Chapter One

A plume of dust appeared on the horizon, and Fury bounded to his feet. “There she is!”

“Where?” said Phibious.

“There!” He pointed.

The Haven Ranch foreman shielded his eyes and peered at the distant vista. “I don’t see anything. Hang tight. I’m sure the conveyance will be along soon.”

“No, she’s comi— You’re right. I’m seeing things. I’m overeager.”

Phibious chuckled sympathetically. “You’ve waited a long time. I remember how anxious I was to meet my Xyla, and you’ve had a lot of fits and starts.” The foreman, like a few others at the ranch, had met his wife through the Cosmic Mates interplanetary matchmaking service.

A cyborg with owl-sharp vision, Fury could see what the shamrock-green alien man couldn’t, but he needed to keep his trap shut. He kept forgetting other people didn’t have his enhanced senses. Planet Refuge, colonized by a wealthy alien philanthropist, granted asylum to persecuted beings from around the galaxy—except for cyborgs. Their reputations as assassins preceded them, and they were personae non grata. To gain sanctuary, he’d claimed to be human.

He planted his ass on the bench next to Phibious and tried to hide his interest in the growing plume created by the approaching wagon as it rolled across the dusty plain. Refuge had few roads yet, and none of them led to Haven Ranch, located eighty kilometers from the nearest town.

“How many delays have there been?” Phibious asked.

“Two.” He’d expected to meet his bride upon arrival on the planet but had been informed she’d been delayed due to illness preventing travel, and then there’d been a second delay. He and Jason Steel, the cyborg he’d arrived with, had been on Refuge for a month now. Fury had completed the forms for a match ages ago. Steel, who hadn’t applied until they were en route to the planet, got married three weeks ago. Although happy for his friend’s good fortune, he envied him, too.

Why him? Why not me? Steel had fallen hard for Honoria, but he had dreaded marriage at first. He’d only applied to Cosmic Mates to improve his chances of getting asylum. Refuge granted priority status to couples and families.

Priority status had been secondary to Fury. He’d yearned for a wife his entire life.

Phibious stood up and squinted at the horizon. “I see something now. There’s a cloud of dust headed our way fast. Has to be Gozar. I don’t know where that crazy alien learned to drive. Fortunately, there’s nothing to crash into.”

“Other than every bump and rut for eighty kilometers.” His wild ride to the ranch remained fresh in his mind. Gozar drove like a bat out of hell.

The planet biosphere was primarily tundra, the terrain covered by grasses and low-growing scrub evolved to tolerate the cold, windy climate. Gnarly dwarf trees were few and far between, giving travelers an unimpeded straight shot. Unless you were Gozar. The driver tried to shake your teeth loose by hitting every rock and rodent hole.

“Except for those.” Phibious’s gilled face broke into a grin before he glanced at the duffel at Fury’s feet. “Cleared out all your stuff from the bunkhouse?”

Single refugees lived dorm style. Couples and families got private domiciles. As soon as his wife arrived, Phibious would escort them to their new digs .

“Yeah. Didn’t have much to pack.” He’d arrived with the clothes on his back. He’d been provided with a few changes of clothing—hand-me-downs—and, after getting his first influx of pay credits, had purchased some additional items from the mercantile. All his possessions could fit in one bag.

The dust plume drew close enough to spot the solar-powered wagon, although Phibious, with only 20/20 eyesight, probably couldn’t tell yet. Excitement churned in his gut. Almost. Almost. Before applying for asylum, before going AWOL, when Solutions still owned him, he’d envied human couples. He’d encounter married men with their wives and think, I want that . The desire to have a wife of his own had been one of the main reasons he’d deserted. He’d planned his exit, applying to Cosmic Mates and Refuge, but then the shit hit the fan over the Chicago incident, and he’d been forced to bug out sooner or lose his chance to flee.

“Did you pick your bride, or did you let Cosmic Mates do it?” Phibious asked.

“I let Cosmic Mates choose,” he said. “You?”

“I let them pick. Meeting Xyla was like getting a surprise gift. ”

For fear of being judged, he withheld from Phibious that he had specified a human bride. He had nothing against aliens, but marrying a human woman was the goal. Except for that, he had deferred to their judgment because the choices had been overwhelming. Dark, fair, tall, petite, curvy, slender—he couldn’t decide. And then there was personality. Did he desire someone quiet or outgoing? Artistic or organized? Conventional or flamboyant? Older or younger? There were too many choices!

He figured Cosmic Mates had the expertise to find him the most compatible woman. It worried him a little that the program based its compatibility scores on self-reporting because he’d lied through his teeth on his questionnaire. What if his potential bride had done the same and a horrible mismatch resulted? Figuring one truth was better than two lies, he’d amended his application and checked the honesty box as a must-have trait in a mate.

“Your new bride will be a huge asset to Haven Ranch. She’s a nurse,” the foreman said.

“I didn’t know that.”

“What information did you receive?”

“Her name, Verity Vale. She’s human, and she’s thirty-two years old.” He frowned, recalling the delays for health reasons. “And she’s ill a lot. I hope…she’s not…sickly.” He sighed. It never occurred to him to specify his wife should be healthy. There hadn’t been a box for that.

“If she’s ailing, have no fear. Haven Ranch Infirmary is one of the best hospitals on the entire planet.”

“How many hospitals are there?”

“Three.”

“Let me guess—the other two are also among the best,” he commented drily.

“Except they don’t have Dr. Twygg! He was a highly regarded physician on his home world.”

Fury’s gut tightened with anticipation and anxiety as the conveyance reached the paddock. The wagon fishtailed as Gozar slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the fence.

“Crazy alien driver,” Phibious muttered.

Fury got to his feet. This is it! This is it!

Gatekeeper Delma slid the gate open, and the conveyance entered the enclosure. Hornigers thundered out of range. Even the beasts knew to stay clear when Gozar was behind the wheel. Delma shut the gate then flew to the other side to let the vehicle into the quad .

The conveyance pulled up to the ranch office. In the cab sat the three-eyed, purple-skinned Gozar. Behind him in the wagon sat Verity. Fury’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t get a clear picture through the scratched, dust-covered transparency covering the vehicle frame, but he spotted a woman.

He stepped forward to meet her as she pushed the door open and slid out.

She wore a thick, heavy navy-blue coat against the chill and a matching hat on her head. Wisps of auburn hair peeked out from under the cap. Green eyes looked weary—and more than a little wary.

Of course, she’s nervous. I am, too. This is a huge life-changing step. “Verity?” he confirmed.

“Yes.”

He broke into a wide smile. He’d never been so happy in his entire life. “I’m Mike Fury. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“There’s someone else you need to meet.” She pivoted to the vehicle and leaned in. “We’re here, sweetie.” She reached in and then backed out with a child in her arms.

“What the hell is that?”