Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Zingar
I swear. If I get stuck at this noisy club on this hazy planet for as long as my friend Bamgin did… I don’t know what I’ll do, but my frustration is growing, and I’ve only been here four nights.
The club is so loud. The music grates on my nerves. The females are annoying. Every night it’s the same thing. They pack in here to drink and dance, all so they can get a look at us.
I feel like I’m some sort of fascinating art on display.
On Earth, they have circuses where people go to see animals in cages.
That’s how I feel. Zoom is like a cage. We aren’t permitted to leave the club.
We come down from the mothership in pods, land on the roof of one of these clubs, enter from there, and never step outside a single time.
It’s probably for the best, considering how polluted this planet is. I don’t want to inhale the air here anymore than necessary. I wouldn’t dare eat or drink anything. I’d hate to even step on the sludge that lines the streets.
I shudder at the thought. What I see on the television makes me cringe.
They say it would be too distracting to have us out wandering around among humans. Dangerous even. I get it. Humans have weapons we aren’t familiar with. Humans are not a peaceful people. A lot of them aren’t even kind.
The females I’ve seen are mostly catty and fake. Most of them come here wearing ridiculous outfits meant to entice one of us. I’ve come to realize a lot of them would give anything for one or two of us to take them upstairs, fuck them, and send them home.
It’s the oddest behavior. I can’t grasp why anyone would do that. Why would they want to be intimate with someone they don’t even care about? But it’s the norm for Earth.
Humans “hook up” with other humans. They have sex.
They don’t always know each other’s names.
Mindboggling. They don’t have firm commitments.
Even their marriages are flimsy. When they get tired of one another, they simply get divorced.
It’s not a word we use on my planet. It’s not even a concept. We don’t break our bond with our mates.
Eleadians don’t “hook up” with anyone ever. The only person I will ever be intimate with will be my mate, and I won’t even be choosing her. Fate will. When the right female walks through the door, I will know it, and so will she. That will be it for us.
I smirk. It’s not like I haven’t also witnessed my fellow Eleadians finding their mates.
Three nights ago, Bamgin and Nanish found themselves fated to the same woman.
Unheard of. And yet it happened. Now I’m wondering if I, too, might be stuck on this forsaken planet for weeks on end, waiting for some other Eleadian male to arrive so we can bond to the same female.
There are females in Club Zoom I’ve seen more than once, and I’m starting to wonder if one of them could actually end up being my mate. What if the reason I’m not scenting her as mine is because we’re both waiting for another Eleadian male to cinch the deal?
I glance at the clock on the wall behind the bar. It’s eleven. I’ve been standing here for three hours tonight. I took up residence at a spot at the end of the bar, leaning against it, and I haven’t moved since.
There are two other Eleadian men on this first floor with me tonight.
Skarg and Kafran. They’re friends from home and have been talking to each other on the other side of the dance floor while females hover around them.
I’ve wondered a few times if I might have to share a female with one or both of them.
If so, we certainly haven’t met her yet.
I’m pretty sure no less than two hundred females have taken my picture. Some of them have simply snapped a shot. Some have angled up next to me to take a selfie. Others have handed their phones off to friends to take a snapshot of us together.
Brazen girls. They lean in far too close.
Smooth their hands up and down my chest and arms. A few really audacious females have even slid their palms down to my thighs.
I’m certain they would literally stroke my cock if I let them, but I always stop them before they go that far.
Gently deflecting them is the name of the game.
I’m huge compared to these humans. Seven-foot-six.
And I’m not just tall. I’m broad and muscular.
We Eleadians resemble human males in nearly every way, but we’re proportionately larger.
I have to assume that extends to our cocks.
I’ll never really know. It’s not as though I’ve seen a human dick other than in photos, nor do I intend to.
There are two reasons why none of us lose our temper while visiting Earth.
One is that we have been told it is not allowed.
It’s one of the primary rules. It’s important to maintain an appearance so that no one ever leaves a Club Zoom with tales of having met someone who was rude or mean.
We have a reputation to uphold. It’s a rule instilled by our government. Not Earth’s.
The second reason why we aren’t more combative is that it’s simply not in our nature.
We are a peaceful people. The only time in my life I’ve ever been inordinately frustrated has been these few days on Earth.
I assume our government knows the sorts of trials Eleadians face on Earth—confrontations we are not accustomed to.
Thus the need for perplexing rules of engagement that are baffling until we witness firsthand how humans behave.
I glance around the crowded room again. I’m tense. It’s hard not to be. The volume. The perfume. The fake smiles. The proximity. The stickiness that is all over the floor. The list is long.
I get why we draw a crowd. We’re different. People want to get a look. They take a risk in doing so, but they can’t resist.
Two females push through the gaggle gathered around me. They don’t even ask before they flank me. One of them holds up her phone and takes a quick selfie. Neither of them even look me in the eyes or attempt to talk to me. They giggle as they walk away.
Sometimes I wonder if they think they won’t get chosen if they don’t make eye contact. It doesn’t work that way, but if they want to believe it, I won’t stop them because it prevents me from having to interact more than necessary.
I’m torturing myself by standing here. I’m not interested in dancing.
That’s never going to happen no matter how many females try to lure me out onto the crowded floor.
I tell myself I’m doing my part for the planet by allowing myself to be a spectacle.
The more photos circulate, the more females will want to come and see for themselves.
I don’t really care if half of Earth sees me on their strange social media sites. Eventually I’ll be long gone.
As the minutes pass, the clientele grows more and more drunk. From what I’ve noticed the past few nights, the early crowd always seems to be less inebriated. Some of them simply come in, look around, stare for a few minutes, and then leave.
It’s for the best. No reason to encourage anyone to stay. As soon as one of them enters the premises—often before they get much past the doorman—it’s obvious to every Eleadian on site that they are not a match.
No female could possibly step into this crowded room undetected if she is the fated mate of an Eleadian. Perhaps if one of us had yet to descend from our apartment on one of the upper floors, but even from the control room on the second floor we would know if our mate entered the building.
So the turnover of bodies is higher earlier in the evening. Females come and go. They stare, jaws hanging. They take pictures. Many approach to touch us. Then they leave, which frees up space for others to enter the club. There’s an occupancy limit. And I’m certain the place is at capacity now.
With a sigh, I run a hand down my face, take a deep breath of nasty air, and hold it.
My gaze darts to the door every patron comes through after signing a waiver. I’m still holding my breath when I spot her. In that one second, my entire world shifts.
It’s her. My mate. My other half. The female Fate chose for me to spend centuries with.
I can’t move for long seconds as I watch her. I want to take this in, absorb this moment, and never forget it. I’ll cherish it for my entire life.
She has no idea yet. She’s not programmed to recognize our connection as fast as me. Soon she will feel it as strongly as I do, but it takes time. It’s a foreign concept to humans and difficult for them to accept.
My mate has only moved a few feet into the room. She’s alone. That’s uncommon. Often these girls come to the club in groups or at least with one friend. My mate is not toting an entourage.
She’s scared. I know it’s not reasonable, but I feel like I can sense her elevated heart rate from here. She’s also stunning. Granted I would think so no matter what. That’s how I’m wired. After days of standing here with no reaction to any female, my cock is hard.
Brown curls hang past her shoulders. I suspect if I were to pull on one, it would extend nearly twice as long.
Big brown eyes peer around the room. I get the oddest sense that her nerves have nothing to do with the fact that this is specifically Club Zoom.
I don’t believe she’s used to entering a club at all.
Why are you alone, Little one?
She’s not dressed like most of these females either.
She has on jeans and a navy cardigan. It’s wrapped tightly around her, so I have no idea what she might be wearing under it.
Her arms are crossed below her breasts, so I can’t even discern how large her chest might be. Not that it matters to me one bit.
I hate to take my eyes off her, but I quickly glance around to see if any of the other men currently waiting to find their mates have also homed in on my Little girl. They have not. Skarg and Kafran are deep in conversation with each other.