“Nyko is my match?” I squeaked.
“Yes. A ninety-nine percent match.” She looked at her tablet. “In fact, I’ve never seen a match as strong as yours before and I’ve done hundreds of them.”
“But…but we don’t even get along. We argue constantly.” Had I really just said something that stupid? Yes. Yes, I had. But who could blame me? My heart was racing in my chest and a bubbly, giddy feeling made me want to leap into the air and whoop like an old-school cowboy from the Wild West.
“That means, Warlord, that your match has gone through as well. I have confirmation from both results. Your matched mate is Megan Simmons from Earth.”
I glanced up at Nyko for confirmation but he seemed to be processing the news, too. He wasn’t restrained by the technician any longer, but his beast seemed to grow bigger before my eyes. A smile spread across his face. A very feral, possessive smile.
“Mate.” It growled and I shivered.