Page 8 of Delivered to My Alpha Alien Lovers (Mail-Order Matings #20)
Farsel
Huddled under the blankets, I tried to summon the energy to get up and shower. The female I had picked out had blocked me, and I was sure she was the one. Having contacted her even that much, even without a positive response, had kicked my mating sickness into high gear. If I hadn’t found her, it might have allowed me more time, but as my father warned me, once the connection happened, everything moved fast.
I had assumed it meant a person-to-person meeting. Face-to-face rather than a message that hadn’t even been replied to, but judging by how awful I felt, it didn’t matter how minimal the connection.
Clutching my phone, I tried to work my way past the block to reach our mate again. Amaris was such a beautiful name, and her picture had shown me a female whose appearance matched her name. Not that her visuals like that mattered where mates were concerned. I’d never said I hope our mate is pretty—I’d hoped for intelligent, kind, with a good sense of humor. We would grow old together with wrinkles and other signs of aging, would probably never look better than we did right at this moment.
So, while she would be wonderful to look at now, those good qualities I sought would make her a pleasure to wake up next to even when we were old and gray. I didn’t have proof that she would be all those wonderful things, but she would be my mate and therefore perfect for me. For us.
But no matter how hard I tried or how many messages I sent to admin, I was unable to convince anyone to let me try again. If someone was blocked, then they’d made their choice, and nothing could be done. My phone was currently down in the kitchen because it was no use to me at all. I pulled the covers up to my chin and tried to go back to sleep. Our mate had rejected us, and although it might not kill him, having come so close to mating and losing her forever would hurt him deeply.
Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. But no because the only way he’d be able to go forward was in full knowledge of the fact that he’d never be able to meet his mate because I screwed it up for both of us.
I flipped the covers over my head and squeezed my eyes closed. After a while, during which time I lay awake and aching, a rap came on my open door.
“Farsel? Can I get you anything?”
Did he know I had mating sickness? I hadn’t told him so. “No, just lounging in bed for once. I’m fine.”
The blanket and sheet were pulled down, revealing the concerned expression on my friend’s face looming over me. “You’ve never lounged in bed in your lifetime. Are you sick?”
Did he guess? Humiliation surged through me. There was nothing worse than mating sickness among our people, and if anyone found out one member of our family—me—suffered from it, it would ruin all the rest of them. “I think I ate something bad last night. My stomach is a little upset.”
“We ate the same dinner. You look like shit, by the way.”
“Oh thanks. I guess whatever we ate just didn’t agree with me, then.”
“Liar.” He plopped down in the chair next to the bed and glared at me. “We’ve never been dishonest with one another, and while I was willing to pretend I didn’t know about what might happen to you, now that it’s occurring, don’t try to deny it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words flowed from my mouth, a betrayal of the bond of friendship and brotherhood we shared. But it was like I couldn’t stop them, the urge to protect my family from even him too strong. From almost birth, I’d been warned not to tell anyone ever of our weakness. “I just need to rest awhile. In fact, I feel fine now. I’m getting up.”
I kicked the blanket away and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing…too fast.
My friend caught me and steadied me before I could hit the floor. “Now, done lying?”
I opened my mouth to deny it again then snapped it shut and nodded.
“Take a shower and come down to the kitchen for breakfast, and we’ll talk.” He grasped my shoulders and turned me toward the bathroom. “If you think you can manage that?”
“Of course I can.” I shrugged his grip aside and took a step away from him. “But there’s not much to talk about.”
“I’m going to make pancakes.”
My favorite. I went from rigid to slumped over. “Thank you.”
“Whatever happens, I’m here for you, but I think I have the cure for what, as they say on this planet ‘ails you.’”
He couldn’t possibly, but I nodded and headed into the shower. The steaming water helped a bit, and I was able to get dressed and manage the stairs down to the main floor of our home. In the kitchen, there was a tall stack of hotcakes on a plate, another of eggs, and a pot of coffee waiting for me. My stomach growled.
“Sit down and eat, and I’ll talk while you do.”
Since starving held no attraction, I did what he said, and by the time my belly was half filled, so was my heart with hope.
My friend had managed to reach around my mistake and contact our mate. He was going to ask her to meet us.
“I don’t know why I didn’t ask you to give it a shot.”
“Because you thought you were hiding your mating sickness from me.” He added more pancakes to my plate. “Eat up. You need your strength.”
“Who else knows?” Every person who did was a potential danger to my family.
“I’m not sure exactly. My family does, and probably a few others close to yours. And before you ask, we’ve always known. Your secret is safe with us. Right now, our concern is getting you mated before you are too sick to recover.”
“Thank you, friend.”
“Eat. And trust that everything will be all right.”
“I trust that you will do your best to help that happen.” And what more could I do? It was a heck of a lot better situation than I’d awakened to.