Chapter 3
Misty
Cats.
She had mated into a species of cats.
And, okay, yes, she was a cat person, but she had never looked at any of her pets and thought, oh, I could tap that.
Except, there was a world of difference between her sweet little boy – The General – who was angry and unhappy in his travel crate, and the huge, saber-toothed cat men surrounding her now. She felt like she’d just walked onto the scene of a movie.
Except, no way. The sky was purple, not blue. It was light, like a blush of purple, but it definitely wasn’t blue. The grass beside the path was bright, healthy, and a gray-ish sort of blue. The air itself didn’t smell like Earth. It was bright and clean and nice, but the scent wasn’t a familiar one. If she had to identify it, she’d say it was maybe floral? But it lacked the natural wildness of a floral smell she was used to.
And the cat guys weren’t humans in costumes. She couldn’t convince her eyes that these were people under suits. Their fur was too close to their body, their faces didn’t have that stiffness that came from prosthetics and heavy makeup. They had little muzzles, sure, sporting those long ass saber teeth – most of which had at least one metal band around them – but they twitched and moved. The difference was so stark between them and CGI, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to look at a human done up in movie makeup and be convinced again.
Intellectually, she knew that she’d be going to another planet today. She knew that she was going to be meeting the new aliens she would be spending her life with. But actually being face to face with the reality of the large, furry, strange people only hit as she was coming to a halt in front of the two males who stood apart from the others, both of them looking at her expectantly. The rest of the group, meanwhile, were rushing around, unloading her stuff, working. They must be staff here at this huge mansion – which she was not processing right now, she was still trying to grasp everything else.
Because if those people were workers, that meant one of these two guys was her mate.
And, honestly, she didn’t know which one.
Her first thought was that they looked the same to her. A thought that was immediately followed by a rush of shame and disappointment. All her life surrounded by the casual racism of a small white town and that was her first thought upon meeting another species?
But then reality caught back up to her, and she realized it wasn’t just her. These two really did look alike. While the people moving around with her luggage or standing back, looking at her with calm, impersonal expressions, came in a variety of fur colors – white, orange, brown, black – the two in front of her were both black with whites at the tips of her ears.
They were the same size, with the one on the right being maybe just a bit taller. Either way, they both stood a full head over her. The biggest difference between them, besides what they wore, was that the one on the left had bright, gleaming yellow cat eyes, while the one on the right’s were green. They were equally beautiful though.
And the longer she looked, the more subtle differences appeared. The one on the right had stockier, blockier features, and he was more muscular under the thin, delicate, beautiful silk robes they were both wearing. The one on the left’s robe was blue with an abundance of embroidery in the body that seemed to depict bright flowers. The one on the right’s was green, rich and dark like an emerald, and appeared to depict trees with golden brown and rich mahogany leaves. The complexity of the embroidery was stunning. The kind that couldn’t be replicated en masse by a machine. But to do all that by hand had to have taken months, if not years.
These guys also really liked their bling. Everyone was decked out like they were trying to wear as much as possible, going past tacky and into eccentric. Like an ancient Persian king upon his throne, or a pharaoh adorning himself like a god, they gleamed.
The guy on the left had a sash made of gold chains across his chest. There were hoops in his ears and a single gold band around one of his teeth.
The guy on the right had long, looping silver necklaces that only accentuated the surprisingly defined muscle lines in his fur visible through the gap in his robe. Thick bangles encircled his wrists. One ear had silver hoops, but the other was dotted with silver studs. The bottom of which hooked to a chain that dangled down.
Both of them were wearing little nasal caps. The guy on the left had a golden one with sparkling yellow gems where his nostrils should be, while the guy on the right had a silver one with white gems. In fact, everyone was wearing those nose caps. How did they breathe through those things? It looked like they blocked off their noses completely. They weren’t ugly. They had delicate filigree lines reaching back over the muzzle, decorating them even further. They were just odd.
The male on the left cleared his throat, stepping forward. Oh, so this must be her mate.
“Hello, Misty Miles from Earth,” he greeted formally. “I am Davard, assistant to the char and steward of the Glass and Fellbud Manors.”
“Nice to meet you,” she smiled. “So, you’re my mate, huh? You’re not bad looking. They should have said you were handsome. I would have been more excited.”
To her dismay, a look of obvious horror crossed his alien face and he was quick to stammer, “N-No, honored charina! I am not your- No! Th-This is your mate here. May I present to you the honorable and noble char of all Kree, Tsok. This is your mate.”
Oh, dang it.
Misty winced, quickly turning her smile on the second guy. Who was just as attractive, in her defense! Were they brothers or something?
“Wow! Even better!” She declared, trying to cover for her gaff.
An attempt that was met with a tight smile. At least, she thought that was a smile. The corners of his muzzle pulled up slightly anyway. However, he also took that opportunity to fold his arms together in his wide sleeves, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was some kind of sign that he was already closing himself off from her.
“Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn’t know what you looked like. And you both look so similar!”
Tsok, her mate, frowned, sharing a look with the other guy.
“We certainly do not,” Davard said, and she winced again.
Crap, maybe she was being unintentionally speciesist. This first meeting was certainly off to a super great start.
“Sorry,” she mumbled again before clearing her throat and gesturing with her cat carrier. “Er, this is my cat. The General.”
That certainly did the job of catching their attention. She had purposefully translated the name. Her cat’s full name was General Newton Von Fuckface – but she had never felt comfortable putting that on the line at the vet. Even if it was extremely accurate. He was clearly the reincarnation of Newton with his love of testing gravity by knocking everything off every available surface, and he was also an absolute asshole sometimes, to a degree that was definitely planned and intentional, practically militant in its complexity and malice. However, the full name was a bit of a mouthful, and not really suitable for company. So, she just called him The General.
Which had the added bonus of being a name that she could translate into her new alien tongue! She had been implanted with the language as part of her immigration process. She might get a second one later, the more widely used Standard that was, as the name implied, the standard language for all the Coalition. For now, however, she’d been given the native tongue used most here on Kree. And The General’s name translated just fine, and was apparently just as funny as it was in English.
“Here. See.” She smiled, holding up the carrier so that Tsok, her mate, and The General, her beloved, could meet each other for the first time.
Tsok drew back, the fluffy ears on his head going back in surprise as, from within, The General let out a loud hiss followed by a demonic growl.
“Aw, he likes you,” she smiled as the crate shook when The General smacked the front.
Tsok gave her a look like she was mental as she lowered her cat back down. He didn’t attack again, but the low level growling continued.
“He’s just nervous,” she explained. “It’s a lot of changes. Cats are creatures of habit, you know. He’ll calm down once he realizes you’re not a threat.”
Davard didn’t appear comforted by her words. He was giving the crate a look like he fully expected it to pop open and a vicious monster to come rushing out to devour them all. Which might happen. The General was a muscular cat. Not fat, not chunky. He was beefy. Always ready to throw paws. She wasn’t sure if he did like kitty kung fu while she was gone or something, but her cat was a beast.
“He will not harm you?” Tsok asked. The pleasant rumbling of his voice made her shiver. He wasn’t unattractive to look at, but that voice was awesome. She wanted to listen to him talk. She didn’t really care what he said.
But the fact that the first thing he did was be concerned for her made her smile.
“The General loves me. He’s never scratched me on purpose.”
“On purpose ?” He repeated, not missing that particular nuance.
“I mean, cats have claws. They scratch.” She shrugged. “Kind of their thing. But he’s harmless. Mostly. If he doesn’t think you’re a threat. He’s not that big. You’ll be fine.”
Davard was still not convinced. Tsok however, gave a thoughtful hum of understanding.
“I see,” he said. “Very well. It is a pleasure to meet you, Misty Miles. And your cat, of course. I am your mate, Tsok.”
“Nice to meet you too,” she smiled, nearly bouncing on her heels. Excited. This was the moment she met her soulmate! And sure, it was a bit of a rocky start. But The General was doing a great job of distracting them from her faux pas. And she really wasn’t disappointed in the male looking down at her now. If she had to pick between him and Davard, she definitely would have chosen him.
So, what was going to happen first? Hugs? Maybe he’d ravish her! She was okay with that. It had been a long time since she had a good ravishing. That seemed like just what the doctor ordered to deal with the stress of her life from the last few days.
Part of the process to get her here had involved a birth control method wherein they just stopped her ovaries from popping out eggs. She was so down with that because it also stopped her period, and she had always hated dealing with that bloody time of month. She could easily turn the egg factory back on again when she was ready for kids. Which, according to the lecture she’d received on mating before coming here, was likely to be right after the mating bond snapped in place. It was part and parcel of the whole mating gig – a breeding urge.
Which she naturally had anyway. She loved a good, deep, hot creampie. Holding a guy close. Feeling him filling her in and out. After the ravishment, of course. Hot and sweaty sex led into the best sweet, soothing cuddles.
And while she didn’t have any kids, and only one late period scare, she was pretty turned on by the idea of some guy wanting her so badly that he just had to pump his baby into her. Added into it the monstery edge of it being an alien doing it? Oh, hell yeah. She was down bad, ready right now. Let’s make dirty, nasty love, Mr. Saberteeth. She bet those big, long fangs would feel great against her inner thighs.
“Well, I shall leave you to get comfortable.”
“Huh?”
Wait. What?
Tsok inclined his head to her. “It is nice to have met you. Please let Davard know if you need anything. He’s been given orders to accommodate whatever you need. Within reason, of course. Though, I trust you can take care and regulate yourself. I’ll let you know when I need you for any official functions no less than three days in advance so you can schedule the rest of your activities around them.”
Misty blinked, not sure what was happening.
“Davard, take care of my mate,” he declared to the other male.
“Yes, honored char,” the slightly shorter one responded formally.
And Tsok walked off.
Just like that.
He just left .
Misty stared after him, slack jawed in stunned amazement. That was not what she expected, and she had gone through every possible scenario she could think of since finding out that she had an alien mate in the first place.
Shy and cutesy. Hot and sexy. Hell, she was even looking forward to instant tension and annoyance with each other. That kind of thing turned into such hot sex.
She was not prepared for absolute indifference.
Because what else could that be?
Tsok didn’t look back. He walked away, something shifting under his robe that made her think he was hiding a tail under there. His ears didn’t even twitch in her direction. Dare she even say, he looked happy as he left her there after saying hello like he was greeting a new colleague at work. What the hell was up with that ?!
Okay, she needed to calm down. Take a deep breath. Maybe this was like a cultural thing. Was that just how the kreecharma did things? Meet your mate and run? Leave her wanting more, kind of thing? Or like a suppressed Victorian deal, where he was not supposed to let her know how much he actually wanted her.
Or maybe he was just an asshole.
Or, worse, she winced. Maybe he just didn’t care .
Davard stepped into her field of vision, blocking her view of Tsok’s back as he left her alone like so much trash.
“Honored charina,” he greeted her formally.
That must be her title. She hated it. Immediately. She did not want to be associated with that guy who just walked away from her. Not enough to share his title. And not until he proved that this little meeting here was a big misunderstanding.
“Hey,” she jerked her head up at Davard, not liking him either. Not for any particular reason. Just because of his association with Tsok. “What’s up?”
Davard cocked his head. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Yeah, I realized that even as I was asking. You’re the one taking care of me?”
Davard gave her a soft, kind look. Tender. Not like a man in love. More like a grandfather looking upon his most darling granddaughter. She wasn’t sure she was entirely comfortable being looked at like that by a total stranger.
“May I give you a tour?” He asked, gesturing forward. “This is Fellbud Manor. It’s the palace of the charina. Meant only for you. We’ve given you the grandest room on the top floor. It’s considered a place of quite important historical significance…”
Misty immediately tuned the dude out. She was sure he was saying something that would, otherwise, be interesting. But she did not have the brain space to spare right now to appreciate anything of what he was spewing as he led the way inside, between assuring her that the others would bring the rest of her belongings in and put them in her room. She could oversee the unpacking, of course. Like it was just naturally assumed that she wouldn’t need to actually do it herself, but he understood that she’d also want to make sure it was done right.
Which, yes, she would. And she would appreciate his thoughtfulness later, she was sure, but she definitely did not now. When her gut wasn’t tight with disappointed hopes and she didn’t feel like the world was one big sinkhole, dragging her down.
This really couldn’t have gone worse.