“Coming to Earth and being on a reality TV show is not an acceptable alternative.”
“I hope you do not think the choice was mine.”
She sighed. “Rachel. Still an optimist after everything she’s been through.”
“Yes.” The warden spoke true. Governor Maxim’s mate refused to surrender hope for any male on The Colony. We all loved her for it. We fought harder, hung on longer, for her. Hoping she was right. Hoping a mate like her would save us as she had saved Maxim and Ryston.
The warden’s small hand came to rest on my shoulder, but I did not look her in the eye. I did not want to see pity now, where before there had been none. Death was a fact of life for a warrior. Accepted as inevitable, especially for those like me who’d been captured by the Hive. I’d survived their torture. I had managed to escape, and yet, in the end, it would be my own inner beast who would kill me. Now or later made little difference to a beast with no female. There were only two things we focused on once the mating fever took us over: battle and fucking.
I’d fucked Olivia Mercier, but she was not here with me. No cuffs were on our wrists. There was no other living creature that my beast would answer to, not now. Not me. No Atlan commander or warlord would dare issue an order to a beast in mating fever. My beast would rage against and defy even Prime Nial himself. The beast answered to no one and nothing but the small female who consumed every thought, every sense.
I was hers. Olivia literally held my life in her hands. If she needed me to die, I would die. It was that simple and that complex. What she needed, I would provide. No matter the cost.
“Death means nothing, Warden,” I explained.
“It does to me.” She squeezed my shoulder, the tiny amount of pressure surprisingly calming. “And to the people you leave behind. Olivia Mercier is your mate. I am pleased you have found her. So be it. We can still save the show, and the others’ chances of getting a mate. We can save you, too.”
I looked up into her face now. “How?”
She smiled. “Well, you are going to go to Olivia’s house. I will give you the address.”
My beast settled, content. He was going to get what he wanted. Egara was going to tell us exactly where to find our female.
She held up her hand, the first finger pointing straight up in the air. “You, Warlord Wulf, are going to act like a gentleman, not a beast. You are going to court her properly, not go all wild and feral on her like you already did. Do you hear me? You will have two days of privacy to convince her to be yours. That’s all the time I can give you.”
I frowned. Two days? “I don’t understand.”
She grinned, and the look was another I recognized on human females, this time from Kristen. Smug. Mischievous. Dangerous. I did not envy Kristen’s mates, Tyrnan and Hunt, when their warrior mate made a face similar to what Egara had now. “I hid her employee file. She was part-time, hired solely for the series, and no one pays any attention to makeup staff on set. I contacted her boss, a woman named Lucy Vandermark. She is refusing to give out Olivia’s personal information to the media. Even though her face is plastered from here to Siberia on every form of social media, no one knows who she is. I spoke to this woman, and we agreed to buy you some time.”
I did not know this Lucy, but I was thankful to her. “Time for what? I will claim her, offer her my mating cuffs, take her home to The Colony.”
“It’s not that simple,” she replied stepping back to pace the small room. “Despite your… scene, the producer has demanded you continue the program as planned. You are under a contractual obligation to make a trip to New York to be interviewed, with your new bride, on late-night television. You were supposed to place your mating cuffs on one of the others tonight, on live television. Seeing you on one knee, basically proposing, was the crown jewel of promotion for the series. They are talking about doing another show, with another male from The Colony. But they need to give the public what they want, and that’s you, on your knees, asking Olivia to be yours in front of the entire world. That’s you and your new mate making goo-goo eyes at each other on international television.”
I must have looked as confused as I felt because the warden raised her hand and swiped it through the air as if swatting at an insect. “There are already memes out there. Some of them are actually very entertaining.”
“What is a meme? And what the fuck are goo-goo eyes and how do I make them? My eyes will not change, Warden. They have been contaminated with Hive—”
“Never mind. It’s another live broadcast, but this time on a talk show. This will ensure that the Brides Program is seen in a positive light, that the whole world sees you and Olivia have your happily ever after and convince every other woman on Earth that they can have the same if they volunteer. You and your new bride have to go, sit in chairs and answer questions. They want the entire world to witness the two of you together and make sure everyone watching sees exactly how devoted and loving you are to your new bride.”
That made my chest puff out. Devoted? Loving? I would love her until she screamed like she had earlier. She would be satisfied. Adored. Worshipped. Protected. The beast rose and spoke before I could stop him. “Mine.”
“Stop that.” The warden scolded me like I was a small boy, and my beast retreated with a grumble but didn’t argue. He was listening. I did not care about this television interview as long as I was with Olivia and my mating cuffs were around her wrists.
“I have two days. Then what? How do we do this talking show? I still do not understand how to make a goo-goo eye. Will Olivia understand what is required?” I wanted all the intel on this situation, not just a little bit. I didn’t want surprises, and if she didn’t want my beast to take over, Warden Egara would make sure there were none.
Warden Egara chuckled. “Yes. Olivia will know exactly what I am talking about.”
Good. I settled more at that information. I would not embarrass myself asking the warden again, not when my mate could provide the information about these strange eyes.
Egara continued. “You have two days with her. Private days. Then you and Olivia get on a plane to New York.”
“A human airplane?” I asked. I’d seen images of them, and I was appalled.
She nodded her head. “Yes.”
“No.” Flying metal death traps. Primitive. Running on fossilized fuels and combustion. Barbaric. It would be safer to walk.
“Yes. It’s perfectly safe, and we are trying to make you appear normal.”
“I am normal,” I countered.
That made her laugh. “Not on Earth, you’re not, sweetheart. Not even close.”
I let that one go. She was an ally, and I was wasting time arguing with her about inconsequential things. “Two days. Then television. Then home?”
“Not exactly.” She cleared her throat and glanced away for a moment. “You messed this up, Wulf. I’m not going to lie. The reason Lindsey and I came up with this idea was to showcase how honorable, strong and devoted you Coalition guys are as mates. We wanted to entice human women not just to volunteer to be a bride, but to request The Colony specifically.”
“The brides can request a planet?”
“Yes. Most don’t, but yes, they can. Since fighters from almost every world are on The Colony, we pushed that element during all the promotions for the show. While you might have been the star of the program, you may have missed these details. We made sure everyone knows about the veterans there, that they are strong, that they survived capture by the enemies and that many of them are now outcasts on their home worlds, including some human males who have fought in the Hive wars and not been allowed to return to Earth.”