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“I can’t.” I wasn’t being dramatic or lying to her. My Elite Hunter instincts literally took control of my body. I couldn’t let her go. The creature inside me knew she was going to leave him if I did, and he tightened his grip like an animal.

Fuck. I was beginning to feel like an animal. A beast. I didn’t have mating fever, like a fucking Atlan warlord, but I was losing control, just like they did, because I couldn’t protect my mate.

I didn’t know how Seth or Dorian let Chloe go off on missions. She was a commander and outranked both of them. While Karter’s mate wasn’t in the Coalition, she did lead all non-fighter personnel for an entire battlegroup. How did they compartmentalize? How did they not lose their minds? But none had a vice admiral for a mate. I was going insane. It was obvious from my looping thoughts about trying to protect her.

Niobe pulled out of my arms and I held myself still, using every ounce of discipline I had acquired in years of hunting to let her go.

I watched as she walked onto the transport pad where Doctor Helion and Warlord Gram joined her. I watched as she nodded to the transport tech.

“Initiate transport.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” The transport tech worked his magic.

I watched as my mate, my life, my beating heart disappeared… and I had no idea where she’d gone.

This was unacceptable. It was time to stop complaining and mentally whining. That shit was over.

It was time to do something to protect my female.

13

Quinn, Prillon Prime, Prime Nial’s Personal Study

Security on Prillon Prime was a challenge. I’d had to sneak past no fewer than seven guards, and incapacitate two more, to reach this room. The guards would wake up later with massive headaches but be no worse for my passing.

I wasn’t on Prillon Prime to cause trouble or hurt anyone. The opposite, in fact.

And I would speak to Prime Nial whether he agreed to a meeting with me or not. I’d tried the diplomatic route, without success. It seemed a lowly Everian Hunter did not simply request a meeting with the most powerful ruler in the known galaxy. I’d been informed, in no uncertain terms, that he was busy.

Well, fuck that. I didn’t have time for busy. My mate was out there with Doctor Helion doing gods knew what, alone. Without her mate for protection.

Without me.

So I helped myself to one of Niobe’s—no, the vice admiral’s—individual transport beacons.

They could punish me for that as well, if they wished.

Or they could try. They’d have to catch me first, and based on the status of Prime Nial’s current contingent of warriors, they’d need three dozen more to have a chance. At least. I was not just an Elite Hunter, I was here to protect my mate.

They’d have to kill me to keep me from protecting Niobe.

Looking around the inside the Prime’s home, I moved like a shadow. I could smell two males in the residence. One in close proximity to a human female I assumed must be their mate, Jessica, from Earth. The other? Anger and frustration scented the air, his body’s response to stress clearly evident, at least to me. The scent came from a small room near some sort of library, ancient historical tomes and heirloom armor lining the walls.

His father’s armor. His grandfather’s. Marked and scorched and burned in battle. The Deston family was legendary among the Prillon people, and I had no doubt Prime Nial would be a warrior to be reckoned with. But I was more than up for the task.

Moving toward the door, I opened it slowly, knew I’d find Prime Nial within. Alone.

Prillon wood gleamed on the floor. Large windows showed spectacular views of th

e city below and would serve their leader as a reminder of all those he governed from within those walls. And the male himself… seven feet tall, broad shouldered and powerful.

I made no sound, still he froze with his hand midair over a report and looked up but did not move otherwise. He took his time inspecting me, looking me over from head to toe, assessing my intentions. He had good instincts, setting the report aside and raising his brows at me with impatience. I liked him as soon as he spoke.

“Who the hell are you?” Prime Nial’s voice was a quiet rumble.

“Elite Hunter Quinn, Prime Nial. I apologize for the condition of your personal guard.” Below, I heard the other male move and wondered what had given me away. Then I remembered the Prillon mating collars. One moment of alarm in Prime Nial would alert his second to danger, to come to his aid, to protect their mate.

While Prime Nial might be measured, reasonable, I’d heard that his second, a beast of a warrior named Ander, was feared among the people, that he carried deep scars from the war and put fear in Nial’s enemies.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides Program Fantasy