was also much easier for the Azmus Protectorate to claim a single compromised althicar had been a rogue operative and deny responsibility.
“Has anyone made progress?”
Khelvar was silent for several seconds before replying in a gravelly voice, “I believe you already know the answer to that question.”
Zevris did, at heart. They’d all managed as much—or as little—progress as he had. He wasn’t sure whether to take comfort in that shared failure or be disheartened by it.
He leaned back on the couch, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He’d made a grave mistake—he’d allowed himself to hope. He’d allowed himself to plan, if only a little, based on desires that had not yet taken root in reality.
“How long?” Zevris asked.
“Thirty days. Earth time.”
“If I were to advance the mission during that time? If I were to form a mating bond?”
“Then you would effectively extend your service period.” There was a moment’s pause before Khelvar spoke again. “When you came to me and requested release, Zevris, you were ready to be done. I offered you this mission because you’re my best, and this is important. More important than anything else. But I never meant for it to be a punishment. I hoped it would be a chance for you to find something… more. Something beyond what you’ve always known.”
Zevris lifted his head to look at Khelvar.
The ultricar was frowning, his brow heavy and eyes concerned. “You don’t need to push. This is not going to mar your record with a failure. Just…prepare to come home.”
But Strion—the planet he should have called home—was the farthest thing from Zevris’s mind in that moment. After eleven months of failure, he now had a mere thirty days to woo the female who had captivated him. The sudden imposition of a deadline was terrifying.
And yet…it was also another flicker of hope. He would have to work harder than ever to solve this problem—to properly court his female. It would be the final, most complex, most important undertaking of his career as an althicar—the most important undertaking of his life.
It really was too bad he couldn’t just take Tabitha and figure out the rest later.
Seven
“I love it! Your new house is freaking adorable,” Mia squealed through the speaker as Tabitha aimed the phone’s camera at the front of the house. “They’re like perfect little dollhouses all lined up.”
Tabitha raised a hand and shielded her eyes from the sun as she scanned the row of houses along the street. Each home differed slightly in color and layout. They all stood two stories tall, they each had a single car garage and one tree in the front yard, though the species of tree and the shrubs and bushes around them varied from place to place. A few had iron-railed balconies on the second floor—which Tabitha was mighty jealous of.
There was just enough variety to keep the neighborhood from looking boring and uninspired, but the many similarities between properties made them all seem like pieces in a puzzle fitted neatly together.
“Huh. You’re right,” Tabitha said. “They do look like dollhouses.”
And she absolutely loved them.
She lowered her phone and switched back to the self-facing camera as she walked toward her front door. Mia’s face appeared on the screen. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her dark brown eyes gleamed with excitement, and she wore a huge grin. Her red lipstick was a stunning contrast to her dark complexion.
“I can’t wait to visit once you’re all moved in,” Mia said, picking up a slice of pizza off her plate and taking a bite. She chewed for a moment before moving the food to the side of her mouth to talk. “How’d the move go?”
Tabitha wrinkled her nose as she opened the door and carefully let herself into the house. Dexter jumped down from the sofa and rushed toward her, his nails tapping on the floor. She quickly shut the door before he could make a break for it.
“The movers were horrible.” Tabitha scratched Dexter behind his ears and made her way into the kitchen. “They took forever unloading the truck, and they didn’t pay any attention to the labels on the boxes so everything wound up scattered all over the house. And they weren’t careful with anything.” She set her cell on the phone stand atop the dining table.
“Did they break anything?” Mia asked.
Dexter walked to the patio doors. He pressed his wet nose against the glass and stared outside. His breath fogged the glass around his