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But would he make a good husband?
He paused as he considered whether the woman with whom he was matched would find him pleasing. Would his scars bother her? Would she find his personality too serious? Too intense?
He frowned.
He’d spent years fighting, first in the war against the Irrcons and then in the cages. He knew how to kill an enemy—with weapons and with his bare hands. He knew how to survive in the harshest of conditions. But he had no idea how to be a husband. No idea how to treat a female.
An orphan who’d gone from a group home straight to the barracks, he’d never had an example to follow.
Fluxx. Perhaps he should have thought this through before submitting the application.
The library suddenly felt too small. Too crowded. All at once, he heard the familiar roar of a bloodthirsty crowd on an outpost.
He rushed outside, as though he could outrun the memories. Sometimes he wondered if he were a monster for killing his opponents during the cage fights. He hadn’t killed all of them. Just the stubborn ones who refused to surrender.
What would his future mate think if she learned about his past? Would she fear him? Would she believe him incapable of setting a good example for their offspring? Would she regret signing up for the VAMOB program?
Would she want to leave him?
He stood at the end of the walkway, inhaling deeply of the cool morning air. Gradually, the agitation that simmered inside him began to settle. He quietly watched the passersby, not recognizing any of the warriors, and he certainly didn’t know any of the human females. But eventually, he spied a familiar face among the crowd.
“Feral!” he called as the male approached. Though he wasn’t feeling very social at the moment, he couldn’t just pretend he didn’t see one of his oldest friends walking down the street. They’d trained together as children during the early years of warrior training… that is, before Feral was separated from the others when his unusual talents were noticed, abilities that led him to become one of his people’s most skilled assassins.
“Errik? I’ll be fluxxed. It is you!” The tall alien warrior strode forward and gave a deep nod in greeting. “I heard about your feats at the outposts. They say you’ve never lost a cage fight. They also say you’re now one of the wealthiest Vaxxlians alive. Well done, old friend. Nice house, by the way.”
“Yes, it is true. The last few moon cycles have been rather eventful,” Errik said, also giving a deep nod. “I am pleased to see you, Feral. I purchased this house just yesterday when I arrived on New Vaxx. Do you live nearby?”
“I live a few streets away. I just finished building a house, and I also recently signed up for the VAMOB program. It is my hope that I will soon have a female to call my own.” Feral gave Errik a pointed look that spoke volumes. The male clearly wanted to know whether Errik had any intention of claiming a human woman.
Errik suppressed a groan. Yes, Feral might be an old friend, but Errik was reluctant to admit that he’d also just signed up for the VAMOB program. He still had doubts about whether he would make a good mate. Maybe he would be better off traveling the galaxy for the rest of his days, going from outpost to outpost, participating in cage fights, and letting the violence carry him away as he tried to forget everything.
But Feral wouldn’t stop staring at him with an infuriatingly expectant look. Star Gods be damned. Errik bit back a growl.
“I have also just applied to the VAMOB program,” he finally admitted.
Feral displayed a rare smile. “I am happy to hear it, old friend. And may I be the first to wish you a happy mating union.” His smile faded in the next moment as he seemed to really look at Errik for the first time, taking note of all his scars and perhaps even the haunted look that undoubtedly clouded his eyes.
Errik fought the urge to shift in place. He stiffened and instinctively drew himself up taller, as though he could somehow hide the scars that covered his body and the memories that tormented him simply by refusing to let his guard down.
“Well, I must be getting to the training arena. I’ve recently joined a unit led by Commander Draevan.” Feral nodded and took a step backward.
“Ah, Commander Draevan. I am pleased to learn he survived the war,” Errik said, feeling a rush of guilt for the way he’d flown off in his cruiser after the war ended. He hadn’t even bothered to contact any of his old comrades to find out whether they’d survived, and he felt like the worst kind of wretched soul for his behavior. He would have to visit Draevan soon, pay his respects, and perhaps even request to join the commander’s unit.
“Yes, he survived the war,” Feral said. “Sadly, his brother didn’t. Neither did his brother’s mate. But his baby niece survived, and Draevan is now raising her.”
Errik felt his eyes widen. Star God, how tragic. He experienced a pang of compassion for his old friend. He could not fathom suddenly being expected to raise a child all on his own.
“That is shocking news,” Errik finally said. “But… has Draevan signed up for the VAMOB program yet? Doesn’t he want a mother for the little baby he’s raising?”
Feral took another step backward, moving into the street. “He hasn’t applied for a human female yet, but it’s my hope that he will soon. Perhaps you can join me in nagging him?” The tall alien warrior chuckled and finally joined the flow of foot traffic in the street.
“Perhaps!” Errik called, though he had no intention of inserting himself into the lives of others. If Draevan hadn’t applied for the VAMOB program yet, despite having a baby niece to take care of and provide for, Errik supposed the commander had his reasons.
Just as Errik had his own reasons for spending the last few moon cycles traveling from one seedy outpost to another, drenching his hands in blood as he tried to outrun the emptiness that echoed inside him.
After watching Feral disappear around a tall white-stone building, Errik returned to his library, eager to check the status of his VAMOB application.
To his surprise, he’d already received a response.
