I know little about Veloria before we arrive, and what I do learn, I learn from Vohx as he sits across from Vince, Slate, and I in the ship’s small kitchen and dining area. The two soldiers did not set out to join the conversation, but rather wandered in the midst of it as they rummaged through the cabinets.

“There is no medium or compromise when it comes to Veloria and its ecosystem. Half the planet is bathed in close sunlight and the other half has never even seen such a thing. That is, I think, different from your planet.” The crew looks blank. “There is an icy half, and a fiery half,” Vohx explains. He takes a moment to pause and flick a forefinger in the direction of his own skin when he mentions the ice. I look at the steely gaze on his strangely handsome face and wonder what a fiery Velorian could possibly look like. “So I would advise you all retrieve cold weather gear before we leave the ship.”

“No kidding,” I say. “The temperature readings have already started dropping and we haven’t even touched down yet.”

“It will intensify the closer we get,” Vohx says.

The ship tilts a bit as Paulson delves farther down. According to protocol, we are all supposed to be strapped down in our seats during landings, but Paulson had stated before our first takeoff that that was mostly for nervous flyers. He claimed he’d tell us if we needed to do anything out of the ordinary. Darwin is no doubt sequestered in his cabin, holding tight to whatever is available despite the relative ease of this landing compared with the last. The only adverse effect of the swooping, downward motion of the ship is an uncomfortable drop in my stomach that is easy enough to ignore, and a few items falling from the shelves of the pantry, several of which Slate manages to catch before they hit the ground.

“Coats and pants are in the storage closet on most rigs like this. The door at the end of the hallway,” Vince tells me. He then squints at Vohx, looking him up and down. “I doubt we’ll have anything to fit your size and, ah, extra …”

“Appendage?” I try.

“Right,” he says. “Appendage. That’s what we’ll call the tail thing.”

Vohx’s nostrils flare, and there is a slight spark in his eyes that tells me he is capable of discerning a joking tone from a disrespectful one.

The soldiers continue perusing the pantry. Catching me staring, Vince explains. “We’ve got ration packs, but unless you toss in a few ingredients of your own, they’re fucking intolerable.”

“You think we’ll have to stay the night planetside?”

Slate surprises me by actually opening his mouth to speak. “Unless we get lucky enough to stumble onto the plant as soon as we step off the ship.”

“It’s not likely,” Vohx says. “The plant craves a thin atmosphere and great cold. It would be dangerous to land a ship so high on one of the mountains. We’ll likely need to hike up ourselves.”

As difficult and somewhat frightening as it sounds, a thrill of excitement runs through me at the thought of traipsing through the snow in search of an exotic species of plant. There is nothing left to explore on Earth.

Satisfied with their take from their kitchens cabinets, Vince and Slate exit with their arms laden. “They’ll take any excuse to leave without you two,” Vince says. “Don’t dawdle too long.”

Vohx watches him leave. “Unless you are familiar with the weather patterns,” he says, “I do not think your expedition will be successful in my absence.”

I nod. “Personally, I don’t think Darwin’s brave enough to attempt it without you.”

“Would you?” he asks, without missing a beat.

“Attempt it? Yeah,” I say. “Of course.”

Vohx tilts his head. His eyes remind me of an icy lake, frozen in winter, but still alive beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to thaw. “For your people.”

I nod. “For Earth.”

The surface of Veloria is just as cold as Vohx warned us, but I find it oddly enjoyable. I feel plenty warm in the cold weather gear that I threw on before we gathered our things and headed down the ramp. Carrying a pack that contains my share of the supplies, none of which are particularly light, I’m almost too warm and relish the brisk breeze.

The men are complaining in no short order. Richards and Cole do so loudly and obnoxiously, while the soldiers seem to be using humor to deal with the situation, shivering all the while. Darwin simply trudges through the deep snow, looking sufficiently miserable, but never once opening his mouth.

“Christ,” Vince says. “Why couldn’t the plant be on the opposite side of the planet?”

“You would likely find it just as intolerable,” Vohx answers, walking alongside me, the two of us in the middle of the pack, with the soldiers and Darwin ahead of us, and the two scientists behind us. “The heat and humidity has been known to make aliens like yourselves lose consciousness even with proper equipment.”

“Well shit,” Slate says.

“What I want to know,” Vince continues, “is why you look so goddamned cheerful about this whole situation?”

The question is aimed at me, I notice. “It’s a fascinating planet,” I answer, looking ahead of us at the blue-gray cliffs of a mountain silhouetted against the purple horizon. “Aside from that, the cold has never bothered me. I went to Nursing school in Chicago, had an apartment a few blocks from the Lake. I loved the weather there—especially in winter.”

When I finish speaking, Vohx is staring at me with a strange light in his eyes. A new interest or curiosity; something he wants to mention? He doesn’t say a thing, and I don’t want to ask him about it within earshot of all the others.

“That explains it,” Vince says. “Anyone who doesn’t hate Chicago is insane.”

We keep walking, the men keep grumbling, and Vohx keeps watching me like he doesn’t know what to make of me.

“Tell us more about the planet,” I say, the words for the two of us, as Vince and Slate are getting farther and farther ahead, though they are careful not to get too far, and the scientists have begun to fall behind, their enthusiastic complaints stealing too much of their energy.

“What would you like to know?” Vohx asks.

“Why the extremes in temperature?” I say, without missing a beat.

“It doesn’t rotate,” he answers simply, but then elaborates at my look of confusion. “It sits stationary beside its single sun. This is why we have evolved into both ice dragons and fire dragons, to survive and thrive in our respective environments.”

“Which is why you don’t need cold weather gear,” I conclude with a smile. I look to the half-lit sky, a blush rising on my cheeks at the intense way he looks at me. Whatever he is thinking about, I have no idea, but I get the feeling the alien can see me like I’ve never been seen before, and the thought is new and strange and exciting to my core. “So no rotating means you’re lacking sunrise and sunset?”

“Yes. It grows a bit darker or a bit lighter depending on the direction in which one travels. But the sun does not rise. You cannot even see the sun from here, just a bit of its light reflecting off our moon.”

One thousand more questions rise to my lips, but Vohx stops walking, holding a hand up to stop Richards, Cole, and Darwin behind us. Vince and Slate keep walking. I want to call out to them, but Vohx is being so carefully quiet that it might not be the best idea. The Ice Velorian sniffs the air, his muscles tensing at whatever scent he has caught.

“A pack of waelef is approaching. They likely wish to hunt us.”

His voice is loud enough to reach the soldiers, and they stop in their tracks, hands on their blasters. I see nothing at first, weak human eyes squinting into the blowing snow. But then, after a moment of tense, anticipatory silence, I see four low-to-the-ground shapes moving toward us, sinking into the crouch that many predators adopt before the they leap.

“Stay back,” Vohx says in a voice that is effortlessly commanding. A tone that requires respect; I’ve never heard such a thing from a human man. He twists my insides into knots as he stands up straight, even as his tail zips from left to right in anticipation. “All of you.”

My hand creeps to my own blaster instinctively as Vohx rushes the pack of creatures, their shapes still mere blurs in the increasingly bad weather. I hope I won’t need to use it. My aim is passable, but I seriously doubt my ability to hit a target that isn’t at least relatively stationary. It isn’t until Vohx clashes with the first of the creatures that my vision adjusts enough to see them clearly. They are nearly the same blue-white color of the snow and ice surrounding us, and they blend in well enough that I have trouble tracking their rapid movements. They almost look to be made of the ice itself, with the spikes of their fur appearing as pointed icicles. As Vohx knocks one to the ground, I am surprised when the spikes don’t break on impact. Much like the spines on Vohx’s shoulders, they seemed to be more flexible than they appear. Evolution has made them fit for fighting.

Vohx fights without his blaster, using only his body as a weapon. He tosses the lead waelef away. I watch as it skids across the ice and climbs to its feet again, this time rushing Vohx with the other three waelef in tow, moving as a seamless line of teeth and muscle against their perceived enemy. Vince and Slate have slowly made their way back to the rest of the group, and the scientists, without my notice, have closed the gap as well. It feels safer this way, as though we are a pack of our own. The soldiers keep their blasters trained on the waelef, but they are a whirlwind of teeth and icy fur around Vohx.

“If I try it, I’ll hit him,” Slate says finally, chewing on his lip, face twisting with concentration as he holds out his blaster a bit unsteadily. The wolf-like creatures are as unnerving as they are beautiful, and I understand the unease.

I reach out, not quite putting my hand on his arm. “Wait,” I suggest.

Vohx fights until, by chance or by skill, the waelef are close enough together for him fire off a stunning shot from his blaster. He must have it set to the lowest setting, or else the waelef are far tougher than most humans. They sprint a few feet away, obviously spooked, limping and blinking sluggishly. Vohx turns back to face the rest of our group, showing his teeth in what looks closer to a smile for once than a snarl.

“Aren’t you going to kill them?” Richards asks, anger and confusion in every line of his body. Cole appears the same, while Darwin and the soldiers merely stare, waiting for an explanation.

“No,” Vohx answers. “They were merely hunting to feed their young. There was no malice in their actions—only nature.” The scientists continue to glare, Slate with them. I notice that Darwin still looks torn, but he says nothing to contest Vohx’s words.

We press on for only a while longer, quickly at first, at the insistence of Vohx, who says that the waelef may attack again if their hunger is truly desperate. Even knowing that they would likely die in the attempt, their instincts might drive them to try it once more.

Having already walked a good several miles before our encounter with the waelef, we walk another few afterward, stopping only for short intervals. The men seem frozen. Ahead of me, Slate, too habitually silent to complain with as much vigor as the others, shivers so hard that he seems to blur at the edges, hands stuffed beneath his arms, with hat and scarf arranged so that only his eyes are visible. The rest of our group, save for Vohx and I, are similarly covered. While I am still not feeling the cold so deeply as the men, the prolonged exposure to it soon has me shivering as well, fingers and toes tingling despite the equipment made to keep out the icy chill. If they have been this cold the entire time, then it’s no wonder the morale is growing worse and worse. I catch Vohx’s eye, and he seems to get the hint.

“The chill will grow worse with the height and with nightfall,” he says. “It would be smartest to stop and rest now, and move on in the morning when the worst of it has passed.”

The scientists start to grumble at being ordered around by an alien, but I open my mouth before they have a chance to get too insulting.

“He’s our guide,” I say. “Even if you’ve read everything there is to know about Veloria—which I’m guessing you haven’t—he’s lived here. He knows more.”

Richards and Cole still stare, displeased. Darwin looks at the ground. Some leader he’s turning out to be.

“Guys,” Vince says, placating. “He’s right. The visibility’s shit.”

The two scientists shut up and begin to set up camp, though their eyes are still narrowed as they do it.

“Christ,” I say. “It’s like those guys who won’t stop flirting with you until you invent an imaginary boyfriend. At least they listen to you.”

Vince shrugs. “If it works, it works.”

On the belts that keep our jackets tightly closed, there are small tubes that are supposed to contain collapsible tents. Five of us wear equipment taken from the ship, but two of our belts are empty.

“Fuckers who took the ship out before us didn’t care enough to repack them,” Cole says, and for once, I find myself mirroring his irritation. It was Paulson’s ship. A responsible pilot would have double-checked the essentials in the storage room before heading out on a new mission. Of course, no one had expected a detour to the icy side of Veloria, so perhaps he could be forgiven for not keeping the cold weather gear in order.

The tents are easy enough to set up, but as soon as we’ve eaten a meal in front of a hastily constructed fire, the arguing about who bunks with who commences.

“I will share a tent with Stacy,” Vohx insists. “Use the remaining two however you like. I don’t care about anything else.”

Perhaps I should be annoyed about the decision being made without him consulting me, but at the moment, I’m simply relieved that I’m not sharing with any of the others. I find Slate tolerable and am actually beginning to enjoy Vince’s company, but I’m not sure how much I would like spending the night in the tent with either, or both of them. I don’t offer an alternative arrangement, and instead busy myself with laying out my sleeping bag in the tent. As I work and Vohx scouts the area to make sure that it is indeed safe to sleep here, I overhear a few of the men discussing me in voices that aren’t nearly quiet enough.

“He keeps looking at her,” Cole says.

Vince shrugs. “Think we all know why he wants to share a tent with her,” he laughs. Vince doesn’t seem to take anything terribly seriously, and the words don’t sting when he says them. He even catches me watching and tosses me a wink, as though urging me to share the tent anyway. I snort a small laugh, smothering the sound, and try to go back to work.

Richard’s voice though, is loud enough to puncture my concentration. “It’s fucking disgusting,” he says.

Vince shrugs. “Eh, to each their own,” he says, and Slate laughs.

“This is kinda serious, Vince,” Cole says, looking around at the rest of the men. “Do you think we should get in the way of what he wants?”

“I say stay out of it,” Richards answers. “Girl got herself into this. It’s not our job to get her out. Plus, you really want to make the huge icy fucker mad?”

I look back just in time to see Darwin nod his agreement. I feel my jaw clench in response, skin prickling with anger, a flush coloring my cheeks and neck in response to the words. It would be embarrassing enough to simply overhear them discussing such private matters in my life, but it seems that the majority of the men think I might be in actual danger and plan to do nothing about it. If they truly think that Vohx might harm me, shouldn’t they warn me at the very least? I’m surprised at the slight pang in my chest at the knowledge that they think so little of me. Richards in particular seems to almost enjoy the thought, while Darwin seems to think any harm coming from Vohx would be deserved.

I haven’t done anything to any of them. I wipe away a single frustrated tear, as I turn fully away and climb into my tent. The fabric is military grade, made to keep out the cold, so I slip off my coat as soon as I’m in, knowing that it will not be comfortable to sleep in. It will take a while, I know, for my body heat to reflect in such a manner to warm the interior of the tent, however small the structure, and I’m shivering a bit when Vohx returns from his scouting and enters. I watch in silence, warming quickly at the sight of him, as he situates his own bedroll. As he works, his eyes keep drifting my way. Once he has finished arranging his things, he turns the full force of his attention my way, and I find that I cannot tear my gaze from his. His eyes are bright as the moon outside, intense, and it is almost a relief when he drops them to the floor of the tent and says, “You need to warm yourself. Lie close to me, and I can put my arms around you.”

The relief turns to a mix of desire and apprehension once I realize what he’s said. In another circumstance, I would assume it was an invitation for something else, but Vohx’s tone is strictly professional, carefully distant.

“It’s alright,” I say, testing. “I told you before. I’m not that cold.”

“You’re human. If you’re going to sleep without your coat, then it is my duty as your protector to insist.”

From anyone else, the words would have made me roll my eyes at the obvious ploy to get me into their sleeping bag, but Vohx seems so genuine. Curt, almost. Though I was not freezing like the other humans seemed to be, the air inside the tent was not much warmer than outside just yet, and without my coat I was beginning to feel it.

“Fine,” I say. Vohx lies down on his side on his bedroll, which looks infinitely more comfortable than my flimsy but supposedly warm sleeping bag, and I lie alongside him, my soft curves pressing against his firm angles in places, making my insides glow with an instant tingle I’m not expecting. His arms encircle me, one acting as a pillow for my head, and the other wrapping around my middle and arranging me so that my back and lower half are flush against his front. At first, I only notice the comforting warmth of him so close, but after a moment, I feel the hardness of him pressed against me. I can’t resist the urge to push back, wiggling my butt against him just to see his reaction.

He growls. We are lying so close together that I can feel it reverberate through me.

“It’s ... inappropriate,” he says. “I’m here to save your life, not …”

I turn toward him enough that he can see my smile as I answer. “Does everything have to be serious?”

He sighs. The evidence of his arousal is still against me, the dizzying length of a thick, hard cock—at least that’s my assumption of his anatomy; if it’s really that, it’s more than I could have imagined—not flagging in the least. It emboldens me, sends shivers of arousal through my body, and his gentle hip movements against my butt show how intensely he is trying to stop himself from going further. I feel amazing that I was right about the way he looks at me. At me. This gorgeous, powerful, wonderfully honorable man is this hard because of me.

But when he speaks again, it is heavy with disappointment. In himself; in the situation. “I am here to grant this one favor, before we part ways forever. It’s inappropriate. Because Velorians mate for life.”

Quite abruptly, my desire seems childish. There is a certain romance in the thought of mating for life, like soul mates in a fairytale or an old legend. But there is a bit of apprehension that comes with the thought. How can you possibly know you are choosing the right person?

The silence we fall into is awkward, and I break it as soon as I think of something to say. “That’s interesting, about the mating. I’d like to know more about your people—the Velorians.”

“What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “I like history.” I shrug and decide to be fully honest. “I like your voice.”

He lets out a rumble of satisfaction at the compliment, but swallows and rolls away from me just slightly. We are still close enough to share warmth, but not so intimately pressed together as we were. “You know we have yet to be accepted into the Federation. Would you like to know why?”

“I’m assuming it’s not a particularly happy tale,” I say. “But yes, go ahead.”

“We gained space travel too early in our cycle,” he begins. “We were a young species, ambitious and overconfident. We spread ourselves thin throughout this system, trying to gain as much territory as we could for ourselves. We were greedy.” As he speaks, I stare at the roof of the tent, imagining a map of stars against the dark blue surface. The tents are not terribly far from each other, but I cannot hear the sounds of anyone else over the wind.

“A group of aliens called the Xzerg—the race who sabotaged your meeting—picked a fight with us. They ambushed a group of ships on a colonizing mission. We had strayed into their territory without realizing it, but still felt that the attack had to be answered, and thought that perhaps we could win a few planets in the process. We sent large numbers of our warriors to do battle with them in open space.”

I don’t know what a battle in space looks like outside of sci-fi flicks, but I picture orange-red bursts of fireworks against the stars I’ve already conjured.

“When the Velorian warriors returned, they had been thoroughly punished for their arrogance. They found that the women and children they’d left on Veloria had been slaughtered in their absence. A surprise attack. A cowardly one.”

“All of them?” I ask, voice quiet, a lump growing in my throat at the thought of so much senseless death.

“Not all,” Vohx says. “But nearly—all those that did not manage to flee or hide. The only men we’d left behind were civilians, too old or sick or unimpressed by battle. They died trying to defend the weak.” He pauses and regards me at length, a glimmer of true interest in his eyes when he takes me in. “Velorian females were and are very small compared to the males. Soft, slow, slender. Human males and females have hardly any differences in comparison. Velorian females are not warriors, but human females are more suited to battling.

I nod. It’s as if he wants me to know I don’t compare to a Velorian female. I could take this as a reason he does not want me, or I could take this as a simple observation—maybe an assurance that he doesn’t believe females like me don’t belong in a war. I’m awed by the story of his people, though, and don’t want to make judgments like that about what he’s saying. I take it all at face value.

“After that, what started as a tussle for territory became a full-blown war. This is why the Federation will not allow us to join. We’re seen as too quick to fight.” He pauses, rolls so that he too is facing the ceiling of the tent. “All we want is to prove that we have learned from our mistakes so many generations ago. We want a chance.”

I warned myself that the tale would likely not be happy, but I am still surprised at the genuine grief that fills me at its conclusion. I feel horrified. It is not the sort of feeling that one gets following a particularly morbid horror film, but rather something deeper. This feels bone deep and leaves me with an ache in my chest that brings tears to my eyes. It feels almost as though it happened to me. I try to blink them back, embarrassed by my reaction, but a few tears escape and slide slowly down my cheeks. Just as I am about to turn away, Vohx’s hand settles on my shoulder and turns me toward him. He looks at the tears, watches them travel downward a few inches before gently wiping them away.

“You’re extraordinary,” he whispers. There is reverence in his voice and in his lips when he brings them to mine.

I understand the weight, the importance, in this action now. And that just makes me feel much more intensely. I’ve never felt arousal like the warmth that glows between my legs when Vohx’s lips touch mine. Not even close.

There is a chill in his kiss, but I suspect it is only there because he wants me to feel it. He wants there to be no illusions about what this is. He pulls back, and I surge forward, chasing the intoxicating sensation and pressing my lips against his to ask for more, to ask for whatever he is willing to give me. Judging from his earlier words, it will not be much, but I will take what I can get and happily live with any longing that comes after. His eyes meet mine, hold them so steadily that I feel as though he’s reading the thoughts that flit through my head. He pushes his mouth back against my own, this time opening his lips and inviting me inside as his hands trail down my shoulders and to my waist. The hands that hold me are huge and hard and emphatically not human, but I find that this merely makes the gentleness with which he touches me that much more novel.

When he pulls away, it is only to move slowly downward. His lips ghost over my neck as my hands fumble with the thin thermal shirt I had planned to fall asleep in. He lifts his lips again, but only for as long as it takes me to wrench the shirt over my head and toss it aside. I want to feel his skin, but I cannot figure out how to work the strange clasps of his clothing as he continues to move down my body, his tongue licking a line between two ribs as one hand cups my breast, his long fingers working carefully.

“You won’t break me,” I whisper with a smile, still surprised by the delicateness of his touch.

We cannot sleep together, not with all that entails. No matter how much we want to. But I have never felt a need like this. Right now I want Vohx like I want to quench an intense thirst. A lifesaving meal after a fast.

My feelings are primal: raw. And by the heavy look in his pure eyes, the deliberateness of his every action, the rumbling deep in his throat, I just understand deep in my soul that he feels the same.

Whatever happens will be a treasured memory, but it cannot be more, and that might make it even more beautiful.

“I know,” he says.

His fingers roll my hard nipple beneath my shirt, sending a twinge of arousal right to my already needy core.

He shifts position briefly to press a kiss beneath my jaw, before moving back down. It is plain that he is exploring a human body for the first time, and I am aware that he is testing me, seeing what I like and discovering what zones of my body elicit the most promising responses.

I let myself relax and show him, allow myself to gasp and shiver without holding back as my own hands explore his firm chest in return.

At last, he figures out what I’m hoping for and begins to strip out of the upper half of his clothing. His skin is easier to reach now, and it feels alternately cool and warm, as though his body can’t decide which to settle on. When his hands reach for my belt, the desire thrumming through me grows more overwhelming still, and I can barely contain it as he pulls my pants off. Once they have been tossed aside, I am expecting him to reach for the clasp of his own. Instead, he kneels between my legs and lowers his head.

While it’s not what I was expecting from a man who isn’t even the same species as me, I’m certainly not about to object. I let my knees fall open, inviting him in. His breath is maddeningly hot against me, despite the comparative coolness of his skin.

The flesh there has felt no touch aside from my own for quite a while, nearly over a year now truthfully, and the first touch of his tongue has me squirming with pleasure. I want to push into him, to gain more friction as fast as I can get it; I settle instead for exploring the parts of him I can still reach from this angle, fingers trailing over the spines that make a path down his shoulders to his tail. He laps at my sensitive clit with a skilled persistence that makes me moan, heedless of the tents within a short distance of our own. I drape my legs over his shoulders, carefully avoiding the spines I just mapped out with my fingers, and hold on. It turns out the spines are perfect rests for the sides of my ankles.

His tongue gains purpose, and though I know he can’t have done this before, it certainly feels like he has. Or at least has dreamt of it for some time. The thought makes me quiver more violently with the next focused traces of his tongue against my most sensitive area. The thought of him thinking about me, like this. Alone. Conflicted.

“Vohx,” I say, his name in place of an incoherent sound. He lifts one hand to grip my searching fingers, and keeps going. I am so absorbed in the feeling of our joined hands, in the pleased rumbles he makes against me, that when I climax it surprises me.

Orgasms had never been elusive to me, but this is different somehow, than both my own stimulation and the attempts of the sparse handful of men I have slept with previously. I have never been with someone who seemed focused so solely on my pleasure, on my comfort. Even now, when my muscles cease their clenching and my back leaves its arch to rest against the rumpled sleeping bag below me, he remains between my thighs. He waits for my eyes to find him and lifts one side of his mouth in a grin that looks just as satisfied as I feel. If I ask him to stay there, I have a feeling that he will.

The smile on my face feels reflexive, if a bit hazy, and I could not banish it if I tried. I tug at the single hand I still hold.

“Come here,” I tell him, and he obliges.

This time, when he kisses me, I can taste myself on his lips. Somehow, this encounter feels more right than any I’ve had previously, like something missing has finally slotted into place. I put one hand against the side of his face, resting my palm there against his blue skin. The contrast between us looks like perfection. I lie still for a moment, catching my breath, head cradled against his chest in the position in which we have fallen. My muscles feel as loose as unraveling string, and it takes me a moment to coax my tongue into forming something longer than my previous request.

“Will you mate with me?” I ask, because I cannot imagine anything more perfect, anything more profound. Now that I have this, I do not want to lose it, and I can tell from the look in Vohx’s eyes that he does not want to either.

Despite the same want living within him, he takes the time to pause, to whisper a question into my skin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I answer, with not a trace of hesitation in my tone.

My limbs tangle around him as he kisses me senseless, my hands once again navigating the trail of spines along his back and shoulders. He seems to gasp with pleasure each time I graze my fingers over the sensitive skin at one’s base, and so I make sure to do it often. I do my best to undress him the rest of the way, though my motions are fragmentary, as I pause each time his lips and his teeth devoure a new part of me. At last, he is as bare as I am.

“You understand that …” he begins, but trails off, eyes staring into mine with lids heavy, adoration obvious. “My human, there may be no going back. I am speaking emotionally. For me, this mating will be it. I will be yours for eternity.”

Mine for eternity. We have spent just a short time together, but I can simply think of nothing I want more. He is so strong inside and out. I have never felt seen like this, wanted like this, known like this. I feel protected in a way I didn’t ever know I wanted to be. I feel like the universe has finally slotted me into my space in the puzzle that is life.

And it’s pressed against the firm, cool ridges of my Velorian warrior.

He straightens himself out, swishing that strange, thick tail behind him as I bite my lip. He looks almost as undone as I am, already, as he releases an ice blue cock beaded with precum. The length is thankfully devoid of anything strange like spines, but it is proportionate to his thick, broad frame. He is the epitome of masculinity and he has the thick, ridged cock to prove it. His gentle strokes up and down that perfect shaft drive me crazy as his eyes take in every part of me, and glimmers of unabashed adoration, lust, and wonder take over him one after the other. Vohx doesn’t hide a thing he feels, and right now all he wants to feel is me.

There is no need now to go slow. I am already more than ready, and when he pushes that intimidating length into me, I see stars on the roof of the tent once more. Even the rhythm we find together seems perfect, and somehow, despite the vast differences of our bodies, we seem made to fit one another.

It’s an overwhelming feeling to be one hundred percent sure about something. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way before. Sure, to the bone. To the core.

I move one hand between my legs, fingers searching. Though I’ve already climaxed once, I ache to do so again, my body clenching around his length with each thrust as I do my best to keep the sounds he draws out from me growing loud enough to draw attention.

He anticipates the movement, catches my hand and moves his own into place. I wonder if all Velorians pick up new tricks so easily, and return to stimulating the spines along his back in thanks. His hand trails over the sensitive skin of my stomach, making me shudder in pleasure as he continues the steady rhythm, before moving my own hand aside and taking over my deliberate circles. He draws his fingers across my nub with movements that seem far more practiced than they should be, timing each stroke with his increasingly fast, hard thrusts. Whatever reservations he had about being too much for me seem to have evaporated, I realize with a smile. I rise up as much as I can and press my lips to the hollow of his throat.

“Extraordinary,” Vohx rumbles again, and when he reaches his end with a low, powerful growl and the systematic tensing of his every muscle, I find my own right afterward, his hand still working diligently even as he convulses with pleasure.

It was certainly memorable the first time, but this is something different; something more. I feel as though we’re connected on a realm far deeper than the physical. I feel inexplicably invigorated, as though I could fight off an entire pack of waelef by myself. Both of us breathing hard, he lies beside me, arranging me so that I am lying on top of him, feeling his lungs heaving in the cool air; the rush of blood through his veins. The muscled expanse of his chest is the perfect balance of hot—alive—and chilled, comfortably, like the cool side of a pillow. I’m still filled with an overwhelming sense of strength, and feel nothing close to the normal urge to rest.

“What just happened?” I ask, still leaning against him, hoping that this is something he is familiar with, a normal part of relations with a Velorian that can be explained.

“We mated,” he answers.

“I know that,” I say, tilting my head back to smile at him. “I mean what’s this feeling. It’s—I don’t know how to describe it. I feel like I could run a marathon or lift a truck.”

Vohx looks concerned for me. It is hard to see his face from my current position, and the shadows the lantern casts make the angles of his handsome face look different, but I can see him with more than just my eyes. It’s impossible to explain. I can feel the draconic warrior with my every sense; can trace his presence just as easily when I blink as when I look deep into his eyes. His heartbeat sends shudders through my palm and harmonizes with my own. “Is it a frightening feeling?”

“No,” I answer. “It’s different, but it feels … right, somehow.” I pause. “That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

He is quiet, thinking. I trail my fingers over his arm, waiting for the electric feeling to dissipate so that I can rest. We have a long way to walk tomorrow. Vohx grabs my hand and freezes, before lifting it up, holding me gently by the wrist, to show me the ice crystals forming on my fingertips. There is no pain. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Holy crap,” I whisper. “How am I doing that?”

“There’s no way you should be able to, unless …” He trails off, looking a mix of thoughtful and amazed. His eyes are shining, and I know even though I am not touching him that his heartbeat has kicked up a notch; that he is feeling tentatively gleeful. How do I know? “What else do you know about Velorian history?”

I shake my head. “Next to nothing,” I answer, not wanting to state that my only exposure to his kind prior to this came from an alien dating simulator.

“When we first began to explore the galaxies, we went as far as we could, investigating every planet that was habitable. Our DNA is compatible with most other humanoid species, and it wasn’t uncommon for the explorers to breed with females native to other planets. It stands to reason that the same thing could have happened on Earth several generations ago.”

It takes me a moment to absorb the words, unexpected as they are. However far fetched it sounds, there is nothing else that explains the way I’m feeling. “So you’re saying ... that I could have Velorian blood? That ...” I let my mouth fall open. Is that why I was always happier in the cold? Is that why I never felt completely, totally, at ease on Earth? Why I always yearned to travel and explore space? I have a little tiny drop of alien blood within me ...

Vohx nods. “Just a touch. But enough that when we mated, it stirred the DNA already within you. It, for lack of a better word, recognized me. We may bond in the same way a Velorian couple would: deeply. The latent part of your DNA is likely working to improve your human body—making you stronger, faster, healthier. That’s why you feel so … invigorated.”

The ice on my fingertips is beginning to fade.

“Recognized you, how?” As someone who works with science and fact and anatomy, I’m struggling to understand. But I know what I see and I know what I feel. “As another Velorian?” I ask. There are one thousand questions spinning through my brain. I try to settle on asking only the most important.

He hesitates, thinks about the words before he says them, but ultimately lets them free. “As your mate,” he says, wearing a smile that looks almost sheepish. “If I weren’t, then the mating would not have affected you in such a way. Not to mention that you would have been as cold here as the men.”

“You mean like actual honest to goodness soulmates?” I ask.

“In a way,” Vohx says, his smile deep and true;the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

My chest is warm and my every cell begs me to press myself against him. I have never felt purpose, safety, happiness like this.

“Velorians believe that our mates are fated, written in the stars. Those of us who stubbornly follow our will are rewarded with finding them.” He runs his tongue over his lower lip as he thinks of how best to share this all with me. “I knew to go to X24 today but I didn’t know why.”

The doubt slowly vanishes. All my life I’ve felt pulled to travel beyond the bounds of Earth and its surrounding colonies and stations. I recall the pigheaded insistence with which I’d taken part in every aspect of this mission, and smile. It may seem like a fairytale explanation, but that does not make it feel any less right. Vohx is mine and I am his. The knowledge settles warmly in my chest as Vohx pulls me back against him, pressing his lips to my temple, before he flicks the last waning lantern off.

“I believe you,” I whisper to the darkness. His grip tightens subtly and the sigh he releases sounds like relief.

I dream of sitting in the cockpit of a small spaceship, Vohx’s hands adjusting mine around the controls, a smile in his voice as he explains them, his warmth against my back. I wake to my legs tangled with his, my face tucked into his chest and each huff of his breath stirring the hair on top of my head. He wakes when I wrap my hand around his length. His smile is as feral as my own. “Again?” he asks, laughing shortly.

“Again,” I echo, and his head dips, his tongue circling my tight nipples. His fingers dipping into my eager entrance, massaging every part of me just the way I want, when I want. It’s definitely not so bad to have a lover who can read you like a favorite book. It’s amazing just how much can change so fast.

He presses his perfect lips against mine, firm and soft, just as his thick alien cock stretches my channel once again, and I know that this is it: he’s my future, my present. And I’m totally, thoroughly, his.