Grace Goodwin - The Commanders' Mate

“Oh, yes. You’ve been matched to Prillon Prime.” Her smile was genuine, if a bit sad. “It happens to be my personal favorite.”

“You’ve been there? Out there?” Holy shit. Had this woman actually been to outer space?

“Yes. I was mated to two Prillon warriors myself. Years ago.”

Years ago? She didn’t look all that old. Maybe thirty. Close to my age. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, but it only showed off how pretty she was. The dark gray of the IBP uniform did nothing for her, but it wasn’t as if she’d go to the bar with girlfriends while wearing it. Before the testing I had wondered if she was married, dating anyone. Now I wanted to know more about her mates, but didn’t ask. If she was here, and they weren’t, I had a feeling the answer wouldn’t be good.

“So why were there two mates?” I knew there were two, from my dream, but I was eager for an explanation. And she had just confirmed that she’d had two mates as well.

“The males of Prillon Prime are warriors, usually on the front lines of the fight. Most of the time they keep their brides with them on whichever battleship they serve. The warriors live most of their lives in space. They always claim a mate in pairs in case one of them is killed in battle. That way the surviving male can either choose another second, if their female agrees, or retire and move his family to Prillon Prime. Either way, one mate remains to care for his female and children.”

“That explains the two men in my dream.”

She looked up at me and gave me a wink, which made me blush. “Rather fabulous, wasn’t it?”

Forget blush, I was bright red now, the heat like a blowtorch under my cheeks. “Well, it was nice, but two?” My grandmother would roll over in her grave and start praying Hail Mary’s all over the place. I was going to hell. Straight. To. Hell.

Or Prillon Prime.

“You don’t sound excited about that.” The Interstellar Brides Program logo was repeated across the fabric of her uniform, not that I could forget where I was. Even though I was restrained to the chair, I tugged at the secure hold.

I arched a brow. “Two mates? I… I never thought about it before. I guess I knew it was a possibility, I mean, I’ve heard that brides who go to Viken have three men.”

“Three mates. They are not human, Ms. Roberts. But that’s right.” Her grin widened, but she looked down at her tablet to hide her reaction to my comment. “Three. Can you just imagine.”

Lord help me, I could. Which was not good. I was desperate to get back into the middle of a Prillon man-sandwich as quickly as possible. I didn’t need her asking me questions about where my head was right now, because I didn’t know. My vagina seemed to be in charge. And I didn’t want to think about the wetness soaking the gown under my ass. Or the little jolts of electricity still zinging through my pussy at random intervals. My ass, too.

“I just need to ask you a few questions before I can begin your processing.”

“Shoot.”

“I must make sure you are aware of your rights, Ms. Roberts. This will be recorded.” She stared at me, an impatient tilt to her head, eyes wide open as if to hurry me along.

“I understand.”

“Excellent. Ms. Roberts, as an Interstellar Bride, you may name a world, if you wish, and we will choose your mate from that world based on your assessment results. Or you may waive the right of naming and accept the results of the psychological assessment process. If you choose this option, you will be sent to the world, and the mate, that best matches your psychological profile. If you wish to meet your true mate, I highly recommend you choose the second option and follow the recommendations of the matching processors. We have been matching brides and their mates for hundreds of years.”

“Okay.” When I didn’t say more, she pursed her lips but continued.

“Are you currently married?”

“No.”

“Do you have any biological or adopted children you would be leaving behind?”

“No.” To have kids, first you had to find someone willing to…

“State your name for the record, please.”

“Erica Elaine Roberts.”

“Good. Good.” Her fingers flew over the tablet as we talked, as if she were checking off boxes for an exam. Seemed even aliens had bureaucracies and lots of red tape. “I am pleased to tell you, Ms. Roberts, that the system has made a successful match, and you will be sent to Battleship Varsten to meet your mate and I assume, his second. As a bride, you might never return to Earth, as all travel will be determined and controlled by your new planet’s laws and customs. You now surrender your citizenship of Earth and become an official citizen of your new world.”

Holy shit, now I was officially an alien?

I glanced down at my body, at the excess of curves and softness that no one seemed to want and figured what the hell? I felt like an alien half the time already. “I understand.”

The wall began to glow with a beautiful blue behind me, the light casting the warden’s face in shadows that seemed to haunt her somehow. Yet she still smiled. “You will have thirty days to decide if the primary candidate is acceptable. If, after thirty days, you are not satisfied with your mate, you will be assigned another mate on that world and transferred. You will have thirty days to accept or reject each candidate until you are satisfied with a mate.”

If they were anything like the males in my dream, there would be no need to trade them in for new ones. I’d be well satisfied. I couldn’t wait. “Okay.” That, it seemed, was my word of the day.

Warden Egara nudged the side of my chair as it slid toward the wall where a large opening appeared. I moved, chair and all, as if on a track, right into the newly revealed space on the other side of the wall.

The blue room was small and glowed, the color coming from streams of bright blue lights. My chair came to a stop and a robotic arm with a large needle moved silently closer to my neck. I winced as something pierced my skin.

Right. The NPU, or neural processing unit I read about in the handbook. A kind of universal translation thing that would make it so I could talk to my mates. Tell them what I wanted.

Where to touch me.

Wouldn’t do me any good to beg if they didn’t understand what I was saying.

Maybe I should get two of them. “How long does it take this translation thing to work?” I asked, speaking loudly because now Warden Egara was in the other room and everything was getting fuzzy.

“You might get a headache, but your transport is some distance. The NPU should be fully integrated prior to your arrival.”

Sweet. Meet hot, sexy aliens. Make them fall madly in love and claim me forever. No problem.

Unless they didn’t like big, beautiful women from Earth. Or smart women. Or opinionated women. Or tall women. Or women who don’t like to be treated like a doormat.

Then I was screwed.

The injection site tingled and a sense of lethargy and contentment made my body go limp. There had been more than just an alien computer chip in that injection. Drugs? Good drugs. Something was making me very, very sleepy and happy. But whatever. I felt too good to worry about it as I was lowered into a bath of warm blue liquid. I was so warm, so numb…

“Relax, Erica. You’re going to a good place.” Her finger touched the display in her hand, and her voice drifted to me as if from far, far away. “Your processing will begin in three… two… one…”

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