CHAPTER 3

Nitiel cast a secret glance at the female sitting opposite him in the limo. No change. They had been traveling to the space port for twenty Terran minutes now, and she was still hunched over her primitive communication device, tapping on the illuminated screen with her slender fingers.

He couldn't see what she was writing with such focus but even if he could, he would not be able to read it. The translator chip inside the pointed tip of his ear allowed him to understand only spoken Terran languages.

Not that understanding this female's language helped him understand her behavior. No chip could help with that. Clearly, his studies of Terran biology, history, customs, and military tactics were of no assistance either.

How could his first mission on Terra involve the most obstinate and disrespectful female on the planet? True, he hadn't dealt with local females before, seeing those on the space stations only in passing, but he had heard stories about them. The mated Gaenthians in space told Nitiel mostly intimate stories, but the soldiers stationed on Terra, including the two who assisted him on this mission, had shared with him their experience with females on the job.

They had escorted a total of 15 females to their niels. Or fated mates, as was the term Terrans used. All those females had packed some baggage and willingly went to meet the males the Goddess had gifted them with and the ASI had helped locate. Some had lost water – crying, as Terrans called the strange dehydration process – but out of joy. There was one who had fainted but out of shock at having been chosen for such a worthy male as Vrixiel, one of Nitiel's longest-serving soldiers and closest friend. Vrixiel had thought it non-overwhelming to welcome his niela on the station with as many of his medals as he could fit on his uniform.

Not a single female had attempted to decline the greatest honor of all. Not a single one had dared question the most powerful artificial intelligence the Intergalactic Alliance had ever created. None had gone as far as to accuse a Gaenthian of lying.

Until Hloe Davison.

Nitiel had called her lady as per protocol, but she was nothing like the females of Gaenthia. Not many of them remained, which was why the Goddess was blessing male Gaenthians with nielas from intelligent species across the known galaxy. But all of the surviving Gaenthian females were ladies through and through. Polite, cool, and collected, they were the very opposite of Hloe Davison.

She had displayed her emotions freely, leaving her thoughts and feelings clear to see on her face and in her body language. She had spoken about her feelings as well. She had huffed and scoffed throughout the entire preparation of her baggage – a huge rectangular box she had filled nearly to bursting with whatever she had found lying around her untidy sleeping chamber. She had given him bad looks every time he had fluttered his wings in impatience while watching her pack. When he had told her all her belongings would be brought to the space station later and any clothing she needed until then would be provided by her fated mate, she had rolled her beautiful green eyes at Nitiel.

Yes, her eyes were beautiful. Hloe Davison was beautiful. Nitiel could not lie even to himself.

The moment she had opened the door to her abode, he had been rendered speechless. No wonder he had butchered her first name: he had been that smitten.

Hloe Davison had hair as black as the outer space he loved watching. Soft-looking strands were flying free from her hair tie, tempting him to run his fingers through them. Her pale skin was the most delicate he had ever seen, giving her an ethereal glow that kept drawing his gaze. So did her expressive lips, the color of which reminded him of Gaenthia' shavi berries and made him wonder whether they tasted just as sweet. And Hloe Davison's willowy figure, so different from the stocky build of Gaenthian females and encased by a dress too revealing by his kind's standards, was the most alluring sight his eyes had ever feasted upon.

Still, beauty did not excuse the Terran's behavior back at her abode. Nitiel should not forget that if he was to prevent any improper thoughts about the attractive female meant for Commander Siriniel, the male he respected above all others.

Instead of focusing on Hloe Davison's gloriously long legs left scandalously bare from knee to ankle, Nitiel should be thinking about the next steps in his mission to bring her to the Commander. On their way to the space station, he had to make sure she would not mistake the Commander's clan name upon their first meeting. That she wouldn't make claims about glitches and other nonsense right off. That she would not disrespect the culture she was about to become part of.

To do that, however, Nitiel had to talk to the female. Which could not happen while she was entirely focused on her communicator.

What was she doing on the primitive device? She had already talked with some Shayla to postpone a meeting by four days ‘since something unexpected came up that I am forced to deal with first'. Nitiel had rumbled his disapproval at the description.

She had also talked to her only living parent who, understandably, had sounded ecstatic at the news of the match between her daughter and Commander Siriniel. Nitiel had smiled inwardly at Hloe Davison's shocked reaction when her mother had then ended the call with, ‘Go, go, don't keep your hunk waiting! Call as soon as possible to let me know the wedding date so I can buy a dress. You know I hate last-minute shopping.'

So, who was Hloe Davison in contact with now? Was it possible that she had a human partner she had failed to report to the authorities, as required by all females on the ASI's database? Nitiel hoped she was respectful at least of Terran laws.

Either way, all intimate ties were severed upon finding your fated mate. No other partner stood a chance once you received the Goddess' greatest gift: the one person whose body and soul made yours complete.

Nitiel cast another secret look at Hloe Davison. The only change from the last 25 minutes was that she was scrolling and had a deep frown going on.

Enough was enough.

"We are almost out of the city, Lady Hloe. Once out, we will be able to take flight to get to the spaceport faster."

"Uh-huh," she said without sparing him a single glance.

"I am trying to say that if you wish to enjoy at least the final moments of this part of the journey, you should put your communicator away now."

"Mhm." Again, not even a peek his way.

"My two colleagues driving us told me females are impressed by this limo. The stars-like lights on the ceiling have been added specifically to make the transition to space smoother."

"Sure."

"The limo being capable of flight outside of city limits has been described by previous passengers as exhilarating."

"Okay."

Nitiel clenched his jaw. "Lady Hloe, have you heard a word of what I said?"

"Uh-huh."

"You are being rude on purpose, then?"

"Mhm."

He narrowed his gaze at her. Not that she noticed, still looking at her device.

"What if I told you that you will never see Terra again? That your mother will not be allowed to attend the wedding?"

"Okay."

Just as he had suspected. She was not listening, let alone paying attention to her specially designed surroundings.

Before he knew what he was doing, Nitiel was pressing the second button on his door handle.

"Hey! Why did my phone just die?"

Nitiel felt a bit ashamed at using the onboard communication scrambler, but perhaps it was better this way. She could finally pay attention to the journey now. "We are preparing for takeoff. I do not know how Terran electronics react to that." The very truth.

She kept tapping at the dark screen. "Fudge! I was in the middle of reading reactions to the Temporary Closed message I just put on my online shop–Wait, did you say takeoff? Are we at the space port already?" She finally unglued her eyes from her device and looked out of the window. "Huh, we just exited the city."

She looked his way, her green eyes filled with suspicion. "What is going on?"

Nitiel sighed. "Had you listened to what I said a moment ago, you would know. Lady Hloe."

She huffed. "Well, sorry for using the last chance to salvage my dream and not remain without any income whatsoever. Subcommander."

He frowned. "Your dream?"

"Yes, my dream. Not everyone dreams only of a fated mate, you know."

He found himself curious. What was this dream the bare mention of which ignited such sparks in her pretty eyes?

Before he could ask, the limo began to ascend and she squeaked in surprise. For a moment Nitiel worried she might be scared, but then he saw her excited expression. Followed by her practically plastering her face to the window to watch. Finally some appreciation of the effort his people put into this journey.

He should be looking out the window himself, to enjoy the sight of the outdated, bumpy Terran infrastructure remaining far below them and the puffy clouds flying by. But he found it impossible to look away from Hloe Davison. This was the first time he was seeing joy on her face. It made her features even more charming.

"Whoa, we're flying so high! Awesome."

His wing feathers shook in pleasure.

"How come we're not wearing seat belts but are not sliding off the leather seats?"

"The limo generates its own gravity, Lady Hloe. The vehicle can be upside down, and we would still remain in our seats."

"Amazing."

Nitiel smiled, he couldn't help it. She was as excited as a Gaenthian child receiving their first weapon. Not a lady-like behavior, but pleasing to him nonetheless.

Suddenly, the gravitational pull disappeared. He was heavy enough to remain in his seat, but as the limo executed a slight turn, the female slid off hers.

And right into Nitiel.