The mating fever burned hotter with every passing hour. Last night I had destroyed my quarters in a feral rage. Furniture shattered. Walls cracked. The beast had been terrified we would never find her, that madness would claim me first. But fate had intervened. Impossibly… her scent had led me here. To this moment. To this place. Today. Just in time.
The contract meant nothing. The producers meant nothing. The cameras meant nothing. Only her. Only my mate.
Her scent surged stronger as I rounded the corner. The beast howled inside me. My vision tunneled. My hands trembled as I fought to keep control of the transformation.
"Egon!" The van screeched to a stop behind me. Chet tumbled out, nearly face-planting on the pavement before catching himself. His designer suit was rumpled, his shoe untied, his face flushed red. "What are you doing? You can't just?—"
A growl tore out of my throat. It was not human. It was the warning of a predator.
Chet stumbled backward instantly. Two Prillon warriors—his mates—stepped from the van and positioned themselves between us. I barely noticed them. If I wanted them dead, they would already be dead. But I wanted only one thing. The female inside the human building before me.
A church. She was inside.
Mate. The beast agreed.
Behind me, the camera crew lifted their equipment, lenses trained on my back. Let them film. Let the entire universe watch. They would witness what happened when an Atlan Warlord found his mate.
"You don't understand," Chet stammered, hands raised. "Whatever you think you're doing—whoever you think is in there—this is a mistake. You need to be careful. Assess the situation. This is being broadcast on television. Millions of people will see it. Billions! You need to calm down and?—"
"She is mine." The words scraped from my throat. My voice barely sounded like my own. The beast was rising. My vocal cords thickened. My jaw ached. Soon words would disappear entirely. Except one.
Mine.
Chet went pale. "Egon… listen. You signed a contract. You promised to participate in the selection process. This stunt—this could affect the others on The Colony. The producers will?—"
"I care nothing for your producers." I turned toward the church.
Her scent flooded me now. So strong it made my head spin. Inside, soft music drifted through the walls. Humans murmured quietly. A ceremony. My body stiffened. I walked toward the entrance slowly now, each step deliberate. My muscles bunched beneath my skin as the beast pushed closer to the surface. I felt myself growing. My thighs thickened. The ceremonial leather strained.
The ridiculous cloak flared behind me in the sunlight, making me look like some supernatural entity marching toward judgment. Good. Let them see what I truly was. A monster. A beast. A Warlord who would burn worlds for the female fate had chosen for him.
The humans near the entrance saw me coming. They scattered immediately, screaming. Their fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered except her.
I reached the massive wooden doors. Closed. Locked. I planted my hands against the ancient wood.
Inside, a male voice spoke through a speaker system, his voice far louder than it should have been. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
There was a pause. Silence, as if those inside listened for whoever it was they expected to speak. About what? I had no idea. Did not care, not when my mate was on the other side of the doors.
I shoved. The doors exploded inward. Wood splintered. Metal shrieked. The locking mechanism tore free with a violent crack. The doors slammed against the interior walls with a thunderous boom that echoed through the vaulted sanctuary.
Shocked murmurs followed. Hundreds of human faces turned toward me. Tremors rippled through the crowd. Then fear. The music faltered and died.
At the far end of the aisle stood my mate. My knees nearly buckled. She was breathtaking. A vision in white. Her gown cascaded around her like clouds in perfect contrast to her warm brown skin. Dark brown hair swept upward in an elegant style that exposed the graceful line of her throat. Her breasts were full. Her ample hips curved. The gown hugged her form like a sheath. Her face—oval, delicate, beautiful—turned toward me. Full glistening lips. Confusion filled her dark brown eyes. Alarm followed.
Gods. She was fucking perfect. My chest tightened so violently I could barely breathe. The beast roared in triumph. I wanted to bury my cock inside her wet heat. Make her whimper and beg and fall apart in my arms. I needed my mating cuffs on her wrists so the entire universe knew to touch her meant certain death. She was mine. Fucking mine.
"Mine." I wasn't sure if I spoke or the declaration came from the beast. Didn't matter. We were in complete agreement.
"What the hell—" A male voice cut through the silence. A tall human stepped forward, positioning himself between us. His expensive suit fit perfectly. His face was handsome in a soft, well-fed way. He raised his voice toward the crowd. "Security! Someone get security!" I lifted a hand. Not a threat. A command. Silence fell again.
Atlans were warriors. But we were honorable warriors. Honor demanded truth before action. I understood what I had walked into. My mate stood before an altar. Dressed as a bride. This was a wedding. She was about to be bound to another male. My chest felt as if it were being crushed.
I might already be too late.
I forced myself to breathe. Forced the beast down. If she had already spoken her vows… if she had chosen this human male freely… then I would walk away. I would return to The Colony. I would choose execution over becoming the monster who forced a female to abandon her chosen mate. If she loved this human, I would leave this planet. Because the beast had chosen. And there would never be another.
I stepped forward slowly. Stopped halfway down the aisle. "Have you spoken your vows?" I asked, my voice rough with the effort of restraint. "Are you mated in the human way?"
