“You are aware that this time, Miss Day, or Daily, or whatever name you are using this week,” Warden Egara gave the FBI agent a withering glance, “you will not be able to return to Earth.”
“Yes. I know. I don’t want to be here. I want to be on Trion, with my matched mate.”
Warden Egara’s eyes softened just a bit, and I caught a glimpse of the beauty she’d be if she ever smiled. “The matching process is truly miraculous, Eva. I have witnessed it many times. It’s why I protect my brides so fiercely. The warriors who protect us, who protect all life on coalition worlds, deserve to be loved. They deserve to find true happiness. And when someone fucks with my warriors, I am not amused.” This last she directed at Agent Davidson, who had the grace to blush.
“My apologies. I already told you, I swear, I’ll never use your program to hide a bride again. You have my word.” The FBI agent held his hands up in complete surrender. I’d called Agent Davidson two weeks ago and told him I wanted to go back to Trion. At first, he hadn’t understood why I would want to do that. I wasn’t a prisoner and I’d certainly given more of myself than any other witness he’d ever helped before. He didn’t understand the matching process and most likely never would. Even though I’d tried to explain the connection I felt to Tark, more than once, he’d forced me to wait two full weeks, to think about it, before he would fulfill my request.
They had been two very long weeks of waiting. Knowing he would help me get back to Trion, and to Tark, filled me with eager anticipation. This time, I knew where I was going. This time, I knew who I was going to be with. This time, I wanted to go. If Tark wanted to bend me over a ceremonial stand and fuck me for the entire council to see, I didn’t even mind. Well, maybe a little, but it would be a worthy price to pay to be back in his arms and his life.
“Please, Warden Egara. Send me home.” I whispered the words as butterflies danced in my stomach. I sat back down on the chair and waited impatiently for the woman to start the process.
“We do not need to complete the matching tests again as they have been done once. However, protocol demands I ask, do you wish to reject your match and be sent to a different warrior?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I choose to keep my match to High Councilor Tark of Trion, permanently.”
Agent Davidson angled his head and studied me. “You love him.” It wasn’t a question and he said it with a hint of awe.
Nodding, I replied, “I do. I can, for a fact, Warden Egara, say that your matching program is indeed very good.”
The woman puffed up with pride and I could see she was eager to ask me questions about my time on another world, but her job took precedence. “That is good to hear.” She looked down at the screen she held and swiped at it a few times. “You are ready to transport to Trion and are permanently matched to High Councilor Tark. There will be no changes allowed.”
I grinned and gripped the armrests of the chair. Anticipation unlike I’d ever known before coursed through my veins. Come on, woman. Push the fucking button. “No. There will be no changes allowed.”
“Goodbye, Eva.” Agent Davidson gave me a reassuring nod.
Warden Egara pushed the processing chair toward the wall, but this time I was excited to see the small room appear beside me. I welcomed the bite of the needle in my neck and the bright blue light that meant I was going back to Trion. I looked over and caught Warden Egara’s eye. “Thank you.”
She actually smiled. “Your transport will begin in three, two, one.”
* * *
“This concludes the meeting of the council. We will meet again next year. During that time, safe travels and peace in your region.”
I stood, the men before me did as well. Even though we’d spent a week together working through the agenda, councilors stood and chatted, milling about. All I wanted to do was get the fark out of Outpost Nine. It only held memories of Eva. I saw her everywhere I went. And, knowing that she was not a murderer but instead a healer, everyone stopped me to ask after her. I’d finally forced Goran to post a notice of Eva’s return to Earth so I did not have to repeat it again and again.
Warning squawks came from the guards’ communication units. Everyone froze in place, awaiting word of the danger.
“A transport, high councilor.” The lead guard approached me, then looked down at his unit. “Unscheduled.”
“Origin?” I asked. While the guards could defend against attackers on Trion, defending an outpost against transport attacks directly from other worlds was much more difficult.