Mated To The Vikens (Interstellar Brides Book 8)(50)

And yet Sophia wasn’t a warrior. She wasn’t even Viken. She was a petite, smart, sassy, willful alien, but she’d taken on the VSS and survived. Twice, and neither time had I been there to defend her. Even Gunnar, the most ruthless of us, had been helpless.

And that was two times too many. And so I tried to ease my fears. It was over. She was safe. The VSS would not come after her, as she’d said. She was just a Viken bride now. Nothing more. And thank fuck for that.

It was now time to remind her of that, of the reason she’d been matched in the first place. She was our bride and tonight we would claim her together.

This time, the bath was more clinical than romantic. It had only been a day since we’d shared one before and yet so much had changed. I cleaned her body of every bit of dirt, of blood, and hopefully, in a way, her mind, of what had happened.

She wanted to be claimed by us, and we needed her fully ready. She’d said she was when we were out on the street, Dorn’s body sprawled behind us, but the adrenaline had worn off for all of us. Yes, the relief was palpable, but so were the memories.

It was my job, while Gunnar and Erik bathed elsewhere, to ease the worries from Sophia.

“I’m fine, Rolf,” she’d said, taking the soap from me. I’d washed her twice and apparently I was the one still upset. She was soothing me.

Using her finger to indicate I turn around, I did so. She washed my back and I groaned. The feel of her small hands was enticing. Knowing she was safe and whole and cleaning my back was like a balm to my fear.

“You had a trauma,” I told her, enjoying the way her fingers played over my shoulders.

“I’ve had a trauma for the past two years,” she replied. “It all started when my mother became sick, when she needed the expensive medicine. But no more. No more pain and suffering. No more bad guys. I’m ready for the future. Not the past. That’s what my mother would want. That’s what I want.”

I turned around and took her hands, looked at her dark eyes. She looked different with her hair slicked back. Simple. Pure. Perfect.

“You aren’t planning on fucking her all by yourself, are you?” Erik asked, naked as the day he was born, arms crossed. He and Gunnar stood beside the tub, grins on their faces.

We glanced up at them and I couldn’t miss the easy smile on Sophia’s face.

“All three of us are her mates. He doesn’t have enough cocks to do it,” Gunnar added. It was good to hear the teasing tone in his voice.

I grinned. “I could find a way.”

Sophia laughed and the sound eased something raw in me. Erik and Gunnar eased as well.

Perhaps it wasn’t my role to soothe the other two any longer. All along I’d been the peacemaker, the soother, the one who made light of the never-ending danger we’d faced fighting the Hive. Gunnar was a moody fuck and quick to anger. Hell, Erik had always just been downright angry. Sad, even. I’d always kept my feelings in check to help tame those two. But now, with Sophia, I couldn’t do that. I was just as raw and angry and frustrated as the others. I couldn’t tame them any longer. I could barely tame myself when it came to Sophia and danger.

But she’d soothed me. Eased my worries, my fears. My anger. It was her job now to tend to all three of us and I relished that. I needed it. I needed to know I could be angry or upset, mad or even fucking pissed and she wouldn’t care. She’d hug me, or wash my back, and make it all better again.

We belonged to her. And now, it was time for her to belong to all of us. Forever.

Gunnar held out his hand. “Come, love. Let’s make you ours.”





Chapter Eleven

Sophia



Ours. Oh, yes. I’d just fucked Gunnar—well, he’d actually fucked me and very thoroughly—just a short time ago. In the few hours since, everything changed. We’d found the guy who’d wanted me dead. Dorn had held an ion pistol to my head and I’d realized exactly how much my mates meant to me.

I’d been willing to die to protect Gunnar. No second guessing, no doubts. I’d fallen in love with my mates faster than should be possible. But that was, after all, exactly what Warden Egara at the bride processing center had promised me. The matching process was designed to find mates perfect for me. And, with that asshole’s hand around my throat and gun to my head, I realized they were perfect.

Rolf charmed and beguiled me with his golden good looks and smart wit. Erik’s passion and dedication, outspoken loyalty and dirty talk, combined with the fact that he looked like a Viking god, made me long to be in his arms. And Gunnar, my dark, brooding alpha male, had a heart so selfless, so dedicated to service and duty, that I ached each time I looked at him.