Grace Goodwin - Viken Command

“Does this mean I can leave soon?”

She smiled. “I’m glad you’re eager for your mate.”

“You said mate, but you also said three of them. Which is it?” I asked, confused.

“You were matched to one Viken male. Their new custom is to claim a bride as a trio, one from each sector of their planet. It is possible you will only have one mate, but I suspect three.”

“I dreamed of three,” I admitted.

She offered a slight shrug, but a spark lit her eyes. “Lucky you. I can’t say with certainty, but I would guess you will have three.”

Three. Three mates. Holy fuck. Remembering the dream, it didn’t seem all that bad of a concept. “Works for me. I’m eager to get the hell off Earth.”

She looked down at her tablet. “You’ve volunteered. You’re not a convicted felon choosing an alternate to their punishment.”

“You don’t recognize me?”

I wasn’t vain, but I was famous. Sadly.

She looked up at me, studied me. “Ah.”

“That’s all you want to say? Ah? My family robbed thousands of people out of their retirement and savings. Destroyed lives. You don’t want to yell at me? Hate me?”

She looked at me with eyes that held not pity but understanding.

“From the news reports, you had no involvement in your family’s crimes.”

I squirmed in the chair. “No. My parents and brother live in New York. I’ve been living in California since college. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

“I do, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

“Then you want to hear the rest of it? That while I was in college and grad school, my family created a pyramid scheme and stole millions from unsuspecting people? That we hadn’t been rich enough from my father’s hedge fund, and they were greedy enough to steal more?”

She shrugged. “To be honest, Miss Mason, I want to ensure you aren’t fleeing the planet to get away from a crime.”

I stood then, not caring that my ass was hanging out of the back of the stupid gown.

“I’m leaving the planet because I can’t get a job. No one will hire me. I’ve lost all my friends. I can’t walk down the street without people either jeering me, or a paparazzi camera shoved in my face. I’m never going to find a guy. My life is ruined all because of my family. I’m innocent, and no one cares. They’re out for blood, and I’m the only blood left that’s not behind bars. Do you have any idea what it’s like to not trust anyone? ”

She studied me for a moment. “Very good.”

I sighed, a little because she’d gotten me riled up, and a little because I was relieved. She wasn’t going to deny me this new life just because of my miserable family.

“Do you wish to claim the right of naming your world, Miss Mason? Or do you submit to the processing center’s placement protocols?”

I thought of the three men and how my body still felt.

“I accept Viken.”

“Very good. Let’s begin the placement selection protocol. For the record, state your name.”

“Whitney Mason.”

“Are you currently, or have you ever, been married?”

I laughed at that. “No.”

“Have you produced biological offspring?”

I frowned. “Biological offspring?”

She glanced up at me. “Children. Have you given birth to any biological offspring?”

“No.”

“Are you legally responsible for any minors?”

“No. Why do you ask me that?”

The warden lifted her gaze and met mine, the look in her eyes said she was the one who asked the questions. “You’d be surprised, Miss Mason. Although I can’t fathom their reasoning, there are women who choose to leave their minor children behind on Earth. The Coalition races are very protective of their mates and children, whether biological or adopted. They do not approve of allowing any parent to abandon a child.”

That I completely understood. “But what if a woman can’t have children at all? I mean, what if she’s got fertility issues? Does that mean she can’t volunteer?”

The warden smiled at that question. “No. Of course not. There are many warriors who simply want a mate to share their life. Should a woman not wish to have children or be unable for whatever reason, there is a mate out there perfect for her. If the issue is a medical one, often the more advanced technology of the Coalition can resolve the problem.”

“Okay, but what if it can’t? What if she just can’t have kids? Or if she had her tubes tied or something. It’s not like they can just grow new fallopian tubes. Or what if she doesn’t want them?”

She sighed. Weren’t other women who came in to be tested as curious as me?

“The Interstellar Brides Program is about finding love and happiness. For many—human and alien—that has nothing to do with children, Miss Mason. The system matches you to your perfect mate, Whitney. Not the other way around. The testing doesn’t find a female for a male, but a male for a female.”

Warden Egara took a breath, then continued. “The match is a good one because the male who is chosen to be yours is the most highly compatible with your needs and desires. The focus is on making the female happy and content. The Coalition figured out, long ago, that females are the heart and soul of a strong community and, for many dominant warriors who long for someone to protect and care for, a contented life.”

Well, that was a lot of information that I hadn’t counted on, but it did make me feel better. Not that I didn’t want children. Frankly, I hadn’t thought about it that much with all the insanity going on around my family, and politics, racism, climate change, and just the expense of raising a child these days. But maybe, if I met the right man—or alien—I would be inspired.

“What about the rest of it?”

“You mean if someone has had a tubal ligation? Will a ReGen pod fix that?”

I didn’t know what a ReGen pod was, so I just nodded.

“A tubal isn’t something that’s broken, Whitney. It doesn’t need to be fixed. Also, unless the surgery was recent, and the body not yet recovered, the ReGen pod would’ve considered the site inactive and already healed.”

That, I guessed, was true.

“And, before you ask, if you were missing an arm, it wouldn’t grow it back. ReGen pods can’t heal everything. And even things it can heal might not be achievable if delayed too long.”

Now I was on a roll, so why not go for broke? I was nothing if not curious. One of my biggest weaknesses, my mother had often told me. I never could just mind my own damn business. “What about gay aliens? Alternate lifestyles? What about lesbians? Are there female fighters who want brides?”

“Are you telling me that you are a lesbian, Miss Mason?”

I shook my head. “No. But my cousin is. She’s single and just as miserable as I was trying to date these days.”

Warden Egara lifted her brows, but there was a twinkle in her eye as if she were enjoying the strange turn of the conversation. I would imagine that saying the same thing over and over every day would get a bit boring. Protocol this and protocol that.

“Yes, we have processed some lesbian brides. For now, the Brides testing is primarily female. However, there are several races which request gay males for matings. I just processed a gay match two days ago. It was my third.”

“What?” Holy shit, I’d been kidding. Mostly.

“What if the gay guy is a volunteer fighter, and he just meets another hot alien guy in a bar?”

She actually laughed, and the happiness on her face transformed her from a severe-looking woman to, well, beautiful. And she wasn’t as old as I’d first thought, either. Probably not even thirty. “Well, they’d have to wait to settle down together until their two years of service was up, but yes, I’m sure that happens as well.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Except in space, the bars are normally called canteens.”