Entered in the Alien Bride Lottery by Margo Collins (easy readers txt) 📕

warrior executed a sharp bow, though, I gathered my wits—at least enough to mutter, “No problem,” and step around him.

I followed the Poltien once more, but I couldn’t help glancing back one last time, only to find the beautiful alien man staring thoughtfully after me. When he caught me looking, he smiled, this time revealing a deep dimple in his turquoise cheek. I whipped my head back around and focused on my surroundings.

I would not let one alien hottie distract me from my plan.

We made it to my Bridal Suite moments later, and this time when I glanced back behind us, the warrior was gone. I couldn’t decide whether the sigh I heaved was of relief or disappointment. Probably a little of both.

“These will be your quarters,” the Poltien said, opening the door onto a room decorated in shades of white ranging from eggshell to antique, and included a princess-style vanity with a matching stool, a single bed with a white lace spread, and a white chintz chair in a corner next to a perfectly white side table. The whole thing practically screamed Bridezilla.

“This is...nice,” I finally said.

“The lavatory is through that door and there are new clothes in the closet.” The Poltien pointed to doors on the left and right sides of the room. “Makeup and wardrobe will be here in one standard station hour. Please be ready.”

“But—” I began as it backed out of the room. “How long is a standard station hour?” I finished my sentence by speaking to the closed door.

“Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” I muttered to myself.

I headed toward the door the Poltien had indicated was the lavatory, hoping it wouldn’t take me long to figure out how to work any alien technology.

I yawned widely. It had been almost one in the morning when I’d been stolen from my night out. I had no idea how long it had taken to transport me to the station. No matter, though—my internal clock was screaming that it was time for me to go to bed.

First, though, I desperately needed a shower.

Chapter Four

Cav

I settled into my seat in the warriors’ viewing room, watching the screen avidly as I waited for Vos to introduce the woman who’d barreled into me in the hallway.

The instant I touched her, I knew. The instinct came from deep within me.

This one is mine.

I would kill any man who tried to take her from me.

Then her eyes had met mine, so wide and surprised, and she had spoken in that perfect, submissive voice.

At the memory, an unbidden growl rumbled in my throat.

One of the other warriors still standing in the room cut his gaze in my direction. “Saw something you liked, brother?”

I sized him up, then waved one hand in the air dismissively, not wanting to give away any more than necessary. “Perhaps. We’ll see.”

He moved closer, offering the abbreviated Khanavai salute—a fist to the chest in two quick thumps, one with the side of the fist by the thumb, then a second with the closed fingers toward the chest.

I returned the salute, reading the insignia on his vandenoi strap. “Special Ops, huh? I’m waiting for word on my own application.”

“Zont Lanov,” he introduced himself.

“Cav Adredoni,” I replied. “Stationed on the Jalzinian.”

He lit up when I mentioned my ship. “Earth defense, huh? Nice. I haven’t worked any ops out here yet, but I’m hoping to go undercover on Earth someday. Command Central thinks an Earther mate will be good practice for that.”

“Undercover? I didn’t know we ran any ops on Earth.”

He shrugged. “Only a few. It’s not like they have any tech we need. But there are always rumors of Horde infiltration. So far, they’re the only species we’ve found with DNA similar enough to ours to mate. We can’t allow the Alveron Horde to poison them as they did us.”

I nodded somberly. Once we’d discovered that Earth held the answer to reviving our population, the Khanavai had begun protecting the small blue planet with a ferocity usually reserved for our home planet.

“So apparently Command Central thinks you need an Earther bride, too?” Zont continued, changing the subject back to the more pleasant aspects of our connections with Earth.

I shrugged. “No evidence my groom’s spot is anything more than a coincidence.”

Zont threw his head back and roared with laughter. “There is no such thing as a coincidence, brother—that’s something you’ll have to learn if you’re going to join Special Ops.”

I stared at him for a moment. “So you believe I’ve been sent to take a mate as part of my request to join Special Ops?”

“Almost certainly. It’s the kind of thing Command Central would do.”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the screen, watching the parade of potential brides being interviewed by Vos. Very well. If this was a ploy by Command Central to aid my career in Special Ops, I’d take the challenge.

You’ve already chosen your bride, a small voice inside me noted.

Fine. I had every intention of taking that bride in particular.

And nothing would stand in my way.

Almost a full standard station hour later, my mate had still not appeared on the screen, and I had grown tired of watching bland human women simper at me from the screen. Apparently, most of them had heard of Khanavai warrior prowess and were eager to find a mate.

Who could blame them? After all, we were infinitely better than their minuscule human males.

Beside me, Zont leaned forward, apparently engrossed in the show of women parading in front of him. “They’re all beautiful, are they not?”

I huffed in irritation. “I have not yet seen the one I plan to take as my own.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult to choose just one beauty from such a bounty.” Zont’s tone suggested he thought he was agreeing with me. I didn’t correct him. Better to keep my plans secret for now—I wouldn’t want the Special Ops officer to decide he wanted my mate for his own.

When I didn’t respond, he glanced at me. “It might