Page 2 of Ready for Her Alien Husband

Trixie didn’t bother explaining her slang to him this time around. “Nice,” was all she said, then she silently watched their entry into the side of the top bagel.

Down a huge corridor they flew, blinking lights guiding them forward and into a landing bay straight out of a science fiction movie. Aircraft of various forms and sizes filled the cavernous space, and there was still space left for several Millennium Falcons. Workers, some of them from Gaenthia and others from planets Trixie didn’t even know the name of, were milling about with levitating platforms following them around to load or unload stuff. They didn’t bat an eye – or three – when Salphius flew the ship over their heads.

He had to be following the pulsing lights along the bright metal floor, but Trixie decided not to ask so as not to distract the pilot. Her being unusually quiet also had to do with her nerves starting to act up. She was so far from everything and everyone she knew. Now she understood better those heroines who felt overwhelmed after ending up on an alien planet despite being in the company of the local stud muffins. Thissituation was intimidating as fuck. The only thing that could make it better was–

“There!” Standing at attention next to a landing area pulsing with yellow light was a single green-skinned Gaenthian. “It’s him!”

“Milady, please remain seated–Milady!”

It was too late. She was already out of the safety straps and off her seat. With the ship having moved into position for landing, she could no longer see her fated mate through the porthole, so why stay? Patience was a virtue she did not possess.

Surprisingly, Salphius did not try to keep her inside the cockpit. After a resigned sigh, he opened the door for her with a voice command.

“Thanks, Salph!” Trixie rushed down the corridor past her cabin and the pilot’s to reach the cargo hold where the exit hatch was located. She positioned herself in front of the round door and tried to catch her breath while waiting for the landing. Her heart was beating like crazy. Her pulse was drumming in her ears. Her palms were sweaty as she smoothed her satin jumpsuit down.

Then the hatch began to slowly slide aside.

“Fucking hell, this is truly happening!” Trixie bounced in place twice, giddy with excitement and nerves. “Dear husband,” she muttered to herself, “hope you’re ready for your awesome wife.”

CHAPTER2

Goddess-blessed

Vrixiel couldn’t sit at the bar any longer. The place had a relaxing ambience and a great view of Jupiter, but he was a tangle of nerves inside, his upper heart beating erratically. At least he looked impeccable on the outside; his ceremonial red jumpsuit and medals were in place, his horns were freshly polished, and his long hair was divided into three orderly braids starting from the top of his head.

“Are you sure it is a good idea to wear so many of your medals?”

The question kept Vrixiel in his clamshell-shaped seat. Instead of getting up to leave, he turned to face his friend to his right. “What do you mean?”

Nitiel gave him a pointed look over a swirly glass of water. He never drank alcohol, not even when he was off duty for several weeks. In fact, he was never going to be on active duty again, since he was vacating the post of Subcommander of Gaenthia’s army in the Solar System in favor of a diplomatic role on Terra. Nitiel had arrived from the Venus station just yesterday to undergo the necessary training for the new job.

Vrixiel was happy to have his closest friend at the station he himself was yet to get to know. He had moved here just three days ago, as per protocol when the ASI located a space soldier’snielain this system. Vrixiel was even happier to have Nitiel around for the arrival of Lady Trixie Miller, since it was good to have someone to share concerns with ahead of the most important moment in a Gaenthian’s life. But still. “What is wrong with showing my medals to myniela?” Vrixiel grumbled. “Speak plainly, Nitiel.”

His friend scratched the pointed tip of his purple ear. “Forgive me, I did not mean to add to your worries. It’s just that… What if yournielagets overwhelmed? Females are delicate creatures.”

Vrixiel harrumphed and drank the remaining two drops of his Terran whiskey. “With all due respect, I have far more experience with females than you.” Like, way more: Nitiel was a virgin. “Delicate is how they must act, to meet our society’s conservative standards.”

“True.” Nitiel scratched the base of his horn nub. “However, neither you nor I have experience with Terran females.Shouldn’t you be more careful? Why not display just three of your medals instead of as many as you can fit on your uniform? Three will prove to her what kind of soldier you are, while ten… She might think you have nothing else to impress her with.”

Vrixiel couldn’t stop the nervous flutter of his wings. That was the issue: he might not have what it took to impress his female. He excelled at his job, sure. He was part of one of the most influential clans on Gaenthia, indeed. But none of those things mattered when one was alone with one’sniela. He trusted the Goddess, who acted through the ASI, to pair him with a female who would love him as he was; yet he couldn’t help but fear disappointing Lady Trixie.

Vrixiel jumped from his seat. “I must go.”

“What?” A deep frown appeared on Nitiel’s purple face. He put his glass on the levitating bar. “Go where? To leave some medals in your cabin?”

“No. The medals stay.” Vrixiel needed that metaphorical shield, for better or worse. With his wings drawn tight, he added, “I’m going to the landing bay. You may join me now or later, but I cannot stay here a second longer.”

“Vrixiel.” His friend flew off his seat and landed next to Vrixiel. “There is a lot of time until Lady Trixie’s arrival–”

“I know–”

“–but I understand. I shall not leave you to wait alone.”

Warmth filled Vrixiel’s lower heart. His friend, despite the chronic pain in one leg from an old injury, was going to standbeside him for at least an hour. “You better not try to catch the eye of myniela, Subcommander,” Vrixiel said, grinning.

“That would be impossible,” Nitiel replied through a smile. “For the poor female would lose her sight as soon as she sees the blinding sparkle of your medals.”

Vrixiel laughed, his worries temporarily subsiding, and tugged at one of his friend’s horn nubs with a pinkie. “Quit mocking my medals. She will love them, and you know it.”

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