Nine Hot Therians and Their Only One Queen novel Chapter 4

**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**
**Chapter 4: Matched With a Freeloader? – Part 1**

As soon as Emma stepped through the threshold of her home, she kicked her boots off with a soft thud against the wall. The lightcore device was tossed carelessly onto the counter, its soft glow flickering momentarily before settling into a steady light. She had no time to waste; dinner awaited her, and it certainly wasn’t going to prepare itself.

The menu for the evening was simple yet comforting: a warm bowl of tomato soup, crispy fried beast cutlet, and a jar of her own homemade pickles—each item crafted with care and love. On paper, it might have seemed basic, but as she set the table, the rich, savory aroma wafted through the air, making her mouth water in anticipation.

In this part of the world, meals like this were a rare indulgence. Most beastfolk had little to no culinary skills, surviving instead on thick, sludgy nutrient fluids that tasted like a blend of misery and despair. Emma grimaced at the thought; she loathed those concoctions. The taste was so vile that it lingered on her tongue for hours, a constant reminder of the drudgery of survival. During hunting trips, she begrudgingly carried some, swallowing them down with a grimace, each gulp a battle against her own senses.

There was another variant of nutrient fluid, designed specifically for females, which was made from fruits and vegetables. It had a slightly more palatable flavor—more akin to juice—but it was far beyond her financial reach. The mutated crops that produced such sustenance were fiercely guarded by vicious beasts, and the effort to create just one vial drained a mountain of produce.

Emma’s mind raced as she recalled the price: nearly 800,000 star coins for a single vial. Each time she saw one, she mentally crunched the numbers. I could work my fingers to the bone for a week and maybe scrape together 100,000 star coins. A whole month of grueling labor, and I still wouldn’t have enough for even one.

With fruit nutrient fluids being impossible to obtain and meat nutrient fluids utterly repulsive, she was left with only one viable option—her own cooking. Thankfully, she had honed her skills since childhood, and the act of creating meals brought her genuine joy.

After enjoying her dinner to the fullest, she allowed her smart robot to handle the cleaning duties while she slipped into her training room. There, she focused on reinforcing her newfound Rank 4 strength. A long, refreshing shower followed, and she finally sank onto her bed with a contented sigh, flicking open her lightcore to check her messages.

Her heart sank as she saw nine matches listed, but not a single ping or greeting awaited her.

Emma tapped her fingers rhythmically against the mattress, contemplating whether to swallow her pride and send the first message. Just as she was about to make that decision, her screen lit up, revealing a name that made her heart skip a beat—Damian, her lucky number one.

His message read, ‘Hello, Ms. Tibarn. I’m Damian Voss. I apologize for the late reply. Something came up earlier, and I couldn’t reach out until now. Please forgive me!’

Emma blinked in surprise at the courteous tone. At least he seems polite. Maybe he really did get caught up in something. Without hesitating, she typed back, ‘No worries. Take care of what you need to first. I’m not in a rush.’

See? Totally reasonable. No way I’m starting this whole “mate” thing by coming off as clingy.

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, Damian stared at her response, a frown creasing his brow. What kind of female doesn’t ask questions? Aren’t they supposed to be demanding, curious even? He shook his head, bemused, and typed again.

‘Glad you’re not upset, Ms. Tibarn. You’re sweeter than I deserve. I wish I could teleport straight to you.’

Damian: I want to see you so badly, but I don’t even have the fare. I’m stuck on Central Planet, and a starra ticket to F-268 costs 500,000 star coins.

Emma’s mind raced as she processed the information. She knew precisely how much that ticket cost. When she first arrived on F-268, she had taken the starrail herself—a space-time teleportation ride that was blisteringly fast and efficient.

Her brows furrowed as she read each line, doubt creeping in with every word.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Did this male just ask me for money? Already?

We haven’t even met yet, and he’s pulling the broke-boy routine. This is like exchanging numbers after a blind date, and the male immediately asks if you can cover his rent.

Yeah, no. Not happening.

She snorted, flipping onto her side, her mind racing with thoughts. Good thing the Beastmate System gives me three months to decide. If this is who I’ve been matched with, I’ll hit that dissolve button so fast, his head’ll spin.