“If neither one of us trusts him, what the fuck are we talking about?” I was running again. I was at least thirty minutes from the boundary of Styx territory. Officially, the docks were neutral ground, but I didn’t want to talk about the work we’d done for Dr. Helion or the Coalition Fleet’s Intelligence Core anywhere outside the safety of Styx legion’s protected meeting spaces where our technology—and our well-armed guards—kept things private.

“Cormac, brother, stop moving and hear what I am telling you.”

I did as he commanded. Always. Styx was the only living soul who had my complete and total loyalty. He’d fucking earned it.

My feet stilled. I took a deep breath. Gods be damned. This was insane. Had to be a cruel joke. “I am listening.”

Styx sighed. “You, Cormac of Styx legion, have been matched to a female with a ninety-eight percent compatibility rating. She’s yours, your perfect match. She is your mate, an Interstellar Bride. As we speak, she is being transported from Earth—”

“She is human?” Styx’s mate was human. Harper. An excellent female. I felt the first stirrings of hope and hated the feeling immediately, shoving it back down.

“Yes. And right now, she is in the middle of transport. She will arrive at TSZ in the next few hours. And if you aren’t there to claim her—”

“Fuck.” TSZ was short for Transport Station Zenith, a Coalition-controlled space station frequented by every type of criminal, killer and scum out here on the edges of space, including members of the other legions—our enemies. They would love to get their hands on a female from Styx legion, doubly so if she were mine. I had made many enemies over the years.

“Exactly. Get back here. I have them fueling my ship in our private dock. Fastest thing we’ve got. It will be ready when you arrive.”

“I am on my way.” I would need to fly directly to the station. Rogue 5’s legions had made navigating the labyrinth of asteroids, space mines and gravity wells impossible for outsiders. The natural energy fields surrounding Hyperion and the moon base we lived on made using transport impossible. The only way in or out of Rogue 5’s solar system was to fly.

I looked down at myself. I was covered in dust and grime, armed to the teeth with dark hunting paste covering my face and neck in a pattern I’d learned years ago that confused the eye. I’d been hunting. Now, with my new mate in danger, I didn’t have time to clean up and look like a prince when I greeted her.

My mate. How was this possible? But my brother would not lie to me. Ever. And never about something as sacred as a mate.