Chapter 3
Vytln
There was a human in his mating trap.
There was a human in his mating trap!
The complete randomness of an unknown human just suddenly being in his mating trap completely stole every thought in Vytln’s head, leaving only panic and unease.
Because there was a human in his mating trap!
No. No! This couldn’t be happening. No one was ever meant to even find his mating trap.
Instincts demand he build it. He got satisfaction in the planning and creation, as any adult, male lvtl would.
But that was supposed to be the end of it.
He didn't want a mate! He didn't want younglings.
Family was a cursed thing he refused to be part of again.
But he suddenly had no choice because there was a human inside of his mating trap!
He was shaking, pushing apart the locking panels that were meant to keep her inside.
A strange combination of excitement and dread making him nauseated as he stared down at the surprise, sleeping so peacefully in his trap, completely oblivious to what she had done.
Placed there as though by the hand of a god that wanted to fuck with him.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Vytln was absolutely convinced he was cursed somehow, and this human was just the next travesty to befall him.
A pretty travesty though…
She looked so different from the other humans he knew on his crew. He was used to their lighter toned skin and their smooth hair. He assumed all humans looked like that. He didn't realize that, like his own species, there would be such differences in the individuals.
The female curled up in his nest right now had darker brown skin than the other females.
It was more similar to his own hide, though, unlike his, it wasn’t covered in disfiguring cracks, nor was it rough and thick.
Instead, it was all smooth and sleek and shiny.
Like the satin pillow she was hugging. He longed to run his hand over her but was worried the roughness of his own skin might damage her-
No! Stop! Don’t think like that! It might not be too late. He could still get away from this. He could still escape before his own body betrayed him. If he started thinking about how much he longed to touch her skin or her hair or her face, he’d be screwed.
Even if it was such lovely hair. She didn't have the same thin strands as the other humans. Or, she did, but they weren’t all slick and smooth.
Instead, they appeared to have been gathered into slender locs that fell around her face and shoulders.
They also weren’t dark like the rest of the humans.
Well, they were, but just at the scalp. The rest of them were bright.
Most were red, but the ones framing her face were yellow.
It couldn’t be natural right? Not if the hair at her scalp was dark.
But he didn't care, because it looked so good on her.
No, it didn't! It did not look good! Or tempting. Or enthralling.
There was absolutely nothing about her that attracted him.
Not those long legs, bared by the shorts she was wearing, curled up so sweetly towards her torso.
Not that heavy dip from her hips down to her waist. Certainly not those plump lips that, to his surprise, were differently colored.
The top one was the same dark brown as the rest of her skin, but her lower lip was a rich, pretty pink.
He wanted to run his tongue along them and see if their textures were different.
No, he didn’t. That was a lie. He was just being controlled by the riot of hormones and instincts that were rushing through him. They were convincing him that the way her chest moved up and down was a glorious display of beauty and grace and-
Vekt!
His hands were clenching hard enough on the metal plates blocking the entrance to make them shake and his skin crack.
Her eyes were opening. Shining just barely in the light. He couldn’t see them properly, and he hated that he was missing part of her.
Then, she smiled.
And his heart burst.
He had to force his fingers to relax enough to open the entrance.
Despite his best efforts, however, the digits remained outstretched, curled up and tense, like he was barely resisting the urge to grab her.
He stumbled backwards, forcing distance between them, and hated how much he already missed the sight of her face. Her smile…
Getting away from his trap didn’t help. His back hit one of his work tables and he grabbed it for balance, upsetting some of his projects and sending them crashing to the floor.
He grabbed at his chest and the heart that was suddenly aching because he wasn’t going into the trap.
He had to join her, claim her – immediately, in case some other male came along and took advantage.
He was being stupid, he knew. No other male was just going to come randomly strolling by, see her, and decide to snatch her away from him. He knew that
But the instincts that insisted she was his would not listen to reason. He had to get in there, strip her bare, expose her to him, and plant his seed inside her before someone else did.
“Hey.”
He flinched, gaze snapping to the trap entrance. And the pretty face now peeking out at him through a hole too small to squeeze through.
“Can I getting into out now?”
He blinked, confused by her words. Her voice was heavily accented, and she spoke like she hadn’t learned the language properly. It was clear what she meant, however, and after he deciphered it, those raging instincts immediately roared in protest.
“No, you cannot come out now!” He growled, hand clenching on the edge of the workbench.
“Oh. I can coming out in later?”
“No, you cannot come out later, either!” He snapped, eyes slamming shut as his head dropped back. In complete contrast to him, she sounded so calm and unaffected. She probably had no idea what she had walked into, or what it meant for him.
He knew, realistically, he couldn’t keep her trapped in there forever.
Yes, he could.
He’d have to let her out sometime.
No, he didn’t.
She wasn’t his mate!
Yes, she was.
“Good working.”
Vytln’s eyes cracked and he looked down again. Seeing her for a third time did not lessen the punch to his chest at the sight of her. No, it was worse, because now she was smiling brightly at him, like she was proud or something.
“Good working?” He repeated. “For what?’
“Caught me.” She tapped the edge of the hole. Her nimble, long fingers dancing along the edge as her delicate human nails clacked against the metal. “I did lost. Good working!”
“No, I’m definitely the one who lost here,” he grumbled, head dropping back down. He ran his hand over his head, the roughness of his horns scratching on his palms. It almost helped to reorient him back to reality, but not quite. “What are you even doing in here?”
“Needing pipe.”
“A pipe? Why do you need a pipe?”
“Water.” She made a rushing sound with her mouth, and used her hand to pantomime rushing water coming down. Vytln watched the display, only briefly hypnotized by the movements. She had really pretty hands…
“Water burst from a pipe?” He asked, frowning. A busted pipe needed to be fixed sooner rather than later. But he hadn’t heard anything about a busted pipe. And how would this female know about-
“Ah!” He leveled a finger at her as realization struck, probably too late. “You’re my pest!”
His outraged roar made her giggle, and his eye twitched. How come people no longer trembled in fear at the sight of him? This was becoming ridiculous.
“Sneaking,” she whispered, lowering her head so that only her eyes were poking over the edge of the hole, her fingers tapping joyfully on the rim. “You no catching. Too long. Catching now. Good working, but I better.”
“You, stop messing with my ship!” He stepped closer to her.
She scoffed, eyes rolling back like the other females’ did when they were being mocking or dismissive. “Should being gratitude. Wire trash. Fixing.”
“This is my ship to fix, not yours. And my wiring was not trash,” he snarled, glaring at her through the hole, hands on his hips. She was even prettier up close. The dark brown of her eyes shined in the glow of the engine shielding in a way that seemed to sparkle like starlight.
What was wrong with him?!
The absolutely foolish, overly romantical thought was so completely counter to who he was, it actually made him stop.
He ran his hand over his horns again as his teeth clenched and released and clenched once more.
She’d been in his trap for all of half a mark, maybe, and he was already becoming a mind melted fool.
Completely unaware of the riot of thoughts and emotions twisting and burning through him like a superheated razor coil, the pretty little pest in his trap scoffed.
“Lies. Trash. I fixing, no worrying.”
“I wasn’t worried about it,” he growled, the words grinding through his clenched teeth. Both angry at her presumption in touching his ship, and annoyed because he still wanted to crawl in there with her!
With a great force of will, he whipped around and called out. “Alred! Get the captain down here!”
“I’ve already summoned him,” Alred said, his voice strangely soothing. Like he was trying to talk to a scared animal.
But Vytln didn’t have the ability to care about that right now.
Not while his pest was reaching her arm out, trying to sweep it around.
Searching for the mechanism that would free her with the kind of lazy, unhurried calm of someone doing a cursory search for something they dropped but didn’t care if they got back.
She wouldn’t reach it. He made sure to put it in a place that couldn’t be reached once inside. And he would only undo the trap when he climbed in there with her. And when he did, she wouldn’t be able to escape the trap of his arms, much less his-