Helen, Planet Everis, the Touchstone

      I entered the beautiful garden, my knees weak. I followed the path as instructed and found the beautiful white stone bench exactly where he’d promised: next to a bubbling fountain and surrounded by flowers. Their sweet scent filled the air, and I felt like I was living in a fairy tale.

      The most unusual fairy tale that involved a little Star Trek and a strange bit of palm tingling.

      Why? This wasn’t a garden in the Virginia town I grew up in. No, I volunteered to be an Interstellar Bride and traveled light years across the galaxy to meet him, my one true match. My mate. My Marked Mate. I ran my fingers over my palm where my birthmark—no, my mark—pulsed and almost burned in reminder that he was near.

      After the transport and the meetings, visiting with the other women who’d arrived at the Touchstone to find their mate, I still didn’t have any answers. But as I stared at the thick strip of black silk draped with such care over the bench, I dared to hope. Hope that he would understand. Hope that he would know exactly what I needed. Had Warden Egara—the woman who’d conducted the testing at the center in Miami—been correct and the Brides Program’s test had tapped into my subconscious needs? Things I wanted and could never say aloud? They were too…dark, too embarrassing.

      I lifted the black silk into my hands, felt the cool slide of the material, and I was shocked to discover that my fingers shook. My heart pounded, fluttered so fast. I couldn’t count the beats, could barely breathe. This was it.

      The moment.

      What I held in my hand was everything I wanted. Strange, it being a blindfold, but he’d promised me in the dream if I put it on, he’d give me the world. No, the entire galaxy. Insane, doing what a man in a dream had told me, but it was him.

      I’d been told only Marked Mates would dream share. Only Marked Mates would have the marks on their palms awaken. That it was a true gift because only a small number found their other half.

      I had. A woman from Earth who somehow was an Everian descendent. The mark on my palm proved it. The other women gave me looks of envy that my mark had awakened so quickly, that he was close. Here.

      I bit my lip, tried to stifle the nervous smile that turned my lips.

      Unable to stand for another moment, I turned and sat down on the bench. The chill of the stone reached through the diaphanous white gown I wore. But even the cold was not enough to shock me from my nervous anticipation of what was to come. No, of who was to come.

      On Earth, I was considered a broken woman. Strange. Caught in the past even. Especially in the city where I was raised, where women wore power suits, three-inch heels, and college degrees like badges of honor. I was supposed to be confident, aggressive, demanding. I was supposed to want true equality between the sexes. Demand it. But I wanted none of those things. The truth of the matter was I spent most of my life feeling afraid, vulnerable, and weak. I didn’t want