Mated to the Cyborgs(29)

I bathed and dressed quickly, standing on the odd S-Gen pad, a smooth black structure in the corner of the living quarters. A bright green light scanned my body and I stepped down when Hunt told me to. To my delight and fascination, I watched as a matching set of pants, tunic and soft soled boots appeared on in the middle of the pad, as if they’d been transported from a store. They fit perfectly, the fabric clinging without being too tight, as if it had been made for me. The tunic had sleeves that fell to just above my elbows, the neckline was cut to highlight and draw attention to my collar, dipping and swirling just below the black ribbon, and the tunic fell to mid-thigh, covering my ass so I didn’t feel like all the junk in my trunk was going to be on display.

The clothes were, as Hunt insisted, the same dark midnight blue of his and Tyran’s collars, but I really didn’t mind. I liked knowing they wanted to shout to the world that I was theirs.

I was just pulling on the second boot when some kind of speaker next to the door exploded with sound.

“Captain Hunt! We need you now! There’s been an attack!”

I slammed my foot in the boot and stood as someone pounded on the door. Hunt waved his hand over the control panel and the door slid away to reveal four armed warriors in full armor, like Tyran had worn the day before. “Captain, the governor commands you and Lady Zakar to meet him in command. Now.”

“Is Lady Rone there?” I blurted, before Hunt could stop me. I assumed that I was Lady Zakar. Another change I’d have to get used to.

The warrior looked at me, his eyes drinking me in now that he had permission. He was staring, but not in a creepy way. More like fascination, or awe. Like I was a ghost or an angel about to disappear. “Yes, my lady.”

Hunt turned to me and I could see the order forming on his face. He was turning from gentle mate to hardened leader before my eyes. I shook my head, knowing what he was thinking. “Nope. No way, Hunt. I’m going. I was in law enforcement on Earth. I’m going, and I want one of those guns.” I motioned to the four guards, each of whom carried a full sized rifle of some sort. The warriors were all like my mates, Prillon, their skin ranging from dark gold to a dark brown, nearly the color of black coffee. They were huge and intimidating as hell. I really, really wanted that gun.

Holding out his hand to me, he relented. “I don’t have time to argue and the governor wants you there. Stay close.” He frowned. “But no gun.”

Satisfied, for the moment, I took his hand. But I eyed the thigh holsters on two of the warriors as we walked behind them down the hall. There were smaller, silver space guns of some kind strapped to their legs. They couldn’t be that much different than my standard issue Beretta. Before the day was over, one of them was going to be mine.



* * *





Tyran, Base 3, Command Room



Seeing my mate so happy meeting Lady Rone was the only thing keeping me from ripping the heads off of every male in the room as if I were an Atlan beast. I felt Kristin’s relief at meeting someone else from Earth, at not being the only female. I would remember this moment when we were too much for her. Two Prillon warrior mates would be a difficult transition even for a Prillon female. But one from Earth, where I knew the men were much smaller? I’d fought beside human warriors. They were brave and fierce, and at least a head shorter than either Hunt or myself.

Hunt and I had to be much more than Kristin probably expected.

But she’d done well with us, between us, taking our cocks and staking a claim of her own. Thank the gods for the collars. They’d allowed us all to push through questions that, because of the strip about our necks, need not be answered. I didn’t have to wonder if I was making my mate happy at any given moment. What others would be forced to guess, were, for us, givens. Add to that the testing match and I felt confident where Kristin was concerned. I watched her every move, the smallest change in her body or her expression. My obsession combined with the knowledge I gained about her emotions and needs through the collars fed my confidence in her, in our match.

What I was not so calm about was me.

I was a threat to anyone who stepped near her. I would rather kill myself than hurt my mate, and I’d used every ounce of my control to keep my strength at bay when we were together. I’d been rough and commanding, but I had been gentle. I’d come back from my time with the Hive as less Prillon and perhaps more beast. I didn’t know my own strength and I had a hair trigger control. I’d been deliberate in guarding my emotions, always remaining on the periphery, watching, following Hunt’s lead these last three years.

Hunt led. I kept myself in check. It was a system that had been working perfectly.