Page 7 of Alien's Heart
If Ashen turned to his right, Nox would be discovered. He kept his eyes fixed forward.
Justice. Fortitude. Prudence.
Forgiveness.
Not that Ashen was one to forgive. The virtues might hold more meaning if Nox had ever witnessed his uncle demonstrate them.
He ran on fumes. Relying on his wit and charm to avoid trouble was a losing strategy. He needed to continue moving on. Hopefully, he’d make it to the next stop.
Nox kept his tail tucked tight and boarded the connecting flight to his ultimate destination. He just needed to reach his mate.
Ruth
Ruth’s gaze flicked between the tablet and the people departing the shuttle.
Not many people had a reason to travel to Vroda Mig. The agriculture industry kept the transportation center busy enough with shipping and receiving. An unfathomable amount of raw grain and animal products left on cargo ships. When those cargo ships returned, they brought all the fancy goods from the larger cities. Ruth would kill for a proper shipment of coffee. Allegedly, the larger cities had a steady supply. Out in the sticks, she made do with kava. But was the transportation center busy with passengers? Not so much.
Of the dozen people who departed the shuttle, three were Tal men, and not one looked like Distinction.
She received an alert that he arrived on Corra and made the connecting shuttle. He should be on the shuttle.
Three weeks had passed since she completed the Celestial Mates application. Since then, her vandal hadn’t returned, but she felt tension ratcheting up in town. The whispers were no longer behind her back. It was only a matter of time before the vandal escalated from adorably rude cartoon spiders to property damage.
Ruth felt unsafe on her own now, jumping at every unexpected noise. One of the barn wuap—a native animal similar to a house cat crossed with a peacock—had taken to following her around and enjoyed knocking things off tables. She was grateful for the company, but the animal was practically feral. It was there to kill rodents, not nose her glass of water until it shattered on the floor. Now when a loud bang woke her in the middle of the night, was it her mischievous mouser or someone trying to break in? Ruth woke with her heart racing either way.
Distinction’s presence would go a long way to settle her nerves. Just having another person eased her tension. She just hoped he liked the farm. Liked her. She hoped she liked him. The packet the agency sent didn’t have much to say, just some photos of a very handsome Tal man. Too handsome. Suspiciously handsome. Like, why did he need a matchmaker? What was wrong with him?
Stop it. Stop second-guessing yourself. What’s done is done.
The passengers picked up their bags and the station emptied. Her heart sank. She didn’t expect to be stood up by her mail-order husband. He wanted a match, right? He signed up for the same matching service as her. She expected him to reject her and the farm life, but it still hurt.
Worse, the news would be all over town by evening.
Ruth felt the eyes watching her, certain that the gossipmongers were already hard at work.
The least Distinction could have done was tell her he changed his mind with a message. If that’s the kind of man he was, she was better off without him.
A steward sensed her distress and wandered over to assist. She explained who she waited for, that the computer said Distinction got on the shuttle, but she didn’t see him. The steward pointed her toward a Tal man in a vivid purple jacket.
That wasn’t Distinction.
The man had a lanky build. He wore a ridiculously vivid purple jacket, completely unsuitable for the warm summer day. He stared at a small handheld comm unit, frowning while his tail slashed from side to side. Whatever he read, he wasn’t happy about it.
Maybe the photo the agency gave her was wrong or old.
“Distinction? Distinction Elyot?” she asked.
The man took a moment to respond like he needed to remember that was his name.
Because it’s not his name?
He looked up from the handheld. Their eyes locked.
Ruth swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Markings around his eyes gave the appearance of eyeliner. They were striking. Intense. He wore his hair in a tousle of roguish curls. Nothing about this man’s appearance said he’d be suitable for life on a farm, yet that’s exactly where she wanted him. In her fields. In her bed.
A wide grin spread across his face, all fangs and danger. “My mate,” he purred.
Whatever this was—whoever he was—she wanted nothing to do with it.
