With his hand on the door, Amity asked, “Even me?”
He paused before answering.
Patience. Kindness. Humility.
He leaned on those virtues plenty in the last half year, finding meaning on a deeper level and learning the value of humility. Amity left her career and friends on Talmar for him and the kits without hesitation. She adapted to a simple life without the modern conveniences. She drove an hour to meet his bride, even while believing it to be a mistake.
Her kindness humbled him.
“You are always welcome in my home, sister.”
Kalini
Kal sat quietly at the kitchen table, listening to the sounds of the house as the family settled down for the night, replaying the dinner conversation in her mind. Considering she felt like a right Nervous Nelly, the evening went well. The children could be a handful and she had limited experience with kids, so all things considered, dinner had been a success. Merit had been firm yet patient with the children, which she liked. Amity remained a bit of a mystery. One minute she’s sweet as pie, the next she’s landing not-so-subtle jabs about Kal being in over her head.
She knew that. She really didn’t need a sister-in-law to rub her face in it. She’d have a hard-enough time fitting in—
She knew that, too. Abstractly. Merit had a full life and an empty spot waiting for her to slide in. While they exchanged messages and photos, the situation remained abstract. He had children. He needed a partner. If she viewed the situation with cool detachment, he advertised for a vacant position, and she sent him her CV. Everything looked good on paper.
How many times had looking good on paper turned into a right mess for her?
She knew all that but, yet she didn’t, not really. Meeting him and his family in person laid her naïve optimism bare. It could be amazing or a massive mistake. She wasn’t sure yet, but she saw the shape of the role he expected her to squeeze into.
She really hoped this didn’t turn out to be a square peg, round hole situation.
She wondered how much of this could be actual nerves and how much was just exhaustion heightening her worries. The shuttle crew warned her that changes to gravity, oxygen, and even lighting could affect her physically and alter her mood until her body adjusted. Earlier in the day, her body ran on adrenaline. She could sense the crash coming and would need to sleep soon, but not yet. She had a little bit of energy left in her.
Glass panels like the ones in the master bedroom lined the western facing wall. Kal slid it opened and stepped out onto a stone-paved patio and into the warm night air. Much like the rest of the house, it was simple and functional. A bench without a back sat alone.
She sat, letting the sound of the evening surround her. Crickets, or whatever the Corravian equivalent was, chirped in the dark. The stars cast a soft, silvery sheen. She never saw the stars on Earth—never had the time and never went someplace far away from light pollution.
She really did it. She left Earth.
It didn’t feel real yet. Despite the long journey, it felt like a holiday in her mind, completely overlooking the fact that she never took a lengthy holiday in her adult life. Everything was similar but just different enough to surprise her. The chairs at the table, for instance, accommodated tails with an open back. Tufted, backless benches and stools sat in the living area. The air smelled different, of unknown flowers and plants. It even felt different, like it had more oxygen.
Or that could be the lack of pollution, Kal thought.
“Found you.”
Kal jolted at Merit’s voice. “Sorry. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
She twisted on the bench to face him. The lights from the house created a halo around him, casting his features in shadow.
“The kits took longer to settle down tonight than usual,” he said. “Drink?”
“Sounds marvelous.”
In a few moments, Merit joined her on the bench and handed her a glass of chilled wine. A fruity, sweet aroma met her nose when she sniffed.
“The alcohol content is minimal,” he said.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit of a lightweight.” She took a cautious sip, the tart, and sweet flavor bursting on her tongue. Often at the end of the workday, she’d share a round of drinks at the pub, but she stuck to low alcohol beverages. Her job had been hard enough. She didn’t need the added trouble of making a drunken spectacle of herself.
“Do you find the marriage contract satisfactory?” he asked. The agency had supplied with a standard marriage license, valid within the Interstellar Union and would be honored by several other planets. The contract aspect was a list of requirements, restrictions, and expectations for their marriage. Kal had signed the initial agreement while still on Earth. They then negotiated the finer points terms while she traveled to Corra.
“Yes,” she said. Nothing stood out as unusual. Kal remained in control of her property and finances, as did Merit. They would share responsibility for housework and meal preparations. She was expected to act as a guardian for the children, which she had no problem with. Sex would happen if and when they mutually agreed upon the activity. Both parties would not seek recreational sex with a third party. At the end of a year, either party could seek to terminate the marriage contract. The document was a dry, clinical read and left little room for messy emotions. Just as well. Kal preferred to be logical about the situation.
“I can’t think of any amendments at the moment,” she said.
“Good. Good.” He took a drink, staring off into the night. “How do you want to start?”
With a kiss.
She surprised herself. Normally she fell on the conservative side when it came to, well, sex and physical affection. Perhaps the hectic dinner with the children put her at ease. It felt delightfully normal and ordinary. Or perhaps the wine was stronger than she expected.
Kal sipped her wine, considering her response. Beginnings were tricky. They set the tone for the entire relationship. “We don’t have to be so formal. We can trade turns asking and answering each other’s questions,” she said.
His posture relaxed. “You first, please. There must be so much you want to know.”
True. Kal couldn’t hold her most pressing question, “Does Amity live here?”
“You are blunt.” He chuckled into his glass.
“Sorry. I’m being incredibly rude.” What a start. She wondered if she could possibly fit her other foot in her mouth, too.
“I appreciate your forthrightness. It is a quality that is appreciated here.”
“Some would say I’m a right ball buster but go on with you. Forthright,” she said, lending warmth to the word.
“To answer your question, she does not. Amity came to Corra after the kits lost their parents, to help me find my feet. She will return when we are settled.”
Good to know that the sister-in-law wouldn’t be hanging around to judge and criticize.
“She wants to take the kits to Corra,” Merit said in a cool voice. His tail lashed behind him.
“Women typically do get custody of children, at least they do on Earth,” Kal said.
“She was not named guardian. She has only been to visit once—once! —since Dare was born. She is a stranger to the kits. How could I let them go? I am all they know.” He ground out the words, ears pressed flat against his head. That couldn’t be good.
Ah. She’d waltzed her way into a power struggle between two siblings over children. No wonder Amity kept giving her the evil eye over dinner. “I’m sure she wants what’s best for the children,” Kal said, voice mild.
Merit shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “Forgive me. Amity and I traded words upstairs. She has always known how to work her claws on me.”
“Family. You fight, but you still love each other.”
“Spoken from experience?”
“Let’s just say I gave my parents grief in my teen years.” As a teen, Kal mouthed off to her parents and pushed boundaries by breaking curfew. They had
rows when they took away her network access. She swore her life was over and she’d never speak to them again. She even claimed that she found cricket incredibly boring and hated playing with her father. Her words broke her father’s heart that day but through it all, Kal knew, deep down, that her parents would always love her.
“I do not know if I will ever come to an accord with Amity about the kits.” The displeased rumble returned.
Early on in their correspondence, Merit shared how he became the guardian for his niece and nephew. His brother died in an accident, and his sister-in-law passed unexpectedly in the weeks after. The children lost both their parents in short order. She understood why Merit resisted sending them away with an aunt they had barely known at the time.
Kal couldn’t understand everything about the obviously complex family dynamics, but she knew how lost and anchorless she would feel if she suddenly found herself an orphan and sent off to her aunties.
“Having two people fight over who gets to love you more isn’t so bad. Dare and Clarity know they are loved,” Kal said.
Merit tilted his head to one side as he considered her words. “This is not the conversation I intended on having.”
Deeply flattered that he felt so comfortable opening up about the mess with his sister, Kal shrugged a shoulder. “How about we start again? Stick to basic, boring questions.”
“A good suggestion. Did you enjoy your account position in a financial firm?” he asked in a forced, mild tone.
Kal glowed with appreciation that he remembered all that, despite the initial chaos of their meeting. “No. It was dreadful. Absolutely soul-crushing dreadful.”
“Then why continue to do that work?”
Because rents were expensive. Because she liked numbers. They made a rational, predictable pattern in her brain and brought order to the world. “Dealing with numbers was brilliant. The office culture, though, was suffocating. How about you? Enjoy your job?”
Merit gave a short nod. “It can be unpredictable, but I enjoy the hunt.”
“Right,” she said. “What exactly do you do?”
“Forgive me. I am a Hunter, contracted with the provincial government and oversee the local Watchtower. Our mission is to eliminate mornclaws and other aggressive predators that could negatively impact business and economic growth,” he said in a flat, scripted tone.
“Monster hunter. Got it.”
He chuckled. “Hardly. I can take you to the Watchtower tomorrow. The team is desperate to meet you.”
“Could do,” she said. Visiting his workplace and meeting his colleagues sounded good.
He nodded, as if that settled the matter. “Do you intend to work outside the house? There’s always a use for a mind good with figures.”
“Probably, once I get settled. I like to stay busy. I’ve never been one to lounge around, not even on a day off.” Her lack of holidays and social life proved it. The journey ate up a fair chunk of her savings. She certainly didn’t want to be financially dependent on Merit, just in case their relationship soured and she needed options. She rented out her flat in London, and that pulled in something every month. Having her own income meant having options. “What brought you to Corra?”
“The quiet,” he answered after a long moment.
“You became a monster hunter for the peace and quiet?”
His tail sneaked up from behind and brushed against her hip. “Sorry,” he said absently when Kal jumped. “It has a mind of its own. To answer your question, I completed two tours with the Talmar military, as did Prospect. I took an injury and settling somewhere peaceful sounded appealing.”
“An injury?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Worried I’m not the perfect male specimen?”
Kal rolled her eyes. “Just trying to express basic empathy but go on. Make it about me being shallow and you marginally less good-looking.”
She paled, suddenly afraid that her words sounded harsher than she intended. She liked him, truly, and found him as easy to talk to in person as they did via messages, but it was too early for teasing and joking. “That was unbelievably rude—”
His tail brushed against her hip again. The gentle touch assured her that he was teasing. “As long as we agree I am very attractive,” he said, voice warmed with humor. “I took shrapnel in my left thigh and knee. Not the worst wound in the galaxy but not one I’d like to repeat.”
“Does it pain you?”
“Not anymore.”
They sat in comfortable silence. Kal accepted a refill on the wine, enjoying the sounds of the summer evening.
“What brought you to Corra?” he asked, repeating her question with humor.
“I met a guy,” she replied playfully, bumping her shoulder into his. “In all seriousness, I had a string of horrible dates.”
“The males you courted you were unsatisfactory?”
“You mean were they gits? Yes. Right proper gits. My mum had always wanted to set me up with the sons of her friends, but I wasn’t interested. Not then. I wanted to focus on my career.” Kal could still hear her mother casually say mention that so-and-so’s eldest son did well for himself and had grown up to be so handsome. They should invite him around for tea some night. Kal always declined. “By the time I was interested, my parents had passed. I decided to try my luck with dating apps, but that didn’t turn out so well. The last bloke was married. Married! His wife came to the restaurant. I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I was so mortified.”
“This male already had a mate?” Horrified shock laced through his voice. His tail lashed the air.
“Exactly! What a wanker. Then I saw a Celestial Mates advert. My family is gone. My friends have families of their own. I already told you how I loathed my job. I decided to let a professional help me out and be open to the possibility of my perfect match being anyone, anywhere.”
“I like the possibility.”
“Me too.”
Their bodies angled toward one another. It could have been the wine, the stars, or the relief that he was as pleasant in person as he was on paper, but Kal found herself leaning in toward him. He radiated warmth and a soothing presence that made her want to snuggle up next to him.
His face fascinated her with his strong jaw, the amber stripe that bisected his right eye, and the convex slope from his brow to the bridge of his nose. Those sharp amber eyes focused on her. She should have felt some degree of awkwardness, but she found herself meeting his gaze, and smiling with the joy of it. She could easily lose herself in their warmth.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.
“I really think you should,” she replied.
He leaned in, finger under her chin to tilt her face up, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Questioning at first, the kiss deepened. His tongue swiped at her lips, demanding entry and she opened for him. Desire sparked in her core. She wanted more of this. Of him. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, holding her tight against his rumbling chest. Any question about mutual attraction had been answered.
He pulled away, a pleased grin spreading across his face. “We should go to bed.”
Kal broke into a fit of coughing. Sex was inevitable. Hell, she eagerly looked forward to it. They were adults. They were attracted to each other. They were married. They were, also, strangers. “Excuse me?”
“To sleep.” He rubbed her back as the coughing subsided. “We have an early day, and the kits never sleep in.”
Back inside, Kal changed into her nightdress in the cleansing room. Merit had a pillow under one arm and a blanket in hand. He wore just a pair of loose sleeping pants, displaying the dark amber striation across his chest.
A wide, thick V stretched from shoulder to shoulder, dipping down between his pectorals. The rest of the pattern extended down his abdomen like an arrow, down to the waistband slung low over his hips. A trail of dark hair drifted down toward his navel. Wispy dark hair in matching coloration ran in a thin line from his elbows down to
his wrists.
Merit was different, yes. No number of pamphlets, biology textbooks or videos could prepare her for the way her fingers tingled, eager to touch him and explore.
Kal completely forgot about how she must look in an old oversized shirt with a stretched-out collar because he looked so damn amazing. She briefly wondered about the injury he took that ended his military career. The damage had to be limited to his knee or leg because the parts of him that were on display looked fit and healthy.
He smiled, a little arrogant because he knew how he looked, and a little amused because she stood there with her mouth hanging open.
“We should have sex,” she blurted.
“Excuse me?” He grinned as he parroted back her earlier words.
“I, um, sorry. Not tonight, but eventually. I just want you to know I have every intention of this being a marriage in the fullest sense.” What that entailed—skin on skin contact, bodies slapping against each other— distracted her thoughts. Her gaze drifted to the floor and focused on his bare feet. He was so big, and his feet were massive. You know what they say about big feet.
Big feet, big d—
“Kalini?”
“Sorry. I got distracted there. I wanted to say the sex is natural and part of any healthy relationship, and I’m sure you’re really good at it. Really, really good.” She lost focus and just stood there, blinking.
“Are you feeling well? Extended space travel can make you groggy.”
And say things you didn’t mean to say out loud.
“I’m sorry.” Kal shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “You’re very attractive, and I’m very… something. Whatever this is. Look, the point is I don’t want to have sex tonight.”
“I can sleep on the floor if you’re worried that I’ll pounce,” he said.
“God, I like the sound of pouncing,” she said, inhibitions and better judgment gone.
His grin intensified. How was that even possible? Was she having an allergic reaction to the wine? Or just a cheap drunk? He said the wine contained a minimal amount of alcohol but here she was, blathering every thought that entered her head like a bloody idiot.
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