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Mated to the Beast(9)

By:Grace Goodwin


“Begin the transport then,” I growled. “I am ready.”

The doctor’s assistant jumped and went to work at a wall screen near my feet, his gaze darting frantically from one item to another as his fingers flew over the controls. “Oh, um… yes. Well.”

I tilted my head and looked up at him. He was a large warrior, not the size of an Atlan or Prillon fighter, but not small either. He’d been overly talkative, as most medical crew tended to be, but he wasn’t just chatting now, he was flustered for some reason. Here I was, strapped to this table, torn between the need to fuck my mate and rip another Hive soldier to pieces, as he fumbled with the controls as if he’d never used them before. His ineptitude did not make it easier for me to maintain control.

“Let me get the doctor.” The man dashed off before either of us could question him. In seconds, he was back with the small female doctor, her lush curves emphasized by the standard dark green instead of the assistant’s gray. But I was too far gone to respect her knowledge or experience, or the fact that she very likely outranked me. I saw only a woman who needed fucking.

“I am Doctor Rone. I have just been told that while your match has been made, there is a slight complication.”

My hands curled into fists and I fought against the tight restraints as the beast within raged, unhappy with this news. “What is the complication?” My voice was clipped and sharp.

The doctor cleared her throat and looked down at a data stream flowing across the portable tablet she carried. “Warlord Dax, your matched mate is a human woman from a planet called Earth. Her name is Sarah Mills. She is twenty-seven years of age, fertile, and meets all coalition bride processing requirements, but one.”

Sarah Mills. Sarah Mills was mine. I looked at the back side of the tablet, eager for a look at my mate. “I would see her likeness.”

The doctor shrugged, as if it made no difference to her, and held out the tablet so that I could see the dark-haired beauty staring out from the data screen. She was stunning and elegant, with delicate lines, arched brows, and a strong jaw more refined than any Atlan female’s. Her long dark hair curved in waves and came to rest just below her shoulders. Her pink mouth looked ripe for kissing… or fucking. My hard cock jumped as I imagined her taking me in her mouth. I nearly came right there on the exam table. The sight of her intense, dark eyes made my mating fever so much harder to control. She was mine, and I wanted her now. Right fucking now. “Where is she?”

The doctor averted her gaze and stepped back, the tablet held protectively against her waist as she looked at Commander Deek for permission to speak.

What the fuck was going on with my mate?

“Where. Is. She?” I bellowed the question and all eyes in the medical station turned with curiosity in our direction. I tensed as the male Prillon doctor stepped in our direction, prepared to fight my way out of here if necessary. My little female doctor waved him off, apparently confident I wouldn’t cause harm even though I was ready to rip this ship apart if the doctor didn’t answer me.

Commander Deek rubbed his eyes and shook his head. We both knew this wasn’t going to be good. “You’d better just tell us, doc.”

The small female doctor remained composed, which was remarkable since my anger and frustration were setting off alarms across an entire wall of biological monitoring equipment. “I’m afraid she was reassigned—to a combat unit.”





Chapter Three





Dax



“Reassigned?” What? How did a matched mate become something else? The matching protocols used were precise and had been routine for hundreds of years. Once a match was made, there was no changing it unless the female found her mate unacceptable and asked for another. Even then, the psychological profile used by the process guaranteed the bride would be assigned a mate from the same planet.

“How can that be possible?” Commander Deek asked.

“Your match was made with an Earth woman.” The doctor resumed her matter-of-fact perusal of the tablet data and ran her fingers over it a few times before looking at me again. “When she was processed for a match, you were not yet in the system. And since Earth allows their women to serve in combat positions, she elected to be reassigned to an active duty combat unit.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” I was afraid I already knew the answer and could feel my rage building. What type of idiots allowed their weak, soft, helpless females to fight? “Where is she?”

The doctor’s eyes filled with pity and the beast raged. “She’s in Sector 437, in command of her own recon unit assigned to the Battlegroup Karter.”