Big Bad Claws

by Michele Mills

Zayzon entered the domicile first and swept his blaster around the front room. He used his night vision to carefully scan the space and found nothing out of the ordinary. “Clear.”

  Scar, Chief, Trunk, Cannibal and Heavy moved in behind.

  His youngest brother, Rook, stood beside him and lowered his energy weapon and his beheading ax. “You see anything out of the ordinary?” he whispered.

  “Not yet. But, I smell something…pleasant,” he admitted.

  Rook’s ridges lifted in surprise. “Pleasant?”

  “Stop talking,” Chief growled. “We need a complete check of the premises before we stand down.”

  Zayzon gave a curt nod and got back to work. It didn’t take long for them all to check the front living area and kitchen in detail. There weren’t any outbuildings and no bay for vehicles. This was the lowest level of crew quarters—an ancient domicile left over from the initial claiming of this mining outpost by the Xylan Margol two centuries earlier.

  “I don’t smell anything and neither does anyone else,” Trunk whispered as they converged again at the entrance to the back hallway, readying to check the sleeping quarters. “How can you smell something that we don’t?”

  Zayzon shrugged. “How the hell should I know?” But it was still there, growing in intensity. A pleasant scent, tugging at the edge of his senses.

  “Go, go, go,” Chief gestured.

  Then they systematically made their way down the hallway and through seven bedrooms. They ran a visual scan of each room, then burst in and performed a physical search, confirming that there were no intruders. Finally, they made their way to the end of the hall and stopped in front of Zayzon’s room. It was the only spot in the domicile left to be checked.

  “If there really is an intruder, it has to be in Claws’s room.”

  “Or, maybe there’s no intruder?”

  “Why else would the front door be unlocked?”

  A random growl rumbled in Zayzon’s chest. The scent was strongest here. It filled his lungs and lit up his senses. “Mine,” he snarled, the odd word coming unbidden. It seemed to be the only word he could say.

  “What did he say?” Rook asked.

  “Mine,” Zayzon repeated.

  “What the hell?” Cannibal swore. “That’s weird. Why would he say that when we’re about to bust into his room?”

  “The scent is strongest right here,” Zayzon tried to explain.

  “Mine?” Trunk shrugged. “What scent? I have no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t smell anything and neither does anyone else beside Claws. I’m beginning to wonder if this is all a hoax. Maybe we don’t really have an intruder and we’re searching the domicile for no reason.”

  “Why else would the door be unlocked?” Chief repeated.

  He had no idea what was wrong. Why could he scent when no one else could? Why was it only for him? It was causing his claws to stretch and his fangs to lengthen. He turned his head and stared at the door to his room. There was something there, inside. Someone inside. A female. His female.

  “Mine,” he growled again.

  “He’d better not be talking about dinner,” Cannibal snarled. “Claw can’t fucking claim my food as his own.”

  “No one would be stupid enough to do that,” Scar snorted.

  “I smell her,” Zayzon rasped. His chest swelled as he inhaled her scent.

  “Her?”

  “My future mate.”

  “No.”

  “Zayzon declared last year he wasn’t going to ever mate.”

  “Yeah, he took himself off the mating database.”

  “Everyone shut up. This is serious,” Chief ordered.

  “He was tired of all those Managers asking for him to test with their females.”

  “Yeah, such a chore,” Scar said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “I said, shut up,” Chief snarled.

  They quieted down and stared at Zayzon.

  He stared back, dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d thought it was impossible. “Her scent is strongest here,” he tried to explain. “There’s only one being in this domicile, and it’s my future mate.”

  All six of his brothers crowded close, whisper-shouting at him and with each other.

  “No fucking way.”

  “There’s a female in there?”

  “What the hell?”

  “You scent your Bride waiting for you in your room?” Chief asked.

  “Yes. The intruder we’ve been looking for in this domicile is in my room and I can scent her compatible mating pheromones.”

  “Impossible,” Scar grumbled.

  “If Claws says it’s true, then it’s true,” Trunk retorted.

  “Well, it would explain how a being was able to bypass our security system and enter this domicile and his quarters,” Chief said. “She was let in because she’s his mate.”

  “True. But why did she show up in the middle of the night like this?”

  “Hmm.” A growl rumbled in Chief’s throat. “Let’s check before going in.”

  Zayzon pulled out his tablet and used his sharp claw to swipe across the screen, eager to see his Bride and confirm her safety. He synced the tablet to the security vid feed and brought up the visual. There she was—on his bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. Zayzon tilted the screen so they all could see.

  “She’s sleeping?”

  “This female snuck into our domicile while we were working and walked right into your room and fell asleep?” Cannibal snorted. “That’s bold.”

  “Who is she?” Rook asked. “I thought Zayzon had already sniffed and rejected every female on the colony.”

  “Hold on,” Heavy noticed. “I don’t think she’s Xylan.”

  Zayzon blinked. He looked closer and used his claws to zoom in. The female’s eyes were closed, but even in the darkened visual he could see she lacked ridges on her forehead and the texture of her hair was unusual. Her hands had five crowded fingers with blunt tips.

  Scar reared back. “What is she?”

  “She doesn’t look Xylan.”

  “What is she?”

  “We don’t know,” Chief growled.

  Rook sucked in a breath. “What’s wrong with her pigment? Is…is she colorless?”

  Trunk bowed his head and placed a claw on Zayzon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Claws, it must be hard for you, of all Xylan, to realize your Bride is without pigment.”

  A growl rumbled in his throat. How dare they criticize his female? “She’s perfect the way she is.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her,” Zayzon repeated. “Can’t you see that she’s human?”

  “Human?”

  “Oh, yes she is,” his youngest brother exclaimed. “He’s right, this female is human like Leah and Darcy. It was hard to see at first. We really need to upgrade to night vision for our visuals, I’m tired of them turning out dark like this.”

  Cannibal threw back his head and laughed. “Claws said he’d never mate a human. Remember?”

  Oh hell, he’d never live this down. The whole colony knew how he felt about that. He’d made sure of it. For once his loud mouth was coming back to bite him in the ass.

  “What is this, are we all going to end up with human Brides?” Heavy said.

  His other brothers cringed in horror.

  “Damn, if that’s the way this is going then I’d rather remain unmated. Sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, Claws, but I wouldn’t mate with a human. They’re so tiny and defenseless. I’d be afraid I’d break one. What are you going to do with her? You’ve got those claws.”

  He glanced down at his hands. It was true, he would have to be gentle. His nickname was Claws because he was known for his abnormally large, sharp claws. Xylan females swooned over them and males admired him for his deadly appendages, but when mating a female without scales or claws of her own, this would be tricky.

  “And he’s the loudest of us. He often scares our own female
s.”

  It was all true. He had no idea how to treat this human correctly.

  “At least she’s not a real intruder. She’s just in there sleeping. In your bed.”

  “We’ve all been waiting our whole lives to find our Bride and yours just shows up unannounced and delivers herself to you?” Scar growled. “Claws has always had it easy when it comes to finding a mate.”

  A wave of warmth hit his chest and a smile played across his lips. His mate, in his bed. She was here. He’d found her. He blew out a breath and flexed his claws. He could make this work.

  “Well, it won’t be that easy,” Trunk broke in. “Humans don’t mate like we do. Hook’s Bride didn’t know what the hell mating compatibility was.”

  “Same thing with Daxon’s Bride.”

  “Well, we could move her into Hook’s old room, it’s empty,” Heavy gestured. “That way she could have her own bunk and wouldn’t be in there taking up all the space in your bed. And then you could have more time to think through what your approach will be.”

  Zayzon bared his fangs and emitted a low growl.

  Chief crooked a ridge. “Guess moving her elsewhere isn’t an option.”

  “She sleeps with me,” he snarled.

  “Okay. Okay. Be careful with this female though, she might not understand our culture or how we mate. You will have to talk her into agreeing to test for compatibility. She doesn’t have a Manager or a Champion. It will take time.”

  Zayzon nodded and flexed his claws. He would do his best to convince this human female of the necessity of testing compatibility. Meanwhile, he was keeping her close.

  “I’m glad your mate is here in the compound with us and we’re all together,” Chief said. “Daxon was forced out and Hook left us when he took his Bride. Our crew was nine strong and now we’re only seven. My priority is that we stay together. There is safety in numbers.”

  They all nodded.

  “I won’t be leaving,” Zayzon said to the crew. “Hook wanted new quarters for his Bride and offspring, but I prefer to stay here.”

  “Hopefully your Bride will feel the same.”

  “I still can’t believe this,” Scar huffed. “All any of us have ever wanted is to find our mate, and Claw, who said he didn’t want to mate, has his Bride delivered to him, like he’s some kind of spoiled royal pigment asshole.”

  “Shut up,” Zayzon snarled. He hated being compared to those elitists.

  “It’s true.”

  He lifted his claw, ready to teach Scar a lesson.

  “Let’s hurry this up,” Cannibal interrupted. “I’m hungry.”

  “Are you going in your room?” Trunk questioned. “There’s no need for us to do a search. You can go in there alone.”

  Zayzon shook his head. “Uhh…” He glanced around at his brothers, unsure of what to do.

  “I think he’s speechless,” Heavy laughed. “Since when is Claws left without words?”

  He was known for his big bad claws, his towering height and his loud mouth. It had been that way since his youth. And yes, he didn’t know what to say, or how to act in the presence of his future mate. His Bride was sleeping in his bed. This was wholly unexpected.

  “I’m hungry,” Cannibal repeated. “I don’t have time for Zayzon’s drama, I need to eat. All of us just got off a double and we’re exhausted. There’s no danger here, it’s just Claw’s Bride who entered our domicile and she’s waiting for him in his room. Let him deal with it. He can find out why she’s here and what she needs. Everything else can be sorted out in the morning. This is Claw’s problem, not ours. I’m going into the kitchen and eating last meal before bed. If anyone wants to come, they can, and I’ll feed you too.”

  And then Cannibal turned and walked down the hall. The rest of his brothers followed.

  “Good luck,” Chief muttered as he walked away too.

  Zayzon was left alone, in front of the door to his room. He took a heavy breath.

  His Bride.

  His hunger for last meal dissipated. His body buzzed with adrenaline. He thought he’d never find his Bride, and yet here she was. Their high-tech security system must’ve scanned this female, verified that she was his mate and gave her immediate clearance. This was good news, because he’d want his Bride safe and comfortable.

  He had to see her. What was her name? Why was she in his bed?

  He placed his claw on the lock and the door slid silently open. The night light clicked on, but his vision allowed him to see clearly no matter the light gradient. Bright-colored clothing was strewn across chairs and hanging from hooks. All of it was wet. Strange shoes that looked to be crafted in the image of some sort of mammalian creature lay nearby on the floor.

  His gaze darted to the bed, eager to take in the image of his mate. Did she think she’d entered an empty domicile in which to shelter from the storm? If so, out of all the rooms, why did she choose his? He grinned and walked to the edge of the bed and gazed upon his Bride. This human might not understand mating compatibility or even realize he was her mate, but she’d followed his scent straight to his room. She was asleep because the moment she’d entered his quarters, engulfed by his scent, she’d known she was safe.

  Her hair was dark as ancient night, long and in gentle waves. The covers went over her shoulder, so he couldn’t see her exact form. But she was on her side and her hands, with those strange, five crowded clawless fingers, were exposed. There were no ridges on her smooth forehead, no fangs peeking past her full lips. He knew logically that if he hadn’t already scented her as his Bride, he’d consider her lack of pigment…disturbing. But she was his and he studied her profile, loving the slope of her distinguished nose.

  Tomorrow they’d speak and he’d learn her story and find out why she’d arrived this way, but for now he required sleep. He quietly put away his blaster and took off his mining gear. He was filthy from his double shift, so he silently padded into the cleansing unit. When he finally returned he was worried he’d woken her, but she was still deeply asleep.

  He dug into the items on the floor and found his long-ago discarded gloves of the unmated. He shook off the dust. He hadn’t needed these in ages because he’d removed himself from the mating database, and also, he’d scented every unmated female on the planet and knew none of them were his future mate. So why bother with gloves? But he needed them because he might be ready to clasp his female’s hand to initiate claiming, but this didn’t mean she was ready. He pulled on the gloves, covering his large claws, and strode over to the bed.

  He placed his personal fever crystal on the table next to his bunk, like always. The bright light confirmed once again that his Bride was near. It would only glow in the presence of beings attuned to Illibrium, and glowed brightest for one’s mate.

  He smiled and lay down next to her and slid under the covers. He placed his gloved claws on his chest because he could sleep next to his female, but he couldn’t touch her. Well, he couldn’t touch her palm to holy palm. This would initiate mating compatibility.

  He turned his head to stare at her again in the dim light cast by his Illibrium. Dark lashes rested against her colorless cheeks. Strangely, he didn’t find this lack of pigment unsettling. In olden times an offspring born in such a colorless state would’ve been thrown into the wildlands so that nature could reclaim its mistake. But he found the discrepancy between her lack of pigment and his golden brown Margol delightful.

  Luckily he had recently grown used to humans. Leah of One, Hook’s human Bride, often worked alongside their crew in the mines, but she almost never came over to their domicile. For some reason Hook found their compound unacceptable quarters for his Bride. Zayzon still didn’t understand why his brother felt this way. Yes, this dwelling wasn’t nearly as nice as the compound they’d been raised in, but to leave and take his Bride with him? To Zayzon this was a safety risk. At least Hook and Leah were living in the biggest high-rise on the planet. This was good, especially since his Bride was carrying his brother’s offs
pring.

  A strange, subversive thought entered his mind. His eyes drifted down the length of her covered form. What would it be like to mate this female and fill her with his seed and watch her grow large with his offspring? All Xylan remained celibate their entire lives until the moment they found their mate. Usually this was through the clasping of claws during a mating compatibility ceremony. He was lucky to possess this rare ability to be able to scent his mate prior to their touch—this was the only reason he knew she was his.

  He would have to convince her of the necessity to clasp claws in order to initiate his mating pheromones so he could claim her. And fill her with his seed. He smiled again, pleased at the thought of eventually mating with this female. He pulled up the covers, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, his female’s scent filling his lungs.

  4

  Something smelled fantastic.

  Lila raised her arms and felt her breasts move freely against the bedding.

  Holy gods.

  Her eyes flicked open and she tensed, her fingers digging into the sheets under her chin. The events of last night came crashing back. Oh wow. This wasn’t her bed, or even her own home. She could’ve died last night, except the first killer to arrive was the ethical assassin. She’d been shoved onto a transporter disk and left New Earth in order to hide from Daniela and an untold amount of assassins, and ended up on some random planet. She’d run through a dark rainstorm, terrified, until finding a derelict building to hide in…and she’d taken off her wet clothes and went to bed naked.

  Naked.

  Why had she done that? Why had she thought she could just fall asleep here, without her clothes on? Had she lost her mind when she left home?

  A soft snore pierced the quiet morning.

  A tiny squeak escaped her lips.

  She crooked her neck. A huge form slept peacefully in the bunk next to her. When had this happened? She’d originally gone to sleep in an empty bed. She stared at this unknown being, terrified of what this meant. She glanced up at the square jaw, the wide shoulders and confirmed, yep, a male. A very large male. His forehead had a series of ridges and she glanced down at the huge, green-gloved hands that lay on top of his bare chest.