Chapter 8
8
T he scent of coffee hit Eira before she even entered the LMP orientation room. It smelled like real coffee—rich and complex, not the synthetic stuff they’d rationed on the colony. Her steps faltered in the doorway as memories washed over her: James bringing her precious cups of the real thing after double shifts, saving his credits for months just to see her smile.
She forced her feet forward. The orientation room stretched before her, all gleaming surfaces and subtle lighting that made everything look soft and expensive. Women were already settling into the horseshoe of chairs, their quiet conversations not detracting from the tranquility of the room. The fabric of her new station-issued clothing whispered against her skin as she moved, strange after years of rough mining gear.
“Help yourself,” a woman gestured to the drink station, her LMP uniform crisp and pristine. “We’ve got about ten minutes before we start.”
She nodded her thanks and headed that way. Her hands trembled a little as she lifted a ceramic mug. The warmth bled into her fingers as she added a splash of cream, watching it spiral through the dark liquid. Such a simple thing, but her throat tightened. When was the last time she’d had real cream? Before Kyle got sick, before the corporate takeover, before...
“First day?”
She turned with a start, nearly sloshing the precious coffee. A woman with silver-streaked hair smiled at her.
“I’m Vivian. Come sit down, you look like you could use a friendly face.”
The chairs were padded, and she sank into one in relief. “I’m Eira,” she managed, taking a careful sip. The rich flavor bloomed across her tongue. “And yes, first day.”
“Colony girl?” Another woman leaned in, her perfectly styled hair marking her as station-born. “I can always tell. You have that look—as if everything here is too clean, too bright.”
“Horizon P-8742,” Eira admitted.
Vivian’s eyes widened. “One of the outer systems colonies? We’ve had several women from that way on lately. Things must be getting worse.”
Eira’s fingers tightened around her mug. “Yeah. You could say that.”
More women filtered in, their clothing ranging from practical to fashionable, but all of it was pristine. Eira smoothed her hand over her own outfit again, the fabric cool and slick beneath her callused palm. She’d scrubbed her hands raw this morning and slathered them in moisturizer, but years of mining work had left their mark. It would take time for the skin to soften.
A woman moved to the front, her movements precise and practiced. “Good morning, ladies. I’m Madeline Lyman, and I’ll be guiding you through your orientation to the Latharian Mate Program.” The display screen behind her shimmered to life. “Let’s start with the basics of how our matching process works.”
Eira sat forward. She needed to understand everything—her children’s future depended on her making the right match. The coffee warmed her stomach, steadying her nerves as Madeline began to explain the algorithms that determined match compatibility.
“The process combines genetic analysis with psychological profiling,” Madeline’s voice carried through the hushed room. “When you registered, we took DNA samples and had you complete extensive questionnaires. This data is processed through algorithms developed by both human and Latharian scientists to identify optimal matches.”
The diagram on screen reminded Eira of mining equipment schematics—each component precisely calibrated, working in harmony with the others. The familiar patterns of technical analysis eased her mind. Made her relax slightly.
“We don’t just look for basic compatibility,” Madeline continued, flicking through slides rich with data. “The genetic analysis identifies potential pairs whose DNA patterns complement each other in ways that promote healthy offspring. But of equal importance is the new psychological matching algorithm we run. Using it, we check everything from personality traits to cultural values, from life goals to parenting styles.”
Parenting styles. The words jolted through Eira. Her pen paused above her datapad. They considered parenting compatibility in their matches. That had to mean?—
“But what about their wealth status?” A sharp voice cut through the silence in the room. “Surely that’s a factor in matching? Some warriors must be more... established than others.”
Eira turned to see a younger woman in an outfit that probably cost more than six months of Kyle’s medication. Her manicured nails tapped an impatient rhythm against her thigh as she stared expectantly at Madeline.
“As I was explaining, Aisha,” Madeline’s professional smile didn’t waver, though something in her tone suggested she’d had this conversation before, “the matching process focuses on compatibility factors that lead to successful long-term partnerships. Financial status is not one of our primary considerations.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” Aisha snapped. “How can you ignore such an important factor? Some of us have certain expectations about our future lifestyle.”
The air in the room shifted as several women exchanged looks. Vivian leaned closer to Eira and whispered, “She’s been here three months already. Keeps rejecting matches because they’re not highly ranked enough.”
Madeline cleared her throat, the sound cutting through the rising murmurs. “Let’s move on to discuss the courtship process.”
The screen changed to display a timeline overlaid with intricate patterns that reminded Eira of Lead Technician S’aad’s mating marks. “Once a match is identified, you’ll begin a three-day courtship period. This is a sacred tradition in Latharian culture, one that unfortunately died out as the Lathar had no women, but has now been resurrected.”
Despite Aisha’s continued huffing, Eira was drawn into the explanation.
“During these three days, your matched warrior will court you according to their traditions. This includes sharing meals, participating in activities together, and the giving of gifts.” Madeline smiled.
“Gifts? What kind of gifts?” someone asked.
“That varies by warrior, but they will be something meaningful to them personally. Something that represents their hopes for your future together.” Madeline smiled. “The warriors take this process very seriously. They’re not just trying to impress you... they’re demonstrating their commitment to building a life together.”
Aisha’s hand shot up again, her rings catching the light. “But what if we don’t want to wait three days? What if we already know they’re suitable?”
“The courtship period is mandatory,” Madeline’s tone was firm. “It gives both parties time to evaluate the match properly. Remember, this isn’t just dating... you’re laying the foundation for a lifelong bond. There is no divorce in Latharian culture.”
Eira’s pen moved across her datapad, noting details. Would she need childcare during these activities? She could ask Leo to get the younger two to nursery and pick them up if the dates were in the day, but what about at night? And how would her potential mate react to three children? Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to focus as Madeline continued.
“During this time, you’ll have opportunities to ask questions, learn about each other’s backgrounds, and discuss your expectations for the future. The warriors will want to know about your interests, your goals, your family?—”
“Even if we have children?” The words escaped before Eira could stop them. “From... before? Previous relationships?”
Several of the other women murmured, and Madeline’s expression softened. “Especially then. Latharian warriors consider the care of children to be one of their highest callings. If you have children, your matched warrior will want to know everything about them, like their personalities, their interests, and their needs. Many warriors see raising children, even those not biologically theirs, as an honor.”
Relief flooded through Eira. She thought of Maax with Emily, how naturally he’d handled her tears, how carefully he’d explained the station systems to Kyle... The memory of his deep voice explaining power indicators to her son sent an unexpected warmth through her chest.
Stop it, she told herself. She couldn’t assume she’d be matched with him just because he’d been kind to her children once.
“This is all very touching,” Aisha cut in, “but surely we have some say in who we’re matched with? I have a very specific type in mind, and I won’t settle for just any warrior who?—”
“Oh, shut up, Aisha.” The rebuke came from an elegant-looking lady near the front. “Some of us are trying to learn something here.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Eira noticed several women exchanging glances as Aisha huffed and dropped back into her seat.
“She’s a pain in the ass,” Vivian whispered, though her tone held more frustration than sympathy. “She’s already turned down three matches. Keeps holding out for someone with more status.” She shook her head, silver hair catching the light. “Warriors aren’t like human men—they don’t care about showing off their wealth. It’s all about honor and duty with them.”
“The last one was that nice operations lead,” another woman murmured. “Can you imagine? Turning down a man just because he wasn’t command staff?”
“Ladies,” Madeline called their attention back to the front. “Let’s focus on the next steps in the process. Once you’re matched, you’ll receive?—”
The door slid open with a soft hiss, and they all turned at the interruption. A Latharian technician stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the room. Half the women around Eira sat up suddenly, their attention locked onto him.
“My apologies for the interruption,” he said into the sudden silence. “But is Lady Coleman present?”
She wasn’t used to hearing herself called ‘Lady Coleman.’ The mug trembled in her hands as she set it on the small table beside her chair.
“Yes, I’m here.” The words came out steadier than she felt.
“Would you come this way? A match has been identified for you.”
The room erupted in surprised whispers.
“Already? But she just arrived...”
“Must be a strong match...”
“Lucky thing...”
She caught a glimpse of Aisha’s face, tight with barely contained fury. Three months of waiting, and here was Eira, matched within a day.
“Well,” Vivian hurried over to squeeze her arm as she reached the door. The other woman’s touch was warm and reassuring. “That’s a good sign. Quick matches usually mean high compatibility scores.” Her smile reached her eyes. “Good luck, dear.”
“Thank you.”
Eira followed the technician out on shaky legs, her mind whirling. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast? She wasn’t prepared. She needed more time to understand the process, to figure out how to present herself, to process all the information about courtship and gifts and?—
“Lady Coleman?” The technician paused, looking back at her. “Are you ready to meet your match?”
No. No, she wasn’t ready at all. The weight of the past pressed against her shoulders—James’s death, years of struggling just to keep her children alive. But maybe that was the point. Maybe being ready wasn’t about feeling confident or certain. Maybe it was about being willing to take the next step anyway, for the sake of those who depended on her.
She stiffened her back, the way she had before every difficult repair job, every confrontation with Paul, every time she’d had to be stronger than she felt.
“Yes,” she said, and meant it. “I’m ready.”
The door whispered shut behind Eira as the technician guided her into what looked more like a living room than a meeting space. Light spilled from hidden panels in the walls, bathing the room in warmth that caught on the flowers in the crystal pitcher in the middle of a low table. Comfortable couches clustered around it, their rich fabrics inviting… if she hadn't been as nervous as hell.
"Please, make yourself comfortable, Lady Coleman." The technician smiled as he gestured to the seating. "I just need to confirm a few details before we proceed."
She perched on the edge of one of the couches, fingers locked together in her lap to hide their trembling. The fabric beneath her felt so soft, so different from the hard extruded seating she'd known for years. "Your full name is Eira Marie Coleman, formerly of the Horizon P-8742 Colony?"
"Yes." The word came out steadier than she felt.
The technician's fingers danced across his datapad. "And you understand that this initial meeting is to determine if you wish to proceed with the courtship period with this warrior?"
She nodded, then realized he was waiting for a verbal answer. "Yes, I understand."
"Excellent." He nodded. "I should mention that while this room offers privacy, it is monitored by our staff. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or wish to end the meeting, simply say so. Someone will intervene immediately."
"Thank you," she managed. "I appreciate knowing that. But…”
"Yes?" The technician looked up from his datapad.
"I thought all the warriors in the program had been vetted and were no danger to the human women signed up?" She was sure she'd read that somewhere in the documentation. Fairly sure… She blinked. They wouldn't put the women in danger, would they?
The technician folded his pad under one arm, his serious expression softening. "They have, Lady Coleman. There is no need to worry, and you are perfectly safe. The monitoring is for your comfort and reassurance that you can halt the meeting at any time. Some of our warriors can be a little… intense when you are not used to them, but they are not dangerous to you."
She nodded, picking up what he was saying. Dangerous to them, but that didn't mean not dangerous. They were all warriors, after all.
"Your match will join you shortly." The Latharian technician moved to the door, then looked back over one leather-clad shoulder. "Lady Coleman? Please try to relax. The algorithms are very good at what they do."
She nodded, and the door closed behind him, leaving her in the silent room. But she couldn't stay still, bouncing up out of her seat to stalk around the room. Her fingertips trailed along the back of the couch as she gravitated toward the window dominating one wall. Earth hung below, almost too perfect to be real, but breathtaking all the same.
Clouds painted spirals across the planet's face like the mineral veins she'd chased through rock back home. The cool glass steadied her palm as she braced against it and looked down on the view, trying not to think about the moment the door behind her opened. Any second now she'd meet him… the warrior she'd have to marry, the alien who might help raise her children. She bit her lip, worrying at the tender flesh as panic rose in her throat.
What if he resented children not his own? What if he turned out like Paul, all smiles in public but darkness and cruelty behind closed doors? The Latharians seemed honorable, but… what did humanity really know about them?
Her reflection stared back at her. New clothes, hair neatly pulled back, and no dust on her skin… She looked nothing like the mining technician she'd been just days ago. Any moment now they'd realize she didn't belong in this pristine room with its filtered air and perfect furniture and kick her out, sending her and her kids back to the colony.
The door hissed behind her as it opened.
Shit. This was it. Her heart lurched in her chest, terror locking her muscles. She couldn't turn. Couldn't face whatever waited behind her. Couldn't?—
"Eira?" A familiar deep voice filled the room. "Thank the gods."
Her knees almost buckled as relief flooded her veins, and she turned. Hardly daring to breathe, she lifted her gaze to find Maax's massive frame filling the doorway, his amber gaze burning into hers with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs.
"You're my match?"
"It would appear so." The smile transformed him, softening the severe lines of his face and making her heart stumble. "It seems the algorithms know what they're doing after all."
He had been so gentle and patient with Kyle yesterday, and the careful way he'd handled his daughter Emily's tears… All her fears about meeting a stranger, about having to explain her children to someone who might resent them, evaporated in a heartbeat.
"I hoped—" The words escaped her lips before she could catch them. His expression sharpened with interest.
"You hoped?" He stepped inside, the door closing behind him. Predatory grace filled his movements, but she wasn't scared of him. "You hoped what?"
Heat burned across her cheeks. "When we met yesterday in medical... I… well, I hoped it would be you."
Her words were soft, little more than a whisper as she looked down at her clasped fingers, but his sharp intake of breath told her he'd heard.
"Please," he rumbled as he gestured to the couches, "sit with me?"
The couch dipped under their weight as they settled at opposite ends. She tucked one leg under herself, facing him. Such a simple movement, but she couldn't stop looking at him. Electricity crackled in the air between them.
"This is..." She searched for words. "Different from what I'm used to. The whole process is odd."
"Different from human courtship?" Curiosity roughened his voice as he leaned a heavily muscled arm across the back of the couch but didn't touch her.
"Very." She smiled. Would it be too forward to lean back so he touched her? "Humans usually take longer to decide about relationships. James needed six months just to work up the courage to ask me to dinner."
She bit her lip as the words left her mouth. Oh shit, what was she doing, mentioning her late husband? But when she glanced up, the big alien warrior didn't look annoyed.
"Tell me about him?" The request surprised her. "About your life before, with him and the children?"
"You... want to know?"
"Of course." His hand slid across the cushion between them, palm up in clear invitation. "They're part of who you are, Eira. Your past, your children… I'd like to know all about it."
Her fingers trembled as they met his. His massive hand swallowed hers, his touch whispering across her skin with a gentleness she would never have expected in such a large man.
"Well… James was a good man," she said. "He was a mining engineer and he loved the kids more than anything. Always said they were the best thing we ever did together." Grief tightened her throat for a moment. "After the accident... things got harder. The corporation denied compensation, claiming he violated safety protocols. But he would never?—"
"I know." His thumb traced the back of her knuckles.
Her gaze cut up to his. "You do?"
Had he read her files, even the ones that the colony had released?
He smiled, the skin at the corners of his unusual eyes crinkling slightly. He was older than she'd thought he was at first. His face didn't show it, but his eyes did.
"I've seen how you are with your children. You would not have chosen a mate who was careless."
The simple certainty in his answer made her eyes burn at the backs, and she blinked to clear them. "The kids still miss him. Leo especially. He's had to grow up so fast, trying to help me keep everything together."
"He's very protective of his siblings," Maax said. "I noticed it yesterday in medical. The way he positioned himself, always keeping them in sight." His lips quirked at the corners. "He has a warrior's instincts."
"He's had to be." The words rushed out now, in a tumble that she couldn't stop. "Things got so bad after James died. The corporation kept raising costs, cutting services. Kyle's medication alone..." Her throat closed around the words, and she shook her head, looking up to search his expression. "That's why I came here. Not to get married again, but for them. They deserve better than struggling just to survive. I'm sorry if that…"
She trailed off, looking at her hand in his. How did she tell him that she hadn't really wanted to get married again, but that she was doing it for her kids? Not for him.
He reached out with the other hand, tucking a strong finger under her chin to make her look up at him.
"You left everything you knew, sacrificed yourself to give them a better life," he said, something that sounded a lot like pride in his deep voice. "That takes real courage, Eira. And I am honored to be matched with a female who has such strength."
He straightened, formal dignity settling over him even as he cradled her hand in his. "I want to court you properly. Show you I can be what you need… what your children need."
Her heart stuttered at how naturally he included them. "What does that mean? The orientation covered some of it, but..."
"Three days together. Meals, activities - chances to learn each other." His thumb drew soft patterns on her palm that sparked tingles on her skin. "Have dinner with me tonight?"
Reality crashed back. "I need to find childcare first. They're still adjusting to the station, and?—"
"Bring them," he said quickly. "I'll bring Emily too. The children should be part of this from the beginning."
His expression softened. "She's already talking about playing with Grace again."
Hope bloomed in her chest as she looked up at him. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Mind?" Offense flashed across his face. "Eira, raising three such children would honor any warrior. And Emily..." His voice roughened into a low burr. "She needs a mother. Someone gentle and understanding, who knows what it means to protect those you love."
She blinked back tears. What could she say to that?
"There's a restaurant in the garden level," he carried on, giving her some space to steady herself. "The viewing dome shows the stars, and children can play within sight. Emily loves watching the fish in their aquarium displays."
Her throat tightened. "That sounds perfect."
His answering smile transformed him again. She squeezed his hand, savoring the connection until the station's chime broke the moment.
"Oh draanth," he murmured, looking at her. "I need to collect Emily from nursery. Shall I come to your quarters at 1800 hours?"
"Yes." The word felt natural. Right.
They stood, and he towered over her. Her breath caught in her throat as he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. "Until then, Lady Coleman."
"Until then... Lead Engineer."
She watched him, unable to believe what had happened as he walked to the door. And, okay, she might have checked his ass out in all that tight leather as he did, but she was only human.
He turned at the door and caught her checking him out. His soft chuckle filled the air.
"Eira? I hoped it would be you, too."