King Greum raised his arms. “My people, I have summoned you today, because there might be a way for us to survive as a race.”

Someone yelled, “How can this be? Our women and daughters are dead. No one can replace them!”

Greum lowered his hands. “Listen, please. The Fates have spoken to my lovely mate.”

Damon gritted his teeth, his throat tensing tighter and tighter. She was the object of his desire.

Gasps and mumblings filled the chapel as the queen, Cosima, approached the king.

The sunlight shone through Angarth Citadel’s stained glass window and flickered off Cosmia’s tiara, making her look like she had a halo around her. Her big green eyes shimmered as bright as the emeralds in her crown. Her silky blond hair flowed over her slender shoulders, and he ached to run his fingers through those silky strands.

But she belonged to the King. Greum was in sharp contrast to her with his black hair and brooding face. He was the most powerful dragon on Zalara, and any attempt to seduce his mate would mean a certain painful death.

“Do not despair. There is still hope for us. Listen.” Cosima motioned toward the bubbling pool. The slight motion made her white glossy gown glimmer, reminding Damon of a sparkling star. “I bring us hope. True, our beautiful women are gone, but the Fates have shown me that the Earth women are compatible. We may still survive as a race. However, the process of finding a mate is a difficult one. The Fates must choose them, because only the chosen ones can mate with us. Their destinies must align.”

She took Greum’s hand and gave him a loving glance. Damon tensed as old jealousies tightened his skin. He wanted to be the one to receive those adoring glances. He gripped the pew in front of him so hard it cracked.

His best friend, Anonghos, the chief security of the Orion, cast him a warning look. Damon immediately stuck his hands at his side, clenching his fists.

The queen led the king toward the baptismal pool, and together, they knelt in front of it. A large stained glass window of two dragons winding around each other was at the back of the altar. He wished he was the one at her side, but she was in love with the king. His only recourse was to be her personal guard, so he could look at her every day and protect her with his life.

Suddenly, the pool bubbled softly.

Cosmia kissed Greum’s hand. “A mate has been chosen.”

Damon hissed louder than a pissed off slake.

Anonghos elbowed him in the ribs. “Control yourself, or Greum will rip you to pieces.”

He was right. Greum was extremely possessive of Cosima and wouldn’t take kindly to knowing her personal guard was secretly lusting over her.

Cosmia turned to the congregation. “We will soon learn who will be the first person to save our race.”

Damon thought the queen was looking at him. Every muscle tensed inside him, his anger twisting and twisting them into threadbare cords. It better not be him. He had no intention of mating with some damn alien. His heart lay with Cosima, and no Earthling would change his devotion.

Out of the pool rose three ghostly women dressed in white robes. They were the original mothers of their race and had been the last female shape-shifters. When they’d perished, the gods had granted them sight-seeing powers. Only when there was a great need could they be called upon.

Obviously, all the women being slaughtered met that urgency.

But what good were the Fates? They’d been useless against the Kamitrinians’ deadly weapon.

“Greetings, King Greum and Queen Cosima,” Rillo, the smaller of the two, bowed slightly.

Although she was the smallest, she was the most powerful. Her dark eyes sparkled, and Damon winced at the brightness of her white robe.

The king and queen bowed. “Greetings,” they both answered.

“We have found an Earthly mate worthy of a Zalarain.” She gestured toward the voluptuous redhead. “Ythei, the Mate stone, please.”

Ythei opened her palm, and a simple, shiny, smooth white stone appeared. “I call forth Damon of the Royal Guard.”

Shock cut into his heart, sharp as a laser. Damon grimaced. No, no, no, this couldn’t be right. The Fates had to be wrong!

A loud gasp echoed around him.

Anonghos gripped his tense shoulder. “Don’t make them mad, Damon. Go.”

Damon reluctantly left the pew and slowly dragged his feet to the altar. He avoided Cosima, who looked at him with pity. She knew how he felt and had told him more than once he needed to find another. She belonged to Greum, and he was her soulmate.

Rillo smiled. “Be glad, guard. You will be the first to give hope to your people.”

Damon bit his tongue to keep from arguing. Defying a Fate warranted death. But although his heart lay with the queen, he would not betray his people. Mated didn’t equal love.

“Stretch out your hand,” Rillo said.

He forced himself to obey. Ythei dropped the smooth stone into his hand, and immediately, a surge of energy torpedoed up his arm to his wary heart. He shook uncontrollably as if a jackhammer had fallen down his pants. An image of a redheaded woman with brown eyes formed in his mind. Unlike Cosima, strands of her hair fell out of a tight bun, and she had stains on what looked like some kind of uniform. Just as suddenly as it formed, the image vanished.

He stopped shaking but was left with bitter disappointment. How could he mate with such a disheveled female when he adored the gift of perfection on the altar?

Rillo put her hand on his chest. “You will go with Captain Taog and the crew on the Orion to fetch your mate.”

Scorching heat shot through him, hotter than dragon fire. Sweat soaked his skin, and passion fever melted his stubborn heart. His dragon was aroused and demanded its mate.

When she lowered her hand, it was gone.

“It shall be done.” Greum put his firm hand on Damon’s shoulder.

He hung his head, knowing love would always be out of his grasp, and now, he would be saddled with a mate he hadn’t chosen and hadn’t wanted.