“A little. It must’ve been weird for them, that their brother was mating with a female that wasn’t Xylan and was in fact of a species they hadn’t even seen before in real life. They’re protective of each other. But once they saw it was real, that the bond was genuine...” She shrugs and gives Texon a wide smile. “Family is everything to them and I became family the moment Saxon claimed me.”
I tap my stylus against my tablet, considering my next question. “I’ve been hearing about some incidents involving your family. The attack on Heavy. The mist. I understand there were others?”
Leah and Naomi exchange a look. Something passes between them, a shared understanding, a shared fear.
“Someone murdered their parents,” Leah says quietly. “Years ago. Masked killers broke into their home and slaughtered them in their beds. It was never solved.”
“And then Daxon,” Naomi adds. “The eldest brother. He was betrayed by his own cousin, framed for something he didn’t do. They stripped him of his position as head of the Miners’ Union and banished him from Timbur.”
“Then Heavy was attacked at the Hunter Station,” Leah continues. “His memory wiped. Left for dead. A fake note to make his pregnant Bride think he’d abandoned her.”
“And now the mist.” Naomi’s voice is hard. “Four incidents. Same family. And Minecorp calls them all coincidence or random chance or natural phenomena.”
“You don’t believe that,” I say.
Leah looks at me steadily. “I believe someone powerful wants this family destroyed. And I believe they’re not finished.”
The words hang in the air.
I glance at Trunk again.
His jaw is tight. His hands are fisted at his sides. He doesn’t shut down the conversation this time. Doesn’t tell me this interview is supposed to be about human brides, not family tragedies.
He just stands there, silent, watching me write it all down.
The walkback to the compound is quiet.
The light has changed while we were inside. During the ride back in public transport, Timbur’s sky is deepens from purple-blue to something darker, and the two green moons become visible through gaps in the jungle canopy. The air has cooled slightly, though it’s still warm against my skin.
I keep pace with Texon, very aware of the space between us. The sound of our boots on the path. The rhythm of his breathing.
I’ve been turning it over in my mind since Naomi first said it.They can scent their mates before the hand clasp. One breath, and they have their answer.
He’s scented me. I know he has. At dinner, when he leaned closer than necessary, in the hallway outside my room, when he inhaled sharply. At the cafeteria table, when his shoulder almost brushed mine.
He knows. He already knows whether I’m compatible or not.
And he hasn’t said anything.
I stop walking.
Texon takes two more steps before he realizes I’m no longer beside him. He turns back. His expression is guarded.
“You scented me,” I say.
He doesn’t respond.
“At dinner,” I continue. “In the hallway. You inhaled my scent. At least twice that I noticed.” I hold his gaze, refusing to look away. “Naomi said Fever Brothers know before the hand clasp. One breath, and they have their answer.”
He stands very still.
“Am I your mate?”
The question hangs between us. The jungle hums around us with insects, distant bird calls, the rustle of enormous leaves in a breeze I can barely feel.
“No,” Texon says. His voice is flat. Final. “We are not compatible.”
Something flickers across his features. There and gone so fast I almost miss it. Disappointment? Frustration? I can’t read him well enough to know for certain.
