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“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not dreaming. You’re awake. We’re not bullshitting you,” Darcy said. “These guys? They’re all convicted murderers.”

No. No, no, no.

How did we go from “penal colony” to “these guys are all convicted murderers?” Someone could have been sent to a penal colony for… I don’t know… Tax fraud!

But murder?!

And the women… Oh,God.

I was responsible for them! I was the one who sent them there!

This definitely had to be a dream. The most anxiety-inducing dream I’d ever had. I’d take being naked at work a thousand times over this.

“It’s OK!” Magnolia said quickly. “The murders were a long time ago. When they were just kids. By human standards the crimes wouldn’t even qualify as murder! It’s not like they’ve killed anyone onthisplanet!”

“Don’t say it,” Cherry quietly hissed at Silar.

“And we’re happy,” Darcy added firmly, her chin raised high. This was rather surprising, because when I’d met the three women on Elora Station a few months ago, Darcy had by far seemed like the least happy of the bunch. “We love our husbands. You don’t need to melt down over this. It doesn’t change anything for us.”

Fallon’s face got all slack and dopey when Darcy mentioned that she loved him. Seriously, she wanted me to believe that that sweet, grinning, alien idiot killed someone?

But if it was true… If he had…

Brainwashed. The women had to be brainwashed. What the hell kind of insanity had I sent them into? What the hell had happened?!

“This is a lot to take in,” I finally said, grasping for the right words. “You may not think it changes anything for you, but it will certainly change things for the program going forward. If it goes forward at all…”

“I would just like to interject,” said a slightly frantic-sounding Oaken, “that I have never actually murdered anyone! And I would very much still like a bride if there is one yet willing and available!”

“If you haven’t murdered anyone, then why are you in this penal colony?” I asked, narrowing my gaze at him. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust any of them. Least of all the stupid warden who’d apparently hid this tiny little detail from me the entire time!

“Well, I wasconvictedof murder,” Oaken hedged, before hurriedly adding, “but that is not at all the same thing!”

Jesus fucking Christ. On a cracker. Withcheese.

I pinched my arm. And kept on pinching, pinching, pinching.

I didn’t wake up. This was real. I really did send three lovely, beautiful, innocent women into the alien claws of convicted murderers.

I had to fix it.

How?

I had no idea.

But I at least knew the first step I needed to take.

“It is unacceptable that this information was withheld from me for so long,” I said, anger turning to heat beneath my skin. “I am no longer satisfied with a virtual check-in and need to be convinced of your safety in person. You tell that warden that I am coming down there as soon as humanly possible!”

“No one needs to tell me anything. I can hear you just fine,” boomed his deep voice. Finally, the warden stepped into view. Violet hide, orange eyes, jaw like a goddamn anvil. His warden’s uniform fit his broad, bulky frame with astonishingly tailored perfection.

He tipped his hat towards me, making a silver Zabrian badge flash in the sunlight. “You are more than welcome to come and see the conditions for yourself,” he said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of arrogant challenge in the words. “I look forward to your arrival.”

His orange eyes met mine. They seared briefly white.

And then, without warning, apology, or a goodbye, the bastard ended the call.

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