Chapter Two
Shathar
The human female is visibly disturbed by all that’s been heaped upon her in the last few minutes. But I think she is also intrigued, and that is a good place for me to start.
Bah, if only Khesan weren’t here. I knew it was a bad sign when I ran into him aboard our transport from our home planet, Arshur, but I’d simply assumed he was headed to Earth for the same reason: to meet a human bride of his own.
Not my human bride. Particularly not a human bride that my nose has already recognized as my one. My only.
My fated mate.
She smells like warm sunshine, like a flower whose scent was specifically designed for me. It awakened me, and I felt immediately when my nalopo responded. I don’t even have to look to know that they have emerged, ready to please her.
But now, Khesan is claiming that Fiona is also his fated mate, which is simply impossible. He just thinks that it will help his cause. Not that he needs any help with his good looks.
Before she came in, we were discussing how we both ended up on Earth, matched with the same person, and the stupid little Frahma was defending himself. A clerical error, he kept saying. He wouldn’t tell us which of us was meant to be here.
I know it’s me. That’s the only reason the gods would have tied me to the human woman—if I was the one intended to come here and mate with her.
Khesan is an unfortunate barrier.
“I am happy to prove that I am the best match,” I say with my arms crossed. It will work out as long as the gods are with me, and a fated mate proves that they are.
Khesan growls low in his throat. “I am the best match.”
I decide to say nothing. He is an upstart, the son of a rich man playing at soldier. I might be a much simpler, lower-class Arshurian, owning my own grocery business, but I am far more worldly and certainly more capable of pleasing a mate. It will not take much to convince Fiona that I am the one for her.
I let my fans fall to the sides of my head and relax. The human is intimidated by us, and the last thing I want is for her to fear me. Instead, I try to smile the way that I’ve seen humans do in the many videos I’ve watched.
Her eyes go big—they are an interesting bright blue—as I reveal all of my fangs.
“Wow,” she breathes. “Nice, um, teeth.”
“Thank you.” I have kept them clean and neat, as much as I can. “I will prove I am the best male for you if you give me the opportunity.” I clasp my claws together, hoping to make myself look somewhat softer. Humans are quite fragile creatures.
I hear Khesan growl, but Gazargo holds up one hand and the younger male says nothing.
“Oh, wow, okay,” Fiona says. “Maybe I should learn your name first, though?”
Stupid me. Khesan snickers under his breath.
“I am Shathar,” I tell her, bending my neck and lowering my snout to show my deference. The woman repeats my gesture back to me, which is adorable if incorrect. A female being courted would never bend her neck.
“I am Fiona.”
“Fiona.” I like how it sounds when I say it back to her.
“And you?” she asks Khesan, and I’m irritated at losing her attention.
“Khesan.” He also bends his neck, lowering his snout even farther than mine. “It is wonderful to meet you, Fiona, the song of my heart.”
My eyes just about roll out of my head.
Fiona covers her mouth. “Ah,” she says in a high-pitched voice. “A poet.”
Khesan peers up at her, then lowers himself farther, down onto one knee.
“It is not poetry, but what I really feel.” He clasps his hands to his chest. “When the gods decide, it is final. I will do everything in my power to show you how I am the mate destined for you.”
