I reached out and patted its hand. “Since we have some extra time before the pageant starts, I need a favor.”
Thorvid shot me a suspicious glance.
“Nothing that will get you in any trouble. I promise.”
“What is it?”
“I need to make a com call back to Earth.”
Thorvid crossed its arms over its tiny chest, its nose-braid shivering in disapproval. “That’s not allowed.”
“I know. But I promise I’m not calling anyone I shouldn’t be. It’s just—I was with a girlfriend when my name was drawn, and I know she’s got to be worried about what’s going on with me now.” Mentally, I crossed my fingers. I needed to be able to contact Becca. I had to let her know that everything would be okay.
“A girlfriend?” Thorvid raised its eyebrow suspiciously.
“Just a friend. I promise.” Unbidden, tears sprang to my eyes. “I need to tell her that I’m doing well.”
Thorvid’s expression softened. “I’ll see what I can do. Wait here.”
The Poltien left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Several hours had passed on Earth, but Josiah was almost certainly still asleep.
Becca, too, for that matter. She might not even know what had happened yet. But I had to be sure that she knew Frank might come looking for us, to make sure she didn’t go around my apartment trying to find me—or worse yet, contact the local police.
Every time I thought about Josiah being so far away from me, sick dread roiled through my stomach. I swallowed it down for the umpteenth time.
By the time Thorvid came back into my room, I sat with my hands clasped, wringing them around and around—stroking the finger that had once held my wedding band, as if I could wipe away even the memory of it.
In the doorway, Thorvid held up one finger to its mouth, telling me to be quiet. Without a word, the Poltien moved in and tapped some keys on the com in the mirror in front of me.
“That should do it. We’re off-camera now—but we’ll need to hurry. What number do you need to com?”
I reached past its shoulder and tapped in Becca’s number.
She answered in dark mode, suggesting she had been asleep. “Hello?”
“Becca, it’s me, Mia. You don’t have to say anything, just listen. I am okay, but my name got drawn in the Bride Lottery.”
“What?” The lights came up on Becca’s end, showing her sitting up in bed with a handheld device, staring at me with wide eyes. Her blonde hair stuck out in messy tufts. She scrambled for her glasses on the bedside table, putting them on to peer at me. “But I thought you couldn’t be—”
I interrupted her before she could say anything that would give me away to Thorvid. “I know. I’m not sure exactly what happened. Please, just know that everything is fine. I should be home in a day or so. Can you hold down the fort until then?”
Becca’s eyes darted to the left, toward the room where Josiah slept, but she didn’t say anything directly about him.
I guess she’s taken to heart all my dire warnings about Frank and what he would do to us if he found us.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll take care of… everything.”
“Thank you. I will try to let you know when I’m headed back if I can—but I’m not certain exactly when that will be.”
“I understand.”
I heaved a shaky sigh of relief. At least now I could be sure that Becca would take care of Josiah until I could get back. Not that I would have expected anything else. In the two years I had known her, Becca had become my closest friend, a kind of substitute aunt for Josiah. I trusted her implicitly—so much that I had told her the truth about myself.
“If we don’t want this com to be tracked, you need to cut it off now,” Thorvid said, its tone gentle.
“I love you and I love—” I stopped myself before I said Josiah’s name.
“Love you, too. We’ll see you soon,” Becca said. “Take care of yourself.”
I ended the call with tears welling in my eyes. Once upon a time, I had thought there was nothing worse than being trapped, afraid for myself. Now, though, I was beginning to think it might be worse to be trapped and afraid for my child.
Thorvid hustled me down to the backstage area to line up for the Bride Pageant. As I stepped off the lift, an enormous, bright red Khanavai warrior brushed past me, and it was all I could do not to stop and stare at him in absolute wonder.
He was giant, muscular and broad, with skin the color of the dress Thorvid had tried to convince me to wear. Just the sight of him made me gasp, and I had to shake myself out of it. Come on, Mia. Your job is to be inconspicuous, not stare at gorgeous aliens.
I ducked my head and hurried to the end of the line of women waiting for their turn in the pageant, doing my best to blend in. But not before I saw the warrior pause and lift his head as if scenting the air like a large predator—a wolf or something.
Then he was gone, and a few minutes later, Natalie Ferguson was giving her answer to Vos’s question. And while part of me wished I had run, too, I wasn’t about to say so aloud.
When my turn came on the dais, I gave half-mumbled, almost incoherent answers. Doing everything I could to project the image of a boring, half-addled idiot that no man in his right mind would want to spend the time with.
It worked, too. By the next morning, all the Khanavai males had chosen the women they wanted as brides.
And I wasn’t one of them.
“Now we just have to get you ready to go home,” Thorvid said, its mouth twisting in disappointment.
I almost wanted to comfort the Poltien, but when I opened my mouth to say something, all my breath rushed out of me in a whoosh of relief, and I burst into tears.
I was going home.
I would have to run again, just in case Frank had seen me on TV.
But I could do that.
I knew how to run.
Sometimes, it felt like that was all I knew how to do.
But it didn’t matter.
I was going home to get my child.
Chapter Six
Eldron
The next day, I made my way to the luncheon room prepared to determine once and for all if Natalie Ferguson was my mate.
In the hallway outside, I met up with Tiziani Mencono. I nodded a greeting and dismissed him in a single glance. He was one of the yellow tribesmen of the Darinsk rainforests on Khanav Prime, and according to the research I had completed on him, he was a mere guardsman in the prince’s household on the southern continent.
If it came down to a physical fight between us, I would win. But if Natalie was his true mate, nothing would keep them apart.
When we entered the luncheon room, we discovered that Cav Adredoni, our third competitor for Natalie’s affection, had already entered.
Smart move, I conceded silently. In any traditional Khanavai setting, it would have allowed him to take control of the room by choosing an advantageous seat.
Of course, the human penchant for round tables thwarted that plan, forcing him to choose between a seat that gave him a full view of the doorway or a seat that would allow him to be first to greet Natalie when she entered. Adredoni had chosen to view the doorway.
I looked forward to seeing how that worked out for him.
The bride was always last to enter the luncheon, a tradition that had developed over the years since the Bride Games had begun.
Standing, Adredoni gave the traditional warriors’ greeting, holding his closed fist, thumb inward toward my chest, a little longer than was customary, eyeing first the yellow Tiziani Mencono and then me. “Greetings,” he said, “and may the gods favor our endeavors on this day.”
I blinked at his choice to utter what was generally a prayer before battle as a greeting but murmured the traditional response. “May the gods favor you, as well.”
As I took a seat to Adredoni’s right, I smiled at the younger captain’s bold moves. Tiziani, on the other hand, scowled as he realized that he’d
just offered a prayer for Adredoni’s success. Tiziani sat across from me, leaving the seat immediately in front of the door available for Natalie.
“It is a pleasure to meet you.” I nodded at them both, then turned to Adredoni, interested to see what kind of competition he might offer. “I have learned many good things about you today.”
“And I you.”
Somewhere in a television studio on the station, Vos and his team of commentators were certainly discussing the social undercurrents in the room as we waited for the bride to arrive.
Adredoni showed off his social skills by including Tiziani in the conversation. “I understand you are a member of the civilian guard?”
“I am a retainer to the southern continent’s Royal Residence and am responsible for the prince’s safety when he is there.”
As I had expected, he was a nobody. The current prince rarely traveled outside the capitol, and when he did, a retinue of military guards traveled with him. Tiziani was a pretender to rank. The judges would score harshly for his attempts to show off.
I nodded politely at the guardsman.
The door opened and the two people who had been appointed Natalie’s guides—a Poltien and a Blordl—opened the door. The Blordl announced in her trilling voice, “Here comes the bride,” a phrase lifted from Earth mating rituals and used to introduce contestants whenever a new game began.
We three grooms stood, waiting for Natalie.
Beside me, Captain Adredoni inhaled, and his entire being seemed to light up from within.
That is how a male finding his mate should look. Could more than one Khanavai warrior have the same true mate?
I took a deep breath, hoping to discover the answer. And then I frowned.
The synthesizers had gotten Natalie’s scent…well, not wrong, exactly. But the synthesized version lacked the fullness of the scent that was uniquely hers.
And that scent did not belong to my mate.
Better to end this farce now than allow it to drag on. Reaching out, I took Natalie’s hand in my own. She flinched, then froze.
Definitely not mine.
“My dear,” I said, bowing over her hands. “I am very sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Natalie gasped as if I had mortally wounded her. Surely she hadn’t already decided on me?
Then she caught her breath. “What is it you need to tell me?”
I allowed my sadness to infuse my voice. “I’m afraid the synthesized chemical composition of your scent-markers did not do you justice.”
Natalie glanced at the other two men in the room, her expression confused. Bloated blundevins, I cursed to myself. A Khanavai female would have known what I was trying to say.
“You are very lovely,” I continued. “But I’m afraid I must tell you that we are not a match, after all.”
“We’re not a match?”
I met her gaze sadly and shook my head. “I fear not.”
Her breath left her body in a wild rush, and she scrabbled at the chair next to her, grabbing the back and sinking into the seat.
Why is she fainting? My mind scrambled for an answer. Was my rejection really that much of a shock to her system? We had never met before—but perhaps she was one of those females who built entire worlds of fantasy around her. Maybe she had decided we were meant to be together and was unable to remain standing at the mere thought of my rejection.
I followed her down to help support her as she landed on the chair and remained kneeling on one knee before her.
“I do hope I have not distressed you too much, Miss Natalie,” I continued in my most polite tone.
“No,” she said, waving one hand weakly. “Not at all. Thank you for letting me know so quickly. I appreciate not having this ordeal drawn out more.”
Her two assistants leaned in, the Blordl drawing me to my feet. “No problem,” she trilled. “We’re so sorry your match didn’t work out.”
She opened the door to usher me out. The Poltien followed us, muttering something about false matches ruining the show.
The Blordl shut the door behind us, and I was once again free to follow my hunches about the Alveron Horde’s plans to disrupt the Bride Games somehow.
Even if part of me—that deep, primal part that had growled out its possession of the scent backstage—whimpered in sadness that Natalie Ferguson had not been my mate, after all.
At least I have work to do, I consoled myself—and from here, it would be easy to cut through the shuttle bay area to the main offices and get back to that work. “I’m going to the military side of the station,” I told the assistants, who murmured their goodbyes, apparently glad they wouldn’t have to escort me anywhere.
But as I turned down the main hallway that opened onto the shuttle bays, I found myself in a long hallway full of women.
And once again, that smell—the scent of my mate—hit me like a fist to the gut.
She’s here, I realized. Somewhere among all these women.
And I would do whatever it took to find her.
Chapter Seven
Mia
“Why can’t we use the transporter to go home?” I asked Thorvid as it led me toward the shuttle bay.
“It has something to do with the number of destinations required. Too much of a power drain on the station.”
I gave the Poltien a side-eye. “And we’re not the stars of the show any longer, right?”
It grinned. “Exactly.”
“Thank you so much for everything,” I said as we reached the end of a long line of women waiting to go home. “I know I wasn’t the easiest bride to assist.”
The Poltien gave a shrug, its nose-braid swinging with the motion. “It was lovely to work with you. Be careful on the way home.”
I waved as Thorvid left, then leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.
I’ll be home soon.
Relief swept through me, and I blew out a relieved sigh.
My eyes were still closed a moment later when a whisper went up among the women who surrounded me.
What now?
I saw him as soon as I opened my eyes. There he was again—the bright red warrior who had been stalking through the crowds of women backstage during the pageant.
He wore one of their skimpy kilt-like uniforms, including a sash across his chest covered in Khanavai text. His dark hair stood out against his cherry-colored skin and his silver eyes almost glowed. He paused in the hallway, lifting his nose into the air again as if catching a familiar scent.
Crossing his muscular arms over his chest, he scanned up and down the line of women as we stared back at him in wide-eyed wonder, falling silent, none of us daring to make a sound in the face of that intense stare.
His gaze swept across the line of women waiting to enter the shuttle. I froze, terrified, feeling like a small forest creature hunted by some giant, monstrous animal.
Before, I had thought he reminded me of a wolf, but his motions were more graceful than that, smoother—he was definitely stalking his prey, but more like a big cat than anything lupine.
He moved toward our line, his long, loping steps bringing him inexorably toward me.
I knew it the moment he zeroed in on me, too. His gaze snapped to my face with an intensity like nothing I had experienced before.
My entire awareness narrowed down until everything around us seemed to fall away. It might as well have been just the two of us standing in that hallway outside the landing bay.
He moved in until only inches separated us, my eyes level—barely—with his chest. I tipped my head back in time to see him bend down to wrap me in his arms. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
His scent, masculine and spicy, something both exotic and familiar, enveloped me, and I found myself drawing it into my lungs as if the smell of him were oxygen—like I needed to breathe in his particular aroma in order to live.
Without my volition, my eyes closed, and I tilted my lips toward his. He claimed my mouth fiercely, hun
grily, teasing my lips open and thrusting his tongue inside as if he were staking claim to me.
A tiny moan fluttered in the back of my throat. At the sound, the muscular red alien literally swept me off my feet, scooping me up with one arm behind my knees, the other supporting my back. I wound my arms around his neck, weaving my fingers into his hair, my involuntary response half-terrified and completely passionate.
My entire body ached to get closer, as if he were a safe harbor in the storm that was my life.
As that thought crossed my mind, I remembered the life I needed to return to.
Josiah.
With a gasp, I pulled away from his kiss.
“Put me down,” I urged him breathlessly.
With a strange kind of pop, the world came rushing back in.
All around us, the women standing in line were shouting and cheering.
The red alien leaned his forehead against mine. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“No.” The word snapped out of me by pure instinct. “I’m not who you’ve been searching for. You made a mistake.” I began to struggle, and he placed me gently on my feet.
“Why are you standing in this hall?” His imperious tone left me blinking in surprise, but I answered him, anyway.
“I’m getting ready to leave. I’m going back to Earth.”
His eyes widened as he glanced around at all the other discarded brides. “Absolutely not. That cannot happen.” His voice rang with authority.
Who was he to say what I could or couldn’t do?
“It’s happening. I’m going home.” I fell back against the wall, retaking my spot in the line—but also using the inner hull of the station to support me, disguising the shaking of my knees.
“We’ll see about that.” He frowned and glanced around as if trying to find someone in charge. “You.” He pointed at the nearest Poltien, who was standing wide-eyed, holding a compad with a passenger manifest. “This woman. What is her name?”
“I can answer that for myself,” I announced. “I’m Mia Jones, and I am going back to Earth.”
Claimed for the Alien Bride Lottery Page 3
