When the race began, 21 was at the back of the pack. She was slower than the others, but he didn’t think it was from lack of ability. She seemed tired, exhausted even. Considering she had been riding a horse most of the night, he wasn’t surprised. As he watched her jog across the open field, he began to imagine all the ways he could make her feel comfortable with him. A hot shower, a meal, a massage.
His brain got fuzzy when he imagined sliding his oil-slicked hands over her curves. It had been more than a year since he had last been with a woman. As part of Orion’s mentorship, Swift had agreed to a lengthy term of celibacy to learn to control his emotions and baser needs. It had been difficult in the beginning and easier once he was away on the rescue mission.
Last night, he had been heavily tempted to break his promise. After getting Drift his haircut, he had been invited to the OC. The nights before a Grab tended to be more debauched than others. He considered it for longer than he should have, but the idea of waiting, of holding back for a little while longer had been too sweet. It was silly and disgustingly romantic, but he rather liked the idea of breaking his celibacy with the bride he collared.
And that bride was currently sliding to a stop to help a woman who had tripped and fallen. As she pulled the other woman to her feet, the bell for the men rang. Swift sprinted toward her, his gaze focused on her and only her. She glanced back at the men now racing toward her, and her eyes went wide with panic. She grabbed hold of the other woman’s hand and tugged her forward.
Sprint’s heart raced but not from exertion. Excitement and anticipation left him nearly breathless. That low ache of arousal started in his groin. Every thought in his mind centered around 21. Chase her. Grab her. Collar her. Kiss her. Claim her.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
That one word punctuated his every step. He cut clear of the other men and focused on catching 21. She still held the hand of the woman who had fallen and pushed her forward onto the trail. 21 and the other woman ended up in a pack of seven runners. Thankfully, her height made it easy for him to track her.
A thunder of boots echoed off the trees. He glanced to his left and right. Both airmen closing in on him were lower ranked and had much fewer valor points than he did. If one of them tried to take 21, he would pull rank to get her. It wouldn’t engender much goodwill, but he had earned the right to take what he wanted.
And he wanted her.
He wanted her bad.
There was a blur of movement to his right, and a Land Corps soldier from the Conquest barreled into the group of women. Shouts of anger erupted as the women went tumbling into the dirt. The Land Corps officer never missed a beat. He snatched a blonde by the wrist and started dragging her away like bagged prey. Another soldier who was even bigger caught the asshole and knocked him out cold. He then knelt down to tend the blonde, and Swift suspected they would be going back to the transport ship together.
Swift found 21 on the ground. The fabric of the uniform skirt was up around her thighs, revealing a nasty scrape on her knee. He ignored the other women who were being taken care of and made a straight line toward her. She seemed startled when he crouched down to examine her injury and hurriedly tugged her skirt down over her exposed legs. As much as he wanted to see her bare skin, he wasn’t interested in anything sexual at that moment. He was more concerned about her safety.
“I’m sorry.” He held up both hands. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I want to see if your injury is serious.”
“It’s not,” she insisted stubbornly. When she lifted her gaze, his breath caught in his throat. From afar, she looked pretty, but up close, she was stunning. Gorgeous.
And she’s all mine.
"I have bandages in my first aid kit.” He touched the pocket on his tactical pants. “Antiseptic, too.”
She frowned. “It’s a scrape. I’ve had worse chasing my little brothers around the yard.”
He didn’t have any trouble imagining that. “Do you come from a big family?”
She nodded. “There were fourteen of us kids.”
Staggered by the number, he repeated, “Fourteen?”
“Yes, but not anymore.” Her gaze fell to her lap for a moment. “There’s only eight of us now. Nine if the one Mama has in her belly right now is born breathing.”
The easy way she mentioned the likelihood of a baby dying reminded him of how hard life was here on Calyx. Losing six siblings? He couldn’t even imagine what sort of pain this woman had known in her life.
“You can go.” She gestured to the men and women running by them. “Catch the one you want.”
Realizing she thought he wanted someone else, he reached out slowly and carefully lifted her chin. She tried to look anywhere but his face so he waited until she finally worked up the courage to meet his burning gaze. “I already caught the one I want.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You don’t want me, sir.”
As soon as she called him sir, he was convinced she was the right one. He didn’t like the low value she held of herself. “I do want you.”
She shook her head again, refusing to take his words as truth. “Look at you—and look at me!”
“I am looking at you.”
She blushed, her cheeks and neck turning the prettiest shade of pink. It made him wonder what other parts of her he could make flush with heat.
He noticed the slight swell to her lip. It wasn’t bad. Definitely not from a slap or a punch. “What happened here, darling? Did someone hurt you?”
She dropped her gaze and gulped. Finally, she nodded stiffly.
“Who hurt you?”
“A man,” she said quietly. “He forced me to kiss him, and he was mean about it.”
Worried she had been hurt even worse, he asked, “Is that all he did?”
Her head snapped up, and her expression turned to panic. “No, sir! I’m a good girl! I didn’t let him take my gift. I’m still pure!”
His chest tightened at the desperate way she described herself. Pure. Good. As if her only worth was her sexual history.
“I believe you,” he promised. “It wouldn’t matter to me either way. I only wanted to make sure you weren’t harmed.”
She seemed completely bewildered by him. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to be my mate,” he answered honestly.
She glanced toward the other women being collared around them. “Are you sure you want me?”
He gently turned her face until their gazes melded. “I’m sure.”
She seemed unconvinced. As if to prove her worth, she said, “I have been running my family’s household for the last eight years. I cook and clean. I’m proficient in childcare and homeschooling. I also know my way around a farm, both in the fields and in the barn. Cows, goats, sheep, pigs, chickens—I'm comfortable with all of them. I’m skilled at sewing and mending. I also know how to preserve food, save seeds and maintain a garden.”
Feeling the pressure to reassure her that he could provide, he said, “I’m an officer in the Sky Corps. A pilot,” he clarified, “but I intend to put myself forward for command. I was recently assigned new quarters. They’re the best on the floor. As my mate, you’ll have access to medical care and education. Most of our living costs are covered by my commission. My salary goes toward discretionary spending and savings for my—our—retirement.”