Luna’s Alien Mates

Chapter 4

Vallyn

The hut was too quiet, too tense. Vallyn stood outside, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him as he listened to the muffled voices inside. When the raised voice of the strange female—Luna—cut through the air, he silently thanked the Goddess that he was not within those walls.

This was why he never wished for a chosen mate. Females were fierce, unrelenting, demanding. He had seen what happened to males who failed to please them. Punishments could be cruel, humiliating, and final. No—better to be a smaller warrior, unnoticed, spared the heat of a female’s wrath.

And yet, as the sound of her anger rolled through the hut, his chest tightened—not from fear for himself, but for Axoh.

He had stood beside Axoh for most of his life. They had trained together, bled together, laughed in the firelight when other warriors had turned in for the night. Axoh was his brother in every way that mattered. But now… now that he had been named as one of the protectors of this strange female, their bond would change. Vallyn would no longer be at his side as shield and shadow. Others would take his place. Others would guard him, and he would be left behind.

The thought hollowed him, more than he expected.

The hut door burst open. Vallyn’s head snapped toward it, heart kicking as Axoh stumbled out, his face pinched with worry.

“Vallyn,” Axoh whispered urgently, his eyes darting back toward the hut as though the female might emerge at any second. “Please, help me explain to her that she does not choose her mates. That the Queen decides. I spoke truth, but I fear she does not understand. She is angry, Clan brother. I fear she will punish me.”

Before Vallyn could respond, the door pushed open again. And she appeared.

The female Luna.

Her scent hit him first—wild and foreign, like flowers that bloomed only once every season. It stole his breath, muddled his thoughts, sent something primal and unwanted rushing through his veins. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, and he straightened sharply, willing discipline into his stance. She would not see weakness. He would not allow it.

But he could not let Axoh stand alone beneath her wrath. So, against Clan law, against every instinct hammered into him since boyhood, he spoke.

“Female Luna,” Vallyn said, his voice low but steady, “you do not choose your mates. The Queen has chosen for you. From the Zaali Clan, the strongest, the most loyal, five of the best warriors. They are yours.”

The words were heavy, forbidden. His heart thundered as silence followed. He braced, waiting for the blow, the sharp order, the punishment.

Her translator crackled, repeating his words in her own language.

She froze. Her small foot struck the ground, sharp enough to make him flinch. His chest tightened—he had seen anger before, but not like this, not mixed with such strange beauty. Her hands covered her face, and when she lowered them, the storm in her expression had softened into something else.

Her eyes—strange, bright, too beautiful to look at directly—lifted to him.

“Thank you,” she said at last, her voice carrying through the device. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry I yelled. I was shocked, that’s all.”

Then she turned and vanished back into the hut, leaving him and Axoh staring after her in stunned silence.

Vallyn exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking. “She did not punish me,” he murmured, half in disbelief. “Even though I am not her chosen. Even though I spoke out of turn. Do you think she waits… saving her punishment for when her chosen arrive?”

Axoh shuddered. “Perhaps. I only know I must make her happy until Nezyn comes. If she complains to him…” He shook his head, pale at the thought. “No. I cannot let that happen.”

Vallyn returned to his post, though his mind was restless. He told himself to focus on the horizon, to listen for threats, to do what he had always done—guard. Yet the memory of her voice clung to him, haunting.

The scent of roasting meat drifted through the air, making his stomach ache. He swallowed down the hunger, knowing the feast was not for him. Only after the female had eaten would there be scraps left for warriors like him. His duty was to wait, always to wait.

“Vallyn.”

His name.

He stiffened, heart stumbling. He had never heard it spoken like that—soft, lilting, almost like a song. Not the clipped syllables of his Clan, but something sweeter, warmer. He turned, uncertain.

“Vallyn,” she called again, her voice carrying through the translator but still not enough to drown out her true tone.

Axoh’s voice followed quickly, urgent. “Come. She asks for you.”

His pulse raced. Was this it? His punishment? Better now than later, he told himself. Better her hand than Nezyn’s wrath. He entered the hut, head bowed, ready.

But when he lifted his gaze, what he saw shattered every expectation.

She sat at a low table, her small hands resting near an empty plate. The spread before her was abundant—meats, fruits, roots prepared with care. Yet she had not touched them. Her strange eyes met his, and she smiled faintly.

“Are you not hungry?” the translator echoed.

He blinked, uncomprehending. Her words were not sharp, not cruel. They were… gentle. Almost concerned.

The sound of her real voice, softer beneath the device’s mechanical tone, stirred something in him he did not have a name for. He found himself aching to hear it without the interference, to hear her raw and true.

Axoh shifted nervously. “You eat, Female Luna. Eat until your belly is full. We will finish what you do not.”

But she shook her head, gesturing to the stools near her. “Sit. Eat.”

They froze. It was unheard of. A female offering her table to warriors who were not her mates? Impossible.

When neither of them moved, she rose, and instinct made Vallyn flinch. Shame scorched through him at the way her face fell. Had he offended her again? His chest tightened, panic clawing at him.

“Oh, Goddess,” he thought. “Tell me what to do.”

She did not eat. She did not even lift her hand toward the food. Instead, she stared at them, her lips trembling.

“Please,” she said softly, her voice breaking through the translator. “Don’t speak about me when I cannot understand. It isn’t fair.”

The words sliced through the room. And that was when Vallyn saw them—tears glistening on her cheeks.

He froze. Axoh too.

Tears.

Never in his life had he seen a female weep. Aashi women did not cry. They punished, they raged, they commanded—but they did not shed tears.

Something inside Vallyn cracked wide open. The instinct to flee battled with something deeper, something older. He wanted to step closer, to shield her, to wipe those tears from her face and promise she would never need to shed them again.

But he remained still, torn between law and longing, fear and desire.

And in that stillness, a dangerous truth took root inside him.

This female, not yet of their Clan, not yet his—had already become something he could not look away from. Something he could not ignore.

Something he might be willing to risk everything for.