“Watch this.” I returned to the S-Gen machine. “Two personal transport beacons, coordinates set for arrival on Battleship Zeus. High priority.” That last would make sure we were bumped to the front of the line, in front of cargo or anything else that could wait. Sometimes their supply deliveries took hours.
The knowledge of their transport protocols floated at the front of my mind, ripe for the picking. Guess I really had learned a lot about Prillon ships from those educational videos. Heart? Broken. Apparently, for better or worse, the mind still worked.
I rocked back and forth as the small, triangular buttons appeared side by side. I lifted them gently—no sense activating them before we were ready. “Here. One for me and one for you.”
I held his ticket to freedom in front of me, the small item resting in the center of my palm. I expected him to take it. Instead, he dropped to one knee before me and bowed his head until his forehead rested against my palm.
“Willow, I am yours. I owe you a life debt and will come when you call, render aid whenever ask, and be loyal to you from this day to my last day.”
Uh oh. I didn’t mean—this wasn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to make sure those poor women, no matter what planet they were from, weren’t left to suffer—or worse, blown to bits by myformermatched mate.
Thankfully, Oberon stood without expecting a reply, took the beacon and attached it to the uniform covering his chest. I grabbed the drawings that had caused Helion so much frustration, held them tightly under one arm, and issued one last verbal command. Every word hurt like razor blades slicing up my throat. Damn him.
Are you sure about this?
No.I’m not. You’re the one always telling me to stop hiding from the truth. You know what he did. He was going to leave her there. Leaveall of themthere. I can’t…I just can’t…
Okay. I wanted to keep him. This fucking sucks.
She was telling me?
“Willow Baylor, Interstellar Brides’ Program, terminate match to Commander Zarren Helion. Bride rejects the match.”
The voice that responded sounded entirely too cheerful for a task that was literally tearing me apart inside. “Matched Mate, Commander Zarren Helion. Matching protocol terminated. Unsuccessful match. Confirmed. Processing new match—”
Ohhell,no. I knew what that stupid bride program was trying to do, match me to the next best Prillon. My next best match.
As badly as this one had turned out? No, thank you. Makayla had been right after all. I’d been foolish to trust a computer to tell me who to love. Or not love, as he’d insisted.
“Cancel processing. Remove Willow Baylor from program database. Terminate matching protocols.” Technically, that wasn’t allowed. But I could do a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to be able to do. Like free prisoners from my former mate’s ship.
“Authorization code?”
“Authorization Willow Baylor, Prillon Prime.” Took less than a second for the computer to analyze my voice command and frequency. Everyone’s voice had a unique frequency. How cool was that? Another bit of useless knowledge acquired watching Coalition vids.
“Protocols terminated. Willow Baylor has been removed from the Interstellar Brides’ Program database. Be advised, deletion is permanent.”
“Excellent.” I should have been relieved. Happy. Right? So why did I want to curl up on the floor and cry for a month?
“Willow.” Oberon held his large hand out to me, the understanding and compassion on his face somehow made this tragedy hurt worse. “I’m sorry. We need to go.” He tilted his head toward the metal door. I turned to see the door had begun to melt, rivulets of molten metal slid down the inside surface like melting wax.
I placed the beacon on my chest and nodded. I took his hand, his strength an anchor I didn’t want to need—but did—as, with a nod of agreement, we activated transport.
11
Oberon Arcas, Mission Transport Ship, Two Days Later…
Helion was an idiot.A total fucking idiot.
His former mate? The human female, Willow Baylor?
Fuck. I wanted her. I didn’t just want, I was obsessed. Wouldn’t allow her out of my sight. Not only did she not have a family collar on for protection—which meant every fucking unmated male on the battleship was watching her as closely as I— but she was beautiful. Courageous. Fierce. Kind.
Fuckable. The scent of her wet heat had haunted me from that first day, when her pussy had been wet and hot, ready for her mate. I’d spent long hours staving off hunger by envisioning feasting on her, licking and tasting every part of her. Fucking her. For hours.
The knowledge that she belonged to Helion had fueled my power to resist him and his manipulations. She was an Interstellar Bride. I had figured out that much. How any female could be matched to the infamous Helion was beyond my ability to comprehend.
Why Helion would want her?
