Governor Rone’s voice brought me back to the present, the familiar rasp a jarring contrast to the phantom sounds of the past. “Then it’s settled. Captain Marz and Lieutenant Vance will lead the recon mission. We’ll outfit your shuttle with the latest storm shields and telemetry sensors. The repair team will stay on standby as your extraction unit. Hopefully we will not need to put the new armor to the test. Your primary objective is to gather data on the source of these anomalies and, if possible, confirm any signs of Hive activity.”
Vance and I exchanged a brief look, his eyes dark with determination, mine shadowed with doubt. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, as if I had bitten into metal. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the pressure building in my temples. It had been a while since I’d last taken a shuttle outside the dome, and the memory of Perro’s betrayal was a specter that clung to me. The stakes were higher, the risks greater, and yet a part of me welcomed it. There was an angry voice inside that told me I deserved whatever the storm had to throw at me—that maybe it was time I stopped hiding behind the safety of Base 3’s walls and faced the danger head-on.
As the meeting dispersed, Governor Rone placed a firm hand on my shoulder. The touch was warm, but it felt like a weight pressing down on me. “Stay sharp out there, Marz,” he said quietly, his voice rasping like gravel underfoot. “And… take care of yourself. You have a mate now. No rash decisions.”
I forced a smile, though it felt strained at the edges. “My mate is my first priority.”
“Of course.” The governor gave a faint nod, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, as if searching for some sign of uncertainty.
I left the operations room and made my way toward the armory. Each step felt heavy, the dull thud of my boots against the metal floor echoing through the narrow corridors. I tried to focus on the checklist for the mission, running through every procedure, every potential variable. But no matter how hard I tried to keep my thoughts ordered, my obsession would not be denied. My mate consumed me—Rowan’s voice, her touch, the warmth of her breath against my skin as she whispered my name.
The sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could get back to her. But even as I pictured her waiting for me, that familiar guilt surged up, threatened to drown out her image. I could almost hear Perro’s voice, mingling with hers, a cacophony of the past and present, one reminding me of my failures, the other a love I wasn’t sure I was worthy of. I tried to silence the noise, clenching my jaw and quickening my pace. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure if I was walking into the storm to protect my mate—or to punish myself.
Vance’s hand came down on my shoulder and he shoved me into a storage room. The door closed behind us and he turned on me, eyes filled with barely contained wrath. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Whatever control he’d been exerting during the meeting fell away and a chaos of emotions blasted me through our connection. I stood my ground. “What are you talking about?”
“Fuck, Marz. I can feel you, remember? You don’t drop the guilt over Perro and you’re going to get yourself killed. Let it go. There was nothing you could do.” He shoved me in the chest,and I stumbled back, anger flooding me as his fear for Rowan mixed with mine in a volatile cocktail neither of us was prepared to handle.
“Fuck you. You think I don’t feel the chaos in your mind? Your fear? What are you hiding from our mate? From me? You think I don’t sense your constant battle for control?” When Vance’s eyes widened in shock, I knew I was right. I had worried I was being paranoid, seeing things in Vance that weren’t truly there because of what happened with Perro. But no. I shoved my arm under his chin and held his back to the wall. If he struggled, if he fought me on this—protecting our mate—I would kill him here and now. I held his gaze and spoke my truth. “At first, I believed the struggle I feel in your mind was amplified because you were worried about protecting Rowan. Her emotions are raw and dangerous, to both of us. But that’s not all, is it? The Hive have their claws in your mind.”
“For years, Marz. Fucking years. Just like every other cursed warrior on this planet.”
I stared into his eyes, took my time tasting his emotions as they pushed into my mind. First and foremost was the desire to protect our mate. But behind that, floating through my mind like wisps of smoke, was fear. Fear that he would lose control. “I am warning you, Second, either you gain control of your mind, or I will find a second who can.”
“I would never harm our mate.”
“I believe you. For now. The moment I do not, you will be replaced.”
The threat of taking Rowan from him caused a flood of black fury—a killing rage—to fill Vance’s mind. I thought, for a moment, we would fight a battle to the death in this stupid fucking storage closet. Instead, Vance clenched his hands into fists and snarled at me through clenched teeth. “Try to take Rowan from me and you will not survive the attempt.”
He meant every word. Good. “Save that fury for the mission. We have a mate to protect.”
8
Rowan
I satin the garden with more than a dozen women—two of them grandmothers—surrounded by lush greenery and blooming flowers that seemed too vibrant for this time of year. I knew we all lived inside a closed environment, but sitting here felt like sitting in a greenhouse the size of a city block. Children ranging in age from infants to a young boy of ten or twelve—I never was a good judge of ages—crawled, hopped and sprinted around the garden, and their mothers’ feet, as we all tried to pretend nothing was wrong. The tension, however, was palatable and the youngest among us, the babies, did not wander far from their mothers’ sides.
My new home was strange and wonderful, as were my new mates. They’d barely allowed me out of bed for the last three days. God knew, I wasn’t complaining. The sex was freaking amazing. Better than the processing dream. They still hadn’t taken me together, but I was almost ready. Craved the experience. Wanted that final piece of the puzzle to lock into place, make us truly one.
Something held me back. Not something–my mates. The collars linked us, forced us to share emotions. They thought they were fooling me, overwhelming me with desire, the need to protect me, their fierce devotion to me. I felt it all. I had no doubt they would kill anyone who dared try to hurt me.
Except themselves.
Behind Marz’s lust and obsession was guilt and regret. For what, I did not know and he had not offered any explanation. We had only been together for three days. I did not expect him to bare his soul to me.
Fuck that. Yes. Yes, I did. But he wasn’t the one who worried me most. Something dark and menacing twisted inside Vance’s mind. Sometimes it reached for me like mental claws made of ice, cold and calculating. Always, he shoved it back, buried it under his will, a will so strong it tasted like steel in my mind. He shoved the dark, hungry void away and caged it by focusing on pleasure. Need. His wonder that I allowed him to touch me at all.
I didn’t know if they were normal Prillon warriors, carrying these dark shadows, or if they were unique. I had never dated a veteran on Earth, and even if I had, I would not have been able to share their mind and emotions. Were my mates typical? I didn’t know any of these ladies well enough to ask. Besides, baring pieces of my mates’ souls to another felt like the worst kind of betrayal. I had decided to wait them out, earn their trust. Soon, they would talk to me, tell me their secrets. They had to. Right? If I was really Marz’s perfect match, things would work out and they would trust me enough to tell me everything. But what if I wasn’t his perfect match? What if the stupid alien computer system thing made a mistake? Maybe that’s why they were holding back part of themselves, not trusting me, not baring their souls to me the way I bared my heart and soul to them. God knew, the collars made it impossible to lie about my feelings. Butsomehow, my mates had both figured out a way to keep secrets from me and from each other.
I’d been lied to enough in my life. No matter how great the sex might be, if we weren’t true partners, I would walk away out of sheer self-preservation.
“Hi everyone! What did I miss?” Rachel, the governor’s mate—who had second Prillon warrior mate named Ryston and a gorgeous copper collar around her neck—entered the garden, her expression grave despite the forced smile on her face.
“Momma!” Her two little ones, Maximus and Ryan, raced to her, Max settling his arms around her waist as Ryan clung to one of her legs. Maximus, named after her primary mate, looked much more like Ryston with caramel colored skin and dark hair. His little brother, Ryan, shared the governor’s copper colored skin and dark hair. I didn’t know their exact ages, but Max looked perhaps five or six, the younger boy about three. Rachel ruffled their hair and sent them off to play with the other children.
Adorable. My heart ached as I looked at the obvious results of her mating with Maxim and Ryston. Rachel was lovely, if my opposite. Where I was pale as snow, thanks to my golden hair and light blue eyes, she was darker, her dark brown hair, warm eyes and olive skin practically glowing in the artificial sunlight they used to encourage the plants to grow. She looked like a supermodel who should be sporting a bikini, lounging on a beach while basking in the sun, not on a strange planet worrying about survival and unnatural storms.
