Khelvar paused, turning his head to glance toward the stairs. “What is happening up there?”
Zevris’s smile widened as the voices grew louder. “I believe the examination is over.”
A door opened in the upstairs hallway, and suddenly the voices were clearer. A group of full-grown faloran males—the medical team—were protesting, their words stumbling over each other in a nonsensical jumble.
“No more poking and prodding my baby,” Tabitha commanded, speaking loudly and firmly but with immense calm and control. “I’ve had enough poking and prodding from the lot of you to last me a lifetime.”
When the males started talking again, she silenced them with a quick nope.
“She has spoken,” declared Ivreni, the faloran midwife Khelvar had sent to assist with Tabitha’s pregnancy and birth. She was a kind female, but not the sort to be crossed—at least for anyone but Tabitha.
“Go on now,” Tabitha said in the same tone Zevris had heard her use to shoo away hungry pigeons at the park. “Time for all of you to head on out. Go compare your notes. Skye and I are due some rest without you looming around us.”
Shuffling steps sounded in the upstairs hallway, and within a few seconds, the medical team trudged down the steps one-by-one, looking like children who’d just been scolded.
The four male falorans stopped in the living room when they saw Zevris and Khelvar.
One of them, Parax, cleared his throat, glanced toward the stairway, and returned his golden eyes to Zevris. “We will return tomorrow to continue our examination of the—”
Tabitha, who was on her way down the steps with Skye in her arms, her long hair plaited in a single braid over her shoulder, cleared her throat quite loudly.
“Our examination of Skye,” Parax continued after a wide-eyed look at Tabitha.
Zevris pushed himself off the couch and strode to the front door. “If Tabitha decides our daughter is up for it, we will let you know.”
Ivreni moved forward, squeezing past the other falorans who stood huddled together, and looped her arm around Parax’s. The male looked down at the older female and arched his brow.
“Let them rest. Skye is a healthy, strong female,” Ivreni said. “There will be time to examine the baby later. For now, give the parents their time to bond with their daughter.”
Parax’s tongue slipped out to run across his lips briefly. His gaze shifted to Tabitha and Skye, then to Zevris, before falling on Ivreni again. “Very well.”
“Good,” Ivreni said, patting his hand. “Now you males can bring me somewhere for my evening meal. Consider it payment for my having to listen to you chatter all day.”
Khelvar chuckled. “You heard the female. Out.”
Zevris opened the door and stood aside, offering Ivreni and the others a nod as they filed out through the doorway.
As soon as the last of them was clear, he closed the door, turned, and hurried to Tabitha. He frowned, slipping an arm behind her—though his frown couldn’t survive when he looked down at his rosy-cheeked daughter. “You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet, Nykasha. I would have gladly chased them out for you.”
Tabitha grinned up at him. “I’ve been in that bed long enough. Ivreni said I could come downstairs as long as I sit and don’t do anything strenuous.” She turned her face toward Khelvar. “Hi, Khelvar. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
“It is nice to finally meet you, too, Tabitha,” Khelvar replied.
“Sit first,” Zevris said, gently guiding her toward the couch. “Then you may talk.”
“So bossy,” she muttered as Zevris helped ease her onto the couch.
He didn’t miss the smile she tried to hide. As soon as she was down, he reached aside, plucked up one of the pillows, and positioned it under her arm for extra support as she cradled Skye to her chest. Before pulling back, he leaned his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “You like it when I’m bossy.”
He took delight in the blush that stained her cheeks.
Khelvar, with his hands folded behind his back, stepped closer and peered down at Skye.
Tabitha smiled up at him. “Would you like to hold her?”
Khelvar’s jaw slackened, and his brows rose. Zevris had never seen surprise on the ultricar’s face before this moment.
“I do not wish to impose,” Khelvar said after a few moments.
“You’re not,” Zevris said. He reached down, gently taking Skye from Tabitha, and lifted the infant. Skye’s eyes opened, and Zevris smiled at his adorable daughter. Her eyes were so much like his, glowing soft, vibrant blue, but her hair was so blond it was nearly white.
She was bundled tight in a blanket, keeping her little arms, legs, and tail hidden—and keeping her from scratching herself with her tiny claws.
Were it anyone else, Zevris might not have been able to pass his child over. But he trusted Khelvar more than he trusted anyone save Tabitha. He turned to the ultricar and held Skye out to him. “Khelvar, meet my daughter.”
The older male hesitated, but finally reached for the infant. His big hands seemed uncharacteristically uncertain as they cradled Skye. Zevris had seen Khelvar in battle—he’d seen those hands operate weaponry with impossible steadiness, had seen their confidence and potency in hand-to-hand combat, had seen them perform feats of dexterity during times of immense stress, pressure, and danger.
And Zevris understood, because his own hands had performed with the same steadiness and confidence until he’d first held Skye.
Khelvar drew the baby girl closer and gazed down at her. His face instantly softened. For a long while, he was silent, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “I’ve never held a baby before. I’ve dedicated most of my life to the Exthurizen, and never thought…never even considered this was an option. And it probably wasn’t.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. When he turned his face back up to Zevris, he cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Zevris, Tabitha. She is beautiful.”
Tabitha sniffled, and her own voice was thick when she said, “Thank you.” She fanned her eyes. “Sorry. It’s totally hormones. I swear.”
Khelvar smiled. “Thank you both. Of everything I’ve taken part in during my time, this is, without a doubt, the most meaningful, the most important. We don’t often have the privilege of happy moments to enjoy, but this makes up for all of it.”
The warmth that had resided in Zevris’s chest ever since he’d first met Tabitha flared. He reached forward and placed a hand on Khelvar’s shoulder. “You have been my commander for half my life, but more than that, you have been as a father to me.”
Khelvar looked up at him and chuckled. “However old I feel, I’m not that old yet, Zevris.”
“But the sentiment remains true. And Tabitha and I want you to know that we consider you to be Skye’s grandfather in every way that matters.”
Khelvar swallowed thickly. Moisture welled in his eyes, and his smile widened. “Thank you. I…this… Thank you.” With immense care and reverence, he handed Skye back to Zevris.
“Feel free to visit any time you’d like,” Zevris said. “As a friend, as our family. Not as my commanding officer.”
“Our door is always open to you,” Tabitha added.
Chuckling softly, Khelvar lifted a hand to his face, wiping away the tears that had spilled from his eyes. “You really are trying to coerce me into retirement, aren’t you? Thank you both, again. I’m going to accompany the medical team so I can receive their reports. I’ll contact you tomorrow.”
Zevris nodded. “Have a good evening.”
“Good night, Khelvar,” said Tabitha.
Khevlar leaned down and gently smoothed his hand over Skye’s little head, brushing back her hair. “Good night.”
He let himself out; for the couple seconds he had the front door open, Zevris could hear the medical team somewhere outside, talking in hushed but excited tones. He’d done his best not to be too hard on them—their life’s work was finally coming to fruition, and it meant the potenti
al salvation of the faloran race. Their excitement was understandable.
Zevris looked down at his daughter and gently brushed the back of a finger across her cheek. She turned her face toward it, as though trying to nuzzle his hand. At least that was what he thought before she opened her mouth, caught his finger between her lips, and sucked on it.
Skye did not appreciate the lack of nourishment provided by Zevris’s finger. Her cheeks reddened, her face scrunched, and she released her displeasure in a cry that belied how small she was.
Tabitha laughed and frowned at the same time. “My poor little girl’s hungry.”
Zevris adjusted his hold on the infant, unable but to smile at her pouting lips. “Shh. Just a moment, little one.”
He waited for Tabitha to situate herself and bare her breast before passing Skye to her. The baby immediately latched onto Tabitha’s nipple, barely needing any coaxing to find it.
Easing himself onto the couch beside his females, Zevris slipped his arm around Tabitha’s shoulders. She leaned against him, tipping her head against his chest.
“I feel like this is the first moment I’ve been able to breathe over the last few days,” she said with a contented sigh.
“Me, too,” Zevris replied.
The doggy door flapped open again, and within a few seconds, both Dexter and Diana were standing before Zevris and Tabitha. The dogs looked at Skye with curiosity. Diana leaned her head forward and gently licked Tabitha’s hand before pulling back and lying at Tabitha’s feet. Dexter paused to lick Tabitha’s hand in the same place before joining his canine mate on the floor.
Tabitha smiled up at Zevris. “Skye’s going to have an army of vicious beasts protecting her.”
Zevris lowered his brows. “You’re including me in that, aren’t you?”
Her smile stretched into a grin.
Skye continued drinking, squirming just enough to work one of her hands free. Zevris moved his finger close, and his daughter grabbed hold of it with surprising strength. As she attempted to shake her little arm, he marveled at her tiny, perfect fingers and their little claws.
“I never could have imagined such beauty anywhere in the universe,” Zevris said softly, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of Skye’s hand, “but I should have known it was possible after meeting you, Tabitha.”
Tabitha shifted one of her arms, tracing the tip of Skye’s pointed ear with her finger. “I’ve got nothing on her. She’s perfect, Zevris. And she looks just like you.”
“I would argue that her perfection is all from her mother’s side,” he replied, lifting his gaze to look at his lifemate, his wife, his love. “Kidnapping you was the best decision I ever made.”
Tabitha laughed. “You should thank Dexter for pooping in your daisies. Otherwise, who knows what strange sort of courtship ritual you would’ve tried in your efforts to woo me. I could’ve been the one who got away.”
Dexter’s ears perked upon hearing his name, and he turned his eyes up at them.
“I would never have let you get away,” Zevris said, grinning. “I would’ve taken you eventually, one way or another.”
“Oh yeah? You wanted me that bad, huh?”
“I would have eliminated every male on this planet if that was what I needed to do to have you.” He stroked the backs of his fingers over her cheek, brushing away the stray hairs and tucking them behind her ear. “You were always meant to be mine, Nykasha.”
Author’s Note
Thank you so, so, so much for reading Taken by the Alien Next Door!
We hope you enjoyed Zevris and Tabitha’s story. And if you did, please let us know by leaving a review on Amazon. Your excited feedback, shares, and reviews will let us know if you’d love to see more in this series.
This book is a lot lighter than all our previous books. Basically…this was our therapy book baby. It was something we really, really needed. Between everything going on in the world right now, a couple bombed new releases, and our own self-doubts, writing has been excruciatingly hard for us for months. We felt like we were losing our love for writing. Every word was so painful, so difficult, and when we’d only reach 1,500-2,000 words after 8-9 hours of work, we felt defeated.
Rob and I wanted to write something lighter, and I just had…a light bulb moment. What if we twisted some of the modern contemporary tropes and turn them into a sci-fi romance? What if we did a story about a sexy guy next door? **Gasp!** “What if—” And the ideas just kept coming and coming and coming for this story, and when we sat down to actually write it…it was fun! I felt like we’d found our love for writing again, and the words just kept flowing. We were excited to start the day, eager to get back to the story. It was as though we found our mojo again. Before we knew it, we were back to writing 4,000-6,000 words a day.
Is this an amazing book? We don’t know. We’ll leave you to be the judge of that. But it’s amazing to us in its own right. This was us finding our love of writing all over again. It was us finding an escape when the world feels like it’s going to poop. It was us relearning what we used to know so well—writing is fun.
But all of you play a huge role in keeping us going, too. We’re always heartened by your wonderful emails, messages, and comments telling us how much enjoyment our books have brought into your lives, or how much you can relate to the stories and the characters, and how they’ve helped you through tragic moments in your life. And when we see our book shared around social media, it seriously makes our day because you loved the story enough to share it with your friends. You all mean the world to us.
So, thank you. Thank you again for following us, supporting us, and staying with us. And if you’re new to our books, thank you as well for reading! We hope you’ll take a peek at our other books and enjoy those, too.
Loved Taken by the Alien Next Door?
Try our Infinite City Series!
Silent Lucidity
Keeping reading for a sneak peek!
Silent Lucidity Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Arthos, the Infinite City
Terran Year 2105
Even amidst the glow of countless signs, colorful, glow-in-the-dark storefronts, and holographically projected advertisements along the street, Twisted Nethers stood apart. There was something more vibrant about its less-than-subtle signage, something warmer in the pulsing lights that accented the building’s edges, something more imposing about the spotlights on its roof that cut through the gloom to illuminate the metal framework and ceiling high overhead.
The massive, ever-changing holographic genitalia out front undoubtedly contributed to its eye-catching nature.
Despite the blatant outward display, the denizens of the Undercity considered Twisted Nethers an exclusive club—it was a place where anyone with enough credits could satisfy their exotic tastes, whether for drinks, drugs, or writhing, naked bodies.
For Tenthil, it was just another stop on a long, blood-soaked path.
He strode toward the club’s entrance, weaving through the crowd of diverse beings who’d gathered outside to await admittance. Their features—as varied and colorful as the Undercity signs—blurred together in the shadows cast by the surrounding neon lights. He walked as though he belonged here, as though he’d frequented the place for years, as though everyone else should’ve felt honored by his presence.
Many of the aliens waiting in line turned their gazes toward Tenthil as he passed. Facial appendages quivered, brows fell low, and mouths opened to voice protest, but all the onlookers kept their opinions to themselves when their eyes dipped to the pin on his jacket.
A street gang calling themselves the Ergoths had claimed this sector as their territory years ago. Drok, the owner of Twisted Nethers and Tenthil’s current target, had close ties to the gang, though the true nature of his relationship with them was unknown.
Tenthil’s pin—a stylized red sun with the white silhouette of an ancient axe at its center—marked him as an Ergoth.
The doorman, a
burly vorgal with scars crisscrossing the drab green skin of his face, glanced at the pin as Tenthil approached. He stepped aside and waved Tenthil in. His mouth, from which jutted double pairs of upward-pointing tusks, remained an expressionless flat line throughout.
The beings waiting for admittance voiced no objections to Tenthil’s entry; though some might’ve been standing out there for hours, they knew better than to question an Ergoth in this part of the city.
Tenthil walked through the door and entered the dark corridor beyond. His eyes rapidly adjusted to the gloom. The black strips of rounded, bulging glass to either side suggested a scanning system—not unexpected for a place like this—and the pair of guards in front of the door at the end of the hallway held auto-blaster rifles that could fill the air with enough heated plasma bolts to melt the surrounding walls within a few seconds. There was no cover here should either guard decide to open fire.
Just a few more obstacles for Tenthil to overcome when he finally decided to make his move.
He drew in a deep breath as he stepped forward and released the amplified bioelectrical field he usually generated around himself; it would disrupt the scanners and arouse immediate suspicion otherwise. Maintaining the disruption field had become second nature over the years, and he felt strange without it in place.
Pulsing bass rumbled along the walls and floor; Tenthil perceived it more as a feeling than a sound, a vibration running up through his boots and into his bones.
As Tenthil drew within a few paces of the door, the guard to his right—a pale-scaled groalthuun with four bone nubs sweeping back from the top of his head and glowing green tattoos on his face—held up a hand. A faint light shone behind the groalthuun’s dark goggles—likely a readout from the scanners on the walls.
Tenthil halted.
The groalthuun twisted and pressed an unseen button on the wall. A small drawer slid out beneath his hand.
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