Chapter 8

Nakia:

What the actual fuck?

Humiliation burned in the pit of Nakia’s stomach. Okay, she knew she wasn’t the same person she was sixteen years ago, and Rohn clearly wasn’t the same guy. Fine. They were strangers. She’d deal. But for him to just dismiss her without even a word? No discussion, no explanation, and not even a hello.

Fuck that, and fuck Rohn Ogana if he thought he could treat her that way.

She seethed in anger during the journey to his quarters. Vaguely aware of the curious stares as other Mahdfel warriors passed them in the corridor, she kept her focus trained on the back of Rohn’s head.

He was still handsome. The iron gray hair and the gold metalwork in his horn added to his rough appeal, and that made her angrier. He transcended silver fox and went straight to gray wolf, a more dangerous and infinitely sexier state of being in her opinion.

He moved with a sleek grace that she would never be able to manage, no matter how many hours she spent in physical therapy working with her prosthesis. She might have enjoyed the view of his ass flexing as he walked if not for her anger and secret fear of not being good enough.

No one got to make her feel this way, like damaged goods. She wouldn’t tolerate such a dismissive attitude on Earth, and she wouldn’t tolerate it now. The fact that it came from someone she thought she knew, someone she counted as a friend, hurt but she’d deal.

As the door opened to a darkened room, an overhead light flickered to life. A one-room studio with a kitchenette and a counter at the far end was cluttered with discarded clothes, toolkits, cardboard boxes, machine parts, and empty dishes. An unmade bed folded out from the wall. Mounted weapons decorated the walls, mixed with posters of far-off locales. At least they weren’t posters of naked three-tittied alien chicks. Clearly a bachelor lived here. Thank goodness the room didn’t smell.

“I was unaware of your arrival,” Rohn said. He tossed the clothes littering the bed to the floor and stripped the bed sheets. From an overhead compartment, he produced what were hopefully clean linens.

“Right.” Nakia stood in the doorway, her suitcase at her feet. Rohn’s quarters wasn’t just cluttered; it spoke of a man who didn’t pick up after himself and never considered what it was like to share space with another person. There was no room for her, physically and emotionally.

“I normally sleep on a cot on the flight deck.”

That didn’t make the state of his apartment better.

“Is it my leg?” She clenched her fist, waiting for an answer and expecting the worst.

He looked at her, finally, and his eyes softened. “No.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I am more than my body,” she said, repeating words he said to her years ago.

He flinched, as if she struck him.

What if he really believed that her leg was an issue, though? That the prosthesis somehow made her less able to be a partner. The Mahdfel wanted babies, right? That was what all the anti-alien people said on the media. They just wanted to use human women as broodmares, always barefoot and pregnant, and good for nothing else.

Well, fuck. Did Rohn think that her missing leg somehow affected how her ovaries and uterus worked? Maybe she should let herself be sent to the other match, that Jaxar guy. He seemed nice enough.

She refused to accept nice enough or good enough. She had that before and it didn’t pan out. She wanted to be wanted.

Nakia rubbed the bridge of her nose, wishing the headache would go away. Everything was a mess and she shouldn’t make huge decisions when tired and, frankly, cranky.

Rohn busied himself changing the sheets on the bed. Once finished, he stood with his hands on his hips. “There. You will rest and then you will return to Earth tomorrow.”

So much hung on that moment. Her response would shape their future: either she meekly submitted and went back home, or she stayed to fight for her husband.

Rohn was her husband, but only on paper.

She was exhausted, her head had a dull throb and her stomach still felt queasy. Rohn didn’t want her. Everything from his tardiness meeting her, his harsh first words, and his reluctance to admit her to his quarters attested to this. He’d let her stay the night in his cluttered, messy room, only to send her back to Earth in the morning.

“No,” Nakia said. She strode into the apartment, head high like a queen, suitcase rolling behind her.

“This is not up for debate, female. You cannot stay here.”

“I agree. Tomorrow we’ll see about getting new accommodations suited for two people.” She put her suitcase on the bed and pulled out a toiletry bag. A funky taste lingered in her mouth.

“That is not what I meant.” Rohn ran a hand over his fragmented horn, as if in frustration. “I reek of the medical bay. I must bathe.”

He touched an access panel, which opened to reveal a cramped cleansing room. The door slid shut behind him before she could speak.

She dug out her toothbrush and waited for her turn with the cleansing room.

Rohn emerged, a towel wrapped low on his hips, and water beading on his chest. His wet hair had a just enough of a messy look that she equally wanted to run her fingers through it to totally ruin any sense or order or brush it down smoothly.

Messy. She definitely wanted messy.

His arms were thick with corded muscles and those abs made her loose rational thought. He even had that line running from his pelvis down to what the towel covered. Swirls of black ink covered his arms and shoulders. The pattern seemed too orderly to be random and must hold meaning. She wanted to ask and memorize the pattern, to trace every swirl and curve with her fingertips.

Her alien husband was gorgeous beyond belief.

He stood in front of her, his golden tawny eyes looking anywhere but her. “Do you mind?”

“Not really,” she said, not really knowing what she said. No man ever made her stupid with lust before.

His horns flushed a deeper color, almost like a blush, and her heart thumped with excitement. Damn, he made her want to lick him all over.

With a weary sigh, he leaned in and reached an overhead compartment above the bed. The towel slipped a bit lower as he stretched and Nakia licked her damn lips like a thirsty bitch. She could reach out and nudge the towel down. She could even tug on it with her teeth and let the towel fall free to the floor. Would he blush then at his nudity? Be upset that his wife wanted to see all of him, to touch all of him?

When did she turn into such a gross old letch? Rohn might be her husband, technically, but it was still wrong to objectify him, she reminded herself. And he wanted to send her away.

That cleared the ab-inspired haze of lust from her mind. She scooted away and went to brush her teeth.

Still steamy from Rohn’s shower, the cleansing room smelled of sandalwood and soap. The narrow room was the shower, with a drain in the center. Holes in the ceiling indicated where the water rained down. The sink and toilet folded out.

Charming. At least the fixtures were clean.

“Look,” she said, rinsing off her toothbrush before prepping it. “You were matched to me, and I take that seriously. I get that we knew each other once upon a time, but I’ve changed. You’ve obviously changed.” She shoved the toothbrush in her mouth and scrubbed away the funky aftertaste of the day. Rohn crowded in the doorway, arms folded over his wide chest, watching her. He wore trousers now but was no less distracting. “But I’m not a quitter. That hasn’t changed,” she said, rinsing out her mouth.

She dried off her hands under the hot air dryer. When the cycle finished, she continued to unpack her case. Rohn stared at her, his gaze inscrutable. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he compare her to the awkward teenager of sixteen years ago? Did he see the bit of pudge at her waist? Or did he disregard all of that and only see a nuisance.

She wrinkled her nose at him, and he snorted.

Yup, probably a nuisance.

“If this doesn’t work between us, fine,” she said, “but we’re going to try. We can agree on that much, yes?”

He ran another hand over his horn. “Yes.”

“Good. We have a lot to talk about in the morning but let’s discuss sleeping arrangements. I don’t mind sharing—”

“I have a cot on the flight deck. That is sufficient.”

“Yes, the infamous cot.” Nakia bit her tongue to keep any additional sarcasm under wraps as her new husband fled their bedroom.

With a sigh, she settled into the bed. She meant what she said. She wasn’t a quitter. She refused to beg to be loved, but she would fight for the man she remembered loving.

* * *

Nakia woke, finding a tray with eggs, toast, and coffee, still warm, waiting on the low table by the bedside. Rohn had been there, at least to drop off breakfast, but otherwise she found herself alone. Not that she expected a different result, given the way Rohn ran away from her.

She barely tasted the food as she ate, too focused on how much she disliked Rohn’s behavior, as if being married to her was the worst thing in the universe. The Rohn she remembered made her feel special. Admired. She never doubted her self-worth with him, even with a missing leg.

The Rohn she met yesterday had been a contradiction, one moment extraordinarily possessive because another male spoke to her and the next ready to send her back to home to Earth.

No, Earth wasn’t home. Rohn was her home now.

The words sounded hollow, even though she desperately wanted to believe them. Had Rohn always been this way but she never saw it because she had been a lovesick teenager?

She showered, pleased to discover that the small cleansing room was much cleaner than the rest of the apartment, or at least not as cluttered. She changed into a fresh outfit from her suitcase. If they were to be moved into a larger apartment meant for two people, she did not want to unpack. However, she realized she’d packed as if she were on a weekend getaway: one pair of shoes, two days’ worth of underwear, and not even a sweater.

It was chilly in the apartment. Rubbing her hands along her arms to warm up, she needed a sweater or jacket. She didn’t want to rummage through Rohn’s closet but justified herself by saying that he wouldn’t want her to be cold, either. Plus, she didn’t know how to adjust the thermostat or the environmental controls.

Nakia called her mother, to let her know she arrived safely, but the computer would only allow audio calls. She didn’t have the clearance for visuals. In desperate need of a hug, talking to her mom was the next best thing.

“I have your cat,” Yvonne said. In the background, Nakia distinctly heard Princess complaining. “Bossy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Did you warm up her canned food or just plop it down like a peasant?”

“Wow, I didn’t realize she was an actual princess.”

The familiar warmth of her mother’s teasing helped settle her nerves. Yvonne teased because she loved, and knowing that Nakia had her mother’s love, even at the other side of the galaxy, made her feel secure.

“What’s wrong, honey? You don’t sound right,” Yvonne said.

“I’m just tired. The pamphlets don’t tell you how exhausting it is to be teleported. Can I call you back when I’m more settled?”

“Of course, honey. The relocation people are supposed to start packing up your apartment tomorrow. Anything in particular that you want?”

“My game console and clothes. Definitely some sweaters. I need layers. I don’t think the Mahdfel feel the cold the way we do.”

“You sure you got room for your entire wardrobe?”

Nakia didn’t fight her grin. “I’ll find the space.” She was a bit of a clotheshorse. She just liked clothes, and when she found something that particularly flattered her figure, she bought it in every available color. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

The call disconnected and silence filled the room. She hated lying to her mother, even though she hadn’t told any lies. She was tired. Things were unsettled. Still, it felt dishonest not to unburden herself, her frustration and disappointment of her first day married to an alien.

One thing was certain, she and Rohn needed to have a serious conversation.

To keep herself occupied, and since she didn’t know anyone—other than Jaxar and that rude medic—she tidied up the room, starting with the laundry on the floor, which she gathered up and ran through the cleaning unit. Once she picked up the laundry, made the bed and folded it away, she cleaned off and wiped down the counter in the small kitchenette. Freshly tidied, the space felt a bit less chaotic and more reasonable.

Half-completed model spaceships, planes, and flying machines from all over the universe took up most of the surface area. She tidied up the projects, putting pieces back into their boxes, discovering that Rohn had five incomplete projects. It was as if he got distracted by the next new model, or never had the time to sit and work on them.

Nakia sat at the edge of the pull-out bed and read the instructions for a saucer-shaped ship. The printed words wavered a bit as her implanted translator worked to identify the language. The illustrations made sense, with a cat-like mascot helpfully pointing to important steps.

She picked a piece for a closer examination and discovered the tentacled cat mascot also piloted the saucer ship. She didn’t fight her grin. The model was too cute, and her heart warmed to a man who purchased and partially assembled an adorable cat spaceship.

A bell chimed, announcing a visitor. At the door, Nakia found a dark-haired human woman, holding a toddler and an older woman holding another infant, flanked by two serious-faced Mahdfel warriors. The larger of the pair seemed to fascinate the infants, who kept squirming to peer up at the male.

“Hello! I’m Mercy. You must be Nickie. Welcome to the Judgment.” Mercy gave a warm smile, adjusting the toddler in her arms, who immediately tried to climb over her shoulder again.

“It’s Nakia, actually, but thank you.”

“May we come in?” Mercy didn’t wait for a response and stepped forward. Nakia moved to the side, allowing the woman and her entourage to pass.

Mercy adjusted the toddler again but seemed to think better of it and gave a dramatic sigh. “Braith, he’s not going to be happy unless you hold him.”

“If I hold Axil, then Drake will cry for the same thing,” the male said.

“Yes, it’s terrible that the twins love you.” Mercy handed him the child. The other—presumably Drake—began to cry. Soon the grim-faced Braith had a baby in either arm. His put-upon look suggested that this happened frequently.

“How about Braith and I take the boys back for their nap?” the older woman suggested.

“Sounds great, Mom.” Mercy looked around the single room. “Bit small, isn’t it? We’ll have to sort that out.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you? Why are you here?” Nakia leaned against the kitchenette counter and wondered if she should offer coffee or a drink. She didn’t think Rohn had enough cups or mugs to do so, honestly.

“Oh! I forget. I’m Mercy, the warlord’s mate and I’m the Welcome Committee.” The woman gave another easy smile, like they were old friends, and sat on the pull-out. It was hard not to be swayed by Mercy’s warm nature. “I visit all the new brides, give you a tour if you like, and make sure you’re settling in. So, tell me, have you been checked out in Medical yet?”

Nakia nodded. “Yesterday. The teleport gave me,” she searched for the correct word, waving her hand in small circles, “issues.”

“Okay. Then how about we stop by Security and get you access to the ship’s computer?”

“I think I have access. I called my mother this morning.” Or whatever time it was when she woke up.

Mercy headed for the door and waved for Nakia to join her. “Everyone gets basic privileges when they arrive. We used to have a big problem with the guys forgetting and then the ladies were stuck. The computer wouldn’t even open the door for them.”

“I didn’t think the Mahdfel were absent-minded like that.” Then again, Rohn took hours to show up after she arrived. Hours.

“Generally, no. They’re just excitable and in such a rush to bring their mate home, they overlook those pesky details like knowing where to get food or how to order clothes. Speaking of which, how are you set for clothing? No one shows up with everything. We have a fabricator onboard that can make you decent staples, but there’s not a huge selection. Do you need a stop there?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, please.” Nakia had been distracted by Mercy’s claim that other Mahdfel were in a rush to get their new mates home alone. Not Rohn. Nakia was pretty positive the only reason he took her back to his apartment was because the doctor refused to let him abandon her in medical.

Rohn didn’t bring her home because he wanted her. He had to be shamed into it. Her stomach did somersaults at the realization.

God, they had so much to discuss.

In the corridor, they passed other Mahdfel, who stopped to murmur “Clan Mother” to Mercy or give her a salute. For her part, Mercy smiled and waved to the males, seeming to know everyone’s name.

“When I first arrived, I was the only woman. And the only human, too. There are lots of ladies now,” she explained, “from all over. Sangrin and Earth seem to be the biggest source of matches, though.”

“Is that common?” Nakia wondered if the clan kept the pool of potential brides limited to certain planets.

“Paax—that’s my husband—explained it once. He said that the frequency of matches was low, but often ran in families. Same genes, I guess. Anyway, the women who are compatible are selected, but they only have sons with the Mahdfel.” Mercy took them onto an elevator, then down several levels. “Basically, the pool of candidates shrinks with every generation until the gene pool is exhausted. So when a new planet enters the bride pool, there’s often a surge of brides from that planet, because there’s more of them. I think I said that right. When he geeks out, I only half-listen.” Mercy gave a conspiratorial wink.

“The warlord’s a geek? The warlord, the guy everyone was so worried about taking their horns yesterday?”

“Yup. Huge nerd, but I love him.”

Nakia couldn’t rectify the image she had of a warlord with the huge nerd Mercy described. “I met a warlord once. On Earth.”

“Did you? It wasn’t Paax. He’s only been in charge for two years now.”

“It was during the Invasion. He visited me in the hospital. Huge. Red. Scary as fuck. He had tusks like a boar, you know, and this tail that was… I dunno, like a scorpion?”

“Sounds like he was from one of the Roludreusian clans. I heard a rumor about their tails—” Mercy glanced over her shoulder at her guard. “I better not say. Jolyon will snitch.”

“I protest. I am not a snitch. I enjoy gossip as much as you,” he said in a flat, perfectly dry tone.

They arrived at Security and Nakia received clearance. She was now allowed to open most doors on the Judgment, including the flight deck where Rohn worked. She wanted to see where Rohn hid himself away but suspected it wouldn’t be someplace so obvious.

Mercy took Nakia to the tailor, as she called the fabricator shop. Another woman, also human, took her measurements and helped her select a basic wardrobe, in addition to explaining how to order toiletries and other sundries.

“Anything in particular you need?” the tailor asked.

“Walking shoes.” All she had were her flats. While comfortable, they had no cushion.

“In a few days, we’re stopping at the Sangrin Space Station,” Mercy said. “The shopping is good there, if you want more than a basic tunic in only one style.”

“Count me in.” Nakia slipped on her new shoes, enjoying the bounce to the sole. They would do.

They paused in the mess hall for a quick bite to eat. Mercy chatted about the size of the ship and how many warriors and their mates lived on board. It seemed like every available warrior had to stop by their table and greet her. After lunch, the tour continued, stopping in a huge, open green space with trees. Thick grass covered the ground and a stream wound its way through.

“This is the orchard,” Mercy said, obvious pride in her voice. “It generates oxygen and provides fresh fruit. When I first arrived, it was the only green space on the ship. Now this entire level is mixed use for a fruit and vegetable gardens, the orchard and fallow fields. We have other gardens now, but this is the largest.”

“It’s impressive. Do you grow all your food?”

Mercy eased herself down onto a wooden bench. “My back. Even though I’m not carrying the weight of the twins anymore, my back still hurts. And no, we don’t grow all our food, but we do most of our own fruit and veggies. When I first arrived, they only ate that weird meat granola bar.” She made a face.

“A ration bar. It is perfectly nutritious,” Jolyon said.

“It’s gross. And what comes out of the reconstructor is not much better. We have a cook now in the mess hall who makes real food with real veggies. Our meat is still lab-grown, which doesn’t compare to taste, but I haven’t figured out the logistics of keeping livestock yet. You don’t happen to have a degree in agriculture science or botany, or even an interest in gardening?”

“Me? No. I went to law school. Do you need someone on this project? It seems like it’s flourishing.” Nakia scanned the area. While peaceful, she saw signs of industry. Vents overhead distributed oxygen and light fixtures slowly adjusted their angle, mimicking the sun’s journey across the sky.

“I try to match new arrivals with their interests, and the gardens take a lot of manpower. You’re a lawyer? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was head of legal for a developer. They did large scale projects, schools, hospitals, that sort of thing. Mostly I dealt with real estate and contracts.”

Mercy grinned. “Oh, I think we’ll find a use for you.”

They continued, stopping at a tranquil Zen garden, a lounge with the comfiest chairs and lots of coffee, then the mess hall, which was crowded with warriors and hydroponic greenery. The final destination was the nursery. “We only have a handful of babies now, but one day—” Mercy tossed a not-so-subtle glance to Nakia and her stomach. “Well, I guess, you’ll find out. This floor is designated for the children’s education and training.”

“I thought there was an academy.”

“There is but raising a son within the clan is permitted. We still have a few years before we need classrooms built out, but it’ll be a big project.” Another not-so-subtle glance.

“Sounds interesting, but I’d like to get settle in before making any commitments,” she said.

“Very diplomatic.” They headed back to the elevator and, ultimately, Rohn’s one-room apartment. Although Mercy had to be disappointed that Nakia didn’t jump on the classroom construction project, she didn’t show it. If anything, it made Nakia want to help the woman more.

Outside the apartment door, Nakia found herself reluctant to enter. Mercy took such pride in the ship, wanting to show it off and spend time with Nakia. She thought about all the changes the warlord made just to please his mate and felt a stab of jealousy. Her own mate had done nothing, only begrudgingly allowed her into his tiny, messy room.

“I hope you enjoy living here. It’s not luxury, but it’s getting more comfortable every day,” Mercy said.

“What about pets?”

“Small animals, cats, dogs, birds and the like, are perfectly acceptable. Did you leave someone behind?”

“Princess, my cat.” Bringing Princess aboard probably wasn’t her best idea, but Nakia didn’t want to be alone.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Mercy said. “Feel free to contact me if you have any questions or concerns.”

Faced with an empty apartment, Nakia decided to break into the stash of emergency chocolate chips in her suitcase. Normally when she felt this out of sorts, she’d fire up the game console and smash a few robots. With that option gone, she’d bake.

Thirty minutes later, music played as she mixed in together ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Cooking always helped to ground her. When she felt down, she pulled out a worn cookbook, her grandmother’s, and took comfort in following the same recipes, complete with faded handwritten notes in the margins. In her family, food was definitely love. Preparing a meal was an act of devotion that stayed true across the generations, no matter how far the family scattered across the stars.

She missed her mother. She missed sitting at the kitchen table, peeling and chopping, while her mother caught her up on the good gossip. Sure, her mom was heavy handed with the salt and tended to overcook, but that just meant that Nakia did the actual cooking on family dinner nights.

What Mercy had shown her that day and the community onboard the Judgment impressed her. The wives were wanted—cherished even—as were families. She wanted that, every bit of it.

The warm, buttery scent of fresh cookies filled her with comfort and a sense of belonging. She left them in the oven a few more minutes to get the bottoms nice and crispy, just like home. She hoped Rohn felt the same connection to family and the way loved ones care for another. He didn’t seem thrilled with their match, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She’d bury him in cookies if need be.

Rohn:

He did not intend to stay away all day. Rohn had a long list of his intended tasks and returning Nakia to Earth sat at the top. Hiding like an unbloodied youth in his first battle was not on the list.

“What are you still doing here?”

Rohn tensed at Merrek’s question but did not answer directly. He stood with both his hands planted on his desk, staring down at the schedule. “A cargo vessel drifted from the shipping lane and needs an escort back. I don’t have the ships to spare.”

The reason he didn’t have the ships to spare was due to an engine overheating from pilot error. The resulting smoke set off the fire suppression system. The entire flight deck was doused in flame-retardant powder, which was ideal for snuffing out fires but horrible for anything that required unobstructed air intake. Every affected ship had to be cleaned and the filtration system dismantled and cleaned by hand with tiny brushes. Only the older ships in storage, covered in dust cloths, had been spared. The older ships were maintained and kept space worthy, so sending them out took no more effort than usual, even if his pilots did complain about the ancient computer navigation system.

Rohn found the culprits: two young pilots who apparently did not understand that their ships were sophisticated machines and not, in fact, toys or a measurement of their manhood. He set them to scrubbing with toothbrushes.

When he thought he found a break in the work and could delegate the rest of the tasks, another emergency demanded his attention. Normally his pilots were not so incompetent, but today they could not find their asses with both hands.

“Send the older ship. The long-range scan is not as accurate but it’s an escort, not a scouting mission,” Merrek said.

Rohn nodded. It was better to scramble a less-than-ideal ship now rather than leave the cargo vessel unprotected. “Pick someone. I can’t stand the sight of any of you at the moment.”

As Merrek left, another figure crowded his door. The day’s work would never end, it seemed.

“What are you doing here?”

Rohn briefly closed his eyes and searched for the remains of his patience. “I work here.”

Vox set a potted green plant on his desk, a triumphant grin on his face. “Viola!”

“I believe the word is voila—and what is that?”

“A gift, for your mate. Terran females enjoy plants,” Vox said.

Jealousy burned through him like acid. Was it not enough that Vox already had a mate? He had to bring gifts to Rohn’s mate too?

Vox slung an arm across Rohn’s shoulder, all companionable, like they were the closest of friends. “I also wanted to have the talk with you.”

Rohn shrugged off Vox’s half-embrace. “We have nothing to discuss.”

“That is a shame for your mate, because this is a talk that every newly mated male should have. I want you, my friend, to feel comfortable to ask me any question, as I have vast amounts of experience pleasing my mate. I am sure there is much you do not know about Terran anatomy and feel too embarrassed to ask. They may look small, but they are compatible.” Vox paused. Rohn felt the base of his horns flush with mortification. “Very compatible.”

Why did the male continue to talk?

“Or maybe you would rather ask a medic? I can fetch Kalen.”

Rohn took a horrified step back from Vox. Bad enough the male intended to have a sex talk with him, but he wanted to drag in others? “No! No. Do not.”

Vox bent over with laughter. “Oh, the look on your face!”

Rohn growled and gave the pilot a harsh shove. Vox stumbled back a few steps but continued to find delight in his horrible teasing, wiping away tears from his eyes.

“I see you have too much free time and need me to keep you occupied.” Rohn handed Vox a scrubbing brush and the laughter died instantly.

“I cannot. My mate requires me. Our son has the colic. His tears only cease when his father holds him.”

Valle was the happiest, most content babe Rohn had ever seen. Granted, he had only encountered a handful, but the point remained.

“I’d say you’ve grown lazy, but you’ve always been lazy,” Rohn said. “Come. We will scrub out a filtration unit together, as long as you swear not to discuss Terran anatomy.”

“But it is so interesting. And soft. And pink. And squishy in the best places.”

His mate’s complexion was a warm brown. He did not think she had pink places, unless they were secret places that only a mate would discover. His tattoos warmed at the notion. He idly ran a hand over his shattered horn. Finally, after listening to Vox recount all the things that made his mate less angry with him—Rohn could understand how that would happen—he headed home to his mate.

The thought of having someone waiting for him made his steps lighter. He knew he couldn’t allow Nakia to stay. He was an unworthy male whose actions cost another male his mate. He bore the scars. Starfire, he was the cause that Nakia wore a prosthesis. Everywhere he looked, he saw the evidence of his failure. How would he ever possibly believe that a male such as him deserved to be anything but alone?

Send her back now, before he had a chance to grow attached. Before his resolve weakened.

Yes, that was why he arrived with a hot meal and the gifted plant, because he excelled at deluding himself.

Idiot male.

The aroma of butter, sugar, and melted chocolate greeted him at the door. That aroma. He had not smelled anything like it since he first shared a plate of warm cookies on Earth with Nakia.

Inside, he found his mate swaying to music, eyes closed, holding a white ceramic mug in both hands.

He leaned against the door, watching her. She sang along to the rapid-fire lyrics, shimmying her hips, and a hint of a smile on her soft, pink lips. The simple joy on her face fascinated him.

She opened her velvety dark eyes and her smile blossomed. She always smiled for him. In that moment, he felt right down to his bones how good it was to come home to music, a warm meal, and the smile of someone who cared. In the span of one day, Nakia had made his one-room apartment—the place he only used to sleep and shower—into a home.

His resolve crumbled completely. He would never let her go.

“Hey. I made us cookies,” she said.

This female. Could she be any more perfect?

“I like cookies,” Rohn said, when he finally found his voice.

Nakia held out a plate of golden-brown discs. Still warm, the Terran treat melted in his mouth in buttery, chocolatey delight. He had not thought of the delicacy in sixteen years but the memory, the aroma, and the taste were completely bound up with his mate.

His mate.

He didn’t have the special blend of tea for the traditional ritual of newly mated couples, he realized. He became acutely aware of all the material things his mate deserved that he failed to provide. In fact, he had given her nothing but disgraceful behavior since she arrived the previous day and she still made him cookies.

“Thank you. This is too good to be from the reconstructor,” Rohn said.

“I brought the chocolate chips with me. Everything else came from the reconstructor.”

Rohn nodded. Real Earth chocolate had a unique bitter and sweet quality. Nothing else compared. “And I am glad that chocolate is not poisonous to Mahdfel.”

“You remember that?” A dusky red color rose in her cheeks. “I was just being a selfish brat. I didn’t want to share.”

“I remember everything.”

As he savored the cookie, he looked around the clean, empty space. She cleaned. He had a system. He knew where everything was in his apartment and now, he could find nothing. What happened if he had to get ready in a rush? What if he needed his omnitool and didn’t have the luxury of spending ten minutes searching through drawers to find it?

“You moved my stuff,” he said.