one
TAMSIN
The walls of Sanctuary City loomed behind me as I approached the compound, a monument to humanity’s defeat and subsequent salvation. Three years after the Monster Accord ended the Great Diaspora War, I still couldn’t decide if we’d won or lost. Survival came at a price, and for women like me—fertile and unattached—that price was spelled out in the Monster Matrimony Act. Protection and comfort in exchange for our bodies, our wombs, our futures. A bargain many were eager to make. I was not one of them, but here I stood anyway, clutching my meager belongings in a worn duffel bag, ready to meet whatever creature had been deemed my perfect match.
The Sanctuary Compound gleamed like an oasis amid the wasteland that surrounded it. Clean lines, chrome fixtures, and pristine white walls—a stark contrast to the rubble and ruin that made up most of what remained of the world. Inside those walls lived the last of humanity, protected from the radiation, the marauders, and the unregistered monsters that prowled the badlands.
I took a deep breath and stepped through the sliding doors of the regional hub, feeling the immediate rush of climate-controlled air against my skin. The scent of antiseptic and something floral hit my nostrils—so different from the acrid dust outside.
“Name?” A bored-looking receptionist barely glanced up from her tablet.
“Tamsin Wei.”
Her fingers tapped across the screen, eyes widening slightly. “Oh. You’re the special request.”
I frowned. “Special request?”
“Please proceed to processing station three. Your counselor is waiting.” She pointed down a hallway to my right, already looking past me to the next person in line.
Processing station three was a small, comfortable room with plush chairs and soothing blue walls. A woman with dark skin and thick black hair tied into an elegant knot rose to greet me, her smile warm and welcoming.
“Ms. Wei, I’m Counselor Patel. I’ll be guiding you through your acclimation period.” She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
I sat, placing my bag at my feet. “The receptionist called me a ‘special request.’ What does that mean?”
Counselor Patel’s smile didn’t falter, but I noticed the slight tightening around her eyes. “We’ll get to that. First, let’s go through your intake assessment.” She slid a tablet toward me. “Standard procedure. Blood work, fertility scan, psychological profile—all part of the matching protocol.”
I’d heard about the protocol. Biological compatibility, magical resonance, temperament profile, fertility cycles. The deep-compatibility soulbond test that made the matches permanent. I’d signed the consent forms weeks ago when my rations were cut for the third time. When the choice became bonding or starving.
“I’ve already done most of this,” I said, but took the tablet anyway.
“Yes, but the final matching requires fresh data.” She watched me carefully. “Are you having second thoughts, Ms. Wei?”
I laughed, the sound sharp and brittle in the quiet room. “Second thoughts would imply I had enthusiastic first thoughts. I’m here because I’m practical, not romantic. The wall keeps us safe, but I can’t live inside it without a bonded mate.” I looked her in the eye. “I’m a survivor, Counselor Patel. That’s all.”
“A valuable trait,” she replied, her voice genuine. “Many of our most successful matches have been with women who approach this pragmatically.”
I tapped through the questionnaire, giving the same answers I had before. No, I didn’t have specific preferences for my match’s appearance. Yes, I understood the bonding was permanent. No, I didn’t have any existing romantic attachments.
When I finished, Counselor Patel took the tablet and pressed her thumb to the scanner. Data flowed across the screen, and her eyes tracked the information rapidly.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“What?”
She set the tablet down. “Ms. Wei, your match is quite unique. He’s a security-class bonded protector.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s not just seeking a mate—he’s specifically trained to protect one. These types of matches are rare and usually reserved for women with special circumstances.”
I frowned. “I don’t have special circumstances. I’m nobody.”
“Someone doesn’t think so.” She tapped the screen again. “Your match was indeed a special request. He specifically asked for you.”
Cold washed through me. “That’s not possible. I don’t know any monsters.”
“Not all monsters are what you’d think. Many have been observing humans for quite some time, especially since the Accord. And some have preferences.”
