“I don’t suppose you can tell me what you were doing for the Coalition for the last four years? If possible, I’d like to place some basic information in your file for your mate. It will help him understand you and relate to your past.”
“No, I don’t suppose I can,” I replied. I’d been back on Earth for a year. I’d served four years with the Intelligence Core. But in the last twelve months, I was rarely asked about my time with the Coalition. Not many on Earth believed in the Hive—especially since the news services didn’t share any of the horrors the space bad guys were inflicting. As of now, Earth was insulated from the Hive by the rest of the Coalition planets. Even though there were some who volunteered to serve, like I had, the percentage was small. Earth met the volunteer quota required to retain Coalition protection and no more.
Earth’s governments were still too busy fighting each other to dedicate serious resources to space.
And returning to Earth? No one who’d been out there was allowed to talk about what they did. Even if the debriefing wasn’t so severe, and we could talk, no one understood, or believed most of it. No one within the Emergency Services department in Houston believed me. I took 911 calls fifty hours a week and helped manage the worst-of-the-worst kinds of problems. Domestic abuse. School shootings. Hurricanes. Floods. Heart attacks. Car accidents. Humans would believe a story about ghosts or television psychics predicting the future of their love lives. But the Hive threat in space? Me, working undercover in outer space? Me, fighting aliens and infiltrating enemy lines? Yeah, my co-workers would have had a good laugh at my expense.
Not that I could tell them much. Just like some personnel within the US armed services, everything was kept confidential. SEALs couldn’t say where they went on a deployment. Spouses couldn’t be told a location. Missions were kept secret. Top secret.
Especially the new technology being developed to disrupt the Hive communications frequencies. And people like me, who had a knack for listening to their chatter and deciphering what they were saying. I couldn’t explain how I did what I did, but I listened and sometimes the strange sounds just—clicked with my NPU in a unique way. There were others like me, but not many.
And one of them in particular, Bruvan, was wrong a lot. Too much. But he always managed to blame someone else. Blame the Hive for changing their plans.
Blame me.
He’d nearly gotten my entire team killed on the last mission, nearly killed me, and I’d been sent h
ome, medical’d out, and he was out there still. Peddling his bullshit. Getting good warriors killed.
I had to bite my bottom lip to keep the anger in when the warden offered such a sympathetic ear. But I didn’t know her clearance level, and I wasn’t going to ask. “I really can’t say anything about it.”
The warden arched one dark brow and pursed her lips. “Well, it says you worked two deployments within the Intelligence Core, completing four years, before your return to Earth. You’ve been working as a 911 operator in your hometown. You’ve settled back into civilian life. Have a job. An apartment. Friends. And yet, you’ve decided to become a bride. Why?”
I frowned. “Does it matter? I’m here of my own free will.”
Glancing down at my wrists, they were restrained to the arms of the utilitarian chair by thick metal bands. “Although, being strapped to this chair doesn’t feel quite so voluntary.”
She looked at her tablet, swiped her finger and the restraints retracted into the chair. “They are for your safety during testing and to protect me from those who have been convicted of crimes. Until the testing is complete, they’ve consented to the match, and they arrive on their new home world, they are still prisoners.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my wrists, although they weren’t chafed. The move made goosebumps rise on my skin as I became chilled in the hospital-style gown I wore. Breeze on the bare backside? Wouldn’t want to miss that.
“You are far from a prisoner, Chloe. The opposite, most likely. I assume you have plenty of commendations on your record from the Coalition Fleet.”
“Fishing,” I said, forcing a smile from the woman.
“It’s like that, is it?” She sighed. “You can at least tell me why you’re volunteering.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been to space. I know the Coalition, the type of guys who are qualified to be tested for an Interstellar Bride. I also know myself. I’m from Earth, but four years in space has changed me. Earth isn’t the same anymore. I can’t speak of what I did. Even if I could, no one would believe me. I’m just…bored. I don’t belong here anymore.”
“Go back to the Intelligence Core.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked.
I tilted my chin indicating her tablet. “It doesn’t say on there I can’t go back?”
She looked down and scanned farther, moving her finger over the tablet several times. Reading the fine print, I guess. I’d never seen my own file. “Ah yes. It says you suffered injuries that make you ineligible for service. But it doesn’t say what those injuries were.” She raised a brow, waiting for me to clue her in.
“I was hurt on my last mission. I healed eventually, but I don’t want to ride a desk.” That was all I could give her. It was the truth. There was no need to tell her that I wasn’t allowed to return. They gave me the choice, retire or be forced out. They never expected me to want to go back.
I never expected to want to go back.
Maybe that head injury was worse than I thought. Maybe I was crazy for wanting to go back out into space. But, I wasn’t going back. At least, not to the same life. I knew the odds, and there wasn’t a chance I’d be matched and mated to Bruvan or anyone else I once worked with.
I didn’t like them enough.
But who was I matched to? I’d interacted with most of the alien races. Atlan. Prillon. Trion. I’d only met one Hunter from Everis, but he was sexy as hell. Any of them would be fine with me. And with that matching dream, two lovers, I was pretty sure I was headed to Prillon Prime. I needed to know. The curiosity was killing me. “Was I matched?”