Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Trunk
The walk to the public transport is quiet this morning.
Ines keeps pace beside me, her tablet tucked under her arm, her dark curly hair pulled back from her beautiful face. There’s a distance between us that wasn’t there two days ago. She doesn’t stand as close and doesn’t look at me the same way, with that sparkle in her eye.
I keep replaying yesterday. The path back from employee housing and the way she stopped walking and turned to face me, her hazel eyes direct and unafraid.
Am I your mate?
The question hit like a blow to the chest. And the answer came out before I could soften it. No. We are not compatible.
I’d scented her and the answer was clear.
So why do I feel like this?
Enthralled with the sharpness of her questions.
The way her mind works, always connecting pieces, always digging deeper.
How she whispered “thank you” to the crystal in the mine like it could hear her.
The pout of her lips, the softness of her skin and the twirl of her curly hair. I want it in my claws.
I enjoy having this small human by my side. She’s easy to talk with and I feel myself telling her things I wouldn’t normally tell anyone.
When I inhaled her scent that first night at dinner, part of me had expected, even hoped, that she would be the one.
She wasn’t.
I can smell her right now, and I find something else. A scent of arousal floats in the air from Ines that started yesterday on the walk to employee housing and hasn’t faded. It is only there when I am near.
She’s attracted to me and probably wishes we could act on it.
But humans don’t work like Xylan. They pleasure mate. Casual encounters without bonds or commitments. She wants something I can’t give her, not without a claiming, and the scent says claiming isn’t possible between us.
“Roxy’s lab is on ground level?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes. Near the science wing.”
Ines nods, her stylus already out, ready to take notes. Professional to her core.
I find myself noticing the curve of her breasts underneath her button up shirt. The way her green gloves grip her tablet. The sway of her hips as she walks.
I look away.
Not compatible, I remind myself. Focus.
We reach the public transport station and the platform is crowded with Minecorp employees heading to their shifts.
Ines is telling me about a story she wrote years ago, something about a factory on New Earth that was dumping chemicals into the water supply.
Her voice is animated, her hands gesturing as she describes tracking down witnesses who were afraid to talk.
“The hardest part was getting them to trust me,” she says. “They’d been burned before by reporters who were bought out by the companies and twisted their words. I had to—”
The crowd surges and she stumbles slightly. Without thinking, she reaches back and takes my hand.
I freeze.
Her gloved fingers wrap around mine, tugging me forward through the press of bodies. She’s still talking, guiding me toward the transport doors like this is the most natural thing in the world.
No one takes my hand.
I’m unmated. I wear the green gloves of the unmated. The only reason anyone would clasp hands with me is for a compatibility test, and that’s done formally, deliberately, with witnesses. Not casually, in a crowd, while chatting about old journalism projects.
A group of miners nearby stare openly. I see the shock on their faces. The disapproval. This human female is holding my hand in public like we’re... like we’re...
I should pull away. I should be annoyed at her ignorance of Xylan customs.
But I don’t pull away.
Her hand is small in mine. Warm, even through two layers of gloves. She’s not even looking at me, she’s focused on navigating us through the crowd, still talking about her story, completely unaware of what she’s doing.
And I like it.
The realization hits me hard. I like the feel of her hand in mine. I like that she reached for me without thinking, like it was instinct. Like I’m someone she trusts enough to hold onto.
We break through the crowd and reach a clearer spot near the transport doors. Only then does she glance back at me.
Her eyes drop to our joined hands.
She goes still. “Oh.” Her cheeks flush with color. “Sorry. Jeez, I’m not supposed to do that, am I?”
She releases my hand quickly, tucking hers against her side like she’s been caught doing something wrong.
“It’s fine,” I rasp.
“No, I know you have customs about hand-holding. The gloves and everything. I just wasn’t thinking. In Singapore, we—” She shakes her head. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s fine,” I repeat.
She gives me an uncertain look, then turns toward the transport doors as they open.
I flex my hand at my side. I can still feel the ghost of her grip. The warmth that seeped through the fabric. The miners who witnessed our little moment are still watching. I bare my fangs slightly and they look away.
Ines steps onto the transport and I follow. She chooses a seat by the window and I take the one beside her. Not across from her. Beside her.
She doesn’t comment on this, just pulls out her tablet and starts reviewing her notes for the Roxy interview.
I stare straight ahead, hyperaware of her shoulder almost brushing mine.
Cannibal’s bride is tough. I still remember how Roxy made her way across the four sectors to a cave in this mine, in order to remain safe. The Illibrium had called to her. She survived a situation most humans would have lost, badly.
And nowadays, Roxy is mated to my brother and is a Minecorp employee.
The science lab is her domain, and she runs it with the same quiet competence she brings to everything.
Equipment hums on long tables. Samples of Illibrium at various stages of maturity glow in sealed containers.
Data scrolls across screens mounted on the walls.
Roxy greets us with a warm smile. “Ines! I’m so glad you wanted to see the lab. Most people find this part boring.”
“I find it fascinating,” Ines says with genuine enthusiasm. “I want to understand how everything works. Not just the surface level.”
She could have done this interview at the compound, it would have been easier, but Ines wanted to see where Roxy actually works. I grudgingly admire this about her, even as it makes me wary.
Roxy launches into a tour, clearly excited to show off her work.
She explains the crystalline structures under magnification, the molecular composition, the way Illibrium bonds with Xylan biology at a cellular level.
And then she talks about how powerful the crystals actually are and gives an overview of how they are chosen to be shipped off to different governments to power, for instance, whole spaceships.
“So Illibrium powers everything in the Four Sectors?” Ines asks, gesturing at the glowing samples.
Roxy shakes her head. “Not everything. Most beings use standard power sources such as solar, wind and thermal. Illibrium is too rare for everyday use.” She pulls up a holographic display showing a crystal powering what looks like a massive space station.
“Illibrium is reserved for the big stuff. Military battleships. Space stations. Government infrastructure. Major industrial and tech hubs. One crystal can power an entire city, and if properly cared for, it never runs out.”
“Never?”
“Never. That’s what makes it so valuable.” Roxy zooms in on the crystal. “The Xylan Imperial Fleet runs on Illibrium. So do the major trading stations across all Four Sectors. Anything that needs massive, reliable, permanent power, that’s Illibrium.”
“So the Xylan control the most important resource in the known universe.”
“They’re stewards of it, really.” Roxy leans against her workstation.
“The Xylan have the largest military in the Four Sectors. They could hoard Illibrium, charge whatever they wanted, hold entire governments hostage. But they don’t.
They keep prices fair, ensure efficient operations, work with other species.
There’s a whole Xylan Imperial Fleet orbiting Timbur right now, making sure pirates or hostile forces can’t take over the mine. ”
“Like a peacekeeping force.”
“Exactly. The Xylan see themselves as protectors, not profiteers. It’s part of their culture — honor, duty, all of that.
” Roxy’s expression turns serious. “But that also means Timbur is the most strategically important planet in the Four Sectors. Anyone who wanted to destabilize Xylan authority, disrupt the power supply to governments and militaries across the known universe...” She trails off.
“They’d start here,” Ines finishes.
“They’d start here.”
Then they move to talking again about how our miners bond with crystals.
“So the fever bond is literally cellular?” Ines questions. “The crystal integrates with Xylan biology?”
“Exactly. It’s why only certain bloodlines can mine Illibrium. The bonding requires specific genetic markers. Without them, the crystal rejects the miner.”
“And the Fever Brothers’ scenting ability? How does that work?”
A grumble of displeasure rumbles in my chest.
Roxy’s eyes light up. “Sorry Trunk, I need to answer this, it’s one of my favorite topics.
I’ve researched the heck out of this.” She looks again at Ines.
“I’ve learned that the brothers’ ability to scent their mate prior to the hand clasping is tied to reproductive compatibility,” she answers.
“The scent markers indicate whether two beings can successfully produce offspring together. That’s what the Fever Brothers are detecting, fertility signals, essentially.
Biological compatibility for reproduction. ”
“So if something interfered with those fertility signals...” Ines says slowly, working it through.