Chapter 4

4

When Torren said he'd found their mahaya , Zanyr hadn't truly believed it was possible. Though he'd never spoken about it, Zanyr believed their ancestors were punishing them for the choices they'd made. Fighting for money was no life for a warrior with honor. No matter why they'd chosen that path, they'd never find their mate or lasting happiness until they chose a new direction.

Despite his uncertainty, he'd dropped what he was doing and rushed to their designated meeting place. Apart from a quick wash in an irrigation cistern, he'd not bothered with anything else. If she were truly their mate, she wouldn't care about appearances. And maybe a human female wouldn't judge them for the things they'd done in the past.

Maybe.

The moment he caught her scent, he'd known. All his doubts vanished, leaving him to bask in a moment of pure certainty. They'd found her. At long last, the ancestors had forgiven them and sent them a gift, carried on the fairest of winds.

He'd had his share of lovers over the years. They both had. Sometimes they'd shared while other times they'd enjoyed pleasurable company on their own, but neither of them had ever had more than a passing interest in the females they spent time with. Sex was a release, a distraction from the darkness that shrouded their lives. Jenna was so much more than that. She was their mahaya , the one female they would cherish and protect for the rest of their lives. And for Zanyr, she represented something more—redemption.

They kept her on the rooftop longer than he'd intended. The first kiss wasn't enough. Nor was the second. Or the third. Back and forth she'd moved between them, turned one way and then the other, until the need for her was a living flame. Torren had been right to bring her somewhere public, where they couldn't give in to the temptation to strip her naked and learn how to make her scream with pleasure.

Soon they'd do that. Soon, but not yet. That much had been drilled into them by those with human mates. They needed more time to adjust and accept the sharhal along with what it meant. Someone had mentioned gifting their mate with flowers. One of the cyborgs? Yes. Wreckage had done that.

He didn't know why plants were a good courtship gift, but he was an agriculturalist. He had plenty of plants he could offer. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he'd find a way to get it for her.

"We should take her downstairs. If we stay any longer…" Torren messaged.

Zanyr agreed, but even then, it took several more minutes for them to stop.

By then, their mahaya was radiant, her eyes glowing with desire and her lips swollen from their kisses.

Once free, Jenna seemed to diminish, the light in her eyes dimming as she straightened out her clothes and tried to smooth back the strands of hair that had escaped the knot at the back of her head. "Give me a moment. I need to make myself presentable."

This time, she spoke in Galactic Common, her words muffled because she kept her head down. He didn't understand what had changed, but he didn't like it. Where had the passionate female who had kissed him gone, and why?

"You look beautiful." Torren took her hands to still them, his expression showing he was as concerned by the change as Zanyr.

"You are more than presentable, ana-thi. You are stunning and perfect. Why would you think otherwise?"

She raised her head and blinked at them in surprise. "I'm far from perfect. And what will everyone think if I show up looking like…" She gestured at herself. "This."

They will think that you were enjoying the attention of your mahoyen ," Zanyr replied.

"While wishing they stood in our place. Well, the ones who do not have mates of their own." Torren smiled down at her. "And even some of them will be envious."

The wide-eyed look she gave them told Zanyr all he needed to know. Jenna was uncertain. Was it them? The situation? Something else? He had no idea.

She tugged at her hands, trying to free herself from Torren's grip. "But I—"

He didn't let her finish. "No buts. We speak the truth. You are perfect, and to be blunt, I like that every male who sees you will know that we put that flush on your cheeks and covered you with our scent. He leaned down to gaze into her eyes. "You are ours."

Her pupils dilated and her teeth closed on her lower lip as she considered his words. Then she nodded. "Alright then. I don't think I can do any better than this, anyway."

This time, Torren released her hands when she pulled at them. She smoothed her hair with one hand, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. He was tempted to muss her up all over again, but now wasn't the time. He didn't understand the source of her doubts yet. He needed more information.

"Come." He held out his hand to her.

She took it without hesitation. "What happens now?"

He pulled her toward him, crouched, and swept her up into his arms. "Now, we go down to the tavern and spend some time getting to know each other."

"You're going to carry me? Oh no, no, no. I can walk."

"You can, yes. But I'd rather carry you." He grinned at her. "Indulge me?"

Her uncertainty broke like waves on the shore, replaced by a soft laugh and a smile that eclipsed the sun. "Indulging you sounds like a dangerous thing to do." Her small hand touched his cheek. "But I trust you." She glanced over at Torren. "And you as well."

Her words hit with the impact of a runaway rocket. His desire rekindled, amplified by new feelings that he didn't want to examine right now.

"You honor me," was all he said.

"You honor both of us," Torren said.

"If I can't trust my mahoyen , this mating is doomed before it even begins. I need to trust you." She looked down, avoiding his eyes as she spoke. "Isn't that how this works?"

Zanyr didn't know how to answer her. He wanted her trust, but he also wanted to earn it. If she knew who he'd been once, the things he'd done, would she trust him then? Looking down at his female, Zanyr made a decision. They couldn't tell her about their past. Not yet.

He carried her down the stairs while Torren filled the silence with inane chatter. They still spoke in their own language, confident she could understand them.

"Saral has a table waiting for us. They're not officially open yet, but she knows we're coming."

"They're not open yet? So it won't be busy? Just us?"

"I gather a few patrons come in early, but it won't be busy. Anya might not be much for mornings, but no one is going to turn away a paying customer."

"It's a bit early for her. She's not much for mornings, but I was told that Maggie is working already."

"Oh! I know Maggie. She taught a few classes on colony life and tricks to help us adapt." Jenna relaxed in his arms, apparently reassured now that someone she knew would be present. That it was another human female probably didn't hurt, either.

The stairs led to a small alleyway that ran alongside the tavern. The door to the kitchen was propped open, allowing a combination of savory scents to fill the air. Despite having already eaten, Zanyr's mouth watered. Unlike most taverns he'd come across in his life, the Bar None served excellent food that drew a crowd day after day.

Saral appeared in the doorway before they reached it. The Vardarian female greeted them with a spatula in her hand and a broad smile. "I was about to send one of my mates to the roof to see if you were ever coming down. Come in. Come in. Your table is ready."

Her gaze fell on Jenna, and her smile grew wider still. "Jenna! Congratulations. The winds have carried you into the lives of two of my favorite customers!"

"You claim everyone is your favorite customer," Torren pointed out as they filed into the kitchen.

"Because it's true. You all bring something special to this place. Even Thrash, but please don't tell him I said that. That male's ego is big enough already."

"Are you sure it's okay for us to be here? I mean, you're not even open yet," Jenna said as Zanyr navigated the bustling kitchen space, careful to keep a safe distance from the hot stove as well as the two males already hard at work.

"Of course! Anya may not love mornings, but we do."

Antas, the older of the two males, raised his head and winked. "I do like mornings. Especially the ones we aren't working. That way, we can keep our mahaya in bed all day."

Jenna blushed, but Saral laughed and blew a kiss to her mate. "Your mahaya likes that, too. In fact, I will tell Anya we need a few extra days off next week."

"More than one?" they asked at the same time.

"Of course. Like mates and orgasms, days off are better when they come in multiples." Saral chortled as she led them through the swinging door and into the main room.

A human female crouched behind the bar, both hands inside one of the bartending droids. "Ignore her, Jenna. Saral loves trying to embarrass humans. She thinks it's funny that we're so reserved about some things. And congratulations."

Zanyr looked down and noted that Jenna's cheeks had indeed darkened several shades.

"Thanks, Maggie. I guess this means I'm the first of the second group of colonists to experience the sharhal ."

"Seems so. I haven't heard about anyone else falling prey to their pheromones yet. Which means your group will be bombarding you with questions the second they hear the news." Maggie shoved her red hair back from her face and straightened up. "You might want to turn off your comm before word gets out."

" Veth . That's a good idea. I'll do that." She turned and looked up at Zanyr. "As soon as someone puts me down."

"Good luck with that," Torren joked. "If he puts you down before we reach our table, I'm picking you right back up again."

Maggie snickered. "Welcome to the possessive males' possession club. We meet every second Tuesday afternoon here at the bar. No mated males allowed."

"Then we'll wait for her outside," Zanyr declared. No way was their mahaya going anywhere without them. She was theirs, and they would protect her at all costs.

Maggie shrugged. "You and every other newly mated male are welcome to lurk outside. Saral will even feed you if you ask her nicely, but you have to stay outside."

Torren scowled at Saral. "You won't let us inside?"

"Those are Anya's rules. I just enforce them." Saral chuckled and showed them to a table at the back of the large room. A few customers were already eating, and several Vardarians glanced up with curiosity. When each realized what was going on, they gave smiles and nods of acknowledgment of their good fortune.

The Bar None wasn't a flashy place. The furniture was standard, prefabricated stuff made to endure constant use without needing to be replaced. The ceilings were high enough to accommodate the taller-than-human height of most Vardarians, and the chairs were a mix of styles that allowed a variety of builds and species to sit down comfortably.

"Sit," Saral instructed. "I'll be back with your meals. Nothing too heavy. I don't expect you'll be hanging around long enough to eat much."

Torren pulled out a chair as Zanyr reluctantly set Jenna back on her feet.

"Wait. Saral. We didn't order anything yet."

The silver-scaled female chuckled as she walked away. "Trust me. I know what you want already."

"Well, okay then. I guess today is a two-breakfast day."

Zanyr claimed the seat to Jenna's left. "We often let her decide for us. She knows her customers well."

"But I've only met her once or twice." Jenna glanced over at the now-closing door. "You're sure?"

"Very," Torren stated. "You can trust Saral completely. In fact, if you have any questions about all of this that you don't want to ask us, she's the one you should talk to. That female is one of Haven's greatest treasures."

"Yes, she is. Every community needs someone like her." This tavern always made him think back to the better parts of his youth. It reminded him of his father's kitchen—comfortable, practical, and filled with the same rich scents of food.

He could almost hear his mother singing whatever new song they were learning at the local choir as she went about her chores. He let the fragments of memory flow through his mind, each one polished until they lost the rough edges of reality and shone with a glow only time and distance could create.

Jenna shook her head. "If she's all that, I certainly could have used someone like her back on Earth." The little human sighed. "I should mention that I'm an orphan. I was raised in a corporate-run institution. There's not a lot of kindness or wisdom to be found in places like that."

It felt as if a band of pure ice constricted his chest. From what he knew, Earth's hive cities were overcrowded, poverty-stricken places that were closer to breeding colonies for the corporations' workforces than anything else. What had she gone through growing up in such a place with no one to watch over her and keep her safe?

Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand. "I can't promise you wisdom. Torren and I have made too many mistakes in our lives to be considered wise, but I can promise you this. You will be safe with us, Jenna."

"Yes," Torren agreed. "You are ours, and we will protect you, support you, and do our best to make you happy."

Jenna smiled and squeezed Zanyr's fingers before reaching her other hand out to Torren. "That sounds like a good place to start."

She was right about that. This was a good beginning. The problem was, he already wanted more.

Patience. She wasn't Vardarian, so she would need more time to come to terms with the situation. He'd vowed to keep her safe and happy. That meant curbing his desires until she was ready.

Qarf . He hoped that didn't take long.