Claimed By The Vikens

by Grace Goodwin

  Today it felt like twenty.

  Mindy had crushed me with this one, and even now, I tried not to cry at the stinging rejection. It was worse than any boyfriend breakup. Worse than when our parents ditched us at our cousin’s house and never came back. Worse than the rejection letter I’d gotten from my dream college. Worse even than the fact that Mindy had refused to apply to college and decided to be a dental hygienist instead.

  I hated teeth. Hated the dentist. I’d wanted to be an architect, but between my less than perfect grade point average and my very average college entrance exam scores, the big universities hadn’t exactly lined up to throw scholarship money my direction. When Mindy had refused to even apply, I’d given in to the inevitable and gone to trade school. Now I did technical drafting for a group of fifty-year-old men with potbellies, whose angry wives and teenage children treated me like I was their personal servant and deliveryman when they showed up at the office.

  Mindy leaving me felt like dying. Part of me was dying, in so much pain I could barely think. The other half of me was so freaking angry I wanted to beat the crap out of her the moment I saw her on Trion. Scream at her. Slap her across the face and demand an explanation. Did she hate me so much?

  Whoever my new alien husband was, he was going to have to deal with the fact that finding my sister was my number one priority. Once I was sure she was okay and I murdered her, then we could get naked. Then I’d let myself live in dreamland for a hot minute and have a couple of—hopefully—mind-blowing orgasms with a sexy alien hunk who was all mine.

  I wasn’t violent. I’d never been violent. Never punched anyone, never been in a fist fight. That was Mindy’s territory. I was the quiet one. The responsible one. Always in control. Always thinking two or three or ten steps ahead. She got us into trouble and I got us out.

  But I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to get her out of this one. Terrified I’d lost her forever. Just damn terrified.

  I didn’t want to be alone. Truly alone. I’d never been alone. And my sister had always needed me. Always. Now? Now, I was just drifting and useless. I felt lost.

  And, of course, she’d left the message while I was in my weekly company meeting, so I couldn’t stop her. I was here being tested eight weeks and two days after Mindy. And I was terrified. I’d finally made the decision, gotten in my car and drove. It was one of the only truly irresponsible things I’d ever done in my life. I hadn’t terminated my lease, sold my stuff, or even cancelled my cell phone plan.

  The world could figure it out after I was gone. Out of here. Reunited with my sister.

  Besides, if I thought about it too much—or any more than I already had—it would feel too permanent, too scary, and I was afraid I’d lose my nerve.

  I would be on Trion soon, now that I’d accepted the match, and could track her down and give her the kick in the ass she deserved. Or painful death by my hands—then I’d hug her to make sure we really were together again. It wasn’t as if our parents ever hugged us, took any responsibility for us. We’d had to take care of each other since forever.

  “Great.” The warden sounded pleased as she swiped her finger over her small tablet. As she did so, she continued, “I don’t always have brides so eager to go. Usually convicted felons do not volunteer so readily.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m no convict, but I definitely am eager. My sister was matched.”

  She glanced up at me briefly. “That’s nice.” Her tone said that factoid was completely irrelevant. As if. “I have a few standard details to go over with you before I can begin preparations for transport.”

  “Go for it,” I prompted, eager to get this show on the road.

  “State your name for the record.”

  “Violet Nichols.”

  “Are you legally married?”

  Yeah, right. “No.”

  “Do you have any biological or legal offspring?”

  “You mean some women leave a kid behind?” I asked, not answering the simple question.

  “This eliminates that possibility,” she replied, although there was probably a story there.

  “No. I don’t have any kids.”

  “You agree to this match of your own free will?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I do. Where do I sign?”

  “Verbal agreement is all that is required, Violet, since everything is recorded and saved. Thank you.”

  I wasn’t too keen to know my steamy dream had been recorded, but the warden had said I wasn’t the only woman to come out of the testing all hot and bothered. I was just another face to them. Another test, another transport. And soon, I’d be on Trion. Earth and this testing center would be far, far away.

  “Great.” I wiggled my bare feet up and down on the hard chair, energized. Maybe it was the hot dream orgasm that had me motivated to go. I’d get my sister back and meet my new, smoking hot alien mate.

  “Wonderful. That is the last of the required questions.” She stepped back and a seam appeared in the wall, lit by faint blue light. A section of the wall slid away and the chair moved sideways into some kind of cocoon chamber. Holy shit. I was going to Trion. Like now. Right now.

  I closed my eyes until something pinched me just behind my ear. I yelped at the sting, but Warden Egara’s voice calmed me. “That’s just your Neural Processing Unit, Violet, so you can speak their language. You’re doing just fine.”

  I pushed out a breath, let my shoulders relax. This was really happening. I was headed to see Mindy. “Just get me that one-way ticket to Trion and I’ll be all set.”

  She frowned. “Trion?”

  I tried to lift my hands, rub my wrists, even though they didn’t hurt. I wanted to fidget, tuck my hair back behind my ear, shift in the hard, pseudo-dentist chair. And that ear pinch wasn’t anything like Novocain. This place, so far, was much better than the dentist. Only sexy man dreams. “Yes, Trion. That’s where I will be sent.”

  The warden blinked at me, then cocked her head to the side. “Why do you believe you were matched to Trion?”

  “My sister is there, so that’s where I’ll be sent, too.” I was absolutely certain of it. We were twins. Identical. Where one went, the other followed. Always.

  “How nice for your sister,” the warden said neutrally, as if she’d offered this bland statement to other siblings before. “But you were not matched to Trion.”

  My jaw went slack and I stared at the woman wide-eyed. “Of course, I was. I’m going to Trion.”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No, Miss Nichols. You’ve been matched to Viken. A ninety-seven percent match, which is quite remarkable considering you have to be matched to three warriors.”

  Holy shit. Three? Did she just say three warriors?

  No. This was all wrong. Sure, the dream had been hot. Super hot. Amazing. But it wasn’t what I needed. I needed to go to Trion. It was my turn to frown.

  “Viken? Where the hell is Viken? I’ve never heard of that planet.” I yanked at the restraints, suddenly very eager to get the hell out of this chair before Warden Egara pushed some magic button and sent me to the wrong freaking planet. There was no way I was going to Viken. Mindy was on Trion. Trion.

  “Viken is a small planet known for its—”

  I glared at her. “I don’t care about Viken.” Yanking harder, I winced when the restraints cut into my skin. I swung my legs over the side and pulled, twisted, trying to get up. “No. I don’t want to go to Viken.”

  “Why not? Your subconscious testing dictated that it was your best match.”

  I put my hands up in the stop gesture even though my wrists were pinned down. “No way. I refuse.”

  “You’ve already been matched,” she replied. “You accepted the match, verbally and for the record. My hands are tied.”

  Yeah, so were mine. I tugged on the restraints once again.

  “Per protocol, I must send you to the place with the highest probability of a successful match, and that is Viken.”

  I shook my head. This was wrong.
So wrong. But they needed brides, right? The brides program had advertisements all over the place. TV. Online. The sides of buses. They were desperate, right? So she’d send me where I wanted to go. She had to. “I’m sorry, Warden. But no. If I’m not going to Trion, I’m going home.”

  “This is unheard of, Miss Nichols.” Her eyes weren’t sad anymore, but the look I saw there was worse. Pity. “You are giving up a chance at true happiness, Violet. I cannot send you to Trion. The matching protocols are very specific. Now that you’ve been matched, my hands are tied. I can’t send you to another planet knowing you’ll be unhappy.”

  Turning, I narrowed my eyes at the woman. “Warden Egara, I’m not going to Viken.” I closed my mouth, gritted my teeth and spit out, “It’s Trion, with my sister, or nothing.”

  “But—”

  “Get me out of here, please. I’m going home.”

  The warden just stared at me for a full minute, obviously thinking about what she was going to do. Didn’t women ever reject their matches? I would assume women said ‘No’ all the time. I mean, cold feet seemed reasonable at a time like this. Right?

  Or was I the idiot here? Turning down a chance at true happiness? But no. There was no happiness without my sister. She was my other half. I didn’t need a man—or three—for that. I needed to know she was safe. Happy. I knew I’d never be happy until I knew she was all right. I swore taking care of her was in my DNA.

  “If you don’t let me get up off this chair, I’m going to start screaming.”

  She walked toward me and held my gaze. “You’re making a mistake, Violet.”

  “No, I’m not. I can’t go to Viken.”

  Her sigh was so deep I swore it rattled my bones, and definitely rattled my nerves. “Very well.”

  The chair slid back into the main room, the weird doors sliding shut, the blue light disappearing. Then, the restraints retracted almost magically and I got up so fast I nearly ran her over, rubbing that sore spot behind my ear that now had a weird, painful lump. It wasn’t a mistake. I’d just have to find another way to get to Trion.

  There had to be another way.

  2

  Calder, Planet Viken, Viken United, Transport Station #4b

  She was coming. My mate. Gods, finally. My heart raced and I took deep breaths to calm my anticipation. Two years. Two fucking years of waiting for her. She’d been out there all this time, unknown to me, unknown to being matched to me. Ninety-seven percent perfect. The other three percent? We’d work it out. As soon as she arrived.

  I stared at the empty transport pad, one in a long line of fifteen at this transport center. It was the largest in Viken United, the busiest as well. Fighters, guards, mates all came in and out of here, arriving from distant planets like my mate from Earth, others to a possible battlegroup. I looked down the line, saw a couple materialize side by side, holding hands. He wore the black uniform and arrow insignia of being from Sector Two, she the usual soft, simple dress of a Viken mate.

  Envy coursed through me, swift and fierce. I wanted to hold my mate’s hand, be with her in every way. Know that she was beside me, safe and mine. Mine.

  I tapped my toe with impatience. I’d been summoned three hours ago with the news I’d finally been matched. How long did it take for her to arrive? I knew Earth to be light years away, but didn’t the transport technicians know that every second I waited was like ripping out my heart? She was mine. It was official. She’d accepted and was coming. Mine.

  Mine!

  “Calder, good to see you.”

  I turned at my name, saw a familiar face. “You as well. It’s Zed, right?” I asked. The tall male nodded, his short hair had a hint of curl and slid over his forehead as he did so.

  “Yes, it’s been a long time. It was the mission to Sector Twenty-seven, I think.”

  I thought back to when we’d met, when we’d fought together. “Three years or so. That was a fucking mess. Glad to be alive after that.” I didn’t want to think about the massacre we’d survived. A battlegroup had been caught by the Hive on all sides. We’d had to band together, squadrons of fighters as well as I.C. for over two weeks. The Hive had killed or integrated so many before the reinforcements finally came. We’d been pinned down and I’d gotten to know the others. Battle did that, created bonds that couldn’t be compared in any other setting.

  His face was grim and I knew he, too, thought back to that time. “I retired six months after that.”

  In his black uniform, it matched my memory of him, indicating he was from Sector Two. The red band around his arm matched the red adorning mine. I wore brown, to represent my sector, but I was part of the royal guard. The red bands only worn by those of us in direct service to the kings. But I hadn’t seen Zed around Viken United. I was part of the queen’s private guard, and completely enamored of the little princess, Allayna. I adored watching the three kings with their mate and daughter, but each day it became harder to bear. The loneliness pressing in on me like a poison. I needed my mate. Needed a family of my own to protect and cherish. Family was the only thing that mattered, and I had none. Until today.

  My mate was due to arrive any moment and I was having a hard time keeping the stern look on my face. “It’s been two years for me since I retired from the Coalition. Stationed here in Viken United as a guard now. The VSS might flare up here and there, but they’re nothing like the Hive, thank fuck.”

  I was content with a quieter life, the simple Viken life. Nature, land. I wasn’t fit for space, the home planet suited me much better. Ground beneath my feet, trees around, thick leaves overhead. Yes, peace. I’d done my time as a fighter and I’d earned the right to a bride. And finally, after waiting so long, my match was here. My mate was coming. I’d have everything I wanted.

  He smiled at that. “Agreed.” He angled his head. “I’m up at the IQC.” The Interstellar Quantum Communications Array was on the far pole of the planet, covered in ice, snow and rock. It was a wasteland only the heartiest animals could survive. And the toughest warriors.

  “Fucking freezing,” I commented. While I liked living in the more urban areas of Viken United, the IQC meant solitude. He wasn’t alone at the outpost, but it was fucking isolated. From his calm and quiet demeanor, he seemed to be content with that.

  He shrugged. “You get used to it.” A slow smile spread across his face. “And it won’t be so bad when I have my mate to keep me warm at night.”

  The idea of sharing my bed with my own mate had my cock stirring. I shifted my stance. “You’re here for your mate?”

  He grinned. “Got word a few hours ago that I’ve been matched.” His chest puffed with the obvious pride that I, too, was feeling. “Can’t wait.”

  I slapped him on the shoulder convivially. “Congratulations. I’m here for my mate, too. Just waiting for her to transport.” I sighed. “Fuck, I’m right there with you. The idea of sharing my bed, my life, with the female meant solely for me has me rock hard.”

  Nodding in understanding, he said, “You know us from Sector Two, we love bondage. I can’t wait to tie my mate to my bed.” He leaned in, although he didn’t seem to care if anyone overheard. It wasn’t a secret what those from each sector liked to do sexually. “I’m not going to let her up until she has at least five orgasms. Hells, even then, I probably won’t let her up.”

  The idea of tying my mate to my bed was appealing, not because I was into restraints, but because I’d know she wasn’t going anywhere. No, I’d rather show her off. I might fuck her in private until we got to know each other, until I got this clawing need sated, but then we’d go outside, the public square where everyone could witness just how beautiful she was when she came all over my cock. How she was all mine. I’d flaunt her perfection and let everyone see my seed marking her, know she was off limits, that my Earth woman was all mine and mine alone.

  I growled at the thought of anyone else touching her. I glanced at the transport pad. Where the fuck was she? Anticipation had me glancing at Zed. “Well,
congrats again. Don’t let me keep you from your mate.”

  “Right. Same to you. You better get going. I’d hate for you to miss her arrival.”

  I frowned. “I won’t. She’s coming in here.” I pointed to the raised dais where she would appear. Fucking soon. Any second now.

  “No, my mate’s coming in here. This is transport pad three, right?”

  We both turned to glance at the transport technician standing behind his work station. There was a long line of work stations with a technician at each, fifteen all in a row. “Pad three,” he confirmed.

  “There must be some mistake,” I said.

  “That’s right, there must be some kind of fucking mistake.” We looked to the Viken who all but growled those words. He walked toward us, the entry door to this section of the transport center sliding closed behind him. “My mate is arriving on transport pad three.”

  He wore the gray uniform with the spear insignia of a member of Sector Three. His red arm band identified him as royal guard, but the dark eyes and clenched jaw—along with the equally clenched fists—indicated he was all fighter. I’d seen him before. Queen’s guard. Night shift. I was much more active and alert in the morning, so it was no surprise that we hadn’t spoken. There were dozens of us, and we didn’t share quarters. And since Zed didn’t offer a flicker of recognition, it seemed they weren’t known to each other either.

  “Your mate?” Zed and I said at the same time.

  “My mate,” he retorted, patting himself on the chest.

  Something was wrong. All three of us turned to the transport technician. He was small of stature, almost a head shorter than all of us, his eyes widening under our intensity. He swallowed visibly with us looming.

  “We have identified a problem and we need you to resolve it,” I said, placing my hand on the top of his work station. I was used to giving orders—not that the others weren’t—but I’d been waiting here longer and I was done with patience and was ready to go Atlan beast because of any kind of problem. I wanted my mate and I wanted her now. “Discover the pad location of each of our mates at once. Are you set to receive three females here in the next few minutes?”