So fucking mine. I needed to kiss her. Feel her hot pussy tight on my cock. Hear the soft cries she made when she came apart in my arms. I simply needed.
Across the room from my female, I stood where the producers had placed me—on a raised platform designed to make me appear like some mythical warrior prince from their fantasy stories. My costume was another elaborate insult to practicality. Black leather pants. Tall boots that came to my knees. A flowing red cape heavy with gold and black embroidery and jeweled clasps shaped like dragons. And glitter. More glitter. The makeup female had insisted it made me look "mysterious." She had applied dark pigment around my eyes while giggling nervously the entire time. The result had, apparently, pleased the producers.
The beast cared about none of it. He cared about the cuffs. The mating cuffs rested in their glass case like a prize to be won.
They belonged to one fucking female. One. And the beast was losing patience.
Mine. Now.
I ignored him. My gaze returned to Tori again despite every effort to look elsewhere. She was staring at me. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized I had caught her watching. Heat moved through my body instantly.
The memory of the previous night rose without permission. Her skin beneath my hands. Her voice whispering my name. The way she had clung to me afterward, her breathing soft against my chest while the ocean wind drifted through the palms. We returned to my suite and I took her again before dawn. Slowly. Carefully.
The beast rumbled. He had not touched his mate. Not claimed her. His rage was building into a living, breathing entity all its own.
A tall female in purple approached Tori. Jessica. My irritation sharpened immediately. The female leaned close, speaking quietly to my mate while watching me with predatory interest. I could not hear their words across the ballroom, but the tension in Tori's posture told me enough. My instincts sharpened.
The beast shoved an image of us walking across the ballroom and physically removing Jessica from our mate’s side. That female was trouble. She needed someone to teach her how to behave.
I knew several males on The Colony who would be more than up to the task.
"Later." I heard the one word as Jessica stepped away from Tori, her cloak swirling dramatically behind her. Tori remained where she stood, fists clenched briefly at her sides before she forced her shoulders to relax.
My chest tightened. She looked upset. Angry. The urge to cross the ballroom and pull her into my arms nearly overpowered me.
Claim. Mine. Gods be damned, the beast needed to expand his vocabulary.
"Contestants!" Chet's voice boomed through the ballroom, amplified through hidden speakers. "Please take your places for the Magical Matchmaking Ceremony!"
The humans cheered. I did not move. My gaze remained fixed on Tori as she stepped reluctantly toward the line forming across the ballroom floor. Her eyes found mine again. For a single moment the crowded room disappeared. The lights. The cameras. The watching contestants. All of it faded. There was only my mate. And the maddening reality that she stood twenty feet away… while the mating cuffs remained behind me in a fucking glass case.
I remained on the platform, my posture still, controlled, the perfect image of the stoic alien Warlord the producers wanted the audience to see. Inside, my restraint was fraying. Tori moved with the other contestants as they gathered near the center of the ballroom, her pale yellow skirts whispering across the polished floor. Every step she took pulled my attention with it. I tracked her unconsciously, the way a predator followed the movement of something vital to his survival, as she was to mine.
My hands curled slowly at my sides, and I focused on Tori’s taste on my lips. Her scent in the room. She was here. She was safe. She was mine. I could do this.
Jessica deliberately shifted her position, sliding directly into the space between Tori and me. Her purple gown shimmered under the chandeliers as she turned toward the platform, presenting herself like some triumphant queen awaiting tribute. The beast rumbled low in my chest.
"Warlord Egon!" Chet burst onto the platform beside me in a storm of ribbons and sequins, tiny bells attached to his boots jingling with every dramatic step. Tonight, he had apparently chosen the costume of an extravagant court jester, the hat on his head—and his costume—a brightly colored mix of purple, gold and blue. "Tonight, magic fills the air. True love awaits one lucky contestant! The magic of romance will guide the Warlord’s choice!"
My expression did not change. The muscles in my jaw tightened. Yes. I hated this. Every moment of this performance made my insides raw with need. Every moment my mate stood across the room without the mating cuffs threatened my fragile hold on my beast.
"The spell requires three ingredients!" Chet continued enthusiastically, producing a velvet pouch with a flourish. "A personal item surrendered by the female, a boon like those bestowed upon knights of old at tournament—symbolizing connection! A drop of wine—symbolizing passion! And…" He paused dramatically, lifting one glittering finger toward the ceiling. "A kiss—symbolizing destiny!"
The contestants gasped. Laughed. Whispered excitedly among themselves. The sound grated against my nerves. Tori stood near the center of the group, her hands clasped loosely before her. Her face was carefully composed, but I could feel the tension in her body even from across the room. The beast noticed, too.
Fuck this nonsense. Claim her.
You would abandon the others to their fate.
Yes. One word. Brutal honesty. The beast did not fucking care about any other male. He simply wanted what was ours.
"Warlord?" Chet prompted, holding the velvet pouch toward me. "Please select your ingredients and choose the lucky lady."
I took the pouch. The velvet felt absurd in my hand. I did not open it. Instead, I lifted my gaze. Straight to Tori. Her breath caught when our eyes met. The ballroom faded. All the glittering lights, the velvet costumes, the scent of wine and flowers—none of it mattered. Only her.
The beast surged forward instantly. My pulse deepened.
I stepped down from the platform. The room went quiet as I approached the contestants. Dozens of human females shifted eagerly, straightening their shoulders, adjusting their gowns, offering practiced smiles. Jessica lifted her chin proudly. The red-haired female beside her arched her back to emphasize her breasts.
