“I am Axon. Sector Three. I agree with him. Find our mates at once.”
Zed crossed his arms over his chest but said nothing other than his name.
The technician gulped, then looked down at his table and got to work. His fingers flew over the flat surface with quick speed. He was skilled at his task, but there was some kind of colossal mistake he’d have to look into with his superiors. It was possible to have two people waiting in error, but three?
A fucking mess for his team to figure out. Later. After my mate was safely in my bed and beneath me. Maybe Zed did have the right idea about tying her up. She’d be on her stomach, arms stretched over her head as I slid a pillow beneath her hips, lifting her ass up in perfect placement for me to slip my cock into that tight sheath. She’d scream her pleasure before I was done. The seed power would—
“There is no mistake,” he said, cutting off my dirty thoughts, although when he glanced at us, there was worry in his gaze.
“Explain,” Zed said, the one word like an ion blast.
“A mate is arriving on transport pad three for Royal Elite Calder, Royal Elite Zed and Royal Elite Axon.”
“Three females from different locations can’t transport at the same time, Technician,” I countered, stating the most obvious thing about his job.
His head bobbed. “Yes, sir. I’m aware of that, sir. But only one female is transporting.” He glanced down at his station, reading the display. “The details say she is coming from Earth and the Bride Processing Center in Miami.”
Zed and Axon shifted, nodded. I had an uncomfortable feeling all of a sudden. My mate was coming from the location he mentioned. Why, then, were Zed and Axon agreeing?
The technician glanced between the three of us. “Um, you’ve been summoned here because the bride that is transporting is matched to all three of you.”
“What?” Zed said, his voice thundering. Heads turned our way.
“All three of us?” I asked, glancing at the other two. It was obvious this was news to them as well. While the new kings of Viken had begun the trend of uniting the sectors by bringing three warriors together to claim a mate, I had not asked for, nor agreed to that arrangement, and from the looks on both Axon’s and Zed’s faces, neither had they. Family was everything to me. Everything. And these men, while fine warriors, were not my brothers, not even friends. They were competition for the woman destined to be mine.
“Check again,” Axon said, pointing at the work station.
The technician shrugged. “I can send a message to Earth, to Warden Egara who runs that facility, and tell her you refuse the match.”
“No!” We all answered him in unison, and although I was disappointed that the other two males didn’t back down from the challenge and leave my mate to me, I was also pleased that they were warriors of honor, willing to fight for her, as I was. I could not tolerate losing my mate to a warrior I deemed unworthy of her.
The technician quickly lowered his head and slid his fingers over the display, faster than before. After a minute, he bit his lip. “Well, um, sirs, there has been a change.”
I relaxed and I saw the others’ bodies settle a bit.
“She’s not coming. She refused transport.” The technician didn’t look up, clearly afraid of being killed by not one rejected mate, but three. And retired Coalition fighters as well. “The match was made. It clearly states she accepted the match, but she refuses the transport. Warden Egara made a notation that she has declined to be transported to Viken and departed the building.”
“To go where?” I asked and began to pace. Zed didn’t move a muscle. Axon went over to the wall and punched it, leaving a dent in the ionized metal.
The technician flinched as he answered me. “To her quarters? I don’t know, sir. I’m um…not familiar with life on Earth.”
She refused? She didn’t want me? Or us? That was ridiculous. We matched at ninety-seven percent. We were perfect for each other. But how was she perfect for the other two as well?
My male ego was definitely bruised. And I was angry. Irate. How dare she refuse something as precious as a match?
“I’m going to go get her,” I said, not realizing my intent before the words came from my mouth. “She’s mine. I will not allow her to reject the match. If she’s not coming to me, I will go to her, prove we are perfect for each other.” I walked up onto the transport pad and crossed my arms. “Technician, set reverse transport coordinates.”
“You’re not having her,” Axon said, storming up to me and getting in my face. He might have more anger in him, but I was no coward. I stood my ground, ready to fight him if need be.
“I am. She was matched to me.”
“She was also matched to me,” he replied. “If you’re going, so am I. She can choose her mate.” He turned, taking position on the transport pad next to me. I ignored Zed, hoping against hope that he would walk away. The Earth woman was mine. My mate. If she had truly been matched to Axon and Zed—which would have to be proven to me by this Interstellar Bride warden on Earth—then I would honor the protocols and allow her to choose.
But would there really be any choice? Our match was almost perfect. She would have me. Confident, I nodded. He was angry as well, but I was not intimidated nor afraid to accept the challenge his presence would present. I was no young fool without skill. I was battle-hardened, as he was. Fierce. Determined. And very skilled at bringing pleasure to a woman. Our mate would choose me. And if he tried to interfere? I’d rip his head off before he took her from me.
The transport pad began to hum, the electromagnetic charge making my skin tingle as Zed climbed the platform to stand on my opposite side. “She’s mine, my match. She will have to choose between the three of us. I will not allow you to go without me. The testing says she is matched to all of us. Therefore, I will have my turn in swaying her to me.”
Axon and I stared at Zed, then after a moment, Axon nodded.
“It’s ready, sirs. I have clearance from Earth to initiate transport to the Bride Processing Center in Miami. Warden Egara will be waiting to greet you and acclimate you to Earth’s requirements,” the technician called, clearly eager to send us as far away from him as possible.
“What requirements do you speak of?” I asked.
He frowned as the energy built, my hair beginning to float around my head. “Earth is a probationary member of the Coalition, sirs. Their world is primitive. No alien species are allowed to mingle with the general population. Warden Egara will explain the necessary precautions when you arrive.”
Axon turned to me and Zed. “Very well, we go together. But know this, our mate will be punished for rejecting us before she is allowed to experience pleasure. Once her ass is a pretty shade of red, only then will she choose her mate.”
“Absolutely,” Zed agreed. “We will punish her together.”
I looked between the two other Vikens. We’d been thrown together in this and were now in a new fight. A fight for a mate. One of us would win her heart, and I was confident it would be me. I would use every skill I had to seduce her. Woo her. Make her fall in love with me. Offer her comfort, protection and pleasure like she’d never known before. She was mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to seduce. Mine.
But Axon was right. She’d know the sting of our palms before the choice was made. Denying the match was unacceptable. Dishonorable. Coalition fighters fought long and hard in the Hive wars for the right to a perfect match. The mates sent to us were the ultimate reward, the ultimate gift. Our brides were treated with the highest respect and honor. Cherished. Adored. Protected.
Denying her mate without giving him the required thirty days to win her love, her trust? It was an insult to every warrior fighting to keep Earth and every other Coalition world safe.
If she didn’t want to be a bride, she should not have volunteered. Nor taken the test and accepted the match. Not have teased her new mate with a chance at happiness, a family and hope for a future, if her intent was to then cruel
ly deny him.
Me. Deny me.
Axon was right. Anger simmered just below the agony of her rejection. While she might be from Earth, so was our queen. Queen Leah had been an Interstellar Bride and she loved her mates, the three kings. Respected them. Loved Viken and all of her people.
This was not about Viken, this was about my mate’s disregard for the strong, honorable warrior who would love her. Regardless of who she chose, our mate would know the ways of her Viken warrior from the start.
3
Violet, Vero Beach, Florida
The condo felt like a mausoleum without my sister in it. Her room looked exactly the same, anime and K-pop posters lining the walls, leopard print bedding and a mess of erotic lingerie strewn about on the floor next to the scrubs she wore to work in the dentist’s office. Those were wild, too, bright green to rosy pink and covered in everything from little rubber ducks to sparkling tooth-fairies waving their tiny magic wands. If I took two steps I would trip over the oversized clogs she wore to work and she had left half-opened mail scattered all over her desk and the floor surrounding the trash can.
She hadn’t even bothered to pick up her freaking dirty laundry. And she did love her lingerie. She never wore a bra and panty set that wasn’t beautiful, lacy, and perfectly matched.
My room, by contrast, was organized and clean. My comforter was made from goose down, a pretty shade of green that reversed to a calming cream that reminded me of sand on the beach. The sheets and pillows were a reasonable, functional, white so I could bleach them whenever I wanted to. My shoes were neatly organized in hanging pockets on the back of my bedroom door. My desk was clear, everything put away in the proper drawer. My favorite pen and pencil lined up side-by-side on my desk. And I’d done all my laundry last night, so even my stupid hamper was empty.
Her room looked like she’d stepped out to run to the grocery store and would be back in ten minutes.
Mine looked like no one lived there at all. Which was just depressing.
Mindy lived life and I…organized.
Maybe I was the crazy one after all. Maybe going off-world to be mated to an alien was the best damn idea she’d ever had.
And I’d been more than willing to join her. Except I couldn’t. According to that uptight Warden Egara, I hadn’t been compatible with Trion. No. I got three men, not one, on some small planet I’d never heard of. Viken. What the hell was a Viken? What did they look like? Were they purple or blue or have huge horns coming out of their heads? I’d studied up on Trion, googled everything I could. Their men were dominant, into total control in the bedroom—which surprised the hell out of me with my sister’s tendency to be wild and impulsive—and looked like Greek gods on steroids. At least the photos included in the publicity details made them look like sex on a stick. No wonder she’d been so excited in her last text to me.
But Viken? Three males? What was that all about? And worse, I had no idea what they looked like because I’d been blindfolded in that dream, or processing, or whatever kind of mind-game Warden Egara had played with me. The dream made sense now. Sort of. What part of my subconscious—because I’d never consciously consider it—wanted three men? I knew of threesomes. Who didn’t? But three guys? And me? That was the part of the equation that kept stalling my brain. Me. With three guys. Vikens. Aliens.
Oh crap.
And now? I hated to admit it, but I was a coward. I didn’t dare look them up. I didn’t want them to be Greek gods on steroids—because then my mind might start agreeing with my body on the matter of whether or not to go claim my three mates. And if they were hideous with horns? Well, that would totally ruin the fantasy I still had running on a loop in my head, which was, quite frankly, the most exciting thing to happen in my sex life in months. And it had only been a dream, which was even more depressing.
I wasn’t a prude, but I didn’t do three men at a time either. I liked sex. God, if I was honest, I’d have to say I loved sex. But only if it was good. And finding a man who cared enough to take care of my needs was damn near impossible. At least it felt like it.
It didn’t matter. Viken wasn’t Trion. And Mindy was on Trion. So it didn’t really matter that my body still tingled every time I thought about that matching dream—which was about every five minutes. The fact that my pussy was still wet and aching and I’d had to masturbate last night just to get myself to sleep? Irrelevant. The dream that had tormented me for hours, being surrounded by three lovers, so close to orgasm but denied again and again? Irrelevant.
I slammed the door to Mindy’s bedroom closed and scowled at myself in the hallway mirror. “Shut up, Violet. You are not going to Viken, and that’s final.”
My cell phone buzzed inside the pocket of my robe. Mindy? I yanked it free as quickly as possible to find a text message from an unknown number. Not Mindy. Of course not. She was on Trion.
Miss Nichols, this is Warden Egara. Please do not be alarmed, but your mates have come to Earth to claim you. Per the legal accords signed between Earth and the Interstellar Coalition, they have thirty days to court you before you may officially reject their claim. As you did agree to the match, my hands are tied. Expect company. They are honorable warriors, Violet. They will not harm you. You have my word.
Oh. My. God.
Like an idiot, I looked down at myself. I’d brushed my teeth after breakfast, but that was about it. I still had on the lace trimmed, pink tank top and matching floral pajama shorts I’d slept in. My hair was a mess, pulled back into a twist just to get it off my neck. My feet were bare on the tile floor and I didn’t have on underwear. My toenails were painted a cheerful neon pink, but I had no make-up on. No jewelry. No perfume.
None of my usual armor. Nothing. I never went out of the house unless I was completely pulled together. Never.
But right now, I looked like I’d just crawled out of bed and thrown on my thigh-length, black satin robe over my PJs and sulked around the house like a vampire.
Because I had. Like, an hour ago. The shades were drawn. It was dark and cool and my personal bat cave this morning. And moping around sipping coffee and nibbling on toast didn’t exactly require a lot of effort—or fashionable clothes. Or shoes.
Taking a deep breath, I re-read the message, just to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. I wasn’t. Same words. I texted back.
When?
She answered within seconds.
Now. They did not wish to frighten you.
Now? As in now, now?
Is this a joke?
Her response made my heart skip a beat.
Open your door, Miss Nichols.
No way. No freaking way three aliens were standing on my front porch. I had to wonder if this were a dream.
I set my phone down on the kitchen table as I passed, making my way to the front door, practically tiptoeing the closer I got. More shocked than anything, I opened it wide and stopped breathing altogether.
“Holy crap.”
Three huge men stood on the other side of the door dressed like they’d purchased their entire wardrobe at a cheap Florida souvenir shop. Marlins baseball hats, floral Hawaiian style shirts, pastel Bermuda shorts and even flip-flops. They looked ridiculous. They were only missing the camera about their necks and the sunburn. Were they supposed to be dressed to blend in? The outfits might disguise the average human on the beach, but these three? It was obvious, at least to me, they were far from human. They were all at least six-feet six, built like football linebackers, yet were pure muscle. The only place I’d seen anything like them—minus the ridiculous clothing—was a show on TV about Vikings. Big Vikings. These three were not exactly low profile. With the hats? Giants of pure alien muscle.
Hot, humid air blew into my face from outside the air conditioned cool of my living room and my robe flapped around my legs. I realized I hadn’t bothered to tie it and I was standing there, half naked in front of three aliens. Three strangers who thought they had a right to my body. To my life. My future. My everything. They we
re my matches. From Viken. Here, in Florida. On my stoop.
Rage boiled up inside me, replacing my nerves and anxiety with power.
“Go home, boys. I’m not in the mood.” I slammed the door, or tried to, but the one in front, with glacier blue eyes and a jaw so square a carpenter could use it for measuring corners, lifted his big hand and stopped the door cold.
“You are magnificent, Violet. I am your mate, Zed, and you will not bar us from your home after we travelled thousands of light years to meet you. That would be dishonorable, mate, and completely unacceptable.” He tilted his head to the side and looked down at me, way down, with a glint in his eyes that let me know he would not be bargained with, no matter what I did or said.
I should have held on to my anger. Instead, my nipples grew hard and my pussy clenched with heat at the sound of his voice, the tone, the sharp bite. Damn it.
His gaze drifted over me, taking in the change in my body through the thin material of my tank and I pulled the robe closed to hide my reaction from him. Too late, if his knowing grin was any indication. “You are most definitely mine.”
The words made me shudder, my knees threatened to buckle and I couldn’t stop staring at his lips. Why wasn’t he purple with fangs and big horns coming out of his head? Not that there was anything wrong with an alien if they were like that, but that was so not my type.
But him? Them? Damn it. I was in trouble. They were all drop-dead-gorgeous. Better than the poster of the Trion male I’d seen on my way to the bride center.
But he did have a point. They were here. They had come a long, long way. I’d been raised better than this. And just because I let them in didn’t mean I had to agree to anything they wanted.
Warden Egara promised they wouldn’t hurt me. From what I’d read about the Interstellar Brides Program, the alien warriors who got mates treated them like precious princesses…if you believed the hype. And since they couldn’t exactly transport me off Earth from my living room, I could let them have their say, explain things about my sister and send them home to get a new bride. Or mate. Or whatever.
Claimed By The Vikens Page 3