Page 16 of Bound to the Beast (Interstellar Brides Program: The Beasts #9)

I’d been through enough—horror—to last a lifetime. Moping around, wearing black and feeling sorry for myself was not my style. At first, after the rescue, dressing up had been a coping mechanism. Now, looking like I’d stepped out of a fashion magazine was simply part of my life.

Especially today. I was going to meet my matched mate, the alien of my dreams, the one I was destined to spend the rest of my life with.

And his second. My second mate. I wanted them to take one look at me and want me.

I’d heard these alien males when they acted all growly and protective.

I’d met Queen Jessica and her two huge, scary mates, Prime Nial and a scarred, frightening warrior named Ander—who I secretly thought was the sexiest damn warrior I’d ever seen. So freaking big and scary .

No one would dare threaten the queen, not with those two—and an entire planet of warriors—to protect her. Now that I’d been matched, I was officially a citizen of Prillon Prime. The whole planet of vicious fighters was mine, too.

And, hopefully, in a matter of hours, I would have this gorgeous gown literally torn off my body in a wild display of uncontrollable lust, by both my mates.

At the same time. Two of them. I’d be pressed between them, filled to bursting with two huge cocks, riding wave after wave of orgasmic delight.

It was soooooo insanely hot to imagine. Incredible, and naughty. I wanted both of them right now.

I still couldn’t believe it. I’d actually been matched to a Prillon warrior. Officially matched by the Interstellar Brides processing protocols. My new mate was still fighting, out in space. On a ship. He was a commander.

He would be even more powerful and dominant than other warriors. Perhaps one of my mates would be bossy, and the other gentle? Or both perfect gentlemen, until we took our clothes off? Maybe they would demand sex every night? Or every morning? Both? Oh my god. Yes .

Two mates.

The bride testing—a simulation of some kind—was sensual, to say the least. Somehow, the alien computer made one feel like every touch, every word, sound and feeling was real.

An erotic image from the sexual vision I’d just experienced filled my mind.

A shiver of raw lust moved through me and landed in my still throbbing core.

I was still wet. The orgasm I’d had at the end of the test only made me hungry for more.

The Prillon mating collars—and the psychic link they created between mates—took normal lust and turned the volume up to eleven.

I would feel my desire, and my mates’—at the same time.

Oh, heck yes. I was ready for lots of mind-blowing private time with two hot mates. Sooooo, ready. To be fucked. Adored. Protected and cared for. Anything I needed, they would provide. They would know what I wanted because we would all three be linked.

Two Prillon warriors totally devoted to me—in life, and in bed ?

So very, very naughty. I squirmed, just a bit.

I couldn’t keep the restless need from escaping.

I hadn’t been touched by a man in so long.

I tried to recall the last time—before the—before that.

I could barely remember my last date with a human man, it had been years.

“The transport window is closing, my lady. If we wait much longer, I will need to delay your departure.” The Prillon warrior in control of the transport pad interrupted Makayla’s long goodbye.

“Of course. So sorry.” I gave Makayla one final, super-tight hug, and walked up the few stairs to join my soon-to-be transported suitcase so we could be flung across the galaxy.

The officer nodded, his large hands moving competently over the controls.

Would my mates touch me with that level of intense concentration?

Were their hands that big? That skilled?

What was wrong with me? I was thinking like a horny teenager.

“Are you ready, my lady?” The transport officer had kind eyes. He knew where I was going. And why. I nodded.

Makayla waved good-bye as the hum of the transport pad rose from the floor like an electricity bath. The extra energy building up for my jump through space made me squirm like a shelter puppy about to be released from its cage. Finally free.

Oh, yes. I was ready to meet my new mate.

Commander Zarren Helion.

Even his name sounded formidable.

I just knew he was going to be one hundred percent perfect.

***

Commander Zarren Helion, Intelligence Core, Black Fleet, Sector 438

The Prillon warrior sitting before me bled from multiple wounds, none fatal, each strategically placed to inflict maximum pain. Lieutenant Oberon Arcas of Prillon Prime was one stubborn fucking warrior.

I have to break him.

I’d tracked him down, taken his ship, and captured him for one reason: information.

I needed to know where this traitor intended to go inside Hive controlled space.

Who he had made arrangements with to help him get there.

More important than either of those things, how he’d acquired the detailed map and technical schematics of a Hive stronghold that wasn’t on any of our star charts.

Why it was printed, ink on paper, of all fucking things?

The Interstellar Coalition of Planets hadn’t used paper to store data in… how long? I wasn’t sure. A millennia?

Either he was working directly with the enemy, or he’d paid for them, bought them from someone with contacts inside the Hive. Someone behind enemy lines.

“Who gave you the plans?” He was going to tell me e xactly where that Hive base was located, and how he knew the facility existed at all.

Information even I, leader of all Coalition’s intelligence operations, did not have….

“Fuck you, Helion. We’ve already had this conversation.”

“Who gave them to you? How much did you pay to acquire them?”

“Give me a ReCon team.”

“There is no one to rescue. Where is the Hive base?”

“I’ll tell you that after the prisoners have been freed.”

“The Hive do not take prisoners, they integrate us into their Hive mind and send us out to kill our own families, our own people. You know this, Arcas. Whatever prisoners were taken are already dead.” Apparently, some warriors had trouble listening, or accepting the truth.

“I know you want to believe she’s still alive, but I assure you, she is gone from this life.

I’m sorry, but you must accept the truth. ”

“I don’t trust you, or your Hunters.”

“My best Hunter searched for over a month. She’s dead, Oberon.”

“Give me a ReCon team. When I’ve seen for myself, I’ll give you exact coordinates and you can blast the place out of existence. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To turn the Hive into ash and dust?”

I did want that. If I’d missed a threat of this magnitude, another hidden base, what else did I not know about?

How many bases did the Hive had scattered throughout Coalition space?

A Hive installation like this one could wipe out an entire star system in a matter of weeks.

Millions, perhaps billions of civilian lives were at risk, and it was my job to protect them.

Fuck this asshole and his refusal to cooperate. He thought he knew what I wanted. He had no fucking clue. I was a warrior who learned from his mistakes. A Prillon male who would do anything to protect his people, no matter how vile the task. Anything.

I nodded to Doctor Mersan where he stood next to our prisoner’s shoulder.

A Prillon warrior, like me, he served the I.C.

now. Like Mersan, I, too, trained as a doctor first. I had long since given up using my skills for anything other than hunting and killing as many Coalition enemies as possible.

Threats from within or without, I hunted them down.

My entire being focused on one task, one goal: ending this fucking war.

Mersan stepped close to Oberon and raised the RGR device he held to the prisoner’s chest. He activated the small wand. Normally used to heal, my team had made very deliberate, specific modifications to the programming of the standard ReGen wand.

I watched, impatient, as Oberon’s skin dissolved, the cells separating from the traitor’s muscles laying beneath. The resulting bloody ooze slid down over his abdomen like melted wax, leaving a raw wound the size of my palm.

I preferred not to take things this far, but we’d been interrogating the warrior for weeks.

Sleep deprivation. Beatings. Nothing to eat and just enough water to keep him alive.

We injected him with medications specifically designed to break his mind.

Loosen his tongue. Still, he gave us nothing.

Not one fucking bit of useful information.

I supposed his fortitude could be attributed to the Arcas bloodline.

This traitor’s cousin—Thomar—had not only survived Hive integration but broken free of Hive mind control.

On his own. Something previously believed impossible.

No one resisted the Hive, other than Atlan warlords.

Most Atlans died before the Hive could gain control of the massive fighter that dwelled within their males.

Thank the gods. Atlan beasts were feared on the battlefield without the added strength and speed Hive implanted technology would give them.

My prisoner was no Atlan. He was a Prillon warrior, through and through. The Arcas bloodline had been restored to its rightful place on our home planet. His family was one of the oldest in our records. Noble. Fierce. Before the system of Prime rule, this traitor’s ancestors had been kings.

I stood quietly, waiting for Oberon to respond to the loss of his flesh.

It would heal quickly. But this fucker needed to suffer for a few minutes.

Somehow , this Prillon had access to information I did not.

Vital information about our enemies. Information I would kill to acquire.

If Oberon did not break soon, there were other, more aggressive measures to be taken.