She didn't sign up for some alien mail-order-bride thing, but she fell for the alien anyway. Trouble is, she fell for the wrong one… Emily Evans was a social worker, not a princess. She sorted donated coats, broke up fights over bunks, and went home to a grumpy cat. Then her mother forged her signature on a contract with the Latharian Mate Program, and Emily didn't just get matched, she got matched to the Emperor himself. The most powerful man in the known galaxy. And not one person gave a damn that she hadn't been asked... He was sworn to protect her. Not to want her. Raaevik K'Vass had one job: guard the Emperor's future mate. Shadow her. Sleep outside her door. Keep her alive. He was not supposed to notice the way she looked at him like he was the only solid thing in her world. He was not supposed to feel the word mine thunder through his blood every time she turned those beautiful, dark eyes on him. But the Emperor trusted him, and Raaevik would rather die than betray that trust. The problem was, dying might be easier. Then Purists took her. Raaevik stopped being a warrior and started being a problem…