I signed the mail-order contract for a bride who would let me breed this remote colony into a permanent claim, but nothing in the debt terms prepared me for the way Willa Ellery steps off the transport with quiet determination that makes the transaction feel like a trap.

Her body is mine under the agreement, the only way to discharge the loan and secure the land grant before the rivals can expose the flaws and send us both back into isolation.

The door locks behind us in the narrow corridor and the red numerals keep counting down. The contract buys her body and the land grant and nothing more than that. I want the rest, and the debt terms have no clause for it.