It was a disaster.

I’d known it would be, of course, but Vair had insisted on this meeting, and here I was, cringing into my plate of overcooked broccoli as Mom stared at me with accusing, red-rimmed eyes and Dad alternated between stuttering out awkward questions about how long we’d been dating and drinking too much wine.

Partially, it was my fault. I’d kind of sprung Vair on my parents. While I’d been open about the fact that I had a new boyfriend, it had only been last night that I’d finally admitted the truth to my parents.

At 9:38 p.m., when Mom had called to double-check what time we’d be coming today, I’d fessed up that Vair was a K.

The hysterics that had followed were the worst I’d witnessed yet, and that was saying something.

“He’s going to kill you! Murder you in your sleep!” Mom had sobbed into the phone while Dad had spammed my inbox with links to all the negative articles about Ks—some of them my own. “He’s going to crack your skull and drain you of blood and—”

“I won’t, I promise,” Vair had interrupted, taking the phone from me, and that had set off a round of shrieking that must’ve been heard all the way to Alabama.

I’d repossessed the phone at that point and spent the next two-plus hours soothing my parents, telling them all about how well Vair treated me and how he never, ever ate human brains, not even when he was really hungry. After I’d finally hung up, I’d kept my phone next to me because I knew my mom—and sure enough, she’d called me six more times throughout the night, crying and begging me to leave and go get help, and why, oh why wouldn’t the FBI listen to her insistence that I’d been kidnapped and send a SWAT team to retrieve me?

So yeah, that had been a fun night.

And here we were now, in my parents’ house, with my mom having served the blandest, most unappetizing meal I’d ever seen her make. I suspected it was her version of “fuck you, evil K.” Maybe she was hoping that Vair would extrapolate the overboiled broccoli into a threat to overboil him if he ever hurt me?

I wasn’t sure, but it was embarrassing either way.

“Sorry,” I mouthed to Vair when my mom went with my dad into the kitchen to get us a refill of water and wine—to wash down the unpalatable food. “I don’t know why they did this.”

I gestured helplessly at the table, where in addition to the overcooked broccoli and undercooked potatoes, half-squished, ancient-looking grapes stood in a bowl—apparently to be eaten for dessert.

Vair’s dark eyes glinted with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling. It’ll take more than a bad meal to scare me off.”

So he’d interpreted my mom’s actions the same way I had, though he didn’t know she was normally a good cook who’d gamely risen to the challenge of a plant-based diet.

Unless…

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is my parents’ house bugged?” I half-hissed, half-whispered, gripping the table as I leaned closer. “Have you been watching them, too?”

Is that how he knew this was a bad meal and not my mom’s usual dinner fare?

The amusement in his gaze deepened. “What do you think?”

Ugh. Of course. I felt a flare of outrage on my parents’ behalf, but I didn’t have a chance to express it because my mom returned, carrying two glasses of water—which she plopped on the table in front of us so hard that some liquid sloshed over the rim.

Dad was on her heels, carrying an open bottle of wine and a tray with a charred-looking brownie.

So there was dessert other than the unappetizing grapes.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, picking up my water to take a sip. Belatedly, it occurred to me that she might’ve spit in Vair’s glass—or put something bad in his food, in general—but I shoved the thought aside.

Even if she had done something so awful, it wasn’t like he’d get sick from it.

“So, Vair…” Dad said after downing another glass of wine. “What are your intentions toward our daughter?”

I closed my eyes and prayed for one of Vair’s wall/floor-dissolving tricks, so I could sink into the hole and disappear.

“Well,” Vair said, completely calmly, “I’m in love with your daughter, Mr. Myers, so I’m hoping for a long-term relationship with her.”

I opened my lids a sliver and verified it.

Yep. Not even a hint of discomfort or embarrassment on that perfectly formed face of his, nor any of his usual mockery.

He looked sincere. Earnest. Like a Boy Scout hoping to win his Scoutmaster’s approval.

And my dad was lapping it up, nodding like he was in total agreement.

My eyes opened wider as Mom spoke to Vair for the first time, her voice only slightly higher pitched than usual. “How would something like that work, exactly? You are a different species.” She emphasized the last word, making it sound like something dirty.

“Yes, we are, but that doesn’t matter,” Vair said, giving her a carefully modulated smile. One that aimed to soothe and disarm. “I’m sure you’ll remember a time in human history when people felt the same way about unions between different races.”

My mom’s freckled cheeks flushed. Despite living in a ninety-eight-percent-white area, she prided herself on being “blind” to race. “That’s n-not…” she stuttered. “I mean, that’s not the same at all.”

“Why?” Vair said, his tone gentle. “If I love your daughter and she loves me, what’s wrong with us being together?”

Mom stared at him, speechless for once, and I knew I was wearing the same expression—a dumbfounded, “deer in the headlights” look of illogical fear confronting irrefutable logic. My heart thudded dully in my chest, and my hand bunched into a fist under the table as his words sank in deep, bypassing the layers of bullshit I’d used as my defenses.

A Krinar and a human, in love. What was wrong with it, indeed?

Why was I fighting this so hard?

Why was I so scared to admit how I feel?

For a few long moments, no one said anything, the silence stretching until it felt like a string on the verge of breaking.

Then my dad cleared his throat. “Um… wine, anyone?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Vair said easily, as if we were all friends here, and as Mom shakily extended her empty wine glass, holding it next to Vair’s, I stared at my Krinar, knowing—no, feeling—the truth.

We might not be the same species, but he handled my parents like a boss.

It was late by the time we got home, but I felt wired instead of tired, all but buzzing with nervous energy.

“We did it. Can you believe we did it?” I babbled as Vair led me into his penthouse. I hadn’t been able to shut up the entire ride home. “And oh my God, the expression on Mom’s face when you invited them to New York for Thanksgiving… I bet they thought you were going to say ‘Krina.’ And then when Dad tasted that awful brownie and literally spit it out… Do you think Mom actually swapped the salt and the sugar, like she claimed she did by accident? As in, the full amount? I mean, it sure tasted like that, but that’s extreme, even for her. And then—”

“Amy.” Vair’s dark eyes held a vaguely predatory expression as he stopped me by pressing a gentle finger to my lips. “Hush, darling.”

My eyes opened wide as he followed that with his clothing-dissolving trick—with my clothes and his—and my throat went dry as I stared at the masculine perfection laid bare before me.

Would I ever get used to him?

Was it possible to get used to someone so gorgeous?

He was already hard, his magnificent cock curving up to his navel, every muscle on his large body chiseled with inhuman precision. But it was the look on his face that stole my breath—a mixture of dark lust and unabashed tenderness, of hunger and sheer adoration.

Leaning in, he framed my face with his large palms, and my insides clenched in anticipation as his lips brushed across mine… once, twice, and then again. His breath was warm and tasted faintly of wine, his tongue soft and slick as he delved into my mouth, tasting me, teasing me. My hands curved around his solid wrists, and my heart hammered in my ribcage as a hot flush spread over my skin and an empty ache bloomed low in my core.

I needed him to fuck me.

Now.

First, though, I needed to tell him something important—something that had weighed on me the entire ride home, making my nerves jingle and my mouth run non-stop.

Something I should’ve told him long ago but had been too chicken to admit.

Breathing shallowly, I broke the kiss and pulled away. “Vair…” Despite my resolve, my voice shook as I stared up at him, still holding his wrists as though I could possibly restrain him. “Vair, I…”

He held my gaze, the tenderness in his eyes intensifying. “Yes, darling?”

He knew. Of course he knew.

From the very beginning, he’d understood me—even better than I’d understood myself.

“I love you,” I said, my voice steadying as my nervousness evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure, true feeling. “I love everything about you, Vair, and I want us to make a real go of this—no matter what my parents or anyone else thinks.”

“Do you now?” he murmured, a slow, warm smile curving his sensuous lips, and as he reached for me again, bending his head to claim me with a voracious kiss, I knew that this was it.

In a New York City x-club, I’d found my other half.

A Krinar I loved with all my heart.