Taken by the Alien Next Door (Aliens Among Us #1) - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,139

for helping me find it.”

“It has been an honor, Zevris. I will never find another althicar to match you.”

“The honor has been mine, Khelvar. There will never be an ultricar to match you.”

Smiling, Khelvar lifted his hand and gave Zevris a firm pat on the shoulder. “Now we don’t have to worry about formalities anymore.”

“You’ve seemed less and less concerned with them over the last year or two, regardless,” Zevris replied.

“Well, I have been considering retirement. Perhaps on a small, quiet planet.” Khelvar’s gaze dipped to Zevris’s arm—specifically, to the markings hidden under Zevris’s sleeve. “The medical team is equipped to alter your markings so they reflect the truth of your status.”

“Thank you.” Zevris gestured to the back door. “Shall we head back inside? The examination should nearly be through.”

“How could you know that?” Khelvar asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Instinct.”

The two falorans walked to the back door, entered the house, and proceeded to the living room. Zevris sat on one of the couches as Khelvar strolled around the room, studying the objects on display. There were pictures of Zevris and Tabitha, of the places they’d been together, some of which were paired with souvenirs they’d collected during those trips. Tabitha had hung up a couple of lovely paintings on the walls, including one of white flowers that hung upside-down like bells—lilies of the valley.

Zevris grinned whenever he looked at it.

The bookcase—which Zevris had built upon moving in—was filled with all sorts of books, trinkets, and framed pictures, the most prominent of which were the photos taken on their wedding day. Tabitha, who’d already been the most beautiful female in existence, had looked infinitely more radiant that day, her boundless joy and love having made her shine brighter than the sun.

Zevris smiled to himself and leaned forward, running his hand across the surface of the coffee table. He’d been inspired by the table Hank had commissioned, and this one here was Zevris’s favorite work to date. It was shaped like a thick slice taken from a huge tree, its surface finished in a way that complemented the natural grain. There were subtle Faloran patterns etched into the wood, flowing along with that grain—and amidst them was the date upon which Zevris and Tabitha had been wed.

Thinking back on all the time he and Tabitha had spent together, all the things they’d done, was almost surreal. They’d packed so much into the months they’d shared, but Zevris always wanted more. More of her company, her touch, her voice, more of her scent and taste.

It was difficult to fathom that their wedding was already four months behind them. In some ways, it seemed like only days ago that he’d stood beneath an arch adorned with evergreen boughs and red and white flowers. The gathering had been small, and despite the chill in the air, everyone had been brimming with excitement. The sky had been overcast and gray but for one wide patch through which the sun had beamed.

Just before Tabitha had walked down the aisle, a light snowfall had begun. Zevris had never believed in magic until he’d watched his mate, resplendent in her white dress, walking toward him with that bright smile and sparkling eyes as glittering snowflakes swirled and danced in the golden afternoon sunlight.

That moment had only one equal across all eternity—when Zevris had first held his tiny, perfect newborn daughter two days ago.

“For all the places we’ve been and all the things we’ve done,” Khelvar said, “neither of us could ever have anticipated any of this.”

“No, we couldn’t have.” Zevris smiled to himself and dropped his gaze, tracing his fingers over the date etched on the table. Though the table’s surface was smooth, finished wood, he could feel that date in his soul.

Voices sounded from upstairs, muffled by a closed door.

Khelvar paused, turning his head to glance toward the stairs. “What is happening up there?”

Zevris’s smile widened as the voices grew louder. “I believe the examination is over.”

A door opened in the upstairs hallway, and suddenly the voices were clearer. A group of full-grown faloran males—the medical team—were protesting, their words stumbling over each other in a nonsensical jumble.

“No more poking and prodding my baby,” Tabitha commanded, speaking loudly and firmly but with immense calm and control. “I’ve had enough poking and prodding from the lot of you to last me a lifetime.”

When the males started talking again, she silenced them with a quick nope.

“She has spoken,” declared Ivreni, the faloran midwife Khelvar had sent to assist with Tabitha’s pregnancy