Mated to the Beast (3 page)

“Now!” Commander Deek shouted. “Unless you want an Atlan berserker in beast form tearing apart this ship.”

The medical officer jumped a foot and nodded his head as a doctor hurried to take over. She was wearing the formal green uniform of all high-ranking doctors, but she was small and delicate, nowhere near big enough to stop me if the frenzy I felt building within were to break free. I fought back the fury in deference to the tiny female, thankful the huge Prillon doctor I spied on the opposite side of the medical station wasn’t standing before me now. My reaction to the woman was telling. Commander Deek was right. I needed a mate to calm the beast. Didn’t mean I liked the idea.

“It can wait,” I grumbled, not eager to be the center of everyone’s attention. The thick rumble of my voice was further evidence of how close I was to the edge of control. I’d been feeling the call to mate for weeks and had ignored it. There was always another battle, another Hive outpost to destroy. I had a job to do, and my body was no longer allowing me to do it. Instead, my cock and my mind had become tuned to just one need: the need to mate, to rut, to fuck until I couldn’t see straight. I needed a mate to calm the beast, or the beast would consume me until I was nothing but a mindless animal. And now, everyone on board this ship would know just how badly I needed to get laid. Mate or die. That was the way for an Atlan male. We were too powerful to be allowed to go feral. If I didn’t mate soon, the other Atlan warriors would be forced to execute me, as was their right.

I knew all of this, and yet I had truly believed I could hold off the mating fever just a few more weeks. I’d be home, then. My service to the coalition military served. I’d be free to choose any woman on the home world. I’d be a victor, sought after and fought over by the smartest, most beautiful, the most desirable females. If I could just make it home.

“I wouldn’t have to scare the staff if you had told me your mating fever was upon you,” he countered, releasing his grip on my shoulder.

“I don’t see what that has to do with my performance in the last raid. I’ve got it under control.”

“You rushed straight into our line of fire and singlehandedly took out an entire squadron of Hive scouts. The last two you did not simply shoot. No, your beast demanded their heads be ripped from their bodies.” He crossed his arms and scowled at me. “I’m not some ignorant Trion commander. I’m Atlan. I know the signs, Dax. Your beast nearly claimed you out there today. It’s time.”

I glanced down at my upturned palms. I was just as deadly as any other Atlan, except for the fact that I’d never had such a fiery rage take me over. The Atlan were feared in battle, known to be cold and calculating, and very powerful. No Atlan warrior—at least none free of mating fever—would dismantle a Hive fighter—or three—with his bare hands. It would be judged an inefficient use of energy. But today, I’d laid eyes on my enemies and had an uncontrollable need… this primal
urge
to rip them in half. And so I did.

I’d noticed the intensity of my hatred growing over the past few weeks, but I’d refused to think about mating fever as the reason. I was already two years older than most men when their mating fever struck and had simply tried to forget all about it.

“You should be thanking me for my kill count today, not matching me to an alien.”

He pushed me in the direction the doctor indicated, toward another staff member who had readied a testing station for me. Commander Deek thanked her and shoved me toward the chair once she wandered off to attend to her other patients. “I’ll thank you after you’re mated and I know I don’t have to execute you for losing control.” His grin then was one I expected, the shared satisfaction of victory. “I admit, I will be sorry to see you go.”

A man whose mating fever was upon him was immediately relieved of duty and sent home to Atlan to take a mate. His term of service fighting the Hive was over. A man’s new job was to procreate, to breed his new mate like the beast he was until she carried his child.

Retiring and raising a family while there were still active Hive outposts to fight? No. That, I had no desire to do. I belonged on the front lines of battle, tearing the heads off my enemies and protecting my people. I didn’t need a mate, nor did I desire offspring. I was content with my life as it was. Out here, I was a warrior with purpose. What was I to do with a mate? Follow her around like a lovesick youth, stroking my cock and wasting precious hours trying to convince an alien female not to fear me or my beast? How was I supposed to do that?

When an Atlan turned into a beast, his muscles bulged to nearly twice their size, teeth lengthened into fangs, and the ability to speak was nearly lost. What was an alien female going to do with an Atlan gone berserk?

I needed to go home and find an Atlan female, one I knew wouldn’t fear me. A woman I wouldn’t fear breaking in half with my giant cock and my need to completely dominate her body, to cover her with my bulk and fuck her until she passed out. Resistance riled my beast, and in rut of a mating fever, any rebellion or disobedience from a female would be harshly dealt with. An Atlan female would respond well to my need for control, would grow wet with welcome when I growled at her and would spread her legs wide for my eager cock, knowing that her soft body and wet pussy would tame me in the end. Perhaps she would even allow me to sleep with my head pillowed on her soft thigh, my face next to the sweet scent of her pussy as I dreamed of fucking her again.

But an alien woman? What was she going to expect? A man who daydreamed and wrote love letters and brought her shiny gifts? No. On Atlan, holding a woman’s hands locked over her head and fucking her against the wall
was
a love letter. An Atlan warrior’s gift to his bride was to tie her down and lick her pussy until her orgasms made her scream and beg to be fucked. My cock swelled at the images in my mind and I shifted, trying to hide my condition from Commander Deek. I glanced at his face, at his raised brow, and conceded defeat.
Mating fever.
I simply could
not
stop thinking about fucking.

“Let me go home. I can find a mate on my own,” I replied as I dropped into the exam chair. It was reclined, so I leaned back, crossed my arms over my waist, and stared up at the metal ceiling with a clenched jaw.

“You don’t have time to go through a formal courtship on Atlan. That could take months.” He took a seat on a stool near the end of the table and looked me straight in the eye. “You’ll be dead in a week if you aren’t mated. You have no time to court and woo an elite Atlan female and can be placed at the top of the list for a mate. Clearly your fever offers special accommodation and haste.”

I gave him a disbelieving gaze, raising my brow. “Court and woo? And who said anything about an elite?” At this point, I’d settle for a prostitute on the outer rim as long as her skin was soft and her pussy was wet.

He rolled his eyes. No warrior returned home to Atlan to anything less than an elite female. Warrior mates were prized possessions on Atlan; wealthy, influential and respected. The available females, and their fathers, would expect a full ritual courtship from me, were I to return home now. I was a ground commander, a warlord in charge of several thousand infantry forces and raiding squadrons. I was not a first year soldier returning home with nothing. The Atlan senate would honor me upon my return with wealth, property, and title.

Commander Deek was right. Even if I transported home today, I wouldn’t have an approved mating for months. I didn’t have time for formality. I didn’t have time to woo and court a soft Atlan female. I needed quick and dirty. I needed a woman I could mount and fuck and dominate now, a woman to bring me back from the edge. Someone soft, serene, gentle, and fertile, as the elite females on Atlan were. A woman who could pet my beast and calm my rage.

He cuffed me on the shoulder when he noticed I no longer paid attention. “Listen, Dax. You will only take a mate once and you need to do it right. Even if you’re matched to an alien.”

The idea of coming to actually
like
a mate, an
alien
mate, was highly improbable. But I didn’t need to fall in love. I just needed to fuck her. Well, not just fuck her, but
bond
with her to satisfy my beast’s hunger for touch, for the soothing stroke of a woman’s hands on my body. Should be simple enough.

“All right. Get it done,” I said, resolved.

Restraints curved up and around my wrists and locked into place. My inner beast raged at the confinement, but I remained in control. Barely. I knew this was the fastest way to summon a mate and I focused on that fact above all else until the beast stilled within me, watchful but willing to wait.

The medical officer attached probes to my temples and began pressing all kinds of buttons on the screen in the wall behind my head. I ignored him completely. I didn’t want a step-by-step analysis or explanation. I wanted it over.

“There will be no pain with the testing, Warlord Dax,” the medical officer said, not looking at me but at his screen. “The matching takes into account many factors, including physical compatibility, personality, appearance, sexual needs, repressed fantasies, sexual drive, genetic likelihood of producing viable offspring—”

“Begin, without the blathering.”

The man closed his mouth. Commander Deek may have been in charge of the Atlan battle group, but I was a leader in my own right and everyone knew it. Including, it seemed, those in the medical station.

The man flicked his gaze at Commander Deek, who stiffly nodded.

“Very well. Close your eyes…”

* * *

I opened my eyes to find Commander Deek looming over me. His stern face held a frown and I wondered just how close he was to his own mating fever. “Maybe you should be the one on the table.”

“No,” he growled, looking at the medical officer standing behind me. “Was the match made? Or do I need to send Warlord Dax home on the next transport?”

I blinked a few times, trying to recall what the hell had just happened to me. I didn’t remember much beyond the needy cries of a woman and the bliss of burying my cock deep inside a warm, wet…

“It’s over. The match has been made.” The voice came from beside me and I didn’t need to turn my head to know it was the same medical officer who irritated me earlier by talking overly much. But this time, I required an explanation.

“Are you certain you completed the testing?” I barked. “I don’t remember anything.”

Nothing had happened except I now had vague memories that lingered in the back of my mind, and a painfully hard cock straining to escape my armored pants. I’d been dragged directly from the battlefield to the medical unit, and the hard casing of the ground armor made my erection incredibly painful. With my hands restrained, it wasn’t as if I could even shift my damn cock to a less agonizing position.

The medical officer stepped over to stand near my hip, where I could see him. His voice sounded vaguely bored and routine. “You were put into a trance sequence. Do you remember any of it?”

“Not much. Shadows. The memories are vague.” I closed my eyes. I remembered holding a woman down, her cries of pleasure, the powerful thrust of my hips as the beast took what belonged to him.

“Shadows? That’s why your cock is harder than my ion pistol?” the commander commented.

“Most males do not recall much of the processing data. Their higher levels of aggression during a ritual mating tend to obscure the experience.”

I tried to process what he wasn’t saying. “And the women? They go through the same process?”

He nodded enthusiastically as he removed a sensor from my temple. “Oh, yes. But the brides tend to recall everything.” He cleared his throat. “Down to the most minute sensory detail.”

Commander Deek laughed. “So, the males rut and walk away, and the females remember every detail forever so they can hold it against us later.” He slapped me on the shoulder, hard. “Sounds about right for a mate.”

“It is a consistent result of the testing,” the man commented, “not a judgment on females in general.”

I closed my eyes and sighed, ignoring the throbbing pulse of lust in my cock. If I saw my mate right now, and knew she was mine, I’d leap off this table, rip her clothing from her body, and impale her as I trapped her beneath me on this hard floor until she had so many orgasms that she begged me stop.

I envisioned her perfect, naked ass, pussy glistening with my come as she crawled away from me, her soft, round thighs pale in comparison to the soothing dark green of the medical bay floor. I’d let her crawl a bit, let her think I was finished with her, then grab her, flip her onto her back, throw her legs over my shoulders and fuck her again, my thumb on her clit as I made her chant my name. To anyone not of Atlan, it would sound barbaric, but we gave our mates what they needed, and they needed to know who they belonged to.

My cock pulsed and I growled, eager to find her, to fuck her. Now that I knew she was out there, ready for me, the beast tugged even harder to be free, to take what was his.

I was closer to the edge than I realized. With a supreme act of will, I reined in my need and focused on the conversation flowing around me as the medical officer spoke to Commander Deek.

“…it is often a sign of… compatibility before the bride’s transport begins.”

“Begin the transport then,” I growled. “I am ready.”

The doctor’s assistant jumped and went to work at a wall screen near my feet, his gaze darting frantically from one item to another as his fingers flew over the controls. “Oh, um… yes. Well.”

I tilted my head and looked up at him. He was a large warrior, not the size of an Atlan or Prillon fighter, but not small either. He’d been overly talkative, as most medical crew tended to be, but he wasn’t just chatting now, he was flustered for some reason. Here I was, strapped to this table, torn between the need to fuck my mate and rip another Hive soldier to pieces, as he fumbled with the controls as if he’d never used them before. His ineptitude did not make it easier for me to maintain control.