Page 52 of All or Nothing
He smiled down at me softly, one of his hands sliding up to cup the back of my head. “What a strong and fiery mate I have,” he murmured before dipping to capture my lips in a sweet but searing kiss. I was tempted to take him back to his room and ride him like my life depended on it, but there wasn’t enough time before we’d have to start getting ready for dinner. “I love you with all my hearts,” he added when he broke the kiss.
“I love you too, Xollen,” I told him, pressing my face into his warm chest. “Just say the word and I’ll fight both of your parents. I’m a Chicago girl, they’ll never know what hit ‘em.”
He laughed, holding me close, but he didn’t say no.
IT WAS ONEthing to know that Xollen came from money, and another thing entirely to see it. I’d thought his old place was bougie and ridiculous, but now that I was seeing his parents’ place it looked positively squalid in comparison.
His parents were the kind of rich that wanted everyone to know about it and feel bad for their lack. There was no reason for two people to have a mansion as big as an Earth city block, with an attached garage as big as a large house unto itself stuffed full of hovers that looked like they’d never seen a drop of the outdoors. Most of the rooms had to be empty and unused; there was no way so few people were able to fill all of them with something meaningful.
Xollen was clutching my hand tight, his large palm clammy and his fingers almost too tight on my hand, but I wasn’t going to let go of him. I could deal with a little bit of cold sweat if it meant I could help him keep his cool. We’d spent a lot of the time in between when we’d gotten the call and now talking things out, coming up with a loose plan and working out our anxieties, and now we just had to see it all through.
The idea was to hear them out and then shut them down no matter what. The whole thing felt manipulative and shallow, and I could practically hear the alien fish man yelling that it was a trap. If it were me in charge of this I’d’ve just sent them a comm telling them no, but these were Xollen’s parents, so I was letting him take point, and he wanted to see them and give them a chance. I understood where he was coming from, and when I’d been in this position with my mom, or with friends, lord knows I’d done the same thing. When you love someone and want them to love you back, you’ll let them do some pretty shitty things to you just in casethiswas the chance that they took and didn’t take for granted.
But that didn’t mean I’d let Xollen just welcome them back with open arms. I wanted to protect him, to keep his beautiful, delicate hearts safe, and Iknew, on no uncertain terms, that his parents weren’t going to take care of him like he needed.
When we pulled up to the front entrance, a valet met us to take our rented hover and park it for us. Then we were met by an honest-to-god butler, who announced us, just like in the regency shows I liked back on Earth, and then led us into the formal dining room—implying there was more than one dining room, I realized—to meet his parents and begin the meal.
Xollen looked more like his mother than his father. He had her eyes, her full lips, her complexion, but all of Xollen’s sweetness and humor were missing from her features. She oozed cool, calm, collected, and powerful, and I knew she’d be a powerful enemy if she decided I was worth her time to take down. Her facial cleft wasn’t as deep as her husband’s, and she was lithe and almost as tall as her husband and son. His father was surprisingly dad-like, wearing khaki slacks, a white button-up that made his dusky blue complexion pop, and a sweater vest that showed off his hint of a paunch. Streaks of white threaded through long navy hair just like Xollen’s, and lime green eyes swirled lazily with something that felt a lot like bored disdain. Both of his parents were crusted in jewelry, chains and charms dangling from their horns, woven through their intricate hairstyles, and twinkling from their throats, ears, and fingers. His mother even had cuffs on her tail.
“Darling, howareyou?” his mother greeted him, standing and giving him a dispassionate kiss on the cheek. His father also stood, saying nothing, and only offering his son a respectful bow.
“Mother. Father. It’s…good to see you again.” His fingers tightened around my hand.
His parents finally noticed me, drawing back in shock and no little bit of disgust.
“What…is this?” his mother asked, not even trying to hide the curl of her lip.
“This is a person, and my name is Joss,” I said sweetly, baring my teeth in an expression that I knew wasn’t s smile. “I’m Xollen’s mate and business partner.” That had been another thing we’d decided to be clear on: I had wanted them to know that was all-in with Xollen, in every way.
“Xollen, you can’t be serious,” another female voice said from a distant corner of the room, the sound smoky and smooth. Beside me, Xollen froze, looking shocked, and my stomach sank and clenched with trepidation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone slink closer, all emerald skin and a silky crimson dress. She was gorgeous, this woman who disapproved of me so thoroughly, even with the alien facial cleft making her look strange to me, and I immediately felt dumpy and plain and unworthy. Her bright silver eyes tracked over me slowly, taking in my every flaw and smirking, because she’d clearly come to the conclusion that I was worthless.
“Verilla,” Xollen ground out, his voice tight and higher than it had been, “what brings you here?” Icy dread slithered down my spine. Verilla. Xollen’s ex. And she was just as glamorous and sexy as I’d imagined.
“I ran into your parents at the health club this morning and they invited me. It’ssogood to see you again, Xoll. I’ve missed you.”
I bristled at that, and to my relief so did Xollen. He dropped my hand to put that arm around my shoulders and pull me close against his side. His tail was wrapped tight around his leg already, but the tip of it flicked back and forth, like an irritated cat’s. “It’s good to see you, too,” he said, then squeezed me and pressed a kiss to my temple. “As I said, this is my mate, Joss. She’s also the creative force behind our success.” His eyes were soft and full of pride as he looked down at me. He’d barely looked at Verilla, and that did make me feel a little better.
I inclined my head in the smallest bow I could manage while still technically being polite. “Verilla, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I batted my eyelashes, making it as clear as I could that everything I’d heard had been bad. Which it had been: by all accounts she’d been abusive, using Xollen for everything she could and then dumping him like he was trash.
“Charmed,” she said, her smoky voice dry and scathing.
Off to the side, a staff member rang a series of bells suspended from a long horizontal pole.
“Ah, that’s dinner ready, then,” Xollen’s father announced, and I realized that neither of his parents had bothered to actually greet me or introduce themselves.
“You know, I didn’t catch your names,” I called over to his parents, making Xollen frown at my side.
“I am Tirri,” his mother said, looking annoyed, “and this is my mate Faan.” She hesitated, then added a slight bow of her head and a “nice to meet you.” Jesus, these people.
We all settled into our seats at the table, staff scurrying around behind us with dishes, serving us the first course—some sort of soup—and then bowing and disappearing. It was so fucking creepy. Did Xollen’s parents tell them to do that?
“So, Joss. Where are you from? How did you two meet?” Tirri asked, taking a delicate sip of her soup. I squirmed, my mind sticking on how people had often meant that question back home—“where are you from”. But here on Billieu, no one would have known what Puerto Rico was, or why it would mean anything that some of someone’s ancestors were from there instead of somewhere in Europe. No one cared that my skin produced a little more melanin, or that the Puerto Rican half of my family hadn’t taught me any Spanish so that I didn’t have an accent for all of thegringosto look down on. No one here would think I was too Latina for the white folks and too white for the Latinos.
“I’m from a planet called Earth, in restricted space. I’d been taken by th'rak slavers but luckily I was freed before they could do anything to me.” Me and Xoll had decided that it was best to leave out the fact that Xollen had had a hand in my rescue, to avoid embarrassing him again. “Then I happened to meet Xollen and he offered to help me get on my feet, and the rest is history.”
Tirri arched a brow delicately, looking incredulous. “Really? Xollen offered to help you, just like that?” Her purple eyes locked on her son’s face in disbelief.
Xollen stiffened in his seat beside me. “Yes, mother,” he ground out, and I slipped my hand onto his thigh, rubbing it soothingly. He relaxed, though I heard his teeth creak together in his mouth. “I think I could tell right away that she was special, and it was the best way I could think of to keep in contact with her.” He grinned down at me. I’d actually propositioned him, of course, but he’d told me that he’d wanted to beg me to stay, and that he’d been too nervous to say anything, so it wasn’t really a lie. Thank god I was such a horn dog.
