Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Trunk
Ileave the annoying and yet fantastically beautiful human journalist in her room and head straight for the common area where my brothers have gathered. I do my best to forget about the shiny curls on her head or the pout of her lips.
I tug at my green gloves, irritated that I have to wear these in my own home simply because we have a guest I didn’t even want.
The other females and a few of my brothers are still at work but will be returning very soon. Lila wrangles the little ones in the back rooms. I can hear Zora’s high-pitched shriek of laughter followed by Lia’s bossy toddler voice telling her to share. Normal chaos.
What I’m not used to is a journalist sleeping under our roof.
My brothers look up when I enter the main room at the front of our compound.
Cannibal, Claws and Hook still remain at the mine, finishing up a stress test. The rest of us are home early today, having met our quota early.
Chief adds logs to the fire. Heavy leans against the wall with his arms crossed, scowling.
Scar sits in the corner, watching everything with those too-sharp eyes.
Rook lounges on the couch like he doesn’t have a care in the universe.
“She admitted it to you,” I confront without preamble. “On the transport. She’s not just here for a story about the brides.”
Chief stands and inclines his head. “Yes, the female was honest about her intentions. More than I expected.”
“Honest?” I can’t keep the growl out of my voice. “That human got on this planet under false pretenses. She pitched a fluff story to Grytel to get her credentials approved. That’s manipulation, not honesty.”
“She got through layers of bureaucracy,” Scar says quietly. “I have to admit I’m impressed with her resourcefulness.”
Another growl rumbles in my chest. “I looked into her.” I pull up the research I gathered on my tablet before she arrived and read it outloud, “Ines Vieira, investigative journalist, Singapore, New Earth. Yes, she has written other celebrity interviews and puff pieces but her most recent were exposés of corrupt, human housing officials, medical supply scams and a cover-up at a children’s facility.
She doesn’t only write feel-good content.
She digs up secrets and destroys reputations. ”
“It doesn’t sound like she solely destroys reputations,” Chief mutters. “She’s also taking down bad humans.”
I toss the tablet onto the table. “She told Grytel what he wanted to hear to get through the door. Now she’s here offering to ‘help’ us.” I say the word like the curse it is. “She’s already proven she’ll deceive to get what she wants. And you’ve invited her to sleep in the room next to mine.”
Heavy shifts against the wall. “I don’t trust her either.”
Finally. Someone with sense.
“But,” my brother continues, “Jana pointed out, refusing her looks worse, as if we’re hiding something.
” He shrugs those massive shoulders. “We can’t stop her from being on the planet, so we’ve chosen to have her here so we can watch her and control what she sees.
Your concerns are valid, Trunk. But we’re already doing what we can to keep this contained. ”
“Keep your enemies close,” Chief adds.
“She’s not our enemy,” Rook says. “She’s a journalist.”
“Same thing,” I snap.
Rook rolls his eyes. The youngest of us still has the optimism I lost long ago.
“She didn’t lie about her true intentions for being here.
We don’t know yet if she’s here for bad or good.
Let’s wait and find out. Maybe she actually does want to help find the truth about what happened to mom and dad. ”
I round on him. “Journalists don’t help. They take. They called Daxon a murderer and spread that across every feed in the Four Sectors while we buried our parents.”
The room goes quiet.
I don’t normally talk about this, none of us do, but the memories are there, fresh as the day they happened, no matter how many rotations pass.
Reporters from all over the Four Sectors had arrived in Timbur, shoving recording devices in our faces, asking us how it felt to have our parents slaughtered in their beds.
Asking if we thought our brother did it.
I remember Scar’s face when he saw the headlines. He hasn’t smiled since.
“I won’t let that happen again,” I say, my voice rough. “I won’t let another journalist destroy this family.”
Chief studies me for a long moment. “The vote was seven to one, Trunk. It’s done.”
“And I’m the one stuck watching her every move.”
“You know the mines best. And you’ll spot lies faster than any of us.”
I cross my arms and nod in agreement. “Because I trust no one.”
“Exactly.” Chief’s expression doesn’t change. “That’s why you’re perfect for this.”
I want to argue, but there’s no point. The decision is made. I was outvoted by my own brothers. “She wants to interview all the brides,” I say flatly. “Including Leah.”
Chief nods. “Then you’ll escort her to employee housing when the time comes. Everyone has agreed to speak to her, including Leah.”
Of course she has. Leah sees the best in everyone. So does Jana, and Lila, and all the other females who have somehow decided that human-loving margol Xylan miners are worth mating.
I’m not convinced.
Scar speaks again, his voice low. “I’ve chased all the leads on our parents’ murder. Every path circles back to dead ends.”
I look at him. His scarred face reveals nothing, but I know my brother. The need for answers eats at him constantly.
“Fresh eyes might see something I missed,” he continues. “She got past Grytel with a cover story. That tells me she’s clever. Clever can be useful.”
“Or dangerous.”
“Same thing.” A ghost of something crosses his features. Not quite a smile. “Give her a chance to prove herself. One way or another, we’ll know soon enough what she’s really after.”
I say nothing, then I turn and walk out.
Dinner is chaos, as usual.
Everyone is here, ready to take a seat, minus Leah, Hook and their offspring who usually have meals in their own quarters.
The rest of us live in a lively family group which at times is annoying with the lack of privacy, but good in that we’re all together.
Being unmated and yet able to live with my brothers and their families, is pleasing.
I like to think that our parents would be pleased to see how we’ve managed to overcome so many obstacles and yet create this quality life for the Fever Brothers mining team.
Lia runs circles around the table while Lila tries to wrangle her into submission. Zora is in Roxy’s massive arms, sticky fingers grabbing at everything within reach. Baby Rux fusses in his high chair until Jana scoops him up with one arm while directing the placement of the meal with the other.
Three small children and two pregnant brides. Lila’s belly is starting to show again, and Naomi keeps touching her still-flat stomach with a soft, secret smile.
This is what we’ve built. After everything was taken from us, we’ve rebuilt a large, extended family and a comfortable existence.
And now there’s a journalist in our midst, ready to blow it all to hell.
Ines arrives on time. I can’t keep my eyes off her.
This female is highly annoying, and yet stunningly beautiful at the same time, which manages to make me angrier.
She’s changed clothes, tamed her dark curly hair into something that almost behaves.
And she’s appropriately wearing the green gloves of the unmated.
She catches my eye across the room, boldly holds my gaze and doesn’t look away.
I look away first. Irritated at myself.
“Welcome, Ines,” Roxy exclaims. “It’s so nice to see someone straight from Singapore. I know you’re here to interview us, but you’re also going to have to tell us all the latest news on what’s happening on New Earth.”
The other females loudly welcome her in their midst. Naomi pulls out a chair for her, Jana asks about her food preferences, Lila immediately starts explaining who all the children are.
Lia toddles over to stare at the new human with open curiosity.
Ines crouches down to the toddler’s level. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
“Lia,” my niece says with a slight, childish slur.
“She’s two years old,” Lila proudly announces.
“Two. That’s very grown up.”
Lia beams and runs off to hide in her father’s lap.
I watch from across the room. Ines fits in too easily.
She laughs at something Rook says, and then asks Roxy about her work in the science lab, and moves on to compliment Jana on the food.
The children warm to her immediately—even Zora, who usually cries around strangers, reaches for Ines’s shiny earring with grabby fingers.
A frown grows on my features. She’s good at this. Making beings comfortable and getting them to open up. It’s what journalists do.
Finally, I take my seat next to her at the table, still managing to keep some distance between us. She flashes me a look of surprise at the seating arrangement, then looks away, answering another question posed by Roxy.
I can’t stop watching this new human. The way she gestures when she talks. The curve of her smile. The sound of her laugh, warm and genuine.
“Trunk, can you pass the—” Rook starts.
Zora chooses that moment to throw a handful of food across the table.
Roxy lunges to catch it, Lila scolds gently, Lia laughs, and baby Rux starts crying again.
I shift position to avoid a toddler darting underfoot.
And suddenly I’m closer to Ines than I intended.
She reaches for the bread, her neck exposed, her scent rising toward me.
I inhale before I can stop myself. Her scent fills my lungs. Warm and complex. I send it deep into my veins, searching for what I already know will be—
Nothing.
Not compatible.
She’s not my Bride.
Relief should flood through me. This is good news. I don’t want a journalist as my mate. I don’t want any mate at all. I’ve made peace with being alone, with my line ending with me. I removed myself from the mating database years ago.
So why does something feel wrong?
It’s like reaching for something that should be there and finding empty air. Like a word on the tip of my tongue that I can’t quite grasp. The scent says no.
But my body...
Heat prickles across my skin. Both my hearts beat faster, pounding against my ribs in a rhythm I don’t recognize.
And lower, in my gut, there’s a stirring.
A warmth spreading through me that I’ve never felt before.
In forty rotations, I have never once responded to a female.
This is normal for unmated Xylan males. Desire stays dormant until we meet our Bride.
I’ve watched each of my brothers find their mates, watched the fever take them, watched them transform from solitary miners into devoted husbands and fathers.
And each time I’ve felt nothing. No jealousy.
No longing. Just acceptance that this would never be my path.
So what the hell is happening now? She’s not compatible.
The scent confirmed it. And yet my skin feels too tight and I cannot stop breathing her in.
I pull back sharply and nearly knock Lia over. Lila shoots me a sharp look.
“Are you alright?” Ines asks, her brow furrowed.
“Fine.” The word comes out rough. Almost a growl. “Watch where you’re moving.”
Her hazel eyes flash with confusion, then irritation. “I was only reaching for the bread.”
I don’t respond.
My hearts are still pounding, beating in unison, faster than they should.
What is wrong with me?
Towards the end of the meal, Heavy appears at my side. “What was that about?” His voice is low, meant only for me.
I don’t bother to pretend it didn’t happen. “Nothing.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I said it’s nothing.”
On my other side, Rook chats with Ines about Singapore, about New Earth. She’s animated, gesturing with her hands, describing her home city with obvious affection. Her eyes light up when she talks about the food markets, the crowded streets, her family’s apartment.
I watch her gloved hands move. The way her fingers curl around her cup. The flash of her smile. I can’t stop watching. I’m annoyed that Rook is speaking to her, because it should be me, not him.
“You’re staring at her,” Heavy says.
“I’m monitoring her. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
My claws dig into the table. I force myself to look away. Focus on anything else. The children making a mess. Cannibal and Jana clearing plates. Across the table, Naomi leans into Chief’s side, his hand resting protectively over her stomach.
Family. That’s what matters. Protecting them.
Not whatever is happening in my chest.
Heavy is quiet for a moment. “You scented her.”
It’s not a question.
“Yes and she’s not compatible.”
Heavy studies my face. I keep my expression blank. I’ve had forty rotations of practice hiding what I feel, but Heavy has known me his whole life. “Then why,” he says slowly, “do you look like someone gave you bad news?”
I don’t answer.
I can’t.
Because I don’t know.