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