Captured for the Alien Bride Lottery by Margo Collins (electric book reader TXT) 📕

I opened my eyes as much as I could, seeing her bright red hair bent over my torso, her tiny fingers massaging the edges of the wound in my side.

It’s become infected, I remembered.

Amelia dipped a small square cloth into a plastic bucket of steaming-hot water, then placed it against my side. I drew in my breath on a hiss, the air whistling through my teeth.

Aurelia glanced up at me. “Oh, you’re awake. I’m applying heat to soften the tissues and try to draw out some of the infection. And Dee—the woman who works the front desk at night—is bringing some Epsom salts. We’re going to have to see if we can soak the wound.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, calm, professional. “I’ve also been giving you antibiotics. We’ll keep those up for a while longer.” She frowned. “But if this doesn’t start improving soon, I’m going to have to take you to a hospital.” Her voice lowered and I realized she was talking to herself again. “Consequences and Bride Lottery be damned.”

“Do whatever you have to in order to stay away from the hospital,” I managed to croak out. “I can take it.”

She glanced up at me with a frown, and I remembered she couldn’t understand what I said.

Exhausted by the effort it took to speak, I collapsed back against the pillows.

The next several hours were an agony of heat, and cold, and pain. I tossed and turned, feverish, calming only when I heard Amelia’s soft voice urging me to be still, to let her do her work.

In my fevered dreams, I was in the deserts of Lorish, a sand rat chewing on my side, over and over again, its tiny teeth, sharp and pointed, gnawing at me. I tried to brush it away, and Amy’s hand clamped down on mine. “Stop,” she said.

Right, I wasn’t in a Lorishi desert. That had happened years ago. Earth. “I am on Earth, in a hotel room, with my mate Amelia. Earth,” I muttered aloud.

“That’s right, Earth,” Amelia said, and for a moment, I thought she had understood my words. Then I realized Earth was the only word in my statement that she understood other than her own name.

The next time I awoke, it was to the sound of Amelia’s voice as she opened the door. “Thank you so much.”

“How is he doing?” That was the same feminine voice I’d heard when we first got here.

Dee, I remembered. The woman who worked at the front desk. Part of me marveled that Amelia had trusted someone enough to help us.

“It’s still touch-and-go. The antibiotics, if they are going to help at all, should kick in sometime soon.” Amelia sounded haggard and worn. I managed to open my eyes enough to watch her for a few seconds.

She looked as exhausted as she sounded.

This was not how mate bonds were supposed to work. I was supposed to take care of her, make sure that she was safe and cherished.

“The news this morning described the car you’re in,” Dee said. “You might want to move around back. I will watch him while you’re gone, if you want.”

“Thanks. That would be great.” Then Amelia was gone, and Dee sat down on the bed next to me. I opened one eye to see a dark-haired human woman about Amelia’s age.

“Why are you helping us?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper, glad to talk to someone who could understand me completely. Someone who had not cut out her own translator.

Dee gave me an assessing look. “I’m not helping you,” she replied, her tone acerbic. “I’m helping her. Because I don’t think it’s right that you guys have the option to take women away from their lives, away from their families, away from everything they love, just because you want to have babies.”

I considered what she said, tried to see it from a human perspective. What if someone told me that I had to leave my career in Special Ops? That I had to be torn away from my family, my friends, my entire life, leaving it all behind to go be someone’s mate, whether I wanted to or not.

My stomach sank. For all that the Khanavai had set up the Bride Games so that the brides had a voice, we had not done enough to teach human females what their lives on Khanav Prime would be like. We had not given them enough incentives to join the Bride Lottery willingly.

I nodded, acknowledging Dee’s statement. “I see what you mean.”

She patted my hand gently. “But if she decides to go with you, you take care of her, okay?”

“I will,” I promised.

Amelia sailed back into the room. “Car’s moved,” she told Dee. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“You should probably watch the news,” Dee said. “I keyed your room for our best vid pack. Don’t tell anyone.”

The two women shared a conspiratorial smile.

“Thanks again for that, too,” Amelia said, nodding toward a bag on a small chest at the end of the bed.

“No problem. I’m headed home. Check in with me tonight if you need anything,” Dee said. As Amelia saw her out, I drifted off into sleep again.

Amelia’s next ministrations of my wound hurt like the flames of Earther hell, jerking me awake from a dream involving being tortured by the Alveron Horde. I sat straight up with a bellow.

“Well, that’s one way to reopen a wound.” Amelia’s dry tone made me want to smile, but I hurt too much. I glanced down at my side. It seemed less red and swollen than it had, but now it leaked yellow pus.

“Bad?” I asked, my voice still hoarse, as I gestured at the oozing wound.

Amelia shrugged. “Actually, I think it’s a little better than before. Getting all this drained out definitely won’t hurt.” Her glanced flickered toward my face. “I mean, you’ll probably feel pain, but it will do your body good.”

It felt like an eternity as she cleaned and disinfected the wound, then covered