My jaw clenched as the events of the evening replayed in my mind. The female, Jessica, draped over my arm. Another contestant laughing, too loudly, while sliding her hand across my chest. Each time it happened my beast had surged forward, roaring for blood. The only reason the ballroom still stood was because Tori had been there as well. Across the room. Watching. Every time I caught her scent—sweet, warm, edged with sharp jealousy—my beast calmed just enough for me to maintain control.
The producers had loved it. "The brooding Warlord!" Chet had announced gleefully during one of our breaks. "The tension is palpable! The audience will eat this up!" Tension. That was one word for it. The truth was far less charming.
Every second I had been forced to pretend that my mate was just another contestant felt like someone holding a blade against my throat. Because she was twenty paces away. Close enough that I could see the way her breathing changed when another woman touched me. Close enough that I could smell the heat of her desire beneath the perfume she wore.
My mate had suffered through it, too. I had watched her hands curl into fists at her sides when Jessica wrapped herself around my arm and called me "my dark prince." I had seen the flash of temper in my mate’s eyes. The possessiveness. The hunger.
Mine. The beast preened at the memory. She wants us.
"Yes," I said quietly. And thank the gods for that because I could not let her go.
The filming had finally ended an hour ago. The contestants sent to take some pictures and then return to their rooms. The lights across the resort slowly faded one by one while the production crew packed equipment and retreated to their quarters. I had stood on the balcony of my suite and waited impatiently for my female to return to me while the ocean wind rolled in from the beach below.
The air here was warm, even at night. The scent of saltwater drifted through the palm trees surrounding the resort. Tropical flowers perfumed the breeze—jasmine, plumeria, something sweet and intoxicating that mingled with the scent of warm sand. And beneath it all… Her. Tori. My mate. Her scent threaded through the night like a beacon.
The beast rose eagerly. Find her.
He was tired of waiting. So was I. Where the fuck was she and what was taking so gods damned long?
I grabbed a basket of food and a bottle of wine I had liberated from the catering pavilion—the drink something Chet had apparently been saving for a "special moment"—and slipped out of my room. The wooden walkway beneath my boots ran between clusters of palm trees and flowering shrubs. Beyond them the beach stretched toward the moonlit ocean, waves whispering softly against the sand. The resort was quiet. Perfect.
Tori and the other contestants were doing a moonlight photography session down on the beach. Chet had arranged that little detail himself. I suspected he believed promoting the beautiful women in their advertisements would increase the chances of multiple warriors volunteering to participate in future seasons of his television show.
I could have told him not to waste his time. If they could, every single male on The Colony would be here already, searching for a compatible mate. Human females had developed a reputation throughout the Coalition as very beautiful, passionate, intelligent partners. Some of the highest-ranking Prillon warriors, Atlan Commanders—even the three kings of Viken—had taken a female from Earth as their mate.
Which was why criminals from Rogue 5 were now kidnapping Earth females and taking them into space. To keep. To sell. Even the Hive had taken an interest.
As I approached my mate, my gaze lingered on the soft shimmer of moonlight on her dark skin. I understood the universal desire for a human female completely. Her dark hair framed her oval face to perfection. Her big, brown eyes widened when she saw me. Her lips—those fucking lips—I was going to own those lips this night. I had never seen another female, from any planet, more beautiful than my mate.
The beast stirred restlessly as I approached. I stayed just out of sight of most of the crew. Since my mate was the last contestant, it was just her and a handful of others still on the beach. They’d made her wait. Made her be last.
Fuck. That. I would make sure that did not happen again.
I scanned the surroundings, prepared to murder two unreliable Prillon warriors. Relief flooded me when I spotted both Rohn and Krag standing guard nearby. I gave them a nod of thanks. They were relieved. She was mine now.
Mine. The beast agreed.
I walked into the small group of humans and let my beast show in my eyes. “Leave us.”
The staff and crew scrambled at my command. Smart. My mate was exhausted, swaying on her feet. A shiver raced over her skin as I stepped closer. “Are you cold?”
“No. I’m fine.” Tori stood there like she had been waiting for me. The sight of her stole the air from my lungs. Her lips curved slowly as she stared up at me. "You came." Her voice was soft, but the heat in her eyes sent fire through my veins.
"My apologies, mate. If I had known Chet had this planned, I would have forbidden it.”
She laughed. “Forbidden, huh? I don’t think that’s how this is supposed to work.”
Fuck Chet. Fuck the show. I had held up my end of the agreement this night, protected the rights of my fellow Warlords. Right now, she was mine.
I lifted the bottle slightly, and the basket. "I brought a drink. And food. I do not know if the wine is good, but the producers seemed very protective of it." The wine was probably terrible, at least compared to fine Atlan wine, but it was all I had.
She laughed quietly. The sound wrapped around my chest like warmth. “A Masseto? Oh, dear. You stole Chet's private stash?"
The sparkle in her eyes made me want to steal a hundred more.
“That stuff is expensive. Derek and his friends drink it. Chet is going to throw a fit.”
"Chet owes me.” I stepped closer until the scent of her surrounded me completely and ignored the rage from my beast at the name of the other male on her lips.
