Cyborg Celebration (Interstellar Brides: The Colony #11)

Chapter 7

7

V ance

I descended upon her like a starving warrior at a feast. Marz’s command both freed me and chained me to obey. I could defy him, deny him, but we both knew I would not, not when he offered exactly what my depraved soul craved. To mark her. Make her mine. Dominate her. Possess her.

Our beautiful mate. Her wet pussy wrapped around my cock like a fist. The scent of Marz’s seed in her body, on her flesh, drove me mad with the need to replace him, cover his scent with my own. Claim her for myself.

I barely held back a curse as Marz activated our mate’s ATD, the training device designed to stretch her ass, fill her, prepare her body for the day we would claim her together.

Right fucking now it swelled, made our mate’s pussy tighten, squeeze my cock with relentless pressure.

Fuck.

Unable to resist, I thrust hard. Deep. Filled her completely as Marz activated the electronic vibrator.

I knew what was coming, though our mate did not. The device was designed to ensure maximum pleasure.

Our mate was sated. Well fucked. I feared I would not last long enough to make her come apart in my arms before I lost control.

I should have trusted Marz. The device would increase the vibrations until it reached a peak, sent a targeted jolt of energy directly to our mate’s body, stimulating the nerves inside her pussy and clit to fire. Her pussy to contract. Pulse.

He was going to force her body to respond despite the fact that we’d nearly worn her out already.

Rowan wrapped her arms around me, submissive. Willing to comply with Marz’s command, willing to trust us both with her body.

That trust nearly pushed me over the edge. My cock jumped. The vibration grew stronger. “Fuck.”

“Do. Not. Come.” Marz’s command sent a shiver down my spine, the aggressive need to control both Rowan and his second acted as a vise around the base of my cock.

I didn’t dare pull out. Thrust again. Rock my hips. One uncontrolled movement and my seed would explode inside her.

Her pussy grew tighter. Hotter. The ATD grew to what felt like half the size of my cock, filled her ass, put pressure on my hard length. The vibration increased in speed and strength.

Rowan arched her neck, her lips parted, her breathing too fast. Her heart fluttered inside her chest like a frightened bird’s. But I was connected to her now. Her needs. Her desires. Her emotions. She wanted this. Me. Us. Both of us. Gods help her if she did not because I knew neither of us would ever let her go. Not after this.

The vibration inside her reached its peak. Stimulated her sensitive nerve endings. Pushed her over the edge.

She was not afraid. She was fucking needy. Half mad with lust. Overwhelmed by sensation.

Out of control.

A scream tore from her throat. A sharp contraction pulsed deep within her core. Her shout faded to a sob as her orgasm rocked her body. She took me with her.

My seed exploded from my body with a brutality that bordered on pain. My beautiful, fucking perfect, soft, sweet mate took it all. I filled her up. Marked her.

I fucked her as I came. Faster. Harder. Pounding into her depths without mercy or hesitation. Stars burst behind my closed eyelids as I gave her everything.

All the while, Marz’s need to possess, to dominate, to command, came through the collars and consumed us all.

Marz, Mission Control Room, Three Days Later

The wind outside the dome picked up again, a haunting howl that pierced the steady hum of Base 3’s air purifiers. The noise seeped into the reinforced walls, vibrating through the metal framework like a low, threatening growl. As we gathered in the main operations room, the stale air was heavy with the metallic tang of machinery and fear. The strange weather had been growing worse by the day, battering The Colony with erratic storms, sudden heat spikes, and electromagnetic disturbances that sent static crawling over my skin. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a full night’s sleep, and judging by the tense, bleary eyes around the table, I wasn’t the only one.

For three nights Vance and I pleasured our mate. She slept in our arms, exhausted. Sated. Cared for. Each night I remained awake, vigilant as the storms raged, threatening the only thing I lived for.

Her. Rowan. My mate. The fucking miracle I didn’t deserve but could not give up. I had to convince her to choose me, choose us. In the depths of my black fucking soul I knew that when her thirty days was up, I would die before allowing another to touch her.

She was mine.

“Are you sure about this?” Governor Rone sat at the head of the table, his gaze shifting between us with the sharpness of a blade. His dark brown eyes flickered in the overhead lights, reflecting the weight of decades of command. He, too, bore the remnants of torture at the hands of the Hive, his entire left arm silver hued with Hive implants, his body unnaturally strong. His coloring—dark copper colored skin, dark hair and eyes—could fool one into believing he was similar to Vance. The truth was, where Maxim Rone was analytical and controlled, Vance’s rage simmered just below the surface, ready to explode at the slightest threat to our female.

“Yes, Governor. We are running out of time.” Warlord Tazo stomped the length of the table, pacing with barely leashed impatience. He was newly mated and, like me, clearly worried about protecting his female. “If we must evacuate, I would take Lavender now. I will not risk her life.”

“The moment our mates are in danger, we will leave. Do you forget, Tazo, I have a mate and children to protect as well?” The governor looked older now than I remembered from when I’d first arrived on The Colony, his cheeks more hollow, his jaw set tighter than ever. The governor had been a fierce warrior on the battlefield, but now he bore the weight of The Colony’s survival.

“Apologies, Governor. The storm has me on edge.” Tazo’s uniform smelled faintly of smoke—probably from the damaged walls in the southern sector.

“We all fight the same battle. No apology necessary.” The governor sat at one end of the long table, his mate, Rachel, at his side. To their left sat the repair team—two unmated Atlan Warlords, an Elite Hunter from Everis, and three fellow Prillon warriors. Their integrated limbs strained and flexed beneath our newly created, glistening, exoskeletal armor. The light gleamed off the translucent armor, casting scattered reflections across the table like fragments of a shattered mirror.

Our researchers, led by the Governor’s mate, Rachel, had worked with the Coalition Fleet Intelligence Core to design the new armor. With it, we should be able to enter the storms without fear of electrocution or, worse, being pulled apart by the staggering strength of the plasma strikes shooting through the air like lightning. A direct hit could atomize one of us, turn us into dust, subatomic particles too small to trace.

Theoretically, the armor would protect us. However, it had yet to be tested.

So far, the energy field protecting Base 3 had held. So far, we’d been lucky.

Like Warlord Tazo, and every other mated male on The Colony, I would not risk my mate by keeping her here when it was not safe. The problem had to be solved, the storms controlled. Soon.

Vance sat across from me, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the metal surface. I could hear the metallic tap-tap-tap in time with the flickering lights overhead. His eyes had a hard, focused look, the kind that came with too many hours awake and too many stims in his system. The faint scent of our mate clung to him, mingling with the ever-present chemical sting of the air purifiers. We shared an unspoken understanding… Rowan was the only thing that mattered.

Neither of us would hesitate to die to protect her. Ideally, we would never both be at risk at the same time. One of us would remain behind to care for her. That was the Prillon way. Under normal circumstances, the only way.

These were not normal circumstances.

I could almost feel the tension pulling at his shoulders like a taut wire. I imagined my own posture mirrored his—a rigid, coiled stance, ready for a fight. For the first time in years, we had something, someone, to lose. To protect.

To live for.

I had no right to that happiness. Not after what happened with Perro. Id’ watched the security footage hundreds of times. The memory surfaced, unbidden—Perro fighting the Hive’s hold on his mind long enough to give Tyran a weapon. The desperation in his voice as he’d begged his fellow warrior to kill him. The brief, unrealized hope that maybe Tyran and Hunt could pull off a miracle and save my best friend. The choking rage as I watched the Hive unit activate implants in Perro’s mind, take him over, force him to betray us all.

The look on Tyran’s face when he’d lifted the blaster and taken Perro’s life. Perro’s labored breaths mixing with the static of the comms as life faded from his eyes and all I could do was watch, over, and over, and over again. Watch and question everything. How had I not known Perro was fighting—and losing—his mental battle to remain free? How could I fail him so completely? Would I make the same mistake again?

I studied Vance and shoved the thought away, swallowing the bitterness that rose like bile. I would not fail our mate in such a manner. I could not. I would die before I made that kind of mistake again.

“Captain Marz,” Governor Rone’s voice cut through the fog in my head, dragging me back to the present. “Status update.”

I straightened in my seat, the chair creaking beneath me. The synthetic fabric pressed against my back, overly warm despite the cool temperature of the room. I forced my voice to stay steady. “We’ve sustained minor damage to domes seven and eight. Repairs are underway, but the structural integrity of the biodome is at risk if this continues. We’ve had to redistribute resources to keep essential systems operational. Power is fluctuating again in the southern quadrant.” I could still feel the vibration of the last magnetic pulse, a hum that had sunk into the bones of the base itself.

“And still, we have no explanation for these anomalies?” The governor’s tone was sharp, not quite accusatory, but close. There was a dryness to his voice, as if he hadn’t had water in hours. I could sense the worry beneath the question, shared by all of us.

“No, sir,” I replied, the words like gravel in my throat. “The I.C.’s team hasn’t slept.”

“Neither has my mate.” The governor’s displeasure was clear in his sharp tone.

“I’m fine, my love.” Rachel, seated next to him, placed her hand on his arm.

“You are not. None us are. I have contacted Prime Nial and informed him that we may need to evacuate.” The grave admission fell from his lips like a death nell.

Fuck. I hadn’t realized the situation had deteriorated so quickly. “How long do we have?”

Rachel kept her hand on the governor’s arm, as if to calm him. “We don’t know. There’s nothing natural about this weather. I’ve had our analysts and experts working around the clock, but it’s almost like the atmosphere is being tampered with from the outside.” Rachel hesitated, the weight of her next words settling heavily on my shoulders. “We’re starting to consider the possibility that this could be an attack.”

Governor Rone’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “The Hive,” he muttered, and the word seemed to darken the room, like a cold wind slipping through a cracked window.

No one spoke for a moment. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. The Hive had been our enemy for centuries, a destructive power that had coveted our resources, and our people, from the start. The Hive was responsible for the capture, and torture, of every single male on The Colony. They had forced their warped technology into our bodies. Tried to make us one of their own, control our minds and our bodies with nanotech. If they had found a way to manipulate the atmosphere, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d tried unconventional tactics to disrupt our mining operations. The minerals we extracted from this planet were vital to the Coalition Fleet’s transport systems, and if the supply chain broke down, the repercussions would be catastrophic.

“We need to know if we’re dealing with natural phenomena or hostile interference,” the governor continued, his voice low and rough. “Which means we’re going to need eyes on the ground—outside the dome.”

The weight of his words settled heavily over the room, pressing down like the air just before a storm. I could almost taste the metallic tang of the atmosphere on the back of my tongue, a phantom sensation from the thought of stepping outside the dome's protection. A reconnaissance mission into the storm would be perilous. The terrain outside was already hazardous under normal circumstances, with deep chasms, volatile minerals, and unbreathable air. Now, with the erratic plasma storms and electromagnetic surges, it could be a death sentence.

Vance leaned forward, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. His voice was steady, but I could see the strain, the pulse pounding at his temple. “I volunteer,” he said, glancing at me. He was our best pilot. If anyone could keep a ship in the air under such volatile conditions, it was him.

Yet, as head of security, I knew this planet. Every rock. Every plateau and cavern. If the Hive were here, the team would need my help to find them.

The words left my mouth before I could even think. “Count me in.” I could feel my pulse thudding in my temples, the taste of battle sharp at the back of my throat. My new bride, Rowan, would not be pleased when she heard the news. The thought of her scolding voice filled my chest with a mix of warmth and guilt. She had warned us both, more than once, about taking unnecessary risks, especially now that were building a life together. But this wasn’t just my life on the line—it was the life of everyone on this planet, including hers.

And maybe, if I was out there in the storm, I could finally atone for what happened to Perro.

Governor Rone raised an eyebrow. “You both sure about this?” His gaze flicked to me, lingered. I saw the lines deepen at the corners of his mouth, the subtle twitch in his cheek. “Captain, I understand you are newly mated. It’s not easy to make a decision like this. You risk much.” He glanced from me to Vance. “I would lecture you, demand one of you remain behind to protect your mate. However…”

“The situation is dire.” I nodded, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. “We understand the risks.” Even as I spoke, the words felt thin, like a brittle layer of ice.

“Lieutenant Vance?”

“I agree. And I do not intend to fail.” Vance’s hands closed into fists on top of the table. “One of us will return to our mate.” It was a vow, nothing less.

Rachel, the Governor’s mate, inspected both of us. As one of the few females on The Colony mated to two Prillon warriors, she understood the necessity of our mission, and the risks. “I don’t know Rowan that well, but I do know Earth girls are tough. Do what you have to do but come back to her. I’m not willing to sacrifice a single life on this planet. If we have to evacuate, we will. Do not do anything stupid or reckless out there.” She turned to study every male seated at the table. “That goes for all of you.”

When she’d glared every male in the room into submission, she turned back to me. “Where is your lovely mate?”

“She’s meeting with the other women in the garden. There’s talk about organizing evacuation efforts and resource rationing if the situation escalates.”

“Excellent. I think I’ll join them. Gentlemen.” Rachel gave us a quick nod and hurried out of the room.

The males around the table exchanged glances. A few chuckled, the sound dry and brittle in the heavy air. Vance’s grin was more of a grimace. “I wonder what kind of mischief they are getting up to,” he said, his voice low. Through the collars I sensed his real question; was our mate worried? Afraid? Did she miss us?

“We need to focus on the mission, make sure we come back to her.” As I said it, my mind was already slipping back, not to Rowan, but to Perro. I could still hear the sound of blaster fire, the way his breath hitched and stopped, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. The empty feeling in my gut when I realized I had failed not just him, but Hunt and Tyran, their mate, Kristin, and every warrior, fighter and warlord on the planet. I should have stopped him, sensed something was wrong. Confronted him. Killed him myself, if that was the only outcome.

Survivor’s guilt, they called it. The doctor told me I couldn’t have saved him, that Hive mind control was too insidious, undetectable, even with the medical teams’ most advanced sensors. But the guilt lingered, gnawing at my insides like a parasite. Every time I thought about Rowan—her bright eyes, her smile—I felt like a fraud. I had promised Perro he would be my second. We had fought side-by-side for years. I had believed him the best choice to help care for my future mate, trusted him with my life.

I’d been wrong. The Hive had broken his mind, forced him to betray us all. Cost lives, lives I should have saved. But I had trusted him, blinded by the past. I’d ignored the signs. Even now, his voice still echoed in my head, called me a fool. Weak. Blind.

Governor Rone’s voice brought me back to the present, the familiar rasp a jarring contrast to the phantom sounds of the past. “Then it’s settled. Captain Marz and Lieutenant Vance will lead the recon mission. We’ll outfit your shuttle with the latest storm shields and telemetry sensors. The repair team will stay on standby as your extraction unit. Hopefully we will not need to put the new armor to the test. Your primary objective is to gather data on the source of these anomalies and, if possible, confirm any signs of Hive activity.”

Vance and I exchanged a brief look, his eyes dark with determination, mine shadowed with doubt. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, as if I had bitten into metal. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the pressure building in my temples. It had been a while since I’d last taken a shuttle outside the dome, and the memory of Perro’s betrayal was a specter that clung to me. The stakes were higher, the risks greater, and yet a part of me welcomed it. There was an angry voice inside that told me I deserved whatever the storm had to throw at me—that maybe it was time I stopped hiding behind the safety of Base 3’s walls and faced the danger head-on.

As the meeting dispersed, Governor Rone placed a firm hand on my shoulder. The touch was warm, but it felt like a weight pressing down on me. “Stay sharp out there, Marz,” he said quietly, his voice rasping like gravel underfoot. “And… take care of yourself. You have a mate now. No rash decisions.”

I forced a smile, though it felt strained at the edges. “My mate is my first priority.”

“Of course.” The governor gave a faint nod, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, as if searching for some sign of uncertainty.

I left the operations room and made my way toward the armory. Each step felt heavy, the dull thud of my boots against the metal floor echoing through the narrow corridors. I tried to focus on the checklist for the mission, running through every procedure, every potential variable. But no matter how hard I tried to keep my thoughts ordered, my obsession would not be denied. My mate consumed me—Rowan’s voice, her touch, the warmth of her breath against my skin as she whispered my name.

The sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could get back to her. But even as I pictured her waiting for me, that familiar guilt surged up, threatened to drown out her image. I could almost hear Perro’s voice, mingling with hers, a cacophony of the past and present, one reminding me of my failures, the other a love I wasn’t sure I was worthy of. I tried to silence the noise, clenching my jaw and quickening my pace. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure if I was walking into the storm to protect my mate—or to punish myself.

Vance’s hand came down on my shoulder and he shoved me into a storage room. The door closed behind us and he turned on me, eyes filled with barely contained wrath. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Whatever control he’d been exerting during the meeting fell away and a chaos of emotions blasted me through our connection. I stood my ground. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, Marz. I can feel you, remember? You don’t drop the guilt over Perro and you’re going to get yourself killed. Let it go. There was nothing you could do.” He shoved me in the chest, and I stumbled back, anger flooding me as his fear for Rowan mixed with mine in a volatile cocktail neither of us was prepared to handle.

“Fuck you. You think I don’t feel the chaos in your mind? Your fear? What are you hiding from our mate? From me? You think I don’t sense your constant battle for control?” When Vance’s eyes widened in shock, I knew I was right. I had worried I was being paranoid, seeing things in Vance that weren’t truly there because of what happened with Perro. But no. I shoved my arm under his chin and held his back to the wall. If he struggled, if he fought me on this—protecting our mate—I would kill him here and now. I held his gaze and spoke my truth. “At first, I believed the struggle I feel in your mind was amplified because you were worried about protecting Rowan. Her emotions are raw and dangerous, to both of us. But that’s not all, is it? The Hive have their claws in your mind.”

“For years, Marz. Fucking years. Just like every other cursed warrior on this planet.”

I stared into his eyes, took my time tasting his emotions as they pushed into my mind. First and foremost was the desire to protect our mate. But behind that, floating through my mind like wisps of smoke, was fear. Fear that he would lose control. “I am warning you, Second, either you gain control of your mind, or I will find a second who can.”

“I would never harm our mate.”

“I believe you. For now. The moment I do not, you will be replaced.”

The threat of taking Rowan from him caused a flood of black fury—a killing rage—to fill Vance’s mind. I thought, for a moment, we would fight a battle to the death in this stupid fucking storage closet. Instead, Vance clenched his hands into fists and snarled at me through clenched teeth. “Try to take Rowan from me and you will not survive the attempt.”

He meant every word. Good. “Save that fury for the mission. We have a mate to protect.”