I straightened to my full height and held out my hand, chest swelling when she placed her much smaller hand in mine. I turned to Prince Ruk. “Lead the way. I’d like to get my—Breanna—to Rogue 5 as quickly as possible.”
I’d nearly said ‘mate’. Again. Fuck. Everything in me demanded I claim her, shout my need and devotion to every male in this sector of space. Fuck that, every male in the universe should know that she was mine. Untouchable. Protected. Claimed.
Sheshould know.
Channeling my frustration to a new target, I punched Shade in the gut as we walked past. “That’s for threatening my female.”
“I did not.” Shade grunted at the impact.
“You allowed that idiot to threaten her. Control your soldiers, Shade. Or lose them.”
Shade inclined his head and spoke to my mate. “Apologies, Lady Bree.”
Breanna didn’t respond and I wondered if it was because she didn’t wish to accept his apology, was angry with them, with me, or frustrated by the situation. For the first time in my life, I wished I was one of the gods damned Prillons with their mating collars. If I had a mating collar, my mind would be linked to Breanna’s. I would feel her emotions, have an idea of what she was thinking.
I’d also have to share her with my second. Two warriors sharing a female was common practice among the Prillons, the idea being that one warrior would remain to protect their mate and children if the other was killed in battle.
Any second of mine wouldn’t need to wait to die in battle. I’d murder him myself, the first time he touched my mate. I would be unable to allow any male to touch her. The idea of sharing her with anyone made my blood burn and an irrational instinct to kill fill my chest, expanding until the pressure painedme, made my heart rumble and pound inside me like thunder during a storm.
Wisely, Shade stopped resisting the two integrated Atlan Warlords who held him back. He was lucky they weren’t trying to kill him.
His gaze met mine. “You know I cannot simply let you go.”
I tilted my head and grinned, amused by the turn of events. “You’re going to need a lot more soldiers.”
I held Breanna’s small, delicate hand in mine. Surrounded by a small army of Atlan Warlords, one integrated Prillon warrior, and a prince from my ancestor’s home world—well, half of my ancestors, the fanged half—we made our way to their captured Hive ship. My mate would be safer on that ship than anywhere I could provide. I’d take my chances with Shade when we arrived on Rogue 5.
Breanna
If it werepossible to literally drown in testosterone, I’d be dead already. We got more than a few shocked looks, walking through the corridors of the space station. Lots of looks, no one stupid enough to try to stop us.
Nine Atlans walked in formation, all obviously integrated with Hive tech. Atlan beasts were already scary bastards even without the added strength, speed and weaponry their Hive captors had implanted in their bodies. Then there was Sebastion Arcas, a Prillon warrior—also integrated by the Hive—who had one cousin sitting on the war council on Prillon Prime and another cousin who shared a mate with Commander Helion, head of the Coalition Fleet’s intelligence gathering service, theIntelligence Core. Talk about connected. He was also nearly seven feet tall and ripped like a professional bodybuilder. Then there were the Hyperions, Prince Ruk—scariest alien I’d ever met, even though he’d always been nice to me—and Mikos, who was part Forsian, part Hyperion, whose eyes promised death by dismemberment anytime anyone dared look my way.
Me? I was in the middle of this mess, trapped in the center of the deadliest group of aliens I’d probably ever been this close to. I didn’t fight on the ground, so I never saw the Atlans or Prillons in full battle mode. ReCon had a lot of humans and the slightly smaller species, the Viken, Everian and Trion fighters. They looked like normal guys. Big, but human looking. It was just easier for us to sneak around on Hive ships and inside their labs, get in and out of places. We were fast and efficient. Prime Nial, the leader of the Prillons, and also head of the entire Coalition Fleet, had properly assessed human skills and put us to work in the war. I’d been told, since humans joined the fight about eight years ago, the recovery rate for prisoners had gone up significantly. The Colony, the planet our rescued fighters were sent to after Hive captivity, had nearly doubled in population. More wounded veterans needed brides on The Colony than ever.
Which was why the new Earth T.V. show,Bachelor Beast,had become a phenomenon, on Earth, and out in space. I’d enjoyed a glass of Atlan wine and watched the show on more than one occasion from the comfort of my private quarters on the Karter. My room was about the size of a standard walk-in closet back home, just big enough for a cot, a desk and one chair. But it was my sanctuary.
Until Mikos of Astra Legion bit me to save my life.
The irony that now his essence was somehow poisoning me seemed a joke of cosmic proportions. Like setting a house on fire to keep it from burning down. I was totally out of my element.
All I could do was roll with it. I wasn’t on Earth, and there was nothing human about this group. Not the silver circuits in some of their flesh, the random eye that looked like liquid mercury, the claws, long as my hand from wrist to fingertip, that protruded from Prince Ruk’s hands, or the fangs.
God, those fangs. Ruk’s used to scare me, if I was being honest. I’d heard that Hyperions bit their mates, injecting them with their essence. Whatever that meant.
Well, now I knewexactlywhat that meant. Warmth spreading through me faster than a shot of top-shelf whiskey. My entire body going soft and pliant, even as my nerves turned the sensitivity up to eleven and every thrust of Mikos’s cock made my pussy clench around him like a fist, the bundle of nerves in my clit, and the other nerve center I didn’t realize I had deep inside, both lighting up like fireworks until nothing else existed but him.
His scent.
His heat.
His muscles.
His hands touching me.
His lips on my body, somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere he wanted to be.
If I wasn’t careful, he was going to become an obsession. Which would be bad. Very bad.
