Cyborg Celebration (Interstellar Brides: The Colony #11)

Chapter 3

3

R owan

Tears streaked down my face as lingering aftershocks of this body’s very real orgasm pulsed through my core. My physical reaction only made the chaotic mess of emotions—mine and theirs— more difficult to control. I needed those mates back. Needed to feel like I mattered to someone. Anyone. Even two aliens from another planet. They both said they’d kill for me—for her— and they’d meant it. I felt it to my core.

What would it be like to be protected like that? Safe? Cared for? Desired?

“Miss Cochrane.”

“I’m here.” Damn it. I was back in my own body, crying like I was five and my puppy had just been hit by a truck. Devastated. That was the word. Grief at the loss of two males I didn’t even know crashed through me and knocked my breath from my body. This barren, lonely reality couldn’t be mine. “Send me back.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

I blinked, my vision blurry, as my mind struggled to piece together this new reality. The air in the room carried a stale odor, tinged with antiseptic and something metallic that made the back of my throat ache. I was alone wearing a dark gray hospital style medical gown covered in little maroon logos of the Interstellar Coalition of Planets. I wiped at my tears. Stupid. Those men—aliens—weren’t real. They were a computer simulation. Right? So why did their warmth seem to linger on my skin? To add insult to injury, not only was I not being touched, kissed and adored, I sat in a cold, sterile room, the harsh overhead lights glaring down, casting stark shadows that seemed to deepen the hollowness inside me. The firm chair beneath me sent a chill through the thin gown that had bunched up around my hips. Worst of all? I sat in a wet spot, proof that my body’s reaction wasn’t all in my head. My body was wet and ready for them.

Instead, I was facing a young woman with serious gray eyes and no sense of humor.

Talk about a proverbial bucket of ice water. I thought I’d felt lonely when I walked into this place. I’d been wrong. I’d simply never had real connection to compare to my former existence. Now, I had, through the unknown woman’s mating collar, her connection to her two mates. Now I knew what love felt like. It made the dark, empty places in my heart hurt ten times worse than before. There was no guarantee whatever alien I was matched to would fall in love with me. What if I didn’t get that?

Now I knew what being in love was supposed to feel like, how the mating was supposed to be. Open. Honest. Exposed.

No protection. What if I couldn’t operate that way? What if I was broken? Like fundamentally, mentally, emotionally broken beyond repair?

I couldn’t do this. My heart had already been damaged too many times. One more and it would shatter. “This was a mistake. I changed my mind.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, either.” Warden Egara sat across from me, her expression as rigid as the dentist’s chair I was strapped to. A shiver skated up my spine. My heart stumbled in its rhythm.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.” My logical mind had already worked out a solution even as my out-of-control emotions struggled to readjust to this harsh reality. My reality. My life.

“Your testing is complete, and we’ve made your match,” the warden announced, her voice detached, devoid of any warmth. The tone seemed to suck the last trace of life from the room, leaving only the persistent hum of machinery vibrating through the walls and floor.

I licked dry lips, tasted the bitterness of my own disappointment as it settled like ashes on my tongue. The dream had slipped away too quickly, leaving an aching void in its wake. I had felt safe for the first time, cherished even, as if I could melt into someone's embrace and stay there forever. But now, that illusion shattered, leaving only this clinical emptiness. The phantom press of strong hands still lingered on my skin, the sensation of being cradled like something precious teased the edge of my memory, and I longed to hold onto that feeling just a little while longer, as if I could trap the last fading warmth.

“It’s over?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the edges frayed with the effort of masking my disappointment. The word felt jagged in my throat, catching on something raw. My chest tightened, each breath coming shallow, as if I couldn’t quite draw enough air to fill my lungs. “Was that a dream?”

“Not exactly. During a formal claiming, the NPU of every bride captures the experience and enters it, anonymously, into the database for future psychological processing. During your testing, we create a psychological profile and the system automatically filters through all available data to find the closest matches. At that point, your consciousness directs the selection process until it settles on an experience most closely aligned with your needs and desires.”

“That was real?” Holy shit. Some woman had actually felt all those things? That kind of desire. Pleasure. Love? “What about the guys?”

“The warriors and fighters are processed in a similar manner, focused on what they require from the female’s responses to their nature. Prillon warriors do not have the same needs in a mate as Atlan Warlords, for example. Some warriors need sassy, independent mates. Some prefer submission as they have a deep need to provide and protect. There are thousands of matches in the database, hundreds of thousands. Trust me, Rowan. We are very good at what we do.”

I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t stop myself. “What if I’m too broken? What if I can’t ever love someone like that?” There. I’d said it. My worst fear.

“Trust yourself. Trust your mates.” She placed her hand on my ankle with unexpected gentleness. “You’ll be all right. I promise. Now,” The warden nodded briskly and looked back at her screen. “Please state your name for the record.” She lifted her hand and resumed tapping, with rapid precision, on the sleek tablet in front of her. Each tap seemed to echo in the room, a constant reminder of the unyielding system that surrounded me, controlled my life, had always controlled me, since the moment I was born.

God, I was tired of fighting it.

“Rowan Cochrane,” I replied, the name sounding hollow, like it didn’t quite belong to me in this stark room where nothing felt real. The syllables felt unfamiliar on my tongue, as if I had spoken them for the first time. I wondered who the other woman was? The one whose body I’d inhabited, the one whose mates would kill for her. What was her name? Was she a human? Was what I’d just seen a memory, or some crazy, life-like simulation created by an alien computer?

“Miss Cochrane, are you currently married, or have you ever been married?” Her gaze never lifted from the screen; her words as perfunctory as if she were asking my shoe size.

“No,” I answered, my voice tight. The chair’s unforgiving surface pressed harder against my back, and I fought the urge to squirm away from it. A cold bead of sweat trailed down my spine, clinging to the edge of my gown, and the chill of the room seemed to seep deeper into my bones. Was it actually cold in here? No. But anxiety was a bitch.

“Do you have any biological or adopted children you are responsible for?” The question floated between us, meaningless, as if we both knew she already had the answers, and this was merely a formality. The sound of my own heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out the sterile monotony of her voice.

“No, I do not.” My fingers clenched the armrests, the cool metal digging into my palms, grounding me as much as it restrained me. I could feel the burn of the leather straps rubbing against my wrists, and I fought back the urge to yank against them, knowing it was futile.

The warden continued tapping away, her nails clicking rhythmically, like the ticking of a clock in a too-quiet room. “Our protocols matched you to a mate. You have thirty days to accept or reject this mate.”

A heavy weight settled in my chest at her words, sinking deeper with each breath. The thought of pairing with a stranger, binding myself to someone I had never met, stirred a quiet panic within me. My pulse quickened, thrumming through my veins with a desperate insistence, each beat echoing in the hollow of my throat. Did I really have no other option? The metal cuffs dug into my skin as I tensed, my muscles rigid with mounting dread.

The alternative loomed like a dark shadow in the back of my mind—twenty years in a cell, my life slowly wasting away behind bars. All because of a system that had already betrayed me once. A world that had chewed me up and spit me out. I had worked my way through college, pulling late nights and weekends while others partied, only to end up framed by an employer I once trusted. The scent of stale coffee and the memory of fluorescent-lit cubicles haunted me, taunting me with the futility of all that effort. A crime I didn’t commit had sealed my fate; the word “guilty” stamped on my record like a brand that burned every time I thought of it. And what had mankind done for me in return? Nothing but betrayal. Starting with my parents, who never believed in me, who always found me lacking. And it hadn’t stopped there—no one had ever been any better. The people I counted on the most either disappointed or abandoned me. I was alone, had always been alone. I had hoped that working hard would change that, but it hadn't. Nothing had.

The truth lodged in my throat as I stared at the warden, resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. There was no true love, not for someone like me. No knight in shining armor would rescue me from a life sentence. I was just an expendable pawn, traded from one system to another. The cold reality pressed against me like a vice—if I didn’t accept this alien "match," I would rot away in a cell. They made sure of that, hadn’t they? Every path back to a normal life had been neatly sealed off, leaving me with no choice but to submit or suffer.

“Remember, Rowan, he was matched to you as well. What you need, he will give you. It is his right, his duty, and most importantly, his privilege.” Her voice took on a different note, as if some hidden promise lay buried in her words, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was. Her tone slid over me like oil, thick and suffocating, leaving a greasy film of discomfort in its wake.

I stared at Warden Egara, the sterile scent of the room suddenly suffocating, the fluorescent lights glaring overhead, their brightness searing into my eyes. A mix of fear and curiosity twisted inside me, tightening my throat like a noose. What was she talking about? I had no desire to “match” with anyone, let alone some dominant man who would claim control over my life. The memory of a firm hand encircling my throat during the simulation flared up in my mind, making my skin tingle with a strange, unnerving heat. The sensation seemed to creep under my skin, like a dark promise I hadn’t asked for. But I refused to believe there was a man strong enough to take me, to bend my will without breaking something vital in the process.

“Your mate will do everything in his power to make you happy,” she murmured, her eyes flickering with something like wistfulness. Her gaze bored into me, as though she could see through the facade I put up. “You’ve been matched to Prillon Prime, to a male on The Colony. They are very devoted mates.”

“How do you know?” I demanded, my voice rising, edged with anger and desperation. The air thinned, as though the walls closed in, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I gripped the armrests harder, my knuckles whitening as a tremor ran through my body. Why were they sending me to the Colony? Wasn’t that like a prison planet for fighters who couldn’t go home? Was I going from one prison to another?

What other choice did I have? I was terrified to leave Earth, to face the unknown with no one to turn to. The future loomed ahead, dark and uncharted, like the space beyond this room, the suffocating weight of it pressing against my chest. But what could I do? The quiet hum of the machinery grew louder, vibrating against the metal restraints, mocking my helplessness with every pulse. I felt like a pendulum swinging wildly from bliss to panic, from logic to terror. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be in prison. I didn’t want this fucked up life that I’d somehow created for myself.

Why did the aliens have to invent technology for mating? Why not a time machine? If I had a time machine, I could go back and undo every bad choice I’d ever made. I’d go back and choose a different path.

“You have thirty days to accept your matched mate or choose to be matched to another,” she repeated, as her fingers raced over her tablet. I tried to see what she was doing, but she stood near the foot of my chair, and I couldn’t even sit up all the way with the restraints around my wrists.

“I know that. I read the contract.” I had, too. It was digital, so I had no idea how many pages it was but reading it had taken me several hours. I had thirty days to accept the match they gave me or tell them I wanted to be matched again to another male on the same planet. There was no coming home.

Technically, I wasn’t even a citizen of Earth anymore. I belonged to his home planet. His world. The second I’d been matched to an alien, I’d sealed my fate.

No. The moment I’d sent that flash drive and data to the reporter was the moment I couldn’t take back, the decision that had ruined my life.

A bright blue light flared in the wall beside me, searing my vision, and I strained against the restraints, the leather straps biting into my skin as panic clawed at my chest.

“You read the whole thing?” Was she laughing in disbelief or pity?

“Every word.”

“You’d be the first.”

Was she making a joke? Now?

“Not much to do in prison.” I froze as a long, gleaming needle slid from the wall and hovered near my head, its metallic tip catching the light, glinting like a promise of pain. I held my breath, the sharp sting of antiseptic filling my nostrils as the needle pierced my skin. Pain flared briefly, like a flash of lightning, radiating outward and then receding, leaving behind a dull throb that pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

“Do not worry, Rowan,” Warden Egara’s voice cut through the haze of pain, her tone unyielding. “The device implant is your permanent NPU, Neural Processing Unit. Without it, you would not be able to speak to or understand your mates.”

“Mates? You said I was matched to a mate from Prillon Prime.” I’d have two? Just like in the dream?

“You read the contract. Did you skip the part about Prillon males choosing a second?”

No, I had not skipped that part. I just hadn’t believed, for a single second, that I would be the type of girl who wanted two lovers to claim me, two cocks filling me up, making me come. I’d assumed I would end up with an Atlan Warlord or an Everian Hunter, someone who was into traditional, one-on-one relationships. This had to be a mistake. Right?

My thoughts spiraled in a chaotic whirl, questions tumbling over one another as the chair reclined slowly, lowering me into a warm pool of blue water. The heat seeped into my skin, chasing away the chill of the room as an unnatural tranquility invaded my limbs.

“Did you drug me?” My words were slurred. Was I drunk? What was in this water? Why did I just want to go to sleep?

My eyelids grew heavy, the edges of my vision blurring as the hum of the equipment lulled me into a drowsy state. Each beat of my heart echoed in my ears, the sound merging with the low thrum of the machinery.

“When you wake, Rowan Cochrane, your body will have been prepared for Prillon Prime’s mating customs and your mate’s requirements. He will be waiting to welcome you.” Warden Egara’s words sank into my consciousness, lingering like an uninvited guest.

The darkness cradled me, drawing me under as if it, too, offered some kind of escape.

Warden Egara’s clipped voice was the last thing I heard above the quiet humming of electrical equipment and lights. “Your processing will begin in three… two…one…”