Rebel Mate (Interstellar Brides Program #20) - Grace Goodwin Page 0,2

my fucking money back. Not that I paid any.

“Oh no, female,” Bertok said, his voice low and menacing as he grabbed hold of my arm. “You’re mine now.”

His? Yeah, no. I slipped on one of the steps and stumbled to stand beside him.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought. Um… what the hell was happening?

“I… I—”

I didn’t know what to say. I was numb. Afraid. So very lost and completely out of my element. It was one thing to be in a back alley in Southie dealing with shit. I’d have on shitkicker boots with jeans that had pockets for a switchblade. A cell phone. Here? Now? I was barefoot. Naked except for a thin robe and weaponless. The guy might have been old, but I was no match for that blade or his skill in using it.

“You saw what I did to your mate,” he said. “I can do that to you before you utter a scream.”

I took a breath, smelled the metallic tang of blood. My mate’s. Wait. Wait.

Why had he killed Naron? He wasn’t just some crazed lunatic on a killing spree. We weren’t standing in the middle of a gang fight. At least I didn’t think we were. This guy was sane. Focused. He had a reason for wanting Naron dead.

Me. He wanted me.

“You won’t kill me,” I replied, licking my suddenly dry lips. “You want me for yourself.”

He didn’t smile, but he laughed. “I do not want you for myself. I have a worthless mate already. You are too valuable to keep.”

Oh shit. This was not good. Were assholes the same everywhere in the universe? This guy was going to… sell me?

“What… what are you saying?” I asked then swallowed hard. I wanted to hear it from him. To know exactly what the fuck he was doing.

“Enough. Females do not speak.” He reached out and grabbed my arm, his fingers like talons in my skin, and pulled me out of the tent into the bright sunshine. I squinted as I held my robe closed, trying not to trip on the long hem. We were in some kind of encampment, perhaps fifteen or twenty similar tents spread out over the desert. I saw no one nearby, only in the distance. I didn’t dare scream, for they were too far to save me if this guy… Bertok, decided to use his knife on me. I tripped over the root of a scrubby bush. There were also wind-bent trees and rugged mountains in the distance, completely different from inner city Boston. Not a speck of concrete anywhere. Beyond this small clump of civilization, I saw nothing as far as I could see.

The test was supposed to offer me an almost perfect match, and it said Trion? The machine had definitely been broken because I didn’t even like the beach. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I’d gotten in and out of shit in my time. This, though, was out of my league. Or universe.

He tugged me to another tent. This one obviously belonged to him, for the floors were covered in thick carpets. Pillows and low tables with gilded bowls of fruit and other strange foods upon them. It was exotic… rich. As if this guy would skimp or live without luxuries.

Yanking my arm, he pushed me forward, grabbing the robe as he did so. It slipped from my shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor at his feet. I was naked while he was clothed.

I was fine with my body. I had no real issues with modesty. Sure, I’d been told my boobs were small, but whatever. At least I didn’t give myself two black eyes if I ran. This felt different though. Subjugation. We weren’t equals, and he was making that very obvious.

“If you’re selling me, rape won’t make me more valuable.” I began to shiver, even though it was quite warm. I tipped my chin up. I’d never let anyone see me afraid, and I wasn’t going to start now. I’d never let him see how I really felt. No fucking way.

His white brow rose. “A mouthy female. I’m sure your buyer will enjoy taming you.”

He turned from me and went to a table, picked up a gold chain and what looked like a thick, golden collar. He still held the dagger in his other hand, reminding me as he approached that I was definitely at his mercy. I’d learned long ago fighting back was important but to do it