Another gift she would give me, a gift I’d never before hoped to receive.
I stood slowly as I exited the vehicle, which darted off behind me without pause, off to pick up the next passenger. I had nothing with me but the clothing on my back. Our other belongings had been sent separately via bulk transport. I’d packed up everything from Megan’s room and almost nothing from mine.
Tugging on my soft brown tunic, I felt strange wearing civilian clothing, the fabric so light and comfortable I felt naked standing there, staring up at the monstrous property that was mine. I was here. Home. And Megan would join me soon. We’d been gifted four full-time staff members to help us settle in. As Megan had requested, she would do no cooking, nor cleaning. I’d been assigned to the local training center to prepare young Atlans just shipping out to war, to try to teach them how to stay alive.
Megan would join me there. I’d asked the Atlan in charge of recruits in this region to look at her service record. He’d been impressed, as I knew he would. Atlan women did not serve here, but Megan, it turned out, was an expert marksman and strategist.
And if she grew bored of that, there were a hundred other things she could do on my home world. I didn’t care if she wanted to stay home with our children, yell and scream at young Atlan warriors, or plant vegetables at the city’s hydroponic farm, as long as she was mine.
The war, both of our suffering, was all over now and I could make the dream she’d shared with me a reality. Eight bedrooms. A garden. Flowers. Trees so tall she couldn’t see the sky.
Staring up at the sprawling estate I smiled as I saw vines climbing the nearest wall, vines covered in bright yellow flowers.
Megan would like those flowers.
Our home was impressive, made of stone, and located in a beautiful forested setting on the edges of the city. I didn’t care about any of it. I didn’t care whether it was the fanciest property on the planet or a hovel. I didn’t care about anything but Megan.
Fifteen hours. I never wanted to be parted from her for such a lengthy time again.
I walked up the hill and went in the front door. A pleasant-looking woman stepped fo
rward. She was Atlan, and looked to be in her senior years. She wore mating cuffs and I knew her mate had probably been hired as well, but the house felt empty. My cuffs’ sting letting me know that Megan was not within the quiet walls. I didn’t sense her, nor did my beast.
“Welcome home, Warlord. I am Berina. My mate, Pontar, is here to serve you as well. He will tend to the grounds as I take care of this beautiful home. Two more shall arrive tomorrow.”
I bowed my head to her in greeting, as I tried to remember my manners. I’d spent the last years tearing Hive in half, not making polite conversation with strangers. “Thank you, Berina. And welcome.”
Her smile was bright with happiness as she took my arm and pulled me deeper into the house. It was beautiful and well furnished, comfortable furniture and rugs, artwork on the walls. It looked like a palace. “We are very pleased to be here, Warlord. Very pleased. There were more than three hundred applicants ready to serve your family. But we are the best.”
Three hundred? “It’s only been a few hours.”
“Of course.” She smiled, a warm, friendly smile that I knew would welcome both visitors and children to her realm. Serving a Warlord’s family had always been considered an honor for the civilians of Atlan. Many vied for the few positions. Not only did they carry the weight and wealth of the family they served everywhere they went, but they were treated well, lived in luxury, and most established significant wealth in gifts and payment from the Warlords they served. Many, too, passed on the mantle to their own children, forging an alliance with a powerful Warlord’s family that spanned generations. And it was not often that an orphan like myself came along. Most Warlords returned to established families.
“Are you hungry? I have a fine meal prepared for you and your lady.”
“No.” I began to prowl with worry, my feeling a stark contrast to the contented glow in Berina’s eyes. Was Megan still with Doctor Helion at the Intelligence Core command base? Had they not released her? I couldn’t get to her there. I was stuck here now, forced to wait, to wonder how my mate had ended up serving in the I.C. with the spies and assassins, the crazy warriors who took missions so dangerous no one else would touch them.
“My mate should arrive soon.” Perhaps I would go back outside and wait for her arrival, where I could pace without breaking something.
I was halfway to the door when Berina’s voice stopped me. “Mistress Megan is in the gardens, Warlord. She awaits your arrival.”
As if I’d run into a stone wall, I stopped in front of the large windows that faced the back of the house. An open yard of grass and wildflowers was in the foreground, thick trees, so tall as to block out the sky in the distance. And sitting in solitude on a lovely wooden bench was Megan. She was just sitting there, her face relaxed, an expression of complete serenity on her face. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back so the sun fell upon her like a kiss from the gods themselves. Her dark hair was long and free down her back. She wasn’t wearing her usual Coalition uniform. I’d only seen her in the dark brown-and-black armor, her hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck in a tight braid. Or naked. Gods, I’d seen her naked.
But this…she was a vision. She was dressed in civilian clothing, as I was. But she wore a traditional Atlan gown, the blue fabric clinging to every curve. She was healthy and whole, and happy. Home. Safe. With me. Yes, this was what I’d imagined.
I took a deep breath, then another. Settled myself, took in the vision before me. My cock hardened in welcoming heat as I stared, tracing every detail of the moment I knew would be burned into my mind forever, the moment before I took her.
Going out the door, I walked across the soft grass and realized why she hadn’t heard me call her name. Hidden at the edge of the tree line was a small stream, the water tumbling and falling over rocks. The sound of it mixed with the wind kept the world away. Including, it seemed, the heavy and urgent footsteps of a possessive mate.
“Megan,” I called.
Her head whipped around in my direction and her eyes opened. Surprise was replaced by…yes, gods, yes…joy. A smile spread across her beautiful face and her dark eyes came alive.
She stood and looked as if she might come toward me.
I held up my hand and said, “Stop. By the gods, don’t move.”
She froze.