The soup-filled dumplings arrived, proving to be as satisfying as he remembered. Vanessa continued to speak between slurps and nibbles. Normally he’d be entertained by his quiet mate’s excitement, but he could not shake the sense of being watched.
“I’ve only been on Sangrin once before. Unfortunately, my layover was in the middle of the night, so the garden was closed,” she said.
They would go directly to Stanelle’s home. Vanessa would be disappointed, but he knew the layout of the house and could protect her there. She would understand.
A male entered the shop. His size and general bearing said Mahdfel, even though he was not from a clan Jaxar recognized. Red skin and mouth tusks snagged Jaxar’s attention. He was unfamiliar with the male yet knew him, somehow.
“You got to be fucking with me,” Vanessa groaned.
Vanessa
Of all the dumpling shops in the galaxy, he had to walk into hers.
Melodramatic much?
Oh, sure, but it wasn’t every day that your alien ex-husband turned up with a huge smile on his face.
Just to be clear, a huge smile on Havik’s face was terrifying. The two large canines jutting up from his bottom jaw made sure of that.
Jaxar stood, knocking a ridiculously small chair back in his haste. Havik halted his approach, but he did not back down. The air crackled with tension. The server disappeared behind a counter.
“How long did you follow us?” Jaxar demanded.
“Too long. Your skills are subpar.”
More growling. More posturing. The testosterone—or the alien equivalent—was palatable.
“Right, whatever this bullshit is, it stops now. I’m too hungry for this. Sit. Eat.” Van grabbed her spoon and scooped up a dumpling. “Havik, order something so it’s not weird,” she said, focused on her dumpling and not her ex-husband.
The big red guy huffed but sat. Jaxar growled, looming over their little party to make a point.
Yeah, yeah. Big bad scary Jaxar. Got it.
“Sit. Please,” she whispered. Reluctantly, he complied, and the tension eased in the shop. The server magically delivered a gigantic bowl of noodles in broth to Havik and the other patrons in the shop returned to their meals.
Van chewed slowly, needing a moment to check herself.
She looked at Havik. Really looked at him. His face had grown lean, not just losing the boyish roundness but becoming gaunt. Dark eyes appeared flat and dull. His hair had grown out, no longer carefully pulled back in a long plait but wild and unkempt. In short, he looked like shit.
Her ex ignored the soup, sitting with his hands folded in his lap like their conversation was a test or an interview.
Van felt nothing for him. That much was blindingly obvious. She had been angry for so long that she mistook it for heartache, but no. Whatever had been between them, it wasn’t love. Not even close. As cheesy as it sounded, she tasted the real thing and a thin imitation would not do. Her love and devotion for Jaxar were lightyears beyond the dinky little camaraderie she had with Havik. Yup, nothing.
“Why is Vanessa hungry? You have failed to attend to her basic needs,” Havik accused.
Okay, she felt some annoyance toward Havik.
“As you saw to her needs when you abandoned her,” Jaxar retorted.
Not gonna lie. Her heart went a little soft for her man.
“Explain why you’re here and following me like a creepy ex,” she said.
“I am not a creepy ex,” he protested.
“You are,” Jaxar said.
Growl, growl. Snarl, snarl.
“Knock it off with the dick measuring,” she said. Jaxar placed a hand on her shoulder, covering the location of her old claiming bite. “Subtle,” she hissed. “Now can you chill?”
He huffed but said nothing. Good.
“I did not abandon you,” Havik said.
“Pardon me?” The calm sense of detachment Van felt vanished and indignation filled the void. “When I needed you…” The words stuck in her throat. “I needed my friend and you sent your father to break up with me. That was a damn cold thing to do.”
The red of Havik’s complexion intensified, shifting from brick to cherry. Hopefully, that meant he was embarrassed, as he should be. His father disliked Van for reasons she did not understand, and her father-in-law never bothered to hide his disdain. He practically danced for joy when he delivered the news about dissolving the marriage and sending her back to Earth. “You do not know—”
“How much the warlord needed his bloodline to continue? His precious son could not be burdened with a useless female,” Van said, quoting the warlord’s cruel words. “He explained it all quite clearly.” The warlord had hardly spoken two words to Van the entire year she had been in his clan, but he had no shortage of things to say when it came to everything that was wrong with her and why they had to send her back to Earth.
Jaxar took her hand and laced his fingers with her own. That simple gesture pulled her thoughts out of the negative spiral.
Havik’s lips pulled back into a sneer. The tusks always gave his mouth a scornful look, but that was just his resting jerk face. “The warlord informed me that both you and the child had been lost.”
The new information should have rocked her with disbelief—everything she had been led to believe was wrong—but it fit. The warlord hated her and did what he had to do to get rid of her. “He lied to you. Your father lied to you?”
“He is not my father.” His voice rose in volume. When the other patrons flinched and dishes clattered on tables, he cleared his throat. Calmly, he took a sip of the soup. A brow rose in appreciation. When he finally spoke again, he had regained control of his voice. “I no longer recognize such a dishonorable male as my father. The warlord lied to me and now he is no longer my warlord.”
Jaxar gasped. “You left your clan?”
“What choice did I have? When I found out my fath—the warlord’s deception, I could not tolerate being there.”
Van’s blood sugar must have been low, or it was the different oxygen level on the planet, but the information sluggishly turned over in her mind. “But how? Why would you believe a lie like that? If you thought I was dead, why didn’t you demand to see my body? Or our son? He was so small.”
She cupped her hands together to demonstrate. In all the time that had passed, she hardly thought of the child they lost. It hurt too much, but the words tumbled out of her. Havik hadn’t been there. He did not see, and the pain festered into a boil, demanding to be lanced. “The medics tried to save him, but his lungs were undeveloped. He was too little. Didn’t you want to say hello and goodbye to him?”
They hadn’t even discussed names.
Shit. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking for all the world like he hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in years. “I went on a walk.”
“I was in the hospital for a month,” she snapped.
“It was a long walk.”
Her hand squeezed Jaxar’s and she whispered, “Do you got something to cut this bitch with? Because that bitch needs to stop with the smartass answers. I’m not in the mood for trifling fools.”
A short blade with a wicked curve, no longer than his palm, landed on the table.
That would do.
“On Rolusdreus, when your heart cries, you walk through the sands until it heals,” Havik said. “My father—the warlord—told me he would prepare the bodies for cremation. I walked for three months. When I returned, he presented me with your ashes.” He scrubbed his face again, muttering. “Someone’s ashes. I was such a fool. I should have done as you say and demanded to see you, but…” He sighed and held up a hand in surrender. “I was young. I believed my father. I have no excuse. I am sorry for what he said, and I cannot forgive myself for letting it happen.”
Fuck.
Fuuuuck.
Van turned away, looked up at the ceiling, and pressed a paper cloth to the corners
of her eyes. How embarrassing.
Jaxar’s warm hand rested on the back of her neck. It was a display of ownership, but it anchored her. “You are distressed. Do you require this offensive one’s fingers severed? It is no burden.” The purr in his voice implied that severing fingers would be a pleasure.
A disturbed chuckle warbled in her throat. This was her life and that was her man. He ninja’d right over her defenses and charmed her before she knew what happened.
How was she so lucky?
Van sucked in a deep breath and faced Havik. “This sucks. I feel bad for you and I don’t want to feel bad. It was easier being mad at you.”
“I do not believe this tale,” Jaxar said. “How did your clan keep such a secret? Were you willfully blind? Or just an imbecile? And you happen to be on Sangrin? Today of all days?” His tone grew hostile as he continued to rattle off problems.
“It was not the clan’s secret to keep. They believed as Vanessa, that I had turned my back on my mate—” His voice wavered, showing emotion for possibly for the first time ever. If he had a crack in his icy veneer at any point in their relationship, she might not have believed the warlord’s lies. “I did not understand why my clan turned cold toward me. Lifelong friends accused me of being dishonorable. It made no sense. When I learned the truth, I set off for Earth immediately, but you had disappeared.”
Van tried to picture what would have happened if she had hung around on Earth long enough for Havik to find her. Nothing good. She’d be back in a relationship that lacked genuine affection and she would have never found Jaxar. Sure, she’d miss out on a lot of gross stuff and some explosions, but she wouldn’t have the good stuff either. They wouldn’t have had that night watching the shields come online like tiny exploding stars. Or cuddling in the luminescent ruins of the Night Garden. No Esme. No Hillam bossing her around. No awkward Fennec, stumbling over his words and blushing.
No Jaxar to wake her up early to make sure she ate a good breakfast. No strong arms to carry her to bed when she fell asleep watching a dull as dirt documentary. No grins or teasing jokes to lift her mood and make her laugh.
She loved how Jaxar made her laugh. Not having that in her life felt wrong on every level. They had only known each other for a few months, but she could not imagine going on without him.
“Being married to you once was barely tolerable. I wouldn’t have done it again,” she said to her ex-husband.
“Better than tolerable,” Havik said, prompting Jaxar to growl.
“If you had shown up on my doorstep instead of that sleazy contractor, I still would have slammed the door in your face. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
“There is no second chance for us?”
“None.”
“Because of him,” Havik said, looking pointedly at Jaxar.
“Because of us,” Van said. “We never talked. We had nothing in common. Your family hated me.”
“They did not know you.”
“Neither did you! They never lost an opportunity to complain about my fragile little human constitution. Always picking and digging at me and you never stopped them. Not once, Havik.” He flinched. “It wasn’t a healthy relationship for either of us.”
“I mourned you,” he said. “Then I searched for you. Now I have found you.”
“Havik, what do you think is going to happen here?” Van asked.
“You are my mate. You will return home with me,” he said in a tone that implied it was obvious.
Yup. So not happening.
Van pushed her chair away from the table. Part of her understood that Havik wasn’t going to lunge across the table, kidnap her and drag her back to a life of… whatever they had. At the very least, Jaxar would throw himself between the two, never allowing Havik to lay a hand on her. While they grappled and growled and whatever grown-ass alien men did when they were fighting over a girl, she’d sneak away. Okay, she’d run. Van was totally down with running away.
“Vanessa.” Jaxar gave her a nod. He was good for the grapple and growl plan. God, he was such a good boyfriend. She needed to put a ring on that.
“There’s not some legal tricky-trick here,” she said, wiggling her fingers like she was performing in a magic show. “We’re divorced. The warlord, your father, signed off on it. Earth certified it and gave me a damn piece of paper with a seal, updated my chip, and put me in a database. We are divorced and we’re going to stay that way.”
His matte black eyes sparked for a moment and his nostrils flared. She refused to blink. He didn’t like her attitude, but she had zero fucks to give.
“It does not seem correct for my mating to be dissolved without my consent,” he said.
Welcome to her world. She married him without her consent.
“Don’t act like you’re all torn up about it. You weren’t even looking for me, not that it matters because fuck you,” she said, the last of her patience wearing thin. How much time had they wasted with Havik’s drama? There was a thousand-year-old plant to ooh and ah over. Time to wrap this up. “Besides, you were just hanging out at the station, eating hot dogs,” she added, because she didn’t know how to shut up.
Jaxar tilted his head. “Again, with consuming the hot canines?”
“It is most curious,” Havik said.
They shared a look.
Right. This had to stop now.
“Can I see you in my office?” she said, grabbing Jaxar by the hand and dragging him through the restaurant’s kitchen until they exited into a service corridor.
Chapter 21
Jaxar
“You do not have an office,” Jaxar said.
“Figure of speech.” She pushed him against the building’s exterior and kissed him roughly. It was all teeth and too much tongue, but the feral part of his mind responded to her urgency. If his mate needed this to chase away the last half-hour, he would give it to her.
“I will not let him take you,” he said, his voice coarse and husky. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, stretching her up to her tiptoes to meet his demands. They flipped places and he pushed her against the wall, planting one hand next to her hand to cage her in.
“So not happening.” Her words came out breathy and thin. He paused, concerned. She grabbed his hand and placed it in the center of her chest. “Here. Feel my heart. I’m fine.”
The steady rhythm was accelerated, but that could be explained by her blown pupils and the musky scent of arousal.
He felt confident he knew what his female wanted, or at least what her body desired, but he had to be certain. He needed to hear the words. “Vanessa—”
“Fuck, I love the way you say my name. It feels like rolling around in bed all day and stinking of sex, just dripping with it. We should be doing that.” Her hands fumbled with the front of his pants.
He covered her hands with his own, pausing her frantic action. “Is this what you want? With me? If you have remaining feelings for your former mate, I will…” The words tasted bitter in his mouth. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “I intended to say I would respect your decision because you do not like it when another imposes their will on yours, but I vowed to not mislead you. I refuse to let you go so easily. I will fight for you, Vanessa, and I’ll never stop fighting until you tell me to.”
“Thank you,” she said. Her fingers dug into his hair and squeezed at the base of his horns, temporarily ceasing all higher-order thinking. “I wanted to see some ancient alien plants today. I want to learn how to cook something from scratch that actually tastes good. I want to start my damn thesis and get my degree. I want you, just you, and maybe a dog.”
“Me?”
“I just want to leave my mark on you, so everyone knows you’re mine.” She gave another squeeze, this time pulling him downwards and pleasure shot through him, right down to his toes. “Get my scent all over you.”
His cock twitched at her possessive words. “If you must.”
She laughed; her voice thick with d
esire. “Right now. I can’t wait.”
They fumbled with her pants and undergarments, kicking them off in a rush. Jaxar sank to his knees, ignoring the questionable filth on the floor, and focusing on his mate’s smooth, bare thighs. He hiked one leg over his shoulder and pressed her against the wall.
Her taste exploded on his tongue, sweet and savory, and he needed more of her, every drop, and everything she had to offer. Her grip tightened on his horn, directing him. She reached her climax hard and fast and he drank it up, not stopping until she sighed and released her hold on his horns.
“I choose you, Jaxar. I want you,” she said.
He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, lifting her as he cupped her ass. Her legs wrapped around him and he pressed her against the wall. She was delicious, especially dazed on pleasure. Nipping at her neck, he tasted first the unblemished side, then moved to the side with the fading bite. He had promised to mark the other shoulder, but the feral part of him wanted—needed—to replace the bite with his own, to erase any prior claim to his mate.
Her breath hitched in her throat.
His mate.
“Do it. Bite me. Make me yours.” Vanessa arched her back and exposed her throat, her heart beating fast but not frantic.
She offered him everything he wanted.
It was not right.
“Vanessa,” he said, pulling away.
Hurt flashed in her eyes and he cursed himself for putting that hurt there.
“Don’t you want me?” She fumbled with the opening of his trousers and had his cock in her hand. Already dripping with precum, her nimble fingers spread his slickness around the head and down his shaft. “Fill me up with your cum? Claim me? Let everyone know that I belong to you.”
She stroked him, his eyes fluttered shut and his mind unraveled. He could do it, fuck his mate in a filthy alley—or was it a corridor? —and sink his fangs into her. He’d savage her shoulder so that no male would ever speak to her again or have the cojones—such a good Terran word—to openly flirt with his mate.
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