Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

AILEEN

I 'm halfway to a new life. I blink, eyes adjusting to the lights after the near darkness of the stasis chamber. My legs are shaky as I walk down the ramp of the transport ship, and I cling to the railing for dear life.

A woman, petite and curvy with tiny horns protruding from violently purple hair, holds a sign with my name on it, and my stomach flips with nerves.

The other job seekers on my ships are sorted based on career. Mechanics, engineers, teachers, and other professionals all find their groups based on their own signage, but here I am, alone, and the only human with her name on a sign.

I swallow hard, and the purple-haired woman smiles brightly at me as she catches my eye.

"You must be Aileen," she gushes, her voice high-pitched and breathy. "Oh, I'm so, so happy you're here."

"Ah, me too?" I offer up, but I don't sound convincing, even to my own ears, and she cuts me a quick look that tells me she's sizing me up. "Can you tell me what my job is going to be? Or where I'm going?" I force myself to ask the questions, feeling brave despite the slight stammer to them.

My hand waves at the rest of the transport passengers, who are already moving along with their groups.

"I'm Violet," she says instead, offering a hand. I stare at her open palm. "Don't humans like to shake hands when they meet?"

"It's been a long time since I met another human." The words come out haltingly, and I'm surprised at the depth of the ache in my chest at the words.

"There weren't humans on your station?" she tilts her head, and her eyes shift color from pale blue to dark purple.

"Yes, there were, but… sorry. Sorry." I shake my head. "I'm nervous."

"Oh my stars, of course you are. Of course." Violet looks pleased at my admission, though, which doesn't really help. "Okay, well, let's get you started on the paperwork. Not feeling any stasis sickness, are you? Not going to faint?" Her mouth twists to the side. "Or do something else that human bodies do?"

"I'm…" I take a moment, because I do feel a little strange, and I don't want to faint, but I also don't want them to think I'm weak, so I take a deep breath and soldier on. "More paperwork?" I feel as if I've signed my entire life away before I even stepped on the transport. So many contracts. So many signatures. So many thumbprint biosignatures.

"Yes, but this is more of a, ah, formality when it comes to our paperwork," Violet trills. "Your, ah, employer has already approved everything, so this is truly just for us. Then we will get you to our spa for a massage and a, ah, a species-required makeover?—"

"I'm sorry, a what now?"

"A species-required makeover. The, um, the world you're going to live on is peculiar about certain things, mostly scent- related, and we want to ensure that you make a favorable impression in your new home."

" Right ." The word stretches out of my mouth, and my nervousness starts to curdle into more serious misgivings. I glance over my shoulder at the transport.

Maybe it's not too late to get back on it.

"A massage, too, of course. An esthetician to work on your, ah, look for your new position. A tailor will come by to measure you and have all your new clothes made."

"A uniform?" I ask, perking up slightly. A uniform wouldn't be so bad.

"Ah, no, not exactly. Just follow me, and we'll get you started on your luxury treatment. The home you're going to is providing the works. The upgraded Stardust package. You'll be pampered from now until you get on the shuttle to your planet."

"Home?" I echo, trying to not trip over my feet as I follow her. "Am I going to be a maid or a servant?" A throb of longing goes through me. "A nanny?"

I haven't been around children in a long time, but the idea… appeals to me. A home. Little babies to look after. It sounds… nice.

Even if they aren't human.

"Why would they spend so much on the spa, the uh?—"

"Stardust package," Violet supplies, her legs moving unexpectedly fast considering how tiny she is compared to me.

"Right. So then why this Stardust package, if I'm just going to be a nanny or a maid?" My new employers must be very generous.

A thrill of excitement goes through me.

That would be nice. It would be so nice to have someone else help take care of me. To not be on my own.

To be pampered, even if it's just this once.

A little sigh of satisfaction goes out of me at the mere idea of it.

"You'll see," Violet trills, and before I know it, we're there.

Wow.

"Ooh," I squeak, my eyes wide as I try to absorb it all at once. "This is…" I don't have words for what it is. The room is at least two stories high, and I swear I see birds flitting around at the top. One wall drips with pink and purple foliage, lime-green flowers cascading down on vines, their gentle floral scent filling the room. Another wall's fitted with glinting pink stone, water spilling in a melodic rush from the top.

The whole aesthetic is strange and wild and lovely, and I can't stop staring at it.

I've never seen anything like this in my entire life. It calls to me, and I inhale deeply, some anxious part of me relaxing, melting at it.

"You're going to be perfect," Violet tells me, clapping her hands in delight.

I turn towards her, some of that carefully won calm stolen away.

"For what?" I ask.

The fact that she hasn't told me what I'll be doing, exactly, is starting to put me ill at ease.

"For the Stardust spa package, of course. You'll love it," she chatters, zooming to a cleverly hidden desk. Carved out of the same soft pink stone as the water wall, the desk is adorned with all sorts of plants.

"Sit, sit," she says, and I perch myself on a matching stool.

My hands are trembling, whether from the after-effects of the stasis pod that they stuck me in to get here or nerves from this huge life change, I don't know.

"Okay, so just some final pieces of the puzzle." Violet holds out a data pad, and I press my hand to the biometric scanner.

It dings, apparently satisfied, and Violet exhales a hugely relieved sigh.

"Good. You are who you say you are."

I peer at her, bemused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"This client was very firm about their choice of you in particular."

A frown creases my forehead. "I thought this was a lottery."

"For the participants chosen for the jobs, yes, of course it is. Of course." She beams at me. My frown—and my suspicions—deepen. Something isn't right. "But you're in a new, special program we are rolling out to certain clientele."

"I am?" The question comes out high and squeaky.

"Yes. You are one of our first Starlight Brides. You've just signed the marriage contract to a clan leader on planet Wulfric." The words spill out of her faster than the water racing over the stones behind her, like if she says it fast enough, I won't be able to figure out her meaning. "He's very handsome, and he's in a position of political power, which is why you need the spa package. And you'll have an entire new wardrobe and a staff at your disposal in your new home. Congratulations on your new marriage and career as his wife."

My head spins.

"Wulfric?" I repeat. "Marriage? Career as his wife ?"

"Thrilling, isn't it?"

I stand up, my legs leaden. I don't even manage to take one step before the world tunnels into darkness and I'm vaguely aware of the floor meeting my face.

My eyes flutter open, the strange dream I had about the damned asshole brain in a vial blessedly floating back to my subconscious space.

Someone's rubbing something cool against my cheeks while other hands flutter along my back. Gentle fingers work at knots I didn't even know I had between my shoulders.

I sigh in appreciation, then startle as the reality slams back into me, the relaxed floating sensation not so much ebbing as drying up completely.

"Married?" I wheeze. "I signed up to be married?"

There's a brush running through my hair, and it stops abruptly.

"She's awake," a breathy voice calls out, and before I can react, someone else is squeezing my hand.

"You checked the box for future program consideration on your initial application."

"Violet?" I ask, completely out of sorts but determined to manage a way out of this predicament. Sure enough, her purple hair swims into my field of vision. I'm forced to close my eyes as whoever—or whatever—is rubbing my face places something cool on my eyelids.

It shouldn't feel so good.

I shouldn't be so relaxed.

"Yes. I've gone through your paperwork at least ten times to ensure all the loopholes were, in fact, closed."

"That doesn't sound great," I tell her. "For me."

"You signed all the paperwork. You are contracted into this position?—"

"Marriage," I correct.

"You will live the life of a Wulfric princess," Violet snaps. "This massage? This Stardust package? This is just the start of it. You will be a pampered member of one of the most powerful clans on the planet. Anything you want or need will be provided to you."

"I didn't know," I start, but clamp my mouth shut, really thinking about it. "I didn't know," I repeat weakly.

"You will receive a monthly stipend that's…" She pauses, and whatever's sitting on my eye rolls off as I open it, watching her rifle through her data pad. "It's five hundred thousand standard credits. A month."

I inhale deeply, then sit up as I choke on my own spit.

The patch on my other eye falls off as I cough, trying to catch my breath.

"Five hundred thousand credits?"

"A month," Violet confirms.

"You'd be an idiot not to go," the masseuse says from behind me.

"The tailor already took your measurements," Violet adds. "He'll be back with a full new wardrobe for you."

"Five hundred thousand credits?" I ask again.

It's more money than I've ever had in my lifetime. More money than I've ever considered having.

A month. Monthly. Every month.

The hands on my back resume their careful kneading, and my brain, the one in my head and decidedly not in a vial, tells me I would be a total idiot not to take this job.

Even if the job is as a wife, of all things.

"And what do I have to do to fulfill the contract?" I finally manage, my voice sounding somewhat more normal. A little squeaky and high, sure, but more in control, at least.

Five hundred thousand credits.

"Do you want to see what he looks like?" Violet asks coyly.

Biting my lip, I nod at her, and her smug smile only deepens.

Couldn't hurt to see it. At this point, there's no way out, and five hundred fucking thousand credits a month is a pretty good price for my hand in marriage.

In fact, this is too good to be true. He's probably hideous. That's probably what's wrong. He's probably a ball of slime or some kind of freak with a blood fetish. Though… for five hundred thousand credits a month, maybe I'm into that too…

Violet throws the three-dimensional image of the Wulfric—my soon-to-be husband—onto the floor next to me, and my jaw drops as the life-size hologram slowly spins.

He's not a blob. He's not an Oolasag or a brain in a vial or a tentacle, and I don't know whether it's my own lack of standards or the price tag attached to my hand in marriage or the fact that he is… handsome.

Not just handsome.

He's beautiful .

The man in front of me is at least six inches taller than me. Broad shoulders hidden under a tunic that hits at his hips and wraps at the waist. Despite the loose fabric, there's no disguising the pure power of his build. His brown hair is an odd cut, shaved at the sides but longish in the middle, pulled back into a bun, in this image at least.

It looks silky.

It looks like it would be nice to run my fingers through it.

His face, though.

A strong, well-articulated jaw, high cheekbones that beg to be touched, and hooded eyes a golden-tawny color I've never seen before with a feral, hard edge to them that makes something in my body tighten all over.

"Oh," I finally say. "He's…"

"He's hot," Violet agrees, running a forefinger down the tip of one horn. "Not bad, right?"

"There's got to be a catch, right?" My voice doesn't sound convincing, even to me. "Why would he go to a bride lottery when he looks like that?"

Certainly he has his pick of all the females on his planet.

"Our clients' reasons for choosing Starlight Lottery are classified." Violet grabs at the hologram, whisking it back into the data pad.

I stare wistfully at the empty space.

"Right."

"Now, if he breaks his terms of the contract, then that's cause for you returning here until a new placement can be found. We do have protections in place for you."

"His terms?" I ask, only because I think I should.

I can't stop thinking about the man she just threw in front of me.

Holy hotness.

He looks human.

Except those eyes.

I swallow hard. "Wulfric?" I ask, furrowing my brow. "What species is he?"

What species am I marrying?

"He's a Wulfric," Violet says slowly, enunciating as though that will make it clearer.

"Yeah. I don't know what that means," I tell her, annoyed in spite of the delicious things the masseuse is doing to my back. Who knew I even had that much tension back there?

"Oh. Let me think." She does her thinking by rotating the data pad and flipping through the display there.

I wait, slightly exasperated and very intrigued by this entire situation.

Maybe even a little… excited by it.

Five hundred thousand credits is quite a large number of credits.

"Werewolf. That's the Earth term for them. Yep."

"Werewolf?" That can't be right.

"Werewolf." She nods perfunctorily. "His contract terms are no biting unless approved, as well as no hunting for sport, and no trauma or abuse of any kind."

I blink. "Do some people, er, species, require that? Is that normal for the Wulfric?" My tongue trips over the word, and my head spins.

"The hunting is part of their courtship rituals, but it won't be expected of you. We wouldn't work with a species who would abuse their employees, unless the employee specifically requested that…" She pauses, her fingers wiggling over the data pad. "Which you did not."

Thank goodness for that.

"Can I see him again?" I ask quietly, somewhere between resigned and excited about my future.

If this is what's in store for me, what the hell is going to happen to Bridget?

"I had a friend who was taken to another hub," I sputter. "Can I have her new contact information?"

"Of course," Violet says smoothly. "As soon as you're on planet, we'll send you her new comms details. Does this mean you won't be a problem for us? You accept your contract… again?"

My throat works over the knot in it as I swallow.

The man—werewolf's—eyes flash through my mind.

"I accept," I say.