Rachel was the only matched mate assigned to the Colony from the brides program. There were a few female warriors banished to the Colony because of their Hive integrations, but they had been claimed quickly, mated and settled. Rachel, though, was different. She was from Earth, knew nothing of our ways, of the ways of any of the other planets’ warriors who lived on the Colony. Nor did she know what it was like to be contaminated. She was the only untainted one among us living on the Colony. She was the alien here.
I tried to imagine the courage it would take for her to leap into her new life, and found myself in awe of our lovely bride once more. She laughed and talked and smiled, no matter the oddity or deformity left by the Hive, from strange silver eyes with no color, to completely artificial limbs made of metal, or bald heads coated with neural wiring, she treated all with generosity and respect.
She made me proud and shocked that I was lucky enough to be one of her chosen warriors. I realized earlier, as I watched her reach out and touch a male’s metallic arm without flinching, saw the shocked wonder in the Atlan warrior’s eyes, that she wasn’t mine.
I was hers.
Three days, and she owned me.
Then there was the Earth warrior. I should rip his head from his shoulders for the interest our mate had in him. But it was not lust, but keen interest in seeing a somewhat familiar face, or at least familiar facial features. He’d brought a smile to her pursed lips and eased the tenseness of her shoulders. Maxim or I could have fucked her to soothe her, but her need to find someone similar, with similar customs and backgrounds, would not have been appeased. We were not from Earth.
And so, albeit grudgingly, we let her near Captain Brooks. They spoke of strange things such as burritos and something called a TV with a familiarity I envied.
Prime Nial rose and we all turned to listen as he lifted his glass in a salute. “We wish to hear about our newest—and only—Colony mate.”
A shiver raced over Rachel’s skin and her anxiety at being the center of attention hit me hard, right in the chest.
Beneath the table, I placed my hand on her thigh, a sign that her mates were here with her. Her gaze lifted to mine, then Maxim’s, and finally to Prime Nial. I followed suit, turning to look at the new Prime of our home world. He was average height for a Prillon warrior, but his left eye was completely silver, as was a good portion of the left side of his face. He was clearly contaminated with Hive technology, and I’d heard rumors that much of the left side of his body was silver as well.
He was frightening to look upon, but by some miracle, by the grace and love of the woman seated next to him, he had challenged for leadership of our world and changed things, for all of us.
Rachel licked her lips and I turned to find her gaze had drifted from Prime Nial to his second, Ander. Ander was not contaminated, not by Prillon standards. He did not have Hive implants. But he was huge, even for a Prillon warrior. His face was scarred, a blade clearly having nearly cut his eye from the socket, the deep, wide scar running from mid-forehead, through his brow, over his eye where the gash continued from cheek to chest.
I wondered how he’d survived. And, perhaps even more miraculously, how such a beauty as Queen Deston could love a silver-eyed contaminate and a scarred monster.
Their combined presence was like a drug to every Colony warrior. The Prime was contaminated far beyond most of the warriors here, myself included. If there was hope for him, and for ugly fucking bastards like Ander, there was hope for all of us.
Prime Nial tilted his head at my mate and raised his brow in an obvious command for her to respond. I squeezed her thigh again and Maxim settled his hand at the base of her neck. We surrounded her with strength and she took a deep breath to answer her new leader, for she was one of us now. I wasn’t going to let her go.
“I am…well, I was…a biochemist. I got my PhD last year and was in charge of research and development at a drug company on Earth called GloboPharma.”
Queen Deston, Jessica, leaned forward, her expression pleased. “You’re a doctor? That’s so cool. What were you working on?”
“Not a medical doctor, but a doctor of science,” Rachel clarified. “I worked in a research lab on a cure for cancer.” Rachel shook her head, her smile sad. “But we killed more people than we helped. The CEO falsified my reports with the FDA to get the drug approved. When it hit the market things went bad, people died, and they hung the whole thing on my head and walked away with a slap on the wrist and some fines.”
I didn’t know what the abbreviations meant but I knew she’d been falsely accused and found guilty.
“That stinks. But why were you in jail? They don’t usually put people away for stuff like that, do they?” Queen Deston took a sip of her dark purple wine and looked at my mate over the rim of the glass. “Or did you volunteer for the brides program?”