“What’s retirement?” she asked, confused.
“It’s when a soldier or pilot reaches the maximum number of service years required. Some men choose to stay in the service in teaching or support roles. Others take their families to settle on an Alliance planet.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I always thought I’d stay in uniform until the day I die, but if I have daughters, I think I’d want to retire to some safe, quiet place.”
“And if you have sons?”
“Well, they’ll be in the Academy once they’re of age.”
She seemed unhappy about that. “You send your boys away? When? Where?”
“At five or six, depending on the boy’s maturity. My family has always sent our sons to the Academy in our home world—Prime—but the bombings last year destroyed the main academy. There are other, smaller schools on planets we control, but Prime was the best.” He could see her wavering at the idea of sending away her children. “We’re building a new school here on Calyx. It will be operational in three to four years.”
“And I would be able to visit?”
“Yes. The boys would be allowed to come home for two days after every five of instruction. As they get older, they have three days of leave every month.”
“That’s not much.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s necessary.”
She studied him, and it was unnerving, as if she could see right into his soul. “Yes, I can understand why that would be necessary to do what you do.”
Another bell sounded in the distance, signaling the end of the Grab. Swift held out his hand. “It’s time.”
“For?” She grasped his hand and let him help her stand. At her full height, she came to the same level as his heart. He wasn’t a romantic fool, but damned if that didn’t make him smile.
“This.” He reached into the pocket of his shirt and retrieved the white collar he had been carrying for months. He rubbed the leather between his fingers, feeling the supple give against his skin. He eyed her neck, already thinking of how she would look marked with his love bites.
Her gaze remained fixed on the collar. She raised her eyes to his, and they were watery and scared. “I’m not a dog.”
His hand dropped, and he realized he had hurt her feelings. “I know that. This is our way of showing ownership.”
She took an anxious step back. “Ownership?”
“That’s the legalese that describes our mate bonds. Marriages,” he amended, remembering the term they preferred here.
She touched her bruised lip, and her thoughts seemed to drift away for a moment. Eventually, she said, “I suppose it’s the same everywhere for women.”
He didn’t like the way that statement made him feel. Guilty. Bad. She wasn’t wrong. On the ground or in the sky, women belonged to men, first to their fathers and then to their mates. It wasn’t fair, and he could acknowledge that. But it was reality, his and hers.
Very slowly, she turned around and grasped the end of her braid. She swept her hair over one shoulder and out of the way, baring her neck for his collar. “I’m ready, sir.”
Stars help him, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard anything sweeter. He closed the distance between them and unlatched the collar. He draped it around her throat and buckled it in place. He slipped his finger between the leather and her soft skin to make sure it would be comfortable for her. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered softly.
“My name is Swift.” He gently applied pressure to her shoulders and silently coaxed her to face him. He ran his hand down her long braid. The image of her dark hair wrapped around his hand as he pounded into her from behind left him nearly dizzy with arousal. He traced the front of the collar, and his intimate touch caused her skin to flush and her breaths to deepen.
Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move or turn her head, he swept in to kiss her. Her eyes widened as she realized what he intended to do, but she didn’t pull away or tell him no. He moved even closer, and at the last second, purposely missed her mouth to press a featherlight kiss to her jaw. She exhaled shakily, and he dotted more kisses along her jaw and toward her neck. His lips settled against her pulse point, and he could feel her heartbeat pounding against his mouth.
She inhaled sharply when he lightly grazed his teeth over her vulnerable neck. She gripped his shirt in both hands. He gripped her waist to make sure she wasn’t about to fall. She whimpered, and the sound drove him fucking crazy. Finally, he claimed her mouth. He was gentle about it, careful of that sore lip. She whimpered again, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to lift her up right there against a tree and rut into her like some wild beast.
She’s your mate. There’s all the time in the world for that.
His blood rushed through his veins, and he eased off their kiss. He wanted so badly to stab his tongue between her lips and taste her completely, but he knew if he gave in to that desire, he would lose control. She had already been scared and hurt by a man. He would be damned if she feared him, too.
Her eyes glimmered, and she smiled shyly up at him. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. As he gazed down at his new mate in wonder, he realized he didn’t even know her name. “What are you called, darling?”
“My name is Alys.”
“Alys.” He liked the way her name sounded. “Are you ready to come home with me, Alys?”
She nodded, her expression a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Take me home, sir.”
Chapter Five
Did I make a mistake?
The heady excitement of the kiss she had shared with Swift had long since faded. Now, standing there next to him as they waited their turn to enter a white tent, she second-guessed herself. He seemed completely oblivious to the stares, but she wasn’t. She saw the surprised glances and double takes. Their reactions made her feel even more uneasy about her decision.
Swift’s big, warm hand settled on her nape, and he guided her forward into the tent. She didn’t even try to hide her appreciative gaze as she took in his handsome profile. Handsome didn’t seem to do him justice. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Pale silver blonde hair. Eyes as blue as the sky. A strong jaw. An easy smile.
He made her look and feel small, and that was no easy feat. He towered over her, and his muscles in his forearms rippled with every move he made. If ever there was a man who could pick her up, it was this one. Not that she would ever let him! Even if he could lift her, he would probably strain his back trying to carry her considerable weight any distance.
All around them, men deferred to him. Salutes. Nods. She didn’t have the faintest idea what all the bars and stripes on his uniform meant, but she noticed he had more than the others. That must mean he had been in quite a few battles and had earned numerous promotions. He seemed well-liked by his comrades, and she hoped that meant he was affable and fair.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t worthy of this man. He was too perfect, and she was, well, she was decidedly not perfect. Fat. Frizzy haired. Plain.
Why would he want me when he could have had any of them?