6
Amanda
Grigg growled, and damn my traitor p***y, it clenched hard, closing around emptiness with an ache that wasn’t welcome.
“If you refuse the collar, any unmated male who sees you may claim the right to court you for thirty days.”
I could take care of myself, so what was the issue?
“What if I tell him no?”
Rav sighed. “You can’t, Amanda. You have been sent to us by the Interstellar Bride Program, a declared bride, a matched mate perfect for the warriors of Prillon Prime. Should you refuse us, another has the right to claim you for the thirty-day courting period. It’s too late to change your mind. Any male you refuse will simply be replaced by another, and another. Death matches will be fought. Good warriors will die for the chance to court you.
That was medieval. Stupid. “Death
