PREORDER of Chosen by Chigs (Coming January 30, 2024)

Betrayed by her ex-fiancé's dark alliance with Syndicorp, Emmy vowed to never let her heart be vulnerable again. Now, she uses her skills as a psychologist to aid the rebel cause, vowing to bring the corrupt regime to its knees. But everything changes when Chigs, a towering Denaidan gunner, enters her life, seeking her expertise for a dream he believes holds the key to the location of Syndicorp's secret lab.

Chigs, with his belief in fated mates, is on the brink of destiny. He's convinced that within the Syndicorp lab, his destined mate awaits. Teaming up with Emmy to uncover the truth, they devise a plan that requires them to play the part of starry-eyed newlyweds. But as lines blur between pretense and genuine passion, Chigs grapples with a war within—a war between his duty to destiny and the pull of his heart.

Trapped in a spiral of simmering desires, covert operations, and revelations, Emmy and Chigs must decide if their burgeoning love can coexist with destiny. Dive into a galaxy where fate collides with choice, and love might just be the most powerful weapon against darkness.

Devastation and decay surrounded Chigs, the remnants of a city lost in time. Ahead of him, a dusty road faded into mist. His gorge rose in dreadful anticipation. He didn't want to be here. Didn’t want to see this nightmare again. Yet his body felt numb as he glided forward on unmoving legs, the insistent breeze nudging him along until the road transformed into a long corridor with metal floors and pale, sterile walls. Rows of translucent, pod-like chambers caged him on either side. Harsh lighting glinted off the pods, hiding the contents, but he already knew what lay within.

His hearts pounded like twin fists in his chest, his mouth dry as sand as he helplessly approached to peer into the nearest one. The motionless coppery body, perfect breasts, and curved hips of the Denaidan female rested inside. Tubes and wires coiled around her like malevolent sea creatures. Her eyes stared back at him with accusation. 

He wanted to help her. To free her. But his movements weren't his own. He moved to the next pod and the next, each one holding another female. Some resembled his mother, his aunt, his cousins, all long dead; lost in the destruction of his planet.

Through the mist, a familiar feminine voice whispered his name, the sound caressing his senses like a lover's touch. He spun, searching for the source. So many pods. How was he supposed to find her? Yearning and anguish warred within him as he moved down the rows.

A bark of hoarse, male laughter echoed through the room, harsh and grating. Rage burning in his gut like molten lead, Chigs whirled.

"You're dead!" Chigs bellowed, voice booming off the sterile walls. Although Chigs had never met Dr. Dollard in person, he knew that's who the laughter belonged to—the scientist responsible for the atrocities committed against his people. 

"She's not here," the voice cackled, mocking. "Not here..." 

Chigs woke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. Dollard's laughter still rang in his ears as Chigs swung his legs off the edge of the bed and sat blinking to clear his vision. His quarters held the familiar scents of oil and steel, a sharp contrast to the antiseptic stench of the lab from his dream. He dragged a hand over his face and down his beard.

The dream had been the same for the past three nights. Why did the lab feel so familiar? It wasn’t the lab from the raid, but he felt like he’d been there before. Although the dream's details were already fuzzing around the edges, the horror of the translucent pods and the women imprisoned within them continued to sting like razor cuts to his soul.

He rose and paced his spacious quarters on board the Icarus, bare feet sinking into the pale, soft carpet. He’d never had such lush accommodations in his life, but there were enough officers’ quarters on board for each rebel to have their own suite. The captured flagship had become a floating base for the entire rebellion in a matter of lunar cycles. The ship’s advanced technology, size, and weaponry had allowed the rebellion to gain a cohesiveness they hadn’t experienced before, and they’d executed several successful raids on Syndicorp facilities in the past few weeks.

But their biggest coup had happened a few lunar cycles earlier, with the rescue of Mek’s new mate, Rashana after Dollard had abducted her. In the Syndicorp lab where he’d held her prisoner, they’d recovered almost a dozen cryopods, each keeping a Denaidan female in stasis. The discovery should've brought hope to Chigs’s race, who'd believed their females extinct after Syndicorp had exterminated all life on their home planet.

Unfortunately, the females in the cryopods turned out to be brain-dead husks used for Dollard's sickening breeding experiments.

"That evil qumli's dead," Chigs muttered out loud, glancing into the large mirror on the far wall as if seeking confirmation from himself. His copper-skinned face was haggard, the whites of his eyes bloodshot with blue veins from lack of sleep.

Was Dollard actually dead? Rust hadn’t been able to find a body. During the most recent raid, Dollard had been swept into the vacuum of space without a suit. No ordinary human could've survived, but Dollard’s twisted experiments might have granted him unnatural resilience. The human had already overcome death once. Could he do it again?

Shaking his head, Chigs resumed pacing. Regardless of whether Dollard was dead or alive, the raid on his lab hadn’t been a complete success. Several shuttles had escaped, presumably carrying cryopods and more Denaidan females with them—females who could still be alive. 

Not for long if someone continues Dollard’s experiments.

Chigs cursed, slamming a fist into the wall. The polymer panel dented under the blow, and pain lanced up his arm. But physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish of knowing there were more females to save, and he was powerless to help them. Was he doomed to hear that voice in his dreams for the rest of his life? She felt so real, like they were connected. He almost felt—

Chigs froze mid-pace, hearts pounding. What if the dream was real? A divine calling? What if Ellam Cua was showing him the lab so he could mount a rescue? The female voice calling his name floated through his head once more like a song barely heard on a breeze. My mate.

It had to be.

Only mate bonds allowed couples to communicate through thoughts. And now there was a female in that lab calling out to him. She was meant to be his, just as he was meant to be her savior. The realization felt like a star going nova, staggering in its implications.

But how was he supposed to find her? He needed more clues. Coordinates. A map. Anything!

Chigs closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Ellam Cua, I don't understand. Please. Show me the path to my mate.” 

Silence filled his quarters. No booming voice came down to give him divine orders. But after a long moment, his mind conjured the image of liquid brown eyes that softened into a smooth pale face with round cheeks and a gentle smile. 

Emmy?

Chigs frowned. The human female had joined the rebellion almost a cycle ago, but he'd never paid her much mind. She was small and easy to overlook, even for her species. But he knew crew members sometimes sought her out to speak of personal troubles or ask advice. Now he wondered... could she be some kind of spiritual guide? 

The more he considered it, the more certain he became. Was it possible that Ellam Cua wanted him to seek Emmy out and ask for her help interpreting the dream? Maybe she would show him the path to his mate.

Chigs smiled as determination burned away his earlier helplessness. Syndicorp would soon regret the day they'd dared to cross a Denaidan on a mission for his mate. He’d find the lab. Rescue his mate and the other women. And burn Dollard and any of his remaining experiments to dust.