Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Naomi
Sunlight filters through the window of the guest quarters.
I blink awake slowly, disoriented for a moment. The bed is soft beneath me. Sheets tangle around my legs. My naked body aches in places I didn’t know it was possible for me to ache. There’s a pleasant soreness between my thighs that reminds me of everything that happened last night.
Last night.
Oh wow. I was at a Costume Ball on the planet Timbur. A strange mist filled the entire venue and then…
I turn my head and see a naked, enormous Xylan miner. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I went to a gigantic party last night, threw back a few too many drinks, performed an alien marriage ceremony and find a new husband in bed next to me. I had no idea I could be so impulsive.
He’s still asleep, his massive body taking up most of the bed.
One arm, the good one that’s still working properly, is draped possessively over my waist. The other is encased in a healing kit, propped up on a pillow.
His chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm.
In sleep, the hard lines of his face have softened slightly, making him look almost peaceful.
Almost.
Even unconscious, there’s something dangerous about Bayzon, the leader of the Fever Brothers mining crew.
The sharp angles of his jaw, the ridges on his forehead, the fangs that peek out from his slightly parted lips.
He’s alien in every way, massive and powerful and nothing like any man I’ve ever known.
And he’s mine.
The thought sends a flutter through my belly.
How is this my life? Twenty-four hours ago, I was nervously arriving on Timbur to see my friend and her new family.
Now I’m mated to an alien mining crew leader, possibly pregnant, probably accepting a new job through Minecorp and apparently staying on this planet for the rest of my life to work and live.
I should be terrified at these drastic life changes. Having a complete breakdown. Instead, I feel... settled. Like I’ve finally found the place I was always meant to be.
My tablet buzzes on the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts.
I groan and reach over carefully, trying not to jostle Bayzon’s injured arm. The screen shows a series of messages from Leah, sent over the past several hours.
The first one, from late last night: Oh my gods Naomi. I can’t believe what just happened. Are you okay? Text me when you can.
Then, an hour later: Saxon says the claiming went well and you’re at the med lab getting Bayzon’s arm fixed. HIS ARM. You broke his arm!!! I need details.
And another: Okay we’re heading home. Everyone in the ballroom is awake now. We’re exhausted. But PLEASE text me in the morning. I need to know you’re okay. I feel responsible for all of this.
The most recent one, from just a few minutes ago: Naomi??? Are you alive? Saxon’s brothers keep sending pictures of Bayzon’s broken arm to the family group chat and laughing about it. Apparently this is a GOOD thing??? Xylan are so weird.
I can’t help but laugh. I tap out a reply: I’m alive. More than alive. I’m... really happy, actually.
The response comes immediately: THANK THE GODS.
How are you feeling? That all happened so fast. I’d managed to return to the ball right at the end because I really wanted to be there when you won the grand prize.
One minute we were watching you two dance and then the mist came and everything went crazy and suddenly you were clasping hands and I was so worried you felt pressured into it.
I smile at her concern. I didn’t feel pressured. I know it sounds insane, but it felt right. Like it was supposed to happen.
You’re sure? Because Saxon’s family would have knocked Bayzon out and gotten you off planet if you’d said no. They made that very clear.
I know. I heard. And I love them for it. I pause, then add I love HIM. Is that crazy? We just met.
Nope, not crazy in the slightest. Girl, let’s not forget that I married Saxon on my first day of work at the mine, after we were falling to our deaths on a broken lift.
Xylan pheromones are no joke. A string of laughing emojis follows.
But also, I’ve known Bayzon for years now.
He’s grumpy and intense and terrible at expressing emotions, but he’s a good male. He’ll take care of you.
I grin. He already has.
Okay I’m going to need the full story later. ALL the details. But for now, rest. Recover. Enjoy your new husband. She adds a winking emoji. We were supposed to have a family lunch today but I’m guessing you two need some alone time?
Yes please. Maybe in a few days?
Take all the time you need. Welcome to the family, officially. Love you.
Love you too.
I set the tablet down and roll onto my side, studying Bayzon’s sleeping form.
Gods, he really is magnificent.
His shoulders are impossibly broad, his chest a solid wall of muscle covered in smooth, golden skin. He’s the same color as my favorite coffee, with lots of creamer. The scratches I left on his chest last night are still there. He’ll probably wear those with as much pride as the broken arm.
The broken arm.
I shake my head. I still can’t quite believe I did that.
The memory surfaces, vivid and surreal, of me running through the dark tunnels of the mine, my heart pounding, the small crystal clutched against my chest to hide its glow.
I could hear him behind me, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, his growls echoing off the walls.
The primal fear of being hunted warred with exhilaration.
And then that heavy lab door with the manual shutting mechanism.
I’d spotted it at the last second, some desperate instinct taking over.
I hadn’t really thought it through, hadn’t considered that his arm would be right there, reaching for me.
I’d just slammed my palm down on the control and them I literally heard the crack of bone breaking.
The look on his face through the small window.
I’d been horrified for about three seconds. And then he’d grinned at me, actually grinned, with blood dripping from where he’d bitten through his own lip from the pain, and I’d known that somehow, impossibly, I’d done something right.
I think about what came before the chase too.
The mist rolling in, thick and white and glowing in the darkness of the eclipse.
The panic as bodies dropped around us. Losing his hand in the chaos, stumbling over sleeping Xylan, being crushed under the weight of two males who’d passed out on top of me.
And then Bayzon found me. His hands running over my body, checking for injuries, his voice rough with fear.
The moment we’d both looked down and realized our gloves were gone and our bare skin was touching.
I remember the heat that flooded through me at that contact.
Like lightning racing up my arm and settling deep in my core.
I’d known, in that instant, that everything was about to change.
“Does this mean that we are...?”
“Yes.”
Such a simple word. Such an enormous consequence.
But I don’t regret it. Not for a single second.
When he’d kissed me there on the floor of the cavern, surrounded by sleeping strangers, the mist swirling around us, that was when I knew this wasn’t just pheromones or alien biology or some cosmic accident. This was right.
He’d been so worried about rushing me, so apologetic about the accidental clasping, promising he’d meant to court me properly. And all I could think was, why wait? Why delay something that feels this inevitable?
The chase through the mine had been terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
Running blind through unfamiliar tunnels, knowing he was behind me, knowing he would catch me eventually.
My human instincts screamed at me to hide, to escape, while something deeper awakened the moment our hands touched—I wanted to be caught.
And when he’d finally cornered me in that med lab, his broken arm hanging useless at his side but his eyes still blazing with a dark hunger.
.. I’d fought him. Really fought him, not just going through the motions.
I’d bitten, scratched and kicked because some part of me understood that this mattered.
That my resistance was a gift I could give him.
The claiming itself is a blur of sensation and emotion.
Yes, it hurt like hell when he plunged that huge, leaking cock inside of me.
I was so very wet and ready though. Pain and pleasure were so intertwined I couldn’t separate them.
His weight pressing me into the cold floor.
The way he’d paused to make sure I was alright, even though I could feel how desperately he needed to move.
I definitely remember experiencing the best orgasm of my life.
And now I want him all over again. This time, slow and deliberate.
I reach out and trace a finger along his jaw, careful not to wake him. The ridges on his forehead are fascinating. I want to learn the landscape of his face, map every unfamiliar feature until it becomes as known to me as my own reflection.
His eyes flutter open at my touch. Gold, flecked with amber, still slightly glazed with sleep. Impossibly long, dark, eyelashes. “Female,” he rumbles, his voice thick and gravelly. “You’re staring at me.”
“I’m admiring my new husband,” I correct. “I’m allowed.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Husband. I like that human word for mate.”
“Good. You’re stuck with it now.”
He shifts, wincing slightly as the movement jostles his injured arm, and pulls me closer with his good one. I settle against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. His heartbeat is slow and steady beneath my ear.
“How do you feel?” I ask. “Does it hurt?”
“The painkillers are excellent,” he admits. “I feel almost nothing.”
“Almost?”
“I feel you.” His hand slides down my back, coming to rest on the curve of my hip.
Heat pools low in my lower belly. “Bayzon...”
“Mmm?”