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“No, you won’t talk about Garrison, or no, you’re not bond-mated?”
“No to both, but I meant the bond-mating.”
“Your job doesn’t allow for relationships,” I guessed.
“I’m not often on Nomoru, and females aren’t interested in someone who looks like me.” He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.
“What do you mean, someone who looks like you? They don’t like ruggedly handsome men?”
He turned his head.
Heat flooded my cheeks. Thank goodness for dim light. My face was probably bright red. “Objectively speaking.” I squirmed.
“Objectively speaking, my mixed genetics don’t meet Copan standards. Females don’t want a half-breed bond-mate.”
Arasetans and Copans didn’t mate out of their species. Hell, they didn’t want to breed with each other, and they were the same species. It was like a blond rejecting a brunette.
“You must meet a lot of female aliens. Aren’t they more open?”
“Most are not biologically compatible. Of the ones who are—” He slid out of bed. “How about some breakfast?”
“Wouldn’t want a human?” I guessed. Nobody wanted a human, except for the slavers and their buyers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t wish to insult you.”
“I’m not insulted. If they don’t see our worth, that says more about them than us.” If the slimy, tentacled grayish blobs of the galaxy looked down on us, well, fuck ’em. We could live a happy life just fine without their approval. Our worth did not require external validation. “I’m sorry for you,” I said.
He shrugged. “It hasn’t been an issue in the way you’re thinking. The vast majority of people have no idea what humans look like, so they don’t see me and think oh, he’s half human. Most don’t even realize I’m not fully Copan. Only Copans and Arasetans recognize I’m not a pureblood, but they have no personal association with humans, so they don’t know what I’m mixed with. As I’m seldom on Nomoru, the subject of my parentage rarely arises. However, if I did get involved with someone, I would need to disclose my genetics.”
He opened the door. “I’ll fix us some breakfast.”
Chapter Sixteen
Maxx
What is it about that woman that loosens my tongue? She’s a subtle, but relentless interrogator.
Something about her made me want to confide in her. Before I realized what I was doing, I’d revealed I was half human. There was no reason to share that kind of personal information.
By tomorrow evening, the mission would be finished one way or another, and we would part company. End of probing discussions. End of temptation. I could leave this planet behind.
Would have to leave. Subject to the rules of no-contact, I would be in violation of the law if I stayed after the mission ended. I could be arrested.
I popped a couple of frozen vegetable omelets in the flash cooker and set about brewing some coffee. I couldn’t stomach the bitter, vile stuff, but humans seemed to like it. My mother did. One of the few benefits of being stationed on New Terra was that I’d been able to bring her back her beloved beverage. The first time I’d gone home on leave and brought her a couple of bags of beans, she’d cried.
As much as I identified and lived as Copan, I couldn’t escape the reality of irrefutable, immutable genetics. My hands were the first giveaway. I could have surgically removed the extra finger, but my hands still wouldn’t have looked “normal,” i.e. Copan, and I couldn’t hurt my mother. Not mentioning I was part human was different than trying to erase my humanity. She had encouraged me to take steps to make my life easier, but to deny my genetics would be to deny her. I loved her with all my heart. Because of her, I’d joined the LOP. Because of her, I fought to save her people.
But there was no question my mixed genetics had limited my options. My odd appearance would make me an outcast on Nomoru. Besides my telltale fingers, my fur grew sparse, even patchy in spots, my horns were stubby by Copan standards, my forehead was more flatter than ridged, and I lacked the tusks considered desirable in a bond-mate.
Those traits enabled me to pass for human on New Terra—if I shaved and kept my horns covered.
In reality, I didn’t fit in either world.
My enlistment with the LOP had afforded me the closest thing to a normal life. Prior to this assignment, my work had taken me to the far-flung corners of the galaxy, where I was not the strangest sight to behold. If I never bond-mated, well, I still lived a good life.
“Is that coffee I smell?” Jessie appeared.
“Do you take anything in it?”
