Page 4 of Ulfar

She takes my hand and shakes it in an almost bone-crushing grip. “Veronica. But you can just call me Vi.”

“Vi,” I repeat. “Nice to meet you.”

She sighs, leaning back in the chair. “Will be nicer once this whole racket is done and over with. I never asked to be here, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Neither did I,” I admit. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Got caught fighting one too many times, and where I’m from, they don’t take kindly to girls fighting. Or doing anything other than being good little baby factories, apparently.” She rolls her eyes. “Stupid podunk planet. Glad I’m going to be getting away from there, at least.”

And here I’d thought the other planets were more progressive, not less. A momentary stab of fear strikes through me. What if the alien I’m matched with is an arrogant misogynist? How does their race feel about women and about childbearing in general? Am I walking right into the lion’s den by doing this?

“On my planet, if you don’t obey you get sent to institutional centers for ‘reprogramming.’” She shivers, even her steely facade broken. “I wasn’t about to do that, so they gave me one last chance to prove myself.” A sad, resigned chuckle. “So here I am. I’d rather bang an alien than get my brain wiped any day.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes as I think about everything that’s happened. Vi seems crude and confident. More so than I could ever be. But despite it all, I feel a kinship with her for reasons I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because we’re both here essentially against our will, but I feel like she’s someone I can trust.

And when the time comes, I could use some brawn on my side to get off the planet.

“You want something to drink?” Vi nods to the outdated water cooler over in the corner. “Who knows how long they’re gonna keep us here?”

“Sure,” I mutter, still staring off into space.

When Vi pushes a cup of water into my hands, she raises hers in a mock toast. “For the greater good,” she says with no small amount of sarcasm.

I snort and tap her glass with mine. “For the greater good.”

Whatever that means.

OATH TO THE GODS

ULFAR

To be honest, I never thought it would happen to me. Finding surrogates and even heart-mates was something that happened to other people. Not me.

That suited me just fine, though. I was content to watch my comrades match with beautiful human women and fall head over heels in love. I always said I would never lose my head over the whole alpha/omega thing the way the others seemed to. I knew how to keep my cool and get the job done.

And then I got a last-minute match from the Intergalactic Surrogacy Agency and everything turned upside down.

I’m pacing the luxurious cottage they’ve assigned me to, running a hand through my beard and trying to slow the racing of my heart. I’m more jittery than on my first raid, and for what? A human woman?

The entire day’s been an endless parade of nerves, if I’m being honest. I woke up with a knot in my stomach and threw myself straight into training, hoping to keep the butterflies at bay. Even the grueling workout couldn’t stop the buzzing in my mind, and I barely had enough time to bathe and change clothes before setting off for the facility.

They’d assigned me a translator, a cabin number, and two comms we could use to contact one another or the center. And now I’m here, waiting for my match to arrive.

I’ve spent my life in the military. I know how to handle myself. I can fight. I can fuck. So why am I so worried?

Maybe because she could be the one.

A little voice in my heart echoes through the silence. It’s a small, foolish speck of hope with no basis in reality, but it won’t go away. I try to base my decisions on rationality and logic, but love? Relationships? Finding a heart-mate, even? There’s never any clear answer, and that makes me nervous.

But when I read her profile and saw that we were a 99% genetic match, something inside me wondered if this was a sign from the gods, after all. That it’s finally my turn for a happily ever after.

“Foolish,” I mutter aloud. “Delusional and unrealistic!”

The sound of the door hissing open startles my distracted fight-or-flight response, and I whirl toward the opening, drawing my weapon, when I see...

Her.

Oh, dust.

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