Funny considering they were complete strangers.
I followed the pulsing light in my chest, a beacon much like a tracking system attached to an enemy vessel.
It was a part of my military training many others had failed.
Not every species assimilated by the Shadow shared their fated mate bond.
But the Qyah were one of them.
We were born linked to a creature somewhere in the galaxy, much the same as a natural-born Shadow.
And still, as I was not a native Shadow, I was regarded as a second-class citizen.
My fated mate was my ticket to first class.
I would be provided with better living accommodation and access to my mate anytime I wished.
I had crossed half the galaxy and crossed into an adjacent dimension to reach her.
My fated mate.
And once I had her, I would take her back to the Citadel.
There, she would be bred, claimed first by me, and then taken by other members of the Shadow Empire.
She would be used to breed more Shadows, making the Empire ever stronger.
It was a duty and an honor, and every fated mate should be pleased to carry it out.
There was only one wrinkle, and that was my opposite, birthed in this galaxy.
He was my twin but in all the ways I was dark, he was light.
Some say we shared a common ancestor and, unable to overcome the warring halves of their psyche, were forced to split in half.
One half in the light, the other in the dark.
The M’rora resided in this galaxy and we hunted for the same fated mate.
His mission was similar to mine, only he would take her back to his Citadel and exclusively mate with her in a ceremony called a “wedding.”
It was my job to ensure that didn’t happen.
I turned a corner and drew up to a large building with glass walls and a sloped dome roof.
Light classical music drifted out from the door as it swung back and forth.
Soft light blossomed from inside, making it look very appealing.
I checked the streets, looking for the enemy I knew was either there already or soon would be.
Content he wasn’t watching me, I shoved the door open and stepped inside.
I scanned the room, peering at each face one by one, searching for any sign of my M’rora twin.
Only once I was certain the coast was clear, did I find her.
She sat with her friend at a nearby table.
They both looked over at me, and that pulse in the center of my chest quickened along with the throbbing rhythm of my heart.
I raised a hand and placed it on the front breast pocket of my jacket.
I’d performed the movement so many times over the years that it happened unconsciously.
I relaxed and felt at ease, drawing from that little item in my pocket.
Peering into her eyes, I sensed I could see into her very soul.
My body shivered, quivering with curiosity.
Despite the training we received, you could never really know what this moment would feel like until you came face to face with it.
I approached an empty table, sat down, and continued staring at her.
Objectively speaking, she was pretty enough, with long brown hair and big eyes the irises of which glinted the color of remnark dark wood.
Her skin was pale and she wore a comfortable-looking but unflattering item of clothing that concealed whatever figure she may have underneath it.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and raw, her hair disheveled and dirty.
Not exactly the first impression I wished to have of my fated mate.
But her appearance was of little consequence.
The only thing that mattered was her ability to reproduce.
I approached the counter to buy a cup of coffee.
The hot drink smelled good, vaguely reminding me of squirnatch dirt after it’d been soaked in jirax blood.
That marked the successful assimilation of another alien species into the Shadow’s fold.
But that time, I had been part of the attacking force.
Few could stand against the Shadow.
In fact, it was only our twins, the M’rora who could.
They were as strong as us but with our vigorous breeding programs, we would soon tip the balance of power in our favor and dominate not just our universe, but theirs too.
I peered at the menu above the counter.
The translation device embedded in my arm turned the words into meaning.
Someone coughed, clearing their throat behind me.
Disgusting species.
Why my fated mate had to be one of them, I would never understand.
There were far better species for providing strong offspring.
But the bond was an unknown thing and we obeyed it with every breath in our bodies.
The person behind me cleared their throat again and I turned to glare at them.
My expression froze as I took in my fated mate up close.
I blinked in surprise, at her having crept up on me without me noticing.
My mind had wandered again.
I needed to stay focused, otherwise the M’rora could end up sneaking up on me just as easily.
My fated mate gnawed at her bottom lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Um, hi.”
It suddenly struck me how inefficient our training had been.
We trained to track down our mates but we had very little training when it came to interacting with them.
Perhaps it had been done on purpose.
Developing an emotional connection with the breeder was frowned upon and not encouraged.
“Hi,” I said back to her.
“You’re soaked. If you ask the workers, they might have a towel to give you.”
I peered at my clothes.
I’d forgotten about that.
“Thank you. I will.”
My mate glanced in either direction, searching for something to talk about.
“Do you, uh, come here often?”
“This is my first time.”
She nodded and peered over her shoulder at her friend.
The friend nodded and waved a hand for her to continue.
Were they playing some kind of game on me? I wondered.
My senses went on high alert.
The instant they did, her scent struck me full in the face.
It was a powerful scent that crept over me now, taking control of my reason.
I shook my head of its claws and focused on her.
“Are you meeting someone here?” she said.
“In a way, yes.”
Her shoulders slumped a little and she
