“No. I feel a little sick.” A flock of butterflies entered the kitchen and swirled around her head.

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  “What are they doing?”

  “Feeding on your despair and trying to make you feel better.” He pulled her up by her arms. “I just told you that you are free and you are crying.”

  “I don’t belong here. Since I volunteered to leave Earth, I have belonged somewhere. You just cut my strings.”

  “I don’t understand the reference.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. His gaze was too much for her. “You have stripped away my robes and left me naked in a snowstorm.”

  He pulled her to him and wrapped her in his arms. “I haven’t left you anywhere. I am here with you.”

  “If I am not a matchmaker or an enforcer, what am I?”

  “You can still be a matchmaker. I want you to do whatever makes you happy.” He paused, rocking her gently in his arms. “And I want you to do me whenever possible.”

  She hiccupped with laughter. “I am still rather sore from our first joining. Even my accelerating healing won’t let you in for a few days.”

  “I thought as much, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

  He kept rocking her until the smell of cooking fowl filled the kitchen. “I had better get going on the tubers. Will you help me?”

  She nodded. “Why not?”

  They worked together, peeling and chopping.

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  The veggies joined the meat in the oven and then Gwen and Etien cleaned up the prep. “It will be an hour or so before it is all ready.”

  She stretched and smiled. “Time for the news then.”

  “You go ahead. I will put away the rest of these groceries. I know where they go.”

  Gwen wandered into her living room and turned on the monitor. The snowstorm in the mountains had locked in most of the Oefric enclave. It was providing Tomas and Wellia with a honeymoon they hadn’t scheduled. Oefric usually mated, had the party and got back to life.

  Life. Gwen put her slippered feet on the coffee table and pondered what Etien had said. She was free. She didn’t have to be a matchmaker to make her living. She could figure out whatever she wanted and become that. She didn’t have to wear the uniform anymore unless she was operating in a formal function.

  That thought gave her a spurt of joy. She could wear jeans again. Sneakers. Jewellery. This wasn’t too bad after all. So quietly she didn’t think she had said it too loud, she whispered, “I can be me again.”

  Strong arms wrapped her from behind the couch and she felt him nuzzling her neck. “You can be whatever you want to be. I look forward to getting to know the real you.”

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  She drew her fingers over his forearm, enjoying the feel of the muscle under her fingertips. “So do I. I have not been myself for a very long time.”

  “Then why not start tonight?”

  “Right. Wait here.”

  She skittered up the stairs and dug out her private stash of Terran clothing. Jeans and a t-shirt with socks and sneakers. They were improperly snug given the races on Raxos, but this was time to be herself.

  She came bouncing down the stairs with her hair in a ponytail, her Terran finery comforting against her skin.

  “That is…wow.”

  “Terran casual wear. Comfortable and sturdy.”

  She turned on her toes. “Now, I just need to dig out my watch and earrings and my becoming me outwardly will be complete.”

  He reached out to touch her clothing, rubbing the jersey of her t-shirt in his fingers before stroking down her breasts, “What is under here?”

  “A bra. A breast support that keeps them where they are supposed to be.”

  He cupped her breasts and his fingers seemed to analyze the lace. “In my hands?”

  “No playing today.” She batted at his hands.

  He grabbed the belt loops on her jeans and pulled her hips to his. “These I like.”

  “Isn’t the food ready?”

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  Etien laughed. “Yes. Yes, it is. Come along. We will eat, clean up and then I will shift into something that doesn’t want to fuck you senseless.”

  “That sounds surprisingly nice.”

  He hauled her backward into the kitchen using her jeans as a handle. He served them dinner, chatted about his day and she learned that Raxos was more than just a colony world. They were a testing ground for a variety of plants and animals for other colonies around the Alliance. The multiple races were needed to test the foods, clothing and vehicles on for comfort and compatibility. It was a living lab.

  “So, when you agreed to come back home?”

  “I was agreeing to fling my genes into the mix.

  Fate has chosen you as the recipient of my flinging.”

  He was also a wonderful cook. The light hand with the spices was just enough to compliment the delicate flavours of the vegetables and the fowl.

  “Fate chose me?”

  “It has to be fate. Oefrics know their true mates.

  Just scenting one’s true mate heats the blood, stirs the loins and softens the heart, so they say. I have found that it also makes me want to protect you with fang, claw, hand and head.” He removed her fork from her limp hand and lifted her fingers.

  “Such delicate hands to hold such power over me.”

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  “I don’t want power. All I have ever wanted—”

  “Is to be wanted yourself. I know.”

  “Is that in my file somewhere?”

  “No. It is in you. All of you. It’s why the butterflies are still here. You don’t want me to want the person that you showed to the worlds.

  You wanted me to want the woman within.”

  She blushed as he nibbled at her fingertips.

  “I thought you weren’t going to come here for dinner today?”

  “I closed the session early when I realized that you would be foraging for minimal foodstuffs.”

  Gwen smiled. What he had said was true, he was trying to protect her. Even from her lack of grocery shopping. That had to count for something.

  They cleared and washed the dishes and then returned to her living room. Gwen watched with avid eyes as he stripped while she tried not to stare at the planes and bulges of muscle that were exposed with every removed piece of fabric. He let her stare for a few seconds when he was completely nude, his cock rising at the attention and then he knelt on all fours and became the great grey wolf.

  She sat on the couch and watched news and romantic movies while stroking his ears and rubbing his belly. It was a good night and as a first date, it was amazing.

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  She tried to ease out from under his massive sleeping head, but was stopped by a growl.

  “Knock it off, Etien. I need to get some nice restful sleep. You can come along if you like, but no drooling on the covers.”

  She led up and into her bedroom, stripped off her clothing and completely naked, she crawled into bed next to her great grey wolf.

  When she woke in the morning, the wolf, the man, his clothing was all gone. All that was left was a note on her kitchen table.

  I will see you at sundown. Dress nice, no uniforms, but something slinky.

  Love, Etien

  p.s. I have drawn a suggestion from your closet.

  Please consider it and I will give you a present.

  Bemused, she entered her closet and saw the gown hanging on its own across the top of the other clothing. Made of l’nal silk, it would definitely be a showstopper with its one slit up her left thigh.

  Now. Where did she put the matching shoes?

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  Chapter Eight

  er newest client was an Oefric male who was H trembling with eagerness to be matched.

  “Few of your race have wanted to engage in matchmaking, Nishka. Why are you here?”

  He grinned and sipped at the tea. “When I saw you with Alpha Mathijen I knew that you were something more than the average matchmaker.”

  “Alpha Mathijen? You mean Etien? Oh.” So, it was Etien’s slumming that had caused her sudden surge in popularity.

  “Yes. He has searched long and hard for his true mate and if he has chosen you, then you are a very exceptional woman.” Nishka Althon executed a sitting bow that was surprisingly graceful. “I am willing to put myself in your hands and I trust you to find the match that will be my true mate.”

  She blinked and went back to her professional patter. “Wonderful. Well, let’s begin then.”

  It took four hours of scanning his mind, but eventually, she had a grasp on his template that would enable her to match him completely. She 65

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  gave him a polite handshake as she escorted him to the door. Her butterflies were in fine form this morning, surrounding her the moment she opened the door. A few of the silver wings had turned gold and were clustering on her porch in twos and threes.

  “As soon as I find a match for you, I will contact you. There are a few candidates, but I will need to run through them in silent meditation. Nishka, enjoy your day.”

  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left on his solo cycle.

  She sighed heavily and returned to her office, tidying up and trying to match Nishka with one of the other clients in her mental vault. There were three possible matches but none was exact.

  A knock on her office door brought her out of her assessment.

  The young woman standing at her door had the same lavender-grey skin as Wellia. She looked from side to side as if she was afraid of being seen.

  “Matchmaker? May I speak with you?”

  Gwen opened her door and let the young woman in. “Please, be comfortable. Tea?”

  “Thank you. I am sorry to have just barged in on you, but my family isn’t in favour of using a talent to find a match. They are hooked on the idea of love at first sight.”

  Understanding dawned—the woman was a 66

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  pragmatic in a romantic family. “I have some time before I need to be going. Tell me about yourself.

  Start with your name.”

  Against protocol, Gwen started to analyse the woman’s template. It glowed with intelligence and energy.

  “Carrel Knensi, of the bio-design clan. I saw how happy Wellia was, even with a mate outside our species. If there is a chance for me to be that happy, I will sneak around behind my clan’s back as long as need be.”

  Gwen served her tea while running through the male templates that were in her mind. She stifled a smirk. This woman’s ideal match had been at the same wedding, but because they were of difference social classes, they had never met.

  She never knew how to tell someone that she had just met that she knew who her soul mate was.

  “Carrel, I am going to ask you some questions.”

  “Yes, Matchmaker Steryio, whatever you need.”

  Her braided black locks slid as she nodded affirmative.

  “Are you wanting to become my client?”

  “I am.”

  “Press your finger to the data pad. This will not be used to identify you, merely to verify my client count.”

  The woman pressed her hand to the data pad and looked up for the next instruction.

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  “What would you say if I told you that your ideal mate was at the wedding you attended on the weekend?”

  “I find it highly unlikely that you could know it already.”

  “If he had not become a client, I would not have.

  Now that you are a client, I have taken a psychic template of your likes, dislikes and personality traits. I have the man who will compliment you on a multitude of levels.”

  “You don’t know anything about me yet.”

  Gwen smiled and started to list the things that she did know. Her favourite flowers, she was seventeen when she lost her virginity, she wanted a man who had his own life, his own friends, but who loved her despite her workaholic tendencies.

  When she finished her little speech, Carrel’s mouth was hanging open. “You know all that without—”

  “Without asking you questions? Yes. It is the same way that I know the man for you wants a woman who will not cling, but who will be energized by the joining.”

  Carrel was sitting forward, cupping her tea with enthusiasm. “And he is right for me?”

  “It is a ninety-nine percent match. Making a go of it is up to you. Are you willing to meet him?”

  “I am. How soon can it be arranged?” Her eagerness was palpable.

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  “I can arrange a meeting now. I know that he is in town this afternoon. It will be a first introduction here in my home. Are you willing?”

  “Here? Now?” She immediately started fiddling with her braids.

  “Yes. I will call him, introduce you and then leave you two to get to know each other. After one hour, I will kick you out and if you choose to pursue an evening together, it is none of my affair.” She winked.

  Carrel paused. “Yes. Call him.”

  Smiling, Gwen went into her private com centre and made the call. The sounds of the street were in the background. “Nishka, this is Matchmaker Steryio.”

  “Yes, what can I do for you?”

  “I have a match for you.”

  “So soon?”

  “She is here waiting if you wish for a face-to-face meeting.”

  “I will be there in ten minutes.”

  “Excellent. Simply come in through the office door.” She disconnected the call and returned the anxious Carrel. “He will be here in ten. Would you care to help me arrange some snacks?”

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  before Carrel could drop it when she first saw Nishka.

  His cheeks were flushed and when he looked into Carrel’s face a soul-deep recognition sparked from inside him. Gwen looked to Carrel and she had the same dumbstruck look in her eyes.

  “Nishka, this is Carrel. Carrel, this is Nishka.

  Come along and have a seat in the parlour.” She led the way and they stumbled after her. She took the love seat forcing them to sit together on the couch. It wasn’t much of an enforcement. They touched hands with wonder and smiles bloomed.

  “If you are fine, I will be in my private quarters getting ready for my evening out. Call me if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Matchmaker. Your skills are truly…amazing.” Nishka said the last on a breathy sigh as he looked into Carrel’s eyes.

  Gwen didn’t say a thing, merely scampered up the stairs and tried to find the shoes that matched the gown. When she scored the proper shoes, she worked on her hair. She was not to appear in uniform, so it was time to get a little wild.

  She braided part of her hair and used it to cage the rest in a loose mass near the top of her head spilling into a cascade down the right shoulder.

  This left her neck bare until she put on a heavy bronze necklace and cuffs with matching earrings.

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  with the slit on the left, it created a visual cue to run across her body with every step. Midnight blue with bronze and black splashes of colour, the silk clung to her faithfully. Her shoes made her four inches taller.

  The bodice had internal wrapping to support her breasts but the rest of the gown flowed freely.

  She added light makeup and turned to view herself in the mirror. “Wow.”

  This was definitely not a covered up matchmaker formal.

  With care, she took her wrap and made her way down the stairs. Her office was still occupied. They seemed to have hit it off if Carrel’s discarded blouse was any indication.

  She cleared her throat. “Your hour of privacy is up. There are plenty of restaurants in town as well as theatres and secluded parks. You both drive solo cycles, so get yourself moving.”

  Carrel grabbed her blouse and Nishka helped her button it. “I am sorry, Matchmaker.”

  Neither of them had looked up and when Carrel did, she gasped. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you. I have a date in half an hour.”

  Nishka couldn’t seem to decide where to look.

  “With Alpha Mathijen?”

  “With Etien, yes.” She inclined her head, feeling the weight of the hair she had piled on top of it.

  “He will be proud to have you at his side.”

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  Nishka’s statement was absolute.

  A familiar voice entered the room. “I usually am. Ah, Gwen, you wore the dress.”

  She smiled at the warmth in his tone. “I did. I bought it years ago.”

  He came forward and kissed the back of her hand. “On Norithal. I remember. There were bets taken as to whether you would ever wear it. I am guessing I win.”

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  Chapter Nine

  ith the younger couple ejected, Gwen and W Etien were on their way to their date. She knew something was not quite what she had expected when the skimmer doors were opened on either side and Etien’s hand pulled her out of the car and onto the red carpet.

  “This isn’t just a date, is it, Commander?”

  “Call me Etien, or Alpha Mathijen. I don’t outrank you here. No one does. That is why I didn’t want you to wear your uniform. You are here as the singular Terran colonist on Raxos.”

 

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