Prologue
I cried my eyes out when I started my period. That was it. I was someone’s Reciprocal, and my fate was no longer mine to decide...
That was 8 years ago, when I was 13. I had cried and begged my mom not to tell anyone. I didn’t want my fate decided by some strangers in a lab, and I had zero interest in being some strange guy’s brood mare.
I’m 21 now, and nothing has changed. I’ve managed to conceal the fact that I’m fertile for this long, so why change anything now? I still have no interest in becoming a Reciprocal.
Reciprocals are a genetically matched pair of fertile individuals who are ideal for each other in every way. After the End Plague almost wiped out humanity 100 years ago, Reciprocals have been all that stand between humanity and extinction.
For some unknown reason, those who survived the End Plague came out of it sterile. It was originally thought that it would just be those initial survivors who couldn’t reproduce...but then even the test tube babies began growing up to be infertile. There’s no guarantee that even Reciprocals will have fertile children. The statistics are something like one in one-hundred women are fertile. Men rate about one in fifty.
When a baby is born, a DNA sample is taken immediately and stored. Males give sperm samples at the age of 18, and women wait to see if they begin to menstruate...then they’re matched together.
I know that a ton of girls would love to be treated like a queen, fawned over and taken care of by the community...and I couldn’t deny that all of the Reciprocals I’d ever met or seen seemed blissfully happy together, perfect for each other, even...but that just wasn’t for me. I just wanted to live my life, get through law school, and maybe someday marry my boyfriend, Mark.
I smiled as I thought of his kind eyes and sexy smile. It was New Years Eve, and he was currently grinning over at me from where he stood with his friends at the party we were attending. He was adorable, and I gave him a flirty little smile and a finger wave. He was perfect for me.
I was in love with him...at least, I was pretty sure I was. He was sweet and kind, and he was fun to be with. I sure as hell hadn’t needed genetic matching to find him. We’d grown up together in our little community, but it wasn’t until college that our relationship had become anything more than just a casual friendship.
All the more reason to keep my secret. The last thing I needed was to be carted off and matched with some stranger. I couldn’t imagine my touch burning my sweet Mark. The thought made me shudder. It was painful to think about.
Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that as an added bonus, Reciprocals can only touch their match. They’ll physically burn anyone else they touch with sexual intent or physical attraction after they’ve been matched. I don’t know for sure, but I feel like it’s that way to be sure the bonded pair have to sleep together, or else.
So here’s to another year of college, another year with Mark...another year of protecting my secret in order to remain in control of my life.
Cheers.
