Sneak Peek – Heartless

Chapter One

Willow Baylor, Prillon Prime, The Capital

“Congratulations, Willow. It’s a ninety-nine percent match.” My dearest friend, Makayla, squeezed me one more time as I waited for my turn to transport. “I am so happy for you.”

“Thank you. I can’t believe it. I’m—numb.” What my friend didn’t realize was I meant that quite literally. I should be excited. Smiling. Excitement should be bubbling through me like champagne fizz in my veins. I felt nothing, like I’d been erased.

You’re still hiding. Stop pretending you need a big, bad alien to protect you.

Shut up.

I didn’t want to talk to the stubborn wench who lived inside my head—a.k.a., the old me. The me from a former life. She’d been in charge before I’d been kidnapped by aliens and lived through a literal hell. I didn’t want to be her again. She got into trouble. She made stupid choices.

The new me was doing just fine. Better than fine, I had a matched mate!

The warden who administered my bride testing had already given me a run down on final instructions for transport. I was ready to go. I’d said goodbye to my friends, all of them women from the sanctuary who, like me, had been rescued from that Hive prison.

I was being allowed to take a few personal items with me to my new home—and my new mates. I knew it was a break in Brides’ Program protocol. Perhaps Prime Nial and the others assumed we’d been through enough trauma already. They had done everything in their power to make us feel at home here on Prillon Prime, to help us heal. Danika Arcas, a human woman mated to a couple of warriors, was always available. She was in charge of the place and took care of anything and everything we needed. What she couldn’t get for us, Queen Jessica—another human out here in space—would handle. The exceptions made for us regarding transport protocols weren’t huge, but hugely important. As was our unfettered access to the S-Gen machines.

Leaving our sanctuary was hard enough already. It was a relief to know I wasn’t going empty-handed, and I wasn’t arriving naked.

As if. So humiliating.

A small suitcase filled with personal items had been carefully placed on the transport pad. In just a few minutes I would be on my way to my powerful, protective, and possessive new Prillon mate. And his second. Yes, please. I had never been with two lovers before, but the idea of having two experienced warriors completely obsessed with caring for me, protecting me and ensuring physical pleasure? Wonderful. I couldn’t wait to find out who my mate had chosen as his second—and mine.

“I wish your mate was here, on Prillon Prime, but he will have to retire eventually. Right?” Makayla’s voice cracked like she was fighting off tears—and losing. She squeezed me so tightly I was afraid she would crack a rib. I hugged back just as hard. She, too, had been to hell and back. Maybe I should be crying with her, but I didn’t feel sad.

About time.

I ignored the self-talk. I was relieved to be leaving this place, ready to move on. I was tired of waking up alone every night, tangled in my sheets. I wanted a warrior—or two—next to me, around me, holding me, touching me. I needed fire in my veins, where for so long now there had been nothing but ice.

I kissed Makayla on the cheek. “Maybe we’ll be neighbors one day, here in the capital.” Better if my mates retired to Prillon Prime in a few years, rather than being killed in the war. I didn’t want to be a widow.

Makayla released me and we stared into one another’s eyes, sharing secrets without saying a word, as only best friends can. Finally, Makayla shrugged. “You know I don’t trust that computer. I don’t see how it can know who you will fall in love with.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be happy.” I smiled because even as I spoke the words, I realized they were true. I’d met so many honorable—and sexy—Prillon males on this planet, I couldn’t wait to have a couple warriors of my own.

“Always the optimist. What if you didn’t get a match? Or had to go to Rogue 5?” Makayla asked.

“Wouldn’t happen.” Those scary jerks with fangs had kidnapped us from Earth, shoved us on a dingy, cold ship, and off-loaded us into our new prison without a hint of conscience. If I had my way, their stupid planet—and that moon they lived on—would already be blown to bits.

Now you’re talking…

I told you to shut up.

I squeezed Makayla’s hand to reassure her. “The matching protocols would not put me with one of those wanna-be, vampire criminals. I would want to hit him with a baseball bat while he was sleeping, not sleep with him.”

“They aren’t vampires. Those fangs put stuff into their mates’ bodies. They don’t suck blood out.” Makayla sounded…intrigued by the idea. Was she insane?

“Don’t care. Fangs are too gross for me, and I like people who obey the law.” I’d had enough chaos to last a lifetime. What I craved was order and routine, knowing exactly what was going on around me and what tomorrow would bring. Steady. Predictable.

Boring. You hate boring.

I ignored her.

Certainty was wonderful. I knew my new mates would be eager to sweep me off my feet and into their arms. They would definitely not be boring. My mates would be hot. Sexy. I wanted them to take one look at me and barely be able to keep their hands to themselves, so I’d dressed up today, pulled out all the stops.

I had on a gorgeous dress made from a Prillon fabric that was unlike anything we had on Earth. Like velvet and silk had a textile baby. The gown was a dark, stormy blue. Fitted bodice, long, elegant skirt. My eyes were the exact shade of blue to match. Really made my eyes pop. So did the sapphire and silver necklace and earrings I wore. On Earth, this dress and jewelry combo would probably cost tens of thousands of dollars. Out here? It was just atoms and molecules made of random energy. The little electrons—or whatever—floated around in space until they were locked into shape by the aliens’ Spontaneous Matter Generators, or S-Gen machines. Those machines created anything I could think to ask for, from diamonds to lasagna, out of thin air. At least that’s what it looked like to me.

I didn’t care about the science behind it, I only cared that it worked.

I loved the bright silver, glittery polish I’d painted on my nails. The matching blue ribbon braided into my long, blonde hair. I looked like a princess. Every. Day. Because I could, and because it made me feel royal. Watched over. Untouchable.

Like you’re not a threat. Like you need protecting.

I do.

Inner me snorted in disagreement. I ignored her. I was very, very good at ignoring her.

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 Oberan 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 exactly 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 have to 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 myself, 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.

Just two months ago, Oberon had been a loyal warrior, a vital part of the Coalition Fleet. According to his military record, he was an excellent pilot and calm under fire. His battle statistics were impressive. He’d received multiple commendations. If I’d seen his record before, I would have considered recruiting him to serve in the I.C. He’d been the perfect soldier.

What fucking changed?

Sentiment. Emotion overruling reason. Love made him weak.

I glanced at Mersan, who nodded in response to my unspoken question. The wound had been open long enough. We didn’t want our prisoner to go into shock. Nor did we want to give him enough time to adapt to the pain. His agony needed to be fresh. I gave a nearly imperceptible dip of my chin. The doctor reversed the energy field of the RGR—turning it back to its original purpose—healing wounds, not causing them.

Mersan held the RGR over the wound. The skin surrounding the exposed muscle activated at once, wiggling across the gap, creating new skin cells until Oberon’s golden brown chest looked like it never had a scratch.

I watched. I waited. Nothing but impatience flooded my system. This was one more duty I must perform. A job. One on a long list. Nothing more and nothing less. I didn’t have time to second guess my decisions. Delays cost lives. Oberon’s refusal to cooperate could kill.

Oberon lifted his striking yellow eyes to stare at me, one brow lifted in a silent taunt. “You can burn all the skin from my bones, Helion. I don’t fucking care. I’m going after her.”

“You are chasing a ghost. Continue, Doctor.” 

Mersan deftly melted the skin from Oberon’s left leg. Long minutes passed. My prisoner didn’t say a word. I sighed. Time to heal him and repeat the entire process.

Perhaps we should apply the device to Oberon’s cock. That would loosen his fucking tongue.

 The door behind me slid open.

“Commander?”

I turned around to acknowledge the Elite Hunter I’d assigned to guard the door—and prevent interruption. “I asked not to be disturbed.”

“Of course, sir. My apologies. But there is an urgent message from the transport room. One I do not believe you would want to miss.”

“What is it?” If the bureaucrats’ idea of urgent was another overlong political update, or a Coalition brief on battleship deployments, I didn’t want to hear it. Of all the worlds we protected, who the fuck did the citizens think gave the leader of the entire Coalition Fleet that information?

“It’s from Prillon Prime, sir. From the capital.”

Prime Nial then. Asking for yet another favor? No. Not asking. Demanding. Two beings alive had the right to my immediate attention: one, a female I had wronged beyond all redemption, the other, the leader of my home planet. I wouldn’t ignore Prime Nial. He was the one Prillon with enough power to fuck up my entire life’s work. One word from him could dissolve the Intelligence Core completely. Retire the program. He wasn’t a politician, he’d been a warrior first. Taken and tortured by the Hive. Integrated. He’d survived. That alone earned him my respect. “Very well. What is it?”

The male stepped inside and held out a small tablet. He knew better than to say anything of import to me in front of a prisoner.

I glanced down, expecting to see a short, brief message asking for gods only knew what this time.

Instead, there was one word from the Prime, and a bit of data from the transport network the Coalition used to travel long distances.

              Congratulations.

              Transport immediately. Interstellar Bride Willow Baylor. Human. Earth.

              Matched Mate: Commander Zarren Helion

What. The. Fuck. “This is a mistake.” I handed the tablet back. I looked up to see Oberon Arcas watching me, his expression calm. He didn’t so much as flinch as Doctor Mersan dissolved an ever larger area of skin from his back and shoulder. Fucking stubborn Prillon. He refused to accept the truth. My best Hunter, Kayn, had tracked his sister for weeks and felt nothing.

She was dead. Only reason an Elite Everian Hunter couldn’t track someone was because they were no longer trackable. No life force. No energy. Gone.

Oberon needed to accept the fact that his beloved sister had been taken by the Hive and those evil fuckers killed her. I needed to destroy the Hive base before they slaughtered any more people under my protection.

He would break. He was going to tell me every fucking secret he had.

“I will be indisposed for quite some time.”

Too bad the cocktail of mind-altering substances we’d already given Oberon seemed to have zero effect. Mersan was afraid to give him more. Said it might kill him. Unfortunately, I agreed.

Fucking Arcas family. Too strong for their own good, every damn one.

“And if it’s not a mistake, Commander? What should we do when the… guest arrives?”

I shrugged. “Make our guest comfortable. Be… accommodating. I will clear up the misunderstanding when I am finished here.”

“Is there anyone else who should be notified?” He meant, did I have a second, another Prillon male who had agreed to protect and care for my mate? Prillon warriors always claimed their mate together. In the event one male perished in the war, the second remained to protect and care for their mate and any children.

“No.” I had no mate. Wanted none. I was not even in the system. I had not thought to burden another warrior with the solitude of my choice. I had no need of a second, because I would not take a bride, not while the war continued.

“If the guest inquires, sir, how long might you be?”

Mersan healed the skin covering Oberon’s back and moved the RGR to the skin of Oberon’s thigh. Our prisoner didn’t even flinch as nearly a third of his muscles were exposed. Fucking Prillon wasn’t even tied down, the lack of bonds irrelevant. He knew there was no way out of this room, let alone off my ship. My ship. My rules.

He would break. The female bride, whoever she was, wasn’t mine. She would have to wait.

“As long as it takes.”