Page 3 of Her Alien Mercenaries
He started to scream, and it flooded his mouth. He choked, spat, and finally sucked in a lungful of air.
“It’s not real!” he reminded himself. “Snap out of it. You’re good. It’s all good.”
He muttered reassurances, one hand pressed against the smooth tiles along the nearest wall as he fought to ground himself. He went through one of the exercises he’d read about, taking each breath with purpose and holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Three breaths, and he was calm enough to start cataloging sensations: the coolness of the tile beneath his hand, the sound of water pattering against the tile.
A few more deep breaths, and he found his center. Much better.
His newly established calm shattered when Zanyr’s voice sounded in his head. “Move your scaly ass or you’ll be late. Again. Director Firt will string you up by your wings if you’re late on the first day of the semester.”
“Chip, turn off the shower and activate the drying sequence.”
The system chimed in acknowledgment. A moment later, warm air buffeted him from all sides.
Torren sped the process along by toweling himself off as he replied to his friend and blood-brother.“I’ll be down shortly. I’m moving slowly this morning.”
The internal comm link buzzed as Zanyr laughed.“You move slowly every qarfing morning. If you’re not here quick, I’m eating your breakfast. I’ve already had mine.”
“You’re done already because you bolt your food with all the manners and restraint of a starving gharshtu. You probably didn’t even taste your meal.”
The banter helped to calm him, the same way it had when they’d done it during countless missions.
Had hisanrikguessed Torren was having an episode? Probably not, but he was grateful for the distraction, anyway.
“My meal was delicious, thank you. Yours looks good too. Better hurry…”
A quick check of the time told him he really did need to get going. He jogged back to his bedroom to grab the clothes he’d laid out last night.
Dark pants, a well-tailored but simple tunic, and comfortable shoes. It wasn’t much different from what he wore in his last career, only now he didn’t need body armor or a half-dozen weapons to do his job.
With a grin, he scooped up his clothes and hurried back to the landing. Their bedrooms were on the second floor with a large open area that allowed anyone in a hurry to fly down to the main floor instead of taking the stairs.
The moment he took flight, Torren grinned. This was one of the advantages of living outside of the colony. They’d been allowed to build a home larger than those in town, with tall ceilings and wide-open spaces that flowed into each other, making it possible to fly from one side of the house to the other.
He touched down in the middle of the main living area and strode toward the kitchen, the smell of food making his stomach rumble.
“Took you long enough, I was…” Zanyr turned around, saw Torren, and scowled, baring his teeth enough to show his fangs.
To anyone who didn’t know him, Zan probably looked terrifying. Torren knew him too well to worry, though. The only time he worried was when hisanrikwent quiet.
“Qarf! Why are you naked? It’s in the rules, Vex. No nudity around the food.”
Torren ignored his friend’s bluster and went straight to the plate of food waiting on the counter. “Aren’t you the one always claiming that rules were made to be broken?”
“Not this rule. We signed a contract and everything. House rules are to be respected.” He gestured in Torren’s general direction. “Now I’m nauseated and deeply regretting the sausages I had for breakfast. Put on somefraxxingclothes already.”
“For a male who once went into a firefight naked, you’re surprisingly uptight about nudity.”
“That was for a bet. Plus, I was the only one naked. I’m gorgeous.” He gestured to himself. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re delusional.” Torren set his plate on the table and then took a moment to get dressed before eating. In truth, he knew his blood-brother was right. Neither of them had trouble attracting female attention, but Zanyr was the one they noticed first.
That hadn’t changed since they’d come to Haven. Not that either of them had accepted any offers for company. They wanted something more than a temporary arrangement. They wanted a mate. Their mate. The one female in the galaxy they were destined for.
“What?” Zanyr asked. “No comeback? You’re admitting I’m better looking?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. You’re not bad-looking. For a copper-back.” He dropped the insult so casually it took a second for Zanyr to register he’d been disparaged.
“Asshole,” he snapped, but he smiled as he said it. “I’ll have you know that one of the new human females likes my coloring. She says it makes me distinctive.”
