The Alien King's Baby by Malloy, Shea, Wells, Juno (1)

THE ALIEN KING'S BABY

 

SHEA MALLOY

Copyright © 2016, Shea Malloy

 

All rights reserved.

 

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

Contents

 

 

“I want you,” he groaned against her lips.

 

He's tall, arrogant and sexy. He's an alien king who saved her life one moment then abducted her the next.

 

Oh, yeah, and she's pregnant with his baby.

 

Wait. What?

 

A receptionist at a straw supply company, Megan Landay is content with her ordinary life. Sure she still harbours some resentment toward her asshole ex, but that's normal. What's not normal is the sudden appearance of the skilled alien warrior, Mikaal Ahrisi. Even worse is his arrogant demand she stay on his planet long enough to give birth to his child.

 

The petite human female isn't Mikaal’s ideal choice as a mother to his offspring, but he no longer has a choice in the matter. Feisty and stubborn beyond reason, she's not like any of the women on his planet. Her presence in his life should be temporary, but as time passes he becomes uncertain if he should ever let her go.

 

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Megan

 

I need to get out of here.

Megan got to her feet and moved away from the table. The sound of chatter and laughter receded as she left the hotel’s dining room. Outside, the coolness of the air refreshed her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she leaned against the wall and stared up at the dark expanse of the night sky. She slowly counted the tiny bright spots dotting the sky and she remembered an old saying that said counting stars was bad luck. Megan didn’t hold much weight for superstitious beliefs.

She looked away from the sky to gaze across the land the hotel sat on. Though she’d regretted opting in on coming to the work retreat at first, she was glad she did now that she was here. Despite the ridiculous ‘team-building’ and ‘problem-solving’ exercises she was forced to endure with her coworkers, it was nice to spend two days in a decent hotel in the midst of nature. In the day time, mountains and valleys could be seen, with various areas that held equipment for the exercises required on this retreat. At night everything was shrouded, visible only in silhouettes because of the lighted areas of the hotel.

It felt good to be outside and away from everyone else. As the newest employee at Klauber’s Straw Supplies, she hardly knew anyone. She’d thought it was a good idea to attend the retreat and get to know more of her coworkers, but most of them hung around with their friends and ignored her. Thankfully, being an outcast wasn’t new to Megan. She always found a way to keep herself company.

Deciding to take a walk, Megan shoved off the wall and made her way down onto the grassy area. When her heels sunk into the soft earth, she removed her shoes and kept going barefooted. As she walked, her thoughts moved to the last good memory she had of her ex, Peter. Before she’d learnt what a lying, cheating bastard he was, he’d taken her to a retreat similar to this one. Something about the nature surrounding them had put an extra oomph into their flagging relationship. They’d made love more often in that weekend getaway than they did the final year of their relationship.

Darker memories of the moments after discovering Peter’s unfaithfulness and the hurtful things he said followed, but the ringing of her mobile phone saved her from going down that old path again. She’d ended her relationship with Peter over a year ago. She’d already moved on. Sometimes, she wished her memories did too.

“Hey,” she answered after looking at the phone’s screen. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“You know how it is,” her sister, Jillian, said with a smile in her voice. “No rest for the wicked.”

Megan laughed. “Work’s that busy, huh?”

“Actually, it’s about to get a little lighter. I’ve got a new client and she’s super rich. Pretty demanding too. I’ll have to drop a few of my other clients to accommodate her…”

The rest of Jillian’s words turned to background noise when a high-pitched whistling sound filled the air. When Megan looked up to the sky in the direction of the noise, her eyes widened with shocked horror as something large and bright hurtled toward Earth. Hurtled toward her.

Move, screamed a voice in her head but her legs refused to work. There she stood, slack-jawed, barefooted on the grass, her mobile phone pressed to her ear as a part of her brain foolishly tried to distinguish if the massive thing careening toward her was a plane.

“Megan! Megan! What’s that sound?” her sister’s voice broke through the thick haze of shock immobilizing her. With a scream, Megan regained motor function as she tried to run as fast as she could in her tight pencil skirt.

KA-BOOM! The aircraft hit the ground and the force of its impact shook the ground violently beneath Megan’s feet. She screamed again when her body was launched forward as if she’d jumped mid-run and her body hit the ground hard. Her mobile phone flung to parts unknown from her hand and thick chunks of earth, glass, and metal sprayed everywhere. Distantly, she could hear the others within the hotel screaming too.

Megan groaned, crying out when a searing pain raced up the arm she’d fallen on. Her heart slammed in her chest as though it fought to escape her body and her breathing was coming too fast. A wave of heat spread her way and when Megan rolled onto her back, she was horrified to see fire surrounding a huge black aircraft embedded deep into the earth.

She had to leave now. Anyone with a lick of common sense knew that a fire plus a vehicle of any kind equalled a deadly explosion. Struggling to sit up, Megan whimpered against the intense pain in her arm. Something was definitely broken but she couldn’t pay attention to that now. Better to have a broken arm than be dead. Pain or not, she had to get out of there as soon as possible.

As she twisted her body so she could get to her knees, Megan gasped when she looked up and saw another aircraft speeding toward Earth. Her heart felt ready to explode and with adrenaline flooding her, Megan found the strength to get to her feet. The other aircraft landed avoiding a crash like the first. It shook the ground once more and Megan stumbled but stayed on her feet. She turned, ready to dash when her body was hauled backward. She cried out, twisting to discover a freakish sight.

A creature with green-yellow skin, sunken cheeks, and completely black eyes. It grinned at her, the action disturbing as it revealed its rows of jagged, darkened teeth. It pushed her to the ground and Megan screamed as the terrifying creature climbed on top of her. She tried to fight despite the pain in her arm but the creature’s strength outmatched her own. It shoved her shirt up, revealing her naked torso and before Megan could stop it, the creature pressed a luminescent white ball against her stomach.

“No!” cried Megan, twisting away but it was too late. Her body shook as it absorbed whatever substance the creature had pressed to her skin. A bright burst of warmth spread throughout her body from where the ball had entered. Her heart raced, her skin grew damp with sweat. Time seemed to slow down, sounds began to grow distant, and her vision became blurry. Her breathing slowed. A fiery blast pressed into the green-skinned creature’s bony chest, blowing it off of her.

A man with violet eyes came to her. His hand pressed against her stomach where the substance had filled her. Strangely, it felt right for him to touch her there in such an intimate place.

She tried to speak, but the rest of her thoughts lost coherency. Finally, she was claimed by complete darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mikaal

 

The more the medic spoke, the deeper Mikaal’s scowl became. He clenched his fist as anger and frustration formed into something dark and unpleasant in his chest. He did not engage in unnecessary violence but his entire body ached to hit something with enough force to destroy it.

“Therefore, my Klar,” continued the medic, “due to the complication of this uncommon mixing of species, attempting separation between the two will be unwise. Both of them may die.”

Mikaal folded his arms and glared at the human female lying unconscious in the medic’s examination pod. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the medic he didn’t care whether the human lived or not, but the words died away. His eyes roved over the puny being through the transparent glass, assessing her. Her head was topped with wild brown curls, her fair skin, tinted with a soft blue from the inner lights of the examination pod, devoid of the markings common to his people. Before she’d succumbed to sleep, he’d seen the colour of her eyes. A startling blue, quite unlike the violet hue he was accustomed to. His gaze lingered on her exposed midsection just below the strange, cloth contraption that covered her breasts.

The mother of his unborn child.

The weight of this realization hit him harder than the anger when he’d learnt his essence was stolen. On his coronation day when he’d assumed the mantle of King of Omaron, he’d felt bewildered by the title and the responsibility it carried. Over a decade later, he’d grown into his position. Now a new title loomed above him. Father. Mikaal turned away from the female as too many thoughts crowded his head.

“Thank you, Zezvar,” he said after a deep exhale. He moved to take a seat nearby but he paused when the medic cleared his throat nervously. “What is it?”

“My Klar, with respect, it is not necessary for you to stay. There is nothing more of significance to occur until the human wakes. And even that may take some time.”

Mikaal bristled at Zezvar’s words. Though he knew the Lutvian medic was right, leaving the human alone without any protection bothered him. The thief who’d stolen his essence hadn’t worked alone, he was certain of that. Where the thief had failed, no doubt another menace would come by to finish the job. Perhaps eliminate the human once they discovered that his essence was now permanently fused with her body.

He would never let that happen. He had other matters to attend to but he would assign guards outside until the human was awake. Then he would be the only one guarding her.

Mikaal gave Zezvar a curt nod. “Alert me immediately when the human wakes.”

“Certainly, my Klar,” said Zezvar as he pressed a spotted, red palm to his right breast and bowed his head.

Mikaal left and headed toward his office. He still had other duties to attend to regardless of the recent dilemma. He needed to order an investigation into how the sealed and guarded vaults were breached and stolen from, as well as make plans to handle the latest rebel uprising in his home province, Davalar. But when Mikaal sat in his chair, he found he lacked concentration. Turning to gaze out his window at the beautiful stretch of land, all he could think about was what Zezvar had told him and the far-reaching consequences of this latest development.

The babe in the human’s body would not be of true Omaron heritage. In time, the babe would mature and assume the mantle of ruler of this planet. How would the people react if they learnt of its human bloodline? Mikaal leaned his head back against his seat and released a sigh. This was not good. He’d publicly reneged on a marriage promise, he was taking too long to subdue the rebels, and now this. Soon, the council would hear about this fiasco, and that odious Varrack, who so desperately wanted to be named klar, would have one more point of proof to sway the council to his favour.

So caught up in his thoughts, Mikaal did not hear when someone entered the room.

“Self-pity is unattractive, brother.”

Mikaal turned in his chair to look at his half-sister, Suri. Today, she was wearing a bright orange replica of the female royal dress. Mikaal grimaced at the colour, vaguely wondering why his sister’s tastes so often veered toward the garish.

“I see you’ve heard the news,” he said tiredly. “There are no secrets in this damn palace.”

“Not where that gossip whore, Zezvar, is concerned.” Suri came forward, her long, black hair and dress swishing about her body as she moved. She took a seat before him then summoned his hidden bottle of honeyed wine and two drinking cups. Mikaal glared at her as the bottle poured the wine into the cups and she smiled at him. “Oh, behave. Everyone knows how much you love this wine. It wasn’t hard to guess you had one hidden away.”

She handed him a cup and Mikaal accepted it grudgingly. He took a deep gulp, enjoying the smoothness of the wine down his throat. She watched him and Mikaal grew uncomfortable beneath her persistent gaze. Though mind-reading was possible among his species—the Dava people—it took years of training to perfect the skill. Yet there were times when Mikaal wondered if Suri was naturally born with the talent.

“Mother says you should have the human killed. Then you can contribute new essence to the vaults,” said Suri finally. “She said that the human’s blood will tarnish the family’s bloodline.”

Mikaal opened his mouth to retort, but Suri continued. “She also said that it was foolish to have chased after the thief. You could have been killed and Omaron would have been left without a ruler.”

“Varrack would have assumed the role with glee the instant the life left my body.”

Suri grimaced and remained silent for a moment. Then, in a quiet voice, “I, too, think your actions were foolish, but they were also brave.” Her gaze held his intently. “Are you going to kill the human, Mikaal?”

“No, sister, I will not. She may be of a lesser species but her life still has value.”

A look of interest formed on Suri’s face. “So you will let her live and bear you a half-breed?”

“Bear my child.”

“And the human has agreed to this?”

“She has no say in the matter.”

Suri stared at him for a moment before her face lit up with amused realization. “She is not aware as yet. She does not know her body houses the royal seed of the Klar of Omaron.”

Mikaal fidgeted in his seat. “No. She has been asleep since her journey from Earth. She will be notified when she has awakened—”

The notification light on the black, rectangular strip on his desk that housed his entire communication system gleamed a bright red, the slim strip vibrating gently. An incoming call. When Mikaal answered it, a crisp hologram of Zezvar in his lab materialized into view. His brown eyes wide and shiny with excitement in his red and spotted face as he said,

“My Klar, the human is awake.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

Megan

 

Everything hurt.

Her head hurt. Her arms hurt. Her legs hurt. Her back hurt. Even her ass hurt. There was a dull pain in the bones of her butt-cheeks. Like if she’d taken a hard fall and landed on her bottom. She heard footsteps coming closer but she was afraid to open her eyes for some reason. Some kind of residual terror squeezed around her heart and she began to search her memories for the source of the fear.

It was as if her brain was already waiting for her. Loads of images flooded her head, squeezing forward like a crowd of people through a narrow passageway. Hotel, Jillian, sky, plane, CRASH! Fire. Oh god, the fire. Then that … thing. The green monster climbing on top of her, its black eyes and jagged teeth a horrifying vision to behold.

Megan’s eyes opened as her body shook. She raised her hands to fight off the imaginary green-yellow monster and cried out when pain ran along her left arm. Strong hands kept hers still and Megan looked up into the face of a man with black hair and striking violet eyes. Seeing him immediately calmed her as she remembered her last memory of him. He had saved her from the monster. He had come to her after the green creature had implanted something inside of her.

The man broke their gaze to address someone just behind him in a strange language. When Megan peered around him, she recoiled in shock at the sight. Another creature with red skin covered in darker red dots. Short tusks protruded just beneath its elongated ears, and the top of its head had two deep grooves starting from its temples to curve behind its head. More unusual: it was dressed! It wore a long white coat reminiscent of a doctor’s lab coat and it held a translucent device that looked like a tablet in its three-fingered hand.

“What the hell is that?” fired out of her mouth before she could stop the words. Out of all the other far more important questions still rotating in her head, she couldn’t believe that was the first one her brain had chosen. Her distress climbed to higher proportions when a robotic voice speaking in a different language sounded around the room like a PA system.

“She is in distress,” said the creature in words she understood. Megan recoiled a bit more as it drew closer. “You have nothing to fear, human. I am Zezvar. I am the medic of this palace. I will not harm you.”

“Palace?” Megan’s gaze roved around the sterile room. The place looked nothing like a palace. It looked like a doctor’s examination room only with more high-tech equipment and various jars with disturbing contents. Her gaze fell on a beautiful woman with dark hair that fell past her hips. She was dressed in a bright orange sari covered in pretty flourishes. Her hands were folded beneath her chest as she leaned against a nearby wall watching her. Her eyes were an exotic violet just like that of the man who’d saved her.

Megan inclined her head to look at the man. He was dressed in a militaristic charcoal jacket with a standing collar, his pants of a similar colour. Appended to his left breast was a gold brooch in the shape of a circle with wings. His dark hair was neatly trimmed but a shadow of stubble lingered on his face. Tall and broad-shouldered, his perfectly-fitted jacket highlighted that he definitely looked as good underneath his clothes as he did inside them.

She didn’t know why but she felt as though he was the only one she was truly safe with in this strange place. His alert posture signified he was a man constantly in charge and capable of protecting her. He was the only one she could trust.

“Where am I?” she asked him, her terror falling. When his gaze dipped, Megan followed it to find her shirt unbuttoned, her lacy bra exposed. Face red with embarrassment and indignation, she tried to cover herself with the arm that didn’t hurt as she recoiled from the man too. So much for feeling safe with him. “What’s going on here?”

“You have been impregnated!” said the red-skinned creature with excitement.

Megan’s eyes widened. “What?”

The man spoke in his foreign language to the red-skinned creature, his voice hard and displeased. The creature’s obvious excitement faded and a look of disappointment came over his face. He turned to leave and so did the woman. Alone with the man, Megan struggled to sit up and address him.

“What—”

The man raised his hand. “Be quiet. I will answer your questions but you must remain silent.”

Megan scowled, hating his tone. She wasn’t a child to be told to shut up.

“You kidnapped me! You can’t stop me from talking.” Megan looked around her wildly, ready to scream for help at the top of her lungs.

“You will not make any loud noises, either. It will be fruitless,” said the man, an unfriendly glint in his eyes. Megan held her breath, shocked into speechlessness that he knew her intentions.

“I did not kidnap you,” he continued. “I retrieved what was stolen from me.”

Her voice was indignant. “I didn’t steal anything from you. I don’t even know who you are.”

“I am Mikaal Ahrisi, the Klar of Omaron.” He folded his arms across his chest, the muscles on his strong forearms flexing and drawing Megan’s attention for a short moment.

Handsome and fit. But crazy as all hell, because the more he said, the more questions blossomed in her head. Megan winced in pain when she tried to cover herself properly. She was sat on an examination bed of some sort. Shaped like a long pill, the upper half of the bed was made of glass, hanging parallel to her seat. She had little room to move, but she edged away from him anyway. She hated how vulnerable she felt so exposed with this man looming over her. She regarded him suspiciously as the questions fired out of her.

“Omaron? Where’s that? And why did that … thing say I’m impregnated? What have you people done to me?”

“Omaron is a planet, human,” he said in condescending tones. “And I am its klar—its king. No-one has done anything to you save for the thief who stole my essence from my vault and implanted it into your body.”

Megan stared at Mikaal, her disbelief achieving new heights. Her last memories returned to her. She could see the two aircrafts, not planes, but something like out of a sci-fi movie—spaceships. Then that green monster with the black eyes. An … alien? That luminescent white ball in its clawed hands. The intense warmth of it as her body absorbed it. Was she going crazy? Was this all a dream? None of this could be real. Aliens did not exist!

“I don’t believe you,” she said but she knew this was a lie. “I want to leave. Let me go. Now.”

Mikaal came closer, his large, powerful body looming over hers on the examination bed. The size of him intimidated Megan and she shrunk away from the intensity of the anger evident in his gaze.

“Your disbelief is of little concern to me, human.” Despite the quietness of his voice, a subtle note of warning laced his words. “What matters is that my essence is in your body. My child is in your body. As such, no, you cannot leave. I will not let you go.”

The creature—Zezvar—returned but not the woman. After some convincing, Megan allowed him to apply a warm, green gel on her arm that dulled the pain.

“It is a mix I created myself,” he said with a proud smile. “No need to imbibe orally. Put it on the skin and it heals within!”

“Thank you.” Megan forced a smile, trying to hide the disgusted look on her face at the smell of the gel. She swung her legs off the bed and tried not to be conscious of Mikaal’s arm around her body as he helped her to her feet.

“Can you walk?” he asked and Megan nodded shyly. The chill of the floor seeped into her bare feet, and when she tried to move, her legs wobbled on the first step. Mikaal prevented her fall by hoisting her up into his strong arms.

“Put me down!” said Megan instantly, her face burning with embarrassment. “I can walk.”

Mikaal gave her a stern look but said nothing. Megan squirmed in his arms but he only held her tighter as he left the room. Dear God, he smelled good. Something citrusy with an underlay of spice and his own natural musk. The temptation to lean closer and breathe him in overcame her but she forced herself to keep still. She’d never felt as light and delicate as she did now. She felt safer than she should in this strange place as he held her in his steady arms. Roving her gaze around her surroundings, she tried to gauge where she was being taken, but Megan stole glances at Mikaal along the way.

She was pregnant.

With his baby.

A king’s baby.

A freaking ruler of an entire planet’s baby!

Sweet Moses this was insane. No, this was more than insane. It was unbelievable. Yesterday, she was a single woman in her mid-twenties with a boring receptionist job. Today, she was pregnant with an alien king’s baby being carried in aforementioned alien king’s arms to god-knows-where. This had to be a dream, or maybe some really involved prank. That Zezvar guy was totally some asshole in a costume. This place with its futuristic design and unreadable text on the walls—a movie set? And this man—probably some handsome actor with violet-coloured contact lenses.

Megan’s attention shifted to the present. A few times, a man or woman dressed in a beige tunic would come along. The instant they noticed Mikaal, they’d press a hand to their right breast and bow their heads low before hurrying along. Mikaal didn’t pay any attention to the respectful greeting, a sign that he was accustomed to this treatment. Just like a king would be. Megan was simultaneously wowed and discomfited that he had told her the truth. This wasn’t an elaborate act. This was real.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“My chambers.”

“What?” Heat climbed to her face. Her treacherous body warmed at the thought of being alone with him in his bedroom. Though what was the point? She was already pregnant with his kid, anyway. “Why?”

He didn’t answer. Megan opened her mouth, ready to pester him but her words stalled. Mikaal walked toward a door where two, large, blue-skinned creatures stood rigid as statues on either side of it. Their slanted black eyes regarded their approach with unblinking stoicism, and they each held a long spear in one of their four arms. Terrified by the look of these odd creatures, Megan tightened her hold around Mikaal’s neck. What the hell were those things? She was beginning to grow weary of the sheer weirdness populating this place.

At the sight of Mikaal, the creatures pressed a fist to their right breast and bowed their heads. Mikaal acknowledged them with a curt nod as the door slid open on its own accord. A large room with contoured walls and painted entirely in white greeted them. Once inside, Megan she stared around the room in awe. Luxury confronted her in every corner. Thick, mauve carpeting covered most of the flooring beneath the wide, canopied bed. In one corner just beside the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, sat two modern armchairs in mauve-and-gold pattern, a small table between them. As Mikaal carried her to the bed, Megan wasn’t sure what she envied the most: the walk-in closet that was larger than her apartment living room or the gorgeous views of the mountainside the balcony afforded.

Megan’s gaze shifted to Mikaal’s. Her hand lingered around the back of his neck a bit longer than it should as he laid her on the bed. Her face grew warm as he stared into her eyes.

“Thanks,” she said softly, pulling her hand away. Mikaal stood up straight, gazing down at her for a moment before heading to the door. Megan panicked. She didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place even if it looked fit for a king. Pun not intended. “Wait! Where are you going?”

He turned, his features impassive. “There are other matters that require my attention.”

“You can’t just leave me here by myself,” Megan cut in, struggling to her feet. “I’m not stupid. There are guards outside. At least, that’s what I think those things are. Someone wants to hurt me, and I’m guessing it’s because of this.” She pointed at her stomach.

“I am a klar. There is never a moment when guards are not outside my chambers. But, yes, they are also there for your protection.”

She scowled. “You know how I’ll be even more protected? If you let me go home.”

Mikaal’s lips formed a hard line of displeasure. “As I’ve said before, human, I will not let you leave with my child.”

“I’m not just human, asshole. My name is Megan,” she said indignantly. “And you can’t force me to stay here. I have family and friends who’ll worry about me. I didn’t ask to have your baby juice shoved inside me. This is not fair!”

He drew closer, clearly angered. “And you think it fair to me that I had no choice in my progeny’s mother? In time, this,” he flattened his palm against her stomach and Megan gasped softly at the intimate touch, “shall take my place as ruler of Omaron. Its lineage was meant to be untarnished. Now it will not be so. Nevertheless, it is my child and you, human, its mother. You will stay here until you have birthed it.” He retracted his hand yet he held her gaze captive. “If you wish to leave afterwards, so be it.”

Too many emotions roiled within Megan, leaving her speechless in the ensuing silence. Though she felt indignant in the way he had railroaded her demands for freedom, she reluctantly understood his reasoning behind his decision. She raised her hand and laid it against her stomach, the realization of what was about to happen overwhelmed her.

She was going to be a mother. It was not a fate she’d sought for herself but one that had been forcibly given to her. She was like some modern day Virgin Mary. Knocked up without having sex. She’d not asked if it were possible for the … implantation to be removed because she was sure Mikaal would have had it done immediately. So, this was happening. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to be a mother of a future leader of an entire planet.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay until the baby comes.”

“Yes, you will,” he said in matter-of-fact tones that irritated Megan before he pivoted away from her and left her alone in the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

4

Mikaal

 

Mikaal shut the door to his office and sat down in his chair with a weary sigh. The impromptu council meeting had gone over as unpleasantly as he’d anticipated. He wasn’t sure what part of it he despised the most: the scolding he received for abandoning Omaron without notice or protection, Varrack’s ludicrous insinuation his quickness to hunt down the thief meant he aided in the theft of his own essence, or the council’s quiet suggestion he kill both the human and the babe.

He had no intention of murdering his child. Or the human. As much as he disliked it, she was the mother to his seed growing inside of her and he held some modicum of respect for her because of this. Her weak heritage barred him from considering her an ideal choice as a mate. But if he ignored her species, he wouldn’t say he was completely displeased.

Holding her soft body in his arms earlier had left him with a strange sense of protectiveness he’d never felt before. When he’d laid her on his bed, staring into her vibrant blue eyes while her hands still clung to him had stirred his arousal. Touching her had reminded him he’d been without a woman’s intimate embrace for a long time.

Yes, he would concede that the human was desirable but he had no wish to bed her. To do so would invite far more complications than he was willing to endure. Though he had placed her in his chambers, his sole purpose for doing so was to ensure her safety.

Deciding to bury his wayward thoughts with work, Mikaal touched the black, rectangular strip on his desk. A glowing, almost translucent image of all his communications and forms requiring his perusal hovered above the strip.

“She is to have your child and now she resides in your chambers. I will not be surprised if your next course of action is to make the human your klara.”

Mikaal glanced up from the latest message he’d received concerning the status of the rebel movement.

“I am in no mood to be bothered, Suri,” he said. He frowned as he returned his attention to the message. Many years ago before he was appointed klar, he would have been out there among his men in the thick of the fight. Now responsibility confined him to his office and chair reading the messages they sent.

“I think you should do it, of course,” continued Suri as though she’d not heard him. She summoned his honeyed wine from its newest hiding place. She took liberal sips of it directly from the bottle much to Mikaal’s irritation. “And when you do, I wish to be the bearer of the news to Mother.”

Mikaal turned off his com-system and leaned back in his chair.

“The human will not become my klara.”

“Why not?”

“She is not a native of Omaron, she is an Earthling.” He grimaced as though saying the name of her species physically hurt him. “Furthermore, I will not take a wife I have not chosen myself.”

Suri scoffed. “The day you marry is the day the galaxy would split itself in two.”

Mikaal folded his arms. “Have you forgotten I was once affianced?”

“Yes, once. Yet you broke it off and along with it, the poor girl’s heart. A pity. Though she’s not the first to endure the pain of your unwillingness to commit.”

A mischievous smile curved her lips as Mikaal glowered at her.

“Why are you here, Suri? To find new ways to vex me?”

“Always so angry, Mikaal.” She laughed. “I came to remind you of the announcement ceremony required for a successful royal implantation. I hope to coordinate it.”

Successful? Furthest thing from the truth. This was a catastrophe and he wasn’t interested in celebrating it with the rest of the kingdom. But Omaron was steeped in tradition and to break one of the oldest, especially after this recent scandal would be asking for more trouble.

He made a careless gesture. “Do as you wish.”

“Indeed, my Klar, your excitement exceeds new realms.”

Mikaal awarded her a wry smile. “Yes, it grows with every day I lead Omaron closer to its ruin.”

Suri gave him a comforting smile in return. “Yes, well, before we all cry for your head for our great planet’s imminent demise, we look forward to welcoming your heir the day after tomorrow. Mark it down in your calendar or suffer a public beating.”

Returning his wine to it’s hiding place, she left him to himself. Mikaal released his frustration on a long breath. He loved his half-sister dearly but her provocation was bothersome at times. Returning to the message, Mikaal read the words but didn’t acknowledge their meaning. His thoughts turned to Suri’s parting words. He was not unwilling to commit to a relationship with a woman. He just hadn’t met the right one as yet. After all, he had to be sure. As the klar, he had to be absolutely certain that the woman he claimed as his klara was fit for such a responsibility. He refused to make the same mistake as his father.

Mikaal’s thoughts turned to darker moments when his mother was alive. The anguish she caused not only in his father but in the kingdom of Omaron. He didn’t believe that all women were like his mother—manipulative and remorseless—but he feared he’d make the wrong choice by proxy of being his father’s son. Perhaps he should not have broken off his engagement to Varrack’s sister. By now they would have been wedded and she would have been the one carrying his essence. Not the human.

In amusement, he wondered on the consequences of marrying the human. No, Megan, as she’d so indignantly insisted. Heads would roll, the council members would unanimously vote against him, the kingdom would join hands in revolt that their king dared to bring an outsider—a being of lesser capabilities at that—to govern over them. Most of all, Megan would reject him as her husband. It was obvious she did not care what or who he was. She’d made it clear she had no wish to stay. What she cared about most was returning to her planet.

It bothered Mikaal that she would refuse him, a klar. Never in his life had his requests gone without fulfilment. Nevertheless, he had no intention of marrying her, therefore all thoughts on the matter were in vain. All thoughts on the human except her safety was in vain as well. He had work to do.

***

The day progressed toward evening and the subtle grumble in his stomach reminded Mikaal he hadn’t eaten in a while. His thoughts turned to the human. He’d assigned a servant to take care of anything she might need. Zezvar had also sent his report that all was well physically with the human, though she remained furious for being ‘held prisoner’ in the chambers.

Setting aside his work, Mikaal got to his feet and rolled his shoulders to ease them of the tension. He felt burdened and overworked. Vaguely, he wondered when was the last time he had a vacation. A ludicrous thought. Leaders had no time for rest. On his deathbed, his father had encouraged him to take an extended period of relaxation. The moment he assumed the mantle of klar, his father had said, he would have no peace. As he headed toward his chambers where his latest problem resided, he wished he’d taken his father’s advice.

The Ahmenian soldiers standing guard on either side of his door bowed their heads in respect upon his arrival. Four-armed and large, the Ahmenians were terrifyingly strong and fast with their guns and their spears.

Mikaal stood still as he eyed his two guards curiously. They averted their gaze from him out of respect, maintaining their vigilant watch on their surroundings. Yes, Ahmenians were fearsome creatures and only an adversary with great power and agility could subdue them. Yet, on the night he’d discovered his vault breached, the Ahmenians standing guard at the time had laid dead on the floor with no visible wounds.

It was as if they didn’t fight. And if they didn’t fight, then their attacker was someone they knew, someone who had been cleared for them to trust within the palace.

A sense of foreboding overcame Mikaal. He’d assumed the thief was sent by Lutvian rebels, but what if the breach was planned from within the palace’s walls? He could not be certain until the investigators he’d hired had ascertained the dead thief’s identity. Even so, he would have to call on someone he trusted. More so, he would have to make sure the human never left his sight until he caught the culprit.

With a quick nod to his guards, Mikaal continued into his chambers. The familiar white, concave walls greeted him, as well as the unfamiliar sight of his bedsheets wrapped around the human woman.

“It’s about time you came back.” Her cheeks were flushed—from indignation or embarrassment, Mikaal wasn’t sure. She pointed in the direction of the bathing room. “Your demon bathroom stole my clothes!”

Mikaal approached her, his gaze travelling over her naked shoulders and arms. She curved one edge of the bedsheets around her body. But the sheets were far too large and heavy for her to cover herself entirely, so his eyes dropped to the exposed portion of one of her thighs.

He knew where his thoughts were headed but he was helpless to halt their progress. Though she was covered, it was the suggestion of her nakedness beneath the inadequate covering that stirred his arousal. There was a naked woman in his chambers. Naked and attractive. Her blue eyes glittered, her unblemished skin looked soft and smooth.

He envisioned pushing her back onto his bed, eradicating all his worries in her arms. Her warm flesh beneath his hands, he’d bury himself inside her—

“Mikaal.” Her cheeks were still flushed but her hand tightened on the sheet. Perhaps she had seen the way he looked at her. Still looked at her.

“Your clothing was not stolen, it was cleaned.” He moved toward a panel on the right wall of the door leading to the bathroom. Pressing a button, a shelf slid out presenting her clothing washed, dried and folded.

“Oh.” She made a step then paused, hastily pulling up the sheet from sliding off her front. Her face reddened. “Could you … could you bring them to me?”

Mikaal smiled. “You are not impaired, human. Come for them yourself.”

As expected, her gaze turned indignant. “You know I can’t. Don’t be an ass.”

“Insulting me will not help your cause.” He folded his arms, amused by her visible discomfort. He knew he shouldn’t but Mikaal liked how easily he could provoke her. Her indignation fuelled his amusement. He supposed it was the same reason why Suri did the same to him. If he were being honest, he also liked the way her pretty face acquired a pink glow and her blue eyes an extra shine.

“How I grew up, I was told to call it like I see it, no excuses.”

“I see. You are a product of an uncouth upbringing. Your extreme lack of politeness no longer astounds me.”

“Are you seriously going to just stand there being a pain in the ass and not bring me my clothes?” She scowled.

“I am a klar, human. I am not your servant.” He patted the top of the open shelf. “You can walk. You said so vehemently this morning. Come for your clothing.”

“I’ll be naked in front of you.” If it were possible, her face turned redder. The image her words inspired made him harden.

Mikaal’s smirk deepened. “I fail to see the problem.”

“Of course you don’t, pervert,” she spat, her eyes glittering with anger. “Look, I may be pregnant with your baby, but that doesn’t mean we ... that we’re ever going to ....” she cleared her throat. “Please just stop making this harder for me than it already is. Please bring me my clothes.”

He felt a twinge of shame for provoking her but batted it away. Lifting her clothes from the shelf with his abilities, he sent them to lie on the bed within her reach.

Her eyes widened. “What—How … how did you do that?”

Mikaal shook his head even though he felt a sliver of pride by her amazement. Humans really were limited in their capabilities.

“Telekinesis is one of the many skills inherent to my kind.” He moved toward the door. “I suppose you want me to leave now that you need to dress?”

She bit her lip. “No, you don’t have to. Just turn around and don’t look.”

He bristled under her bossy tones but did as she requested. No-one spoke to him like this. Not even Suri, despite her penchant for disobeying him. Keeping his back turned to her, he sent instructions to the kitchens via another panel to prepare them something to eat. Her rustling as she put on her clothing tempted him to disobey her request. He wanted to turn around and enjoy the view of her nakedness. Though the people on Omaron did not harbour the ridiculous concept of shame when naked, Mikaal did believe in being honourable. He’d promised the human he would not look, so therefore, much as he wanted to, he would not look.

It was for the best, he told himself. Any attraction he felt for the human had to be curtailed. Attraction led to acting on it. Having any relationship with the human beyond treating her like a surrogate mother to his heir led to nothing more than complications. And if there was anything Mikaal enjoyed more than a good fight or honeyed wine, it was simplicity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

5

Megan

 

“Your clothing is too constricting.”

Megan looked down at her fitted blue shirt and pencil skirt. It’s what she’d been wearing the night she was forcibly impregnated by one alien then abducted by another. Surprisingly, despite being flung all over the place by explosions, the worst her clothing had suffered were grass stains. Did that happen last night or the night before? She wasn’t sure how long she’d been away from Earth.

It felt strange knowing she was no longer on Earth. Even though advanced technology surrounded her, it still bore a great resemblance to the items she was accustomed to on Earth.

She frowned at Mikaal. Sitting in one of the armchairs, one leg folded over the other, fingers interlocked and poised in his lap, he scrutinized her. Even when seated, his intense, violet-eyed stare made her feel like he still towered over her. She wanted to run and hide from him under the bed, but she had this ludicrous image in her head of him using his telekinesis to drag her out, kicking and screaming.

He didn’t like the way she was dressed? Well, that was a laugh. Just a moment ago he had eyed her barely clothed body like a starving man confronting a buffet table. Now he had a problem with what she was wearing?

“No, it isn’t.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts, relieved her arm no longer hurt or felt stiff. That gel Zezvar gave her was definitely made of magic. “I’m comfortable.” Well, as comfortable as she could be without shoes. Though with the soft thickness of the carpet, her toes weren’t complaining.

His gaze became skeptical. “They don’t look healthy for the child. Tomorrow, you will be fitted with the proper attire for pregnancy.”

Megan scowled at his authoritativeness. Just because he was some king, just because he’d somehow knocked her up without them actually doing ‘the deed’ didn’t mean he suddenly had full control over her body. She didn’t need pregnancy clothes. At least, not yet. Her stomach was still as flat as a washboard. Well, sort of. She had a stubborn bit of pudginess that no amount of sit-ups could eradicate.

“I’ll wear what I want to wear.”

He got to his feet, his eyebrows knitted in irritation. “Why are you so defiant?”

“I don’t know.” Megan edged away, her thighs dragging alongside the bed. “Why are you such a bossy jerk?”

“A native of Omaron would suffer a beheading for less disrespect,” he said, his quiet voice holding a darker tone. He advanced toward her, every step increasing her dread. She’d always been a person who spoke first and suffered the consequences later. But right now, the consequences were manageable. His words might be terrifying and his presence intimidating, but he wouldn’t hurt her. At least not while she was pregnant with his kid. If she could make him even a fraction as uncomfortable as he made her then so be it.

“Yeah, well, I’m a human. The rules don’t apply to me.”

Mikaal stepped into her personal space, crowding it with his overpowering presence and divine smell. Megan inclined her head to stare boldly into his face, even though her heart slammed against her ribcage. Mikaal’s nearness excited her when it should terrify her. Who knew what this alien man was capable of when angered?

“You are still on Omaron soil and I its klar. Therefore, I deserve absolute respect, even from you … Megan.”

She sucked in air slowly. Why did her name sound so good on his tongue?

“You’re not my klar. You’re my captor. Respect is the last thing you’ll be getting from me.”

He leaned down, his gaze sliding to her lips before meeting her wide-eyed stare once more. His violet eyes were almost black, a mixture of anger and arousal in their captivating depths.

“Then I will have to take it from you.”

He was going to kiss her. She believed it with as much conviction as she knew that she had ten fingers and ten toes. She’d known this man for a barely a day yet the heat and attraction between them burned her from the inside out. There were flutters in her stomach as her anticipation mounted, but a warning voice popped up in her head, demanding she prevent Mikaal from touching her.

She was saved from her inner struggle when he backed away on his own. Her relief was great, her disappointment even greater. She blew out a shaky breath as he moved toward the small table.

Mikaal touched the centre of the small table and it instantly became larger, the accompanying armchairs transforming into dining chairs. Then the table sank into floor with a gentle whir, disappearing for a moment before sliding back up, its surface laden with plates of food. Megan regarded the entire process with new amazement. There really was no end to the weird—and admittedly cool—things in this place!

“Come and eat,” said Mikaal, standing beside one of the chairs. His features were impassive, a far cry from the heated look in his eyes a few minutes ago.

For a moment, she considered ignoring his offer, but good manners and hunger forced her forward. Someone dressed in one of those beige tunics had come by earlier to offer her something to eat, but she’d refused their assistance out of anger and spite for Mikaal. Of course, she’d only end up spiting herself. She was ravenous.

“Thanks,” she said grudgingly when he helped her into her seat. At least he was gentlemanly despite his bossiness.

They ate in silence. Trying to forget about what almost happened between them, Megan preoccupied herself with the newness of the alien food. Some things looked and tasted familiar while others were strange and new. Still, she enjoyed it all. Except for one thing. A reddish mush that tasted like the ground guts of a day-old dead fish—even if she’d never had that. One spoonful of it into her mouth later, Megan made a disgusted sound as she grabbed up her napkin and spat into it.

Her face reddening rapidly, she glanced up to see Mikaal looking at her.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her lips, wishing she could sink into the same hole the table had sunk into some moments ago.

“You do not like it,” he said in matter of fact tones.

“Everything else is pretty good except this.” She grimaced and gestured at the red mush on her plate.

“I did not enjoy it as a child either, but I have grown to bear it.”

“What is it?”

Mikaal’s violet eyes were shiny with mirth. “Ground alopan beetle. It tastes better when it is roasted.”

Megan twisted her lips as she tamped down the sudden rise of nausea at Mikaal’s words. Bugs? She just ate ground bugs? Ugh. What other horrible thing had she consumed? She eyed her plate doubtfully.

He extended his hand, indicating she give him her dirtied napkin. When she refused to give it to him out of embarrassment, he reached across the table to grab her hand. Megan grew still from his touch as he plucked the dirty napkin from her grasp and disposed of it.

She tugged her hand away, his touch still warm on her arm.

“I thought you weren’t my servant.”

“You fight me too much.”

“That’s because you constantly steamroll my requests.” She glared at him, trying to ignore the way her hand still tingled where he’d touched her. “How long do you intend to keep me locked up in this room all by myself? As a matter of fact, how long have I been here?”

“Two standard days.”

“What does that mean? Just two days?”

Mikaal leaned back in his seat, watching her closely. Megan fidgeted beneath his gaze. Why did everything about him seem so intense? She was constantly aware of him. Whenever he focused his attention on her, it was as if he had no room for anything else.

“There is a federation of twelve planets in our galaxy. A Union. We share a standardization of many things including currency and time span to simplify trade and commerce. Earth is not a member of the Union. As such, it travels at its own time span.” His voice became quieter. “One standard day within this galaxy is three Earth days.”

He became quiet, ostensibly to let what he’d said sink in. And it did. A rising mix of shock and horror filled Megan. The last conversation she’d had with someone who cared about her was with her sister, Jillian. And that had ended in an explosion. Six days ago. What was going on now on Earth? What would Jillian and the rest of her family think?

That she was dead; killed by the crash of the spaceships, her body nothing but ash from the fire.

Megan launched to her feet, tears prickling the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t let her family think she was dead. She couldn’t let them suffer the pain of loss when she was very much alive. Even pregnant.

“I have to go home,” she said to Mikaal. “Please, let me go home.”

Mikaal’s features darkened. “That’s not possible.”

“It is possible!” she spat. “You just don’t want to do it. You don’t want me to leave because of this.” She pointed at her stomach.

“Yes. You know this. Yet you insist on defying me,” he said, his tone heavy and serious. “You are carrying my child—”

“Then make another one!” she said hotly. “Forget about me. You said it yourself that I was not your ideal choice. Find someone who is and make your future leader with her. Forget about me and let me go home.”

“No. I will not.”

The ensuing silence was heavy and pronounced as they stared at each other. Pressing her hand to her stomach, Megan clenched her shirt as a short instance of hate for the unborn being in her body filled her heart. In the next instance, shame overcame her for feeling that way. The fact that the child existed was not its fault. Nor Mikaal’s.

In consideration, his request of her was not unreasonable even if he was highhanded about it. All he wanted was her patience. He’d already said she was free to return home once she’d given birth, so all she had to do was wait for the baby to be born. After all, it wasn’t that long. Zezvar had claimed that the average gestational period of an Omar baby lasted six months.

Then again, six months in Omaron time was … 18 months in Earth time. She’d be away from Earth, from her family, from the life she knew, for a year and a half. A big fat ‘goodbye’ to her new job, too.

“I can’t just stay here and let my family worry about me, Mikaal,” she said in quiet defeat as she sank back into her seat. “They think I’m dead.” She met his gaze, her voice imploring. “Please. They at least need to know the truth. They need to know I’m alive.”

Mikaal remained quiet, his gaze fixed on her. She was certain he was going to reject her yet again, and she began to formulate ways she could escape his imprisonment and this planet.

“Interplanetary communication is tenuous to planets outside of the Union galaxy,” he said, finally. When she opened her mouth, ready to argue with him again, he raised a hand to halt her. “However, if you would like to record a video for your family, I will have it delivered to Earth.”

Megan’s spirits lifted at his suggestion. It wasn’t as great as a direct phone call, but a video showing she was alive and in good health was an acceptable alternative.

“Thank you.” She gave him a relieved smile. “Can we do it now?”

“If you wish.”

***

The video recorder was a black, rectangular device shaped like a ruler and just as flat. Mikaal called it his “communication system”, but she just thought of it as The Compuler because it sounded a lot funnier in her head. Megan wasn’t convinced The Compuler had recording capabilities until Mikaal touched it and a hologram screen slid into view. But her awe quickly turned into confusion as her gaze shifted between the screen and the device.

“But there’s no mouse or even a keyboard. How am I suppose to select something?” She squinted at the alien text printed across the screen. “Besides, I can’t read anything on here.”

“You lack patience as much as you lack politeness,” said Mikaal. With a quick press and slide of his hand on The Compuler, it widened into a keyboard, the keys stamped with more illegible text and symbols.

Megan glared at him. “You’re really condescending. You know that, right?”

“If I am considered as much for my honest words, so be it,” he said, his tone unconcerned. “Now cease your complaints and let me guide you.”

With Mikaal’s help, Megan recorded her video message. It took her a moment to think of what to say while not sounding like she’d gone insane. She couldn’t just blurt out, “I was impregnated and abducted by aliens!” Her family would only become more concerned—especially her baby sister, Karen, and her dad. Those two were the biggest worriers to ever exist.

In the end, Megan went the vague route. Smiling into the camera, she consoled her family that she was well. She claimed the near death experience had “given her a new lease on life” and inspired her to live life with more spontaneity. So much so that she’d gone on a month long vacation to Europe. She wished them well and told them that she loved them.

After finishing the video, Megan nibbled on her bottom lip with doubt. She hoped her family believed her story. Had they begun a missing person’s investigation with the police? No doubt they had. Jillian would make sure of that since she was always so on top of things. Her big sister would have made a great army general if she’d ever decided to follow that career path.

Megan exhaled wearily. She felt tired despite not doing anything for most of the day. She supposed learning so many new things in one day had taken a toll on her brain. However, she had always been an active person. She disliked the idea of being confined to a room, resting on her laurels and not occupying her time. Peter, her ex, had often said she was content in being idle. But that was so far from the truth. Proof that he had never known her. He’d only said those things because she’d never pursued a power career like he did with law.

Mikaal’s reentry distracted her from thoughts of Peter. He’d left to give her privacy to record her video. Something for which she was grateful. His presence made her nervous. The last thing her family needed to see or hear was her distracted gaze or too high voice as she told them she was “OK”. They’d think she was being forced to lie. Which, when she thought about it, was actually the truth. Mikaal’s reluctance to let her leave forced her to tell her worried family she was gallivanting across Europe.

As he went into the walk-in closet, her mind began to draw comparisons between Mikaal and Peter. In a way they both shared a similar intensity, but whereas Peter gave off annoying arrogance, Mikaal quietly commanded respect. Not like she’d ever admit that to the alien king. Peter’s sandy-brown hair and sea-green eyes often gave him the look of a surfer-boy stuffed in a lawyer’s suit. However, Mikaal’s dark hair and stunning violet eyes captivated her. When she looked at him, she saw a man. An alien man, yes, but a man. She’d hazard a guess Mikaal was in his thirties. So if she converted Omaron’s time span to Earth’s … he’d probably be in his nineties.

The hottest old guy I’ve ever seen, she thought.

As if he’d read her thoughts and wished to solidify her viewpoint on the matter of his attractiveness, Mikaal returned to the room sans clothing. Megan’s eyes widened as his entire body was bared to her in all its tattooed glory. If she’d ever had any doubts that he was fit, they were washed away by the sight of his thick, powerful arms, his broad chest, and defined stomach. Lower than that … holy shit! Her face burned with the heat of a gazillion suns. If that was his size when flaccid, then, dear Lord, have mercy on the woman who encountered him hard.

“You’re naked!” Megan squawked, forcing herself to only look at his face. But the phoenix tattoo in blood-red ink splayed down his right side would not be ignored. More tattoos in indistinguishable shapes marched down his arms.

Sitting on the bed, the temptation to touch was so strong that Megan had to clench her hands into tight fists. Dear God, she was carrying this man’s child. This ridiculously smoking hot man whose body should have a dedicated website cataloguing him from various image shots. She’d probably be the most frequent visitor.

He smirked. “Clearly.”

“Why are you naked?”

“I am preparing for bed.”

Megan scanned the room wildly before meeting his gaze again. “This bed?”

“Yes, this is my chambers.” Mikaal moved closer.

“Wait!” Megan raised her hands to stop him and hide her view from other bits she shouldn’t see. Even if a big part of her begged her to look. “If this is your bedroom then why am I here?” Her heart thudded. “You expect me to share the same room and bed with you?”

“Of course. It is to ensure your protection.”

Her voice grew higher. “And you don’t think this is inappropriate at all?”

“I do not.” He climbed into the bed and Megan shrunk away. Mikaal’s nearness increased her temptation to touch him tenfold. He covered himself with the bedsheets and she was grateful for that much. He watched her intently. “What do you fear, human? That I will touch you?”

His words brought back the memories of earlier. There was no way she’d mistaken the look on his face. He’d watched her with a hunger that had terrified and thrilled her. What was she afraid of? Not that he’d touch her, but that if he did, she’d like it and complicate matters between them. She had a penchant for falling for unsuitable men and an alien king really had to take the cake. The ‘king’ of unsuitable men—no pun intended.

“I …” She couldn’t say yes, she couldn’t say no.

“I will not touch you,” he said with a convincing finality that disappointed her more than it relieved her. Then with a quick downward swipe of his hand, all the lights in the room went out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

6

Megan

 

In the morning, Megan’s body became mutinous. Nausea pushed her out of bed and blindly toward the bathroom. Her body shook as she emptied the contents of her stomach in the toilet, her nipples twinging against the material of her bra with each heave of her chest.

“I have called the medic,” said Mikaal quietly from behind her. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Megan gazed up at him, bleary-eyed and weak. She must look a sight. Her curly hair often looked like a bird’s nest in the mornings.

“Thanks,” she said as she struggled to get to her feet. Mikaal was by her side in seconds. He helped her up and held her steady, guiding her to the sink. After washing her mouth and face, and finger-combing her hair into something resembling decency, Megan felt slightly better. She looked around the bathroom, admiring its impressive layout. Natural light shone through the wide, rectangular windows at the top of the walls and lessened the greyness of the room. The shower was a large, box with three sides made of glass and the fourth containing various knobs that did god-knows-what. Every surface—even the twin faucets shaped like a bent pipe—gleamed with a shine only money could afford.

Megan glanced at Mikaal then looked away quickly. Aware of his presence, she felt both flattered and embarrassed by his concern. She thought about last night and how they’d slept beside each other. True to his word, he hadn’t touched her, and Megan convinced herself that was a good thing.

She pushed away from the sink, ready to leave the bathroom.

“I’m fine,” she said when Mikaal attempted to help her again. He retracted his hand immediately and Megan ignored the regret at the loss of his touch. When she returned to the bedroom, she found Zezvar standing by the small table, a black leather bag in his hand.

“Oh, you look terribly pale,” said Zezvar with a note of excitement in his voice. Since her dealings with him yesterday, Megan realized her presence was a great source of novelty for the alien doctor. Despite her initial reaction to his features, she was quietly growing to like him. “Not to worry, my Klara. I’ve medicine to help with the sickness.”

Klara? What was that?

Megan followed his indication that she sit in one of the armchairs. Zezvar reached into his bag and retrieved a vial filled with a clear liquid.

“I don’t get it. I’ve been here for … uhh … three of your days, which would be about nine earth days, right?” Megan grimaced. “Why am I getting sick so soon?”

“It is customary for the mother of an Omar babe to suffer these symptoms a few days after the implantation,” Zezvar explained as he gave the vial a quick shake. “Now, I want you to open your mouth and stick your tongue out like this.” He mimicked the action. Megan forced another bout of nausea away at the sight of his long, dark-blue tongue sticking out of his spotted face. She glanced at Mikaal. Standing nearby, his arms folded, his features were unreadable as he looked on. Closing her eyes, Megan did as Zezvar instructed. She felt silly sticking her tongue out, especially with Mikaal watching.

A few droplets fell on her tongue and Zezvar instructed she swallow.

Immediately, the roiling in her stomach vanished. Megan opened her eyes in amazement to find Zezvar’s smiling face uncomfortably close to hers.

“Better, yes?”

She gave him a small smile. “Much better. Thank you.”

“It is a remedy I created,” said Zezvar looking proud of himself as he stood up straight. “It is made from the eyes of yelrin birds. Terribly difficult to capture them.”

Megan grimaced. Was everything on this planet made from murdering creatures? It was on the tip of her tongue to say so out loud. Then she remembered the similar practices on Earth and kept her mouth shut.

“You can take a few drops of the remedy whenever you feel nausea, and—ah! I almost forgot.”

Reaching into his bag again, Zezvar produced another vial and placed it on the table.

“You must take this with your meals, my Klara,” said Zezvar, pointing at the vial. “It is vital for your health and that of the child. Again, only a few drops on your tongue is necessary.”

“OK.” Megan nodded, swallowing. She wound her fingers together, squeezing them hard. So this was really it, then. She was pregnant. The nausea and soreness in her breasts proof of the baby’s existence. There were some lingering doubts that probably only an ultrasound could remove because a part of her still wondered if this was all an elaborate hoax. But why would anyone go through so much trouble to trick her? “Thank you, again, Zezvar.”

“My Klara,” said Zezvar, rewarding her with the respectful bow she’d seen others give Mikaal. “My Klar.” He bowed to Mikaal who nodded at him. Gathering his things, Zezvar left, leaving Megan and Mikaal in stark silence.

She turned to Mikaal. “Why does Zezvar call me klara?”

She figured she knew the answer already, but she wanted confirmation. It didn’t need any stretch of the imagination. Mikaal had called himself a “klar” which meant “king”, so if she judged on the respectful way Zezvar spoke to her and his bowing, “klara” could only mean “queen”. Which was absurd. She wasn’t anyone’s queen.

“Because he assumes I will claim you as my wife.”

“W-what?” Wow. Guessing the reason and hearing it out loud were two different things. After growing up as ordinary as can be and being told by Peter she would never amount to much, the idea of being Mikaal’s wife and a queen of an entire planet was instantly appealing. Yet it was preposterous. She did not belong here. She didn’t want to be here. She wasn’t ashamed to admit, too, that she hadn’t the confidence necessary to be suited with such immense power. “That’s ridiculous.”

Mikaal watched her intently. “Why?”

“Because ... I …” Megan averted her gaze. “You shouldn’t marry someone you don’t love.”

Mikaal scoffed. “Love is not necessary in a marriage. However, mutual respect, faithfulness and honour are the cornerstones to a successful union.”

“Yeah, but without the love, that’s just a business relationship and really boring.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze again. “A loveless relationship is a doomed one in my experience. Without love, there’s no respect and no faithfulness and no frickin’ honour.”

A dark look came over Mikaal’s face and his voice was just as harsh. “Love weakens you.”

Megan shook her head slightly, a little taken aback by his tone. “Love strengthens you. Makes you capable of things you thought impossible. Yeah, it can be a little scary, but the reward of loving someone outweighs the negative consequences.”

Mikaal remained silent before he finally spoke. “You seem experienced on the matter, human. Do you have a mate on Earth for which you hold these feelings?”

Megan licked her lower lip. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“That’s none of your business.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a cynical smile. “You preach it yet you do not live it. If love gives you strength, then why is the pain your past lover inflicted upon you so evident in your eyes?” He shook his head as he moved closer. “Your hypocrisy only serves to prove that your reasoning on love is steeped in nothing but fantasy.” His cynical smile turned smug. “The truth about love, human, is that it’s a waste of time and energy, both to earn and keep it. Love is a weakness that leaves you at the mercy of another fallible being. A being who will, in time, destroy you.”

Anger burned hot in Megan’s chest. If there was anything weighty and close to hand, she would have flung it at Mikaal, ridding him of his superior smile. Unfortunately, she could only resort to a sneer.

“Wow, someone must have really hurt you if that’s how you think.”

The smile slid right off his face with as much speed as the regret filling Megan’s heart. She wasn’t usually that callous, even to arrogant alien kings who basically asked for it by insulting her beliefs and calling her a hypocrite.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean—”

“I have other matters to attend to,” Mikaal cut in sharply. He moved past her toward the door, then turned and regarded her coldly. “I will send someone to have you fitted with appropriate clothing. You will not leave this room without my permission.”

The door slid open, and he was gone.

***

Megan’s outrage caught up a few minutes after Mikaal left.

Launching to her feet, she stomped toward the door. It slid open when she neared it, but the four-armed guards blocked her path by crossing their spears across the door.

“Let me pass!” she said, her voice higher than usual from terror. She drew back a step, her body trembling when they both turned their impassive gaze on her.

They were massive and fearsome. Their blue skin had a sturdy look to it, like if she flung something at one of them, it would bounce right off with nary a wince from the creature. Battling one of these beasts would be a death-wish, let alone two of them. But she wasn’t going to give up. Not so easily.

She edged closer, even though her trembling got worse with every step. She fixed them with her best glare.

“Let me pass,” she said again, her voice carrying a bit more steel. She was ready to cling to shove against the spears when she saw the beautiful woman from yesterday approaching. The woman wore a blue sari today, the material billowing gently as she walked barefoot. Her long black hair bounced with her movement, the natural light coming through the gaps in the halls casting a healthy shine on her tresses.

Stopping a few steps short of the guards, she glanced at Megan before frowning at the guards. She spoke to them in her native tongue and one of the guards responded gruffly. She spoke again, her voice harder. To Megan’s surprise, the beasts dropped their spears, leaving the doorway open.

“Come,” said the woman with a friendly smile. She reached for Megan’s hand and pulled her out of the room.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Megan even though she let the woman lead her along the hallway. She watched the woman curiously, feeling somewhat mediocre in her company. Whereas she must look a crumpled, untidy mess, the woman looked fresh-faced and vibrant, her warm smile and shining purple eyes captivating.

“I am Suri,” said the woman, touching her chest. “I came to take you on a tour of your new home.”

“This isn’t my home,” said Megan quietly. When she glanced back, she found the two guards were following them. Scowling, her tone became bitter. “And I don’t think your klar would be pleased if he found out about this. After all, he forbade me to leave the room without his permission.”

Suri looped her hand with Megan’s as if they were old friends. “You will soon come to learn that my brother is hardly ever a pleasant man.”

For some reason Megan refused to dwell on, it relieved her Suri was Mikaal’s relative and not his wife or mistress.

Megan shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned that already.”

Suri chuckled. “If he forbade you to leave then why were you attempting to do so?” Her smile turned mischievous. “Were you trying to run away?”

“No,” Megan said, exhaling heavily. “I just hate the way he overrides what I want. I guess I was just being rebellious.”

Suri’s violet eyes were shiny with excitement. “You have decided to stay?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Megan shrugged. “I give him his baby and then I get to go home.”

Suri’s look of excitement dimmed. “You will not stay and be a mother to your child?”

Your child.

It shocked her when she considered it from that angle. She’d come to accept she was going to be a mother, but so far, she’d only ever thought of the baby as Mikaal’s. But by using her eggs and her womb, it was her baby too.

My baby.

Megan’s gaze swept around the wide hall. On either side of them, the walls consisted of rows of arched windows inviting bright light which made the red marble floors gleam. She pulled free from Suri and wandered over to one of the windows, gazing out at the spread of the palatial grounds and the impressive landscaping it contained. Beyond the walls of the palace, fields of lavender stretched across the sloping hills, trees interspersed amid the calming purple blanket.

Awestruck, Megan stared out at the beauty existing outside the windows. She’d never dreamed she would see such a magnificent place. Her parents had worked hard to make sure their three daughters had never lacked for the necessities, but the additional pleasures only money afforded were very few. 

Mikaal owns all of this, she thought. She felt overwhelmed by the important connection she shared with a man like him. She was a simple, ordinary girl and she was unashamed of this fact. But standing there now, Megan was further reminded she did not belong in a place like this. So how could she stay? Even if the baby was hers too, how could she stay in a place she did not belong?

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Megan answered quietly, her eyes roving over the alien inscriptions that crawled up the dividers between each window. “I can’t stay and raise this baby.”

“You are where you are meant to be.” Suri said and Megan was ready to disagree when she continued, “Come, let me show you the gardens.”

Megan hardly knew Suri, but she liked her friendliness. What a difference Suri was in comparison to Mikaal. The alien siblings were like night and day. Whereas Mikaal was dark and moody, Suri was bright and amiable. As they resumed walking, Megan thought that friendly company would definitely make her stay on the strange planet easier.

When they exited the hallway, they came to an abrupt halt when they encountered a man standing before them.

“Greetings, my Paera,” he said, pressing long fingers to his chest and bowing his head in Suri’s direction. Then his gaze slid to Megan. “And company.”

The man stood tall, his skin pale. His eyes were so deep-violet they almost looked black. Yet his dark hair and indecipherable tattoos on his forearms made it clear he was of the same race as Suri and Mikaal.

“Varrack.” Suri nodded once, her features unsmiling. “What brings you to the palace?”

Varrack curved his hands behind his back, standing straighter. He was dressed similarly as Mikaal, though his blood red jacket contained far more adornments. Did he hold more power than Mikaal? She doubted it. His dark-eyed gaze held Suri’s before settling on Megan.

“The klar has notified us of his impending fatherhood. I wished to be the first of the council to see the mother of my future ruler.” He extended a hand toward Megan and she grasped it awkwardly. His hand was warm and soft. Definitely not a man who’d ever endured hard labour. Or maybe, Megan thought, this Omaron planet has stellar moisturizer. She was startled when he raised her hand to press a kiss against her knuckles. “A stunning vision you are, my Yena. What is your name?”

Megan’s face grew warm. Holy cow, what a charmer. It didn’t help matters that this Varrack guy was easy on the eyes—if she looked past the slicked back hair.

“Megan. Megan Landay.”

“A lovely name for a lovely creature.” He smiled as he relinquished Megan’s hand.

“Indeed, she is,” said Suri, her tone frosty as she tugged Megan closer. “Your sister is well?”

Varrack’s smile dimmed, becoming tight. “Yes. She visits the Eul Isles as we speak. As such, she would be unable to attend the announcement ceremony.”

Megan shifted her gaze between the two of them. There was something going on beneath their false politeness. Always labeled the inquisitive one of her two sisters, Megan longed to find out more.

Suri nodded. “Yes, of course. It is for the best she doesn’t attend. We wouldn’t want her to be reminded of her loss.”

At that, Varrack dropped his smile completely. His face stony, he pressed his hand to his chest and murmured a cold goodbye. Dwelling on Suri’s words, Megan watched his tall frame receding. What was the announcement ceremony and why would Varrack’s sister not want to be there? She didn’t have to wait long to have her questions answered because Suri shook her head as they carried on walking.

“I advise you to tread carefully with a man like Varrack,” warned Suri, a bitter tone to her voice that Megan understood all too well. It was the same tone she’d adopted when she’d told her sisters about her ex’s behaviour after discovering his cheating ways. “He is nothing but an opportunistic worm. It pleases me Mikaal ended his engagement with that man’s sister. I shudder at the thought of calling him kin.”

“Mikaal was engaged?”

Suri nodded. “Indeed. He ended it abruptly and has yet to state his reasons to anyone. Perhaps he saw in her the insincerity Varrack holds in his heart too.” Suri’s features grew somber. “A reminding of the ways of his mother, perhaps.”

New questions blossomed in Megan’s head and when she opened her mouth to voice them, Suri forged on.

“But we must not concern ourselves with dismal conversation. I will show you to the gardens, then prepare you for the announcement ceremony.”

Megan furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“You carry the future leader of our great planet, my dear,” said Suri in excited tones. “And we must let everyone know of its existence.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

7

Mikaal

 

“Zezvar did not do this.” Mikaal frowned at his army general and close friend, Jonnar. “He is not a traitor.”

Jonnar leaned forward in his seat, his features serious. A rare sight. Since their boyhood days, Jonnar’s jovial disposition was as unrelenting as his mischievous ways.

Even though Mikaal had temporarily decommissioned him from the rebellion fight, Jonnar wore his navy-blue military jumpsuit and heavy black boots, his dark hair cropped flat.

“But he will be in the eyes of the council, Mikaal. It was his code used to unlock the vaults and request the video surveillance deletions.”

“He is being implicated.”

“Mikaal, he is a Lutvian. His kind are currently leading a destructive civil war. There is motive to the medic’s actions.”

“He was my father’s closest friend. He would not help destroy what my father has worked so hard to build.”

“He has to be counted as a suspect.” Jonnar’s voice hardened. “He has to be detained. When the council discovers this—”

“They will not,” growled Mikaal, “because he is not a traitor.”

Jonnar blew out a breath that turned into a soft chuckle.

“Gods above, you’ve always been a stubborn bastard.” A mischievous glint formed in his blue-violet eyes as he leaned back into his chair with a smirk. “I thought you would be in a better mood now that you have a woman.”

“She isn’t mine,” Mikaal grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “She merely carries my child.”

“Which makes her yours.” Jonnar grinned. “A human, too. Weak, yes, but exotic. You lucky bastard.”

Mikaal shook his head slowly. “She is infuriatingly stubborn, disobedient, unmannerly and insulting. I am far from lucky.”

Jonnar laughed as he got to his feet. “She sounds perfect for you, my Klar.”

“What will you do with the information you’ve learned?” asked Mikaal, ignoring his comment.

Jonnar’s grin faded as he regarded Mikaal with reluctant understanding.

“I will not disclose it to the council. Not yet. Zezvar’s code may have authorized the deletions, but someone in security did the work. I intend to find out who. Perhaps this person might lead us to the truth.”

Mikaal nodded. “Good. I look forward to your report.”

“Mikaal,” Jonnar’s voice grew quieter, “there is still a possibility Zezvar committed this crime. While you consider him kin, that does not mean he considers you the same.” With a quick bow, Jonnar left Mikaal alone with his thoughts.

The day passed, the evening chasing away the daylight. Rising to his feet, Mikaal abandoned his desk in favour of his office’s balcony. Outside, the darkening sky cloaked the palace grounds in a gentle shadow, though the lighted walkway from the northern entrance afforded him a clear view of the arriving guests.

The announcement ceremony.

He’d completely forgotten. After the meeting with Jonnar, the rest of his day had been filled with even more meetings on other important matters and paperwork. A dull affair for a man once lauded as a powerful and deadly warrior. Where were the battles and the bloodshed and the fierce sense of triumph? The only fights he encountered these days were the petty bickering among staid politicians.

Mikaal took a deep lungful of the cool evening air. Yet his mind did not calm. His thoughts returned to his discussion with Jonnar and their discovery.

Zezvar is not a traitor. Of course not. Zezvar didn’t have the clearance to authorize video file deletions or access the vaults. Someone had used his code to implicate him.

It was laughable to consider a man like Zezvar capable of such an act. Disturbingly intelligent and resourceful he may be, but Zezvar was like a child despite being three times his age. The medic was quirky, excitable and devoted every moment of his waking hour—and perhaps those dedicated to sleep—to his inventions and scientific work.

His father, the former klar, had been the one to rescue Zezvar and his people from the tyranny of their planet’s king. So why would Zezvar commit such a betrayal? Had the medic intended to use his essence for scientific research? If that were the case, he would have come to him for approval.

Or perhaps he is not what he seems. Maybe things had changed. The ongoing civil war between Zezvar’s people, the Lutvians, and the Omar people might have turned his mind to treachery in an attempt to aid in the Lutvian rebellion.

He wasn’t sure what bothered him the most: the undeniable proof of seeing Zezvar’s code attached to vault access and video file deletion, or how quickly he questioned whether an esteemed member of the royal family for over 30 standard years had committed high treason.

Returning to his office, Mikaal decided to focus on the immediate present. The matter with Zezvar would have to wait until after he’d slept on his thoughts. As he made his way to his chambers, Mikaal pondered on the fact that if Zezvar was the culprit to the break in, then not only was he the reason for his impending fatherhood, but also for his meeting Megan. Mikaal wasn’t sure whether he considered that a blessing or a curse.

As usual, his guards greeted him with a respectful bow as the door slid open to admit him. He took a few steps into the room when the sight before him brought him to a stop. There stood Megan with Suri just behind her. No longer in her human attire, she was garbed in a royal gown—a sari—the light-grey colour covered in red-violet floral patterns. The top portion of the sari left her abdomen bare, yet the sheer material of the drape covered her, hinting at her soft, visible curves beneath. Her chestnut-brown curls pooled around her shoulders, a healthy glow gracing her fair skin.

Gods above, she was stunning. He’d known all along she was a beautiful woman, but standing there at that moment witnessing her transformation from human to Omaron royalty underscored that fact. Fiery want accosted him. He yearned to order Suri out of his chambers before taking the human and her succulent body beneath all that fabric.

“When I pin it here, it should keep the drape from sliding off your shoulders,” instructed Suri as her hands adjusted the set of the sari’s drape. She glanced up and caught Mikaal staring. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Hello, Mikaal.”

Megan’s gaze shifted to meet his. She remained silent but her blue eyes shone bright with nervous excitement. They’d not spoken since the day before when her outburst had driven him away. But realizing his words had engendered that response and regretful for his reaction, he’d sent Suri to keep her company.

Megan bit her bottom lip before releasing it and the action drew his attention to her mouth. Forcing his mind away from thoughts of tasting her lips, he looked at Suri instead.

“How many are expected to attend tonight?”

“A few.”

“Be more specific.”

“Two hundred and twenty-five.” She tapped her chin as she looked skyward. “Mother abhors gatherings so she won’t be attending.”

Mikaal exhaled deeply. “That is far too many people, Suri.” The horrified look on the human’s face said she agreed.

“Hardly. This is a momentous occasion! You should be surprised it’s not more.” Grasping Megan’s hand, Suri led her past Mikaal to the door. “Hurry and get dressed. We will wait for you in the east wing’s parlor so you can make the formal entry.”

He was ready to comment that the formal entry was reserved for if he’d married Megan, but the two women left before he could utter a word. He supposed it didn’t matter. Ever since Megan’s arrival, many of the traditional rules were broken every which way.

Once dressed, he grimaced as he fastened his cloak. The black, gold-embroidered material was heavy and cumbersome, hanging to the floor. He despised wearing the thing, but if the human saw fit to dress like royalty tonight then he supposed he should care to do so too.

His arousal renewed as he thought of her beauty. When he met Suri and Megan in the parlor, he found himself unable to look away from her.

“I will go first and announce you,” said Suri as she hurried down the long stairs, her teal-coloured sari billowing behind her.

The muffled sounds of music and conversation below floated up, filling the silence between them. He approached her, holding her gaze captive. She stared up at him, her wide eyes brimming with uncertainty.

“Are you ready?”

“Not really.”

A smile tugged at his lips from her sincerity.

“All will be well.” He extended a hand for her to take. “Nothing and no-one will harm you in my presence.”

“Right. The many hats you wear. My captor and my protector.” She slid her hand in his and Mikaal grasped it as he led her to the stairs. Her lips curved into a smile when she looked at him. “And let’s not forget: my ‘baby daddy’.”

Mikaal gave her an amused look. Humans and their strange slangs, he thought as he guided her down the stairs. He would never admit it out loud, but he was just as nervous as she. Yet the warmth of her hand in his grounded him, and there was this quiet sense of unity between them. As they walked through the hall filled with people, he took pleasure in the way she pressed closer to him, seeking his protection.

His announcement speech was short, and when he pressed his hand to her stomach in the traditional sign of acceptance of his heir, the many lords and ladies of Omaron cheered. But in that moment, Mikaal did not care about the approval of his people. With his palm flat on her stomach, her heat seeping through her sari onto his skin, her cheeks coloured pink and her blue eyes glittering like the rivers of the Niyalan valleys, only one thought coursed through his head.

Quiet.

Insistent.

Not pertaining at all to the child growing inside her.

Mine.

***

During the night’s festivities, Suri held Megan prisoner as she introduced her to many of her friends. Mikaal tried to follow her every move, but a few of the wealthier lords accosted his attention. They seesawed between obsequious flattery on his kingship and complaints of the Lutvian rebellion.

One of them dared to imply Megan’s human heritage as unsuitable to bear his heir. After Mikaal issued a veiled threat of divesting him of his riches for his unacceptable tongue, the man begged forgiveness and took his leave.

Then the monitoring systems sounded an alarm. The music died away and the conversations came to a halt as the system warned that an unidentified life-source was under distress.

The human.

Alarmed, he searched wildly for the familiar colours of her sari. He was ready to turn the palace upside down when he spotted her slipping out through one of the side doors that led to the pools.

He followed her. She paused along the walkway that divided the wide pool into two and leaned against one of the pillars. The alarm quieted. The muted sound of music and conversation from the hall returned, whereas the occasional chirp of night insects became more pronounced. A cool, gentle breeze disrupted the pool’s surface, curling her hair around her shoulders and the skirts of her sari around her legs. She took a deep breath as though she were freeing herself of some emotion or thought.

“How can I protect you if you refuse to stay in my sights?” he said, standing behind her.

She spun around, her shoulders lifted and tensed. Then her body grew relaxed when she recognized him.

“So everywhere I go you have to follow?”

“Yes.”

She frowned. “That’s a little overprotective don’t you think?”

“There is no such concept where you are concerned.”

“Me or the baby?”

“Both of you,” he said quietly. She held his gaze for a moment before she looked away with a shrug.

“I just came outside for some fresh air.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts as she leaned her head back against the pillar, her eyes closed. Mikaal’s gaze followed the column of her throat and the way her folded arms highlighted the shape of her breasts. He quickly brought his eyes up to her face when she opened her eyes and stood straighter. “It’s pretty overwhelming in there. I’ve never been great with crowds and it’s worse among a race of people I only discovered existed days ago. What was that sound just now, anyway?”

“It is a physiological monitoring system,” he explained. “It continuously records the well-being of every life-form inhabiting the palace. When it detects abnormal activity mentally or physically, it sounds an alarm.”

“So my anxiety earlier activated it?” Megan grimaced when Mikaal nodded. “I guess it’s helpful. But it seems invasive and annoying. What if I … stubbed my toe on a chair leg or something? Would it warn everyone of my terrible pain?”

Mikaal regarded her with amusement. “It can if the threshold for abnormal activity were set that low, but it isn’t.”

She remained silent for a moment, her forehead creased as she watched him. He waited for her to ask whatever question she clearly wanted to ask, and when she refused to do so, he prompted her.

“What is it?”

“I … uhh … well …,” she fidgeted. “I’ve always wondered how this impregnation thing worked on this planet. On Earth, people get pregnant from sex. And we …” She averted her gaze, her cheeks pink. “We never had sex.”

His lips curved into a slow smile. “No, we have not.” He almost added, ‘Not yet,’ but managed to hold his tongue. “You were implanted with my essence. It is taken from me during a ritual by skilled elders.”

“What?” She looked aghast. “So they …?” She made a rude pumping gesture with her semi-closed fist and Mikaal laughed.

“You are surprisingly filthy-minded for one who appears so innocent, human. But no, they did not lay hands on me in any manner. My essence is a powerful piece of energy source the elders have drawn from me. Once the process is complete, it is stored securely in the palace vaults.”

“Hm. Not so securely this time, then,” she said, touching her stomach. Then in a softer voice: “What would you have done if this had happened while you were still engaged?”

Her question gave him pause. He was surprised she knew he was once promised to be married, and her question left him with uncertainty. Indeed, what would he have done had he still been affianced to Valdaria? Finally, the answer came to him.

“The outcome would have still been the same,” he said quietly. “I would have broken my engagement.”

“Really? Why? I—I mean …” She fidgeted again, her curiosity clearly warring with her attempt to be polite. Her behaviour amused him. She amused him, despite the other things he’d said about her to Jonnar.

The urge to kiss her accosted him. He dropped a glance to her full pink lips and the need strengthened. He told himself it was a bad idea in the same breath that he told himself he did not care.

“I did not want her as my wife,” he said, stepping closer. He inhaled her sweet, flowery scent. No doubt Suri had shown her to the perfumed baths. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and bright and hypnotic in their blueness, encouraging him to touch her. He cupped her face with one hand and found her flesh soft, her lips beneath his thumb even softer. “However, I would have still wanted you here with me.”

His hands fell to her sides, pulling her flush against him as he claimed her mouth with his. Her speedy response was surprising and satisfying. She curled her hands around his neck and as their kiss deepened, becoming hungrier, Mikaal wondered why he’d taken so long to do this. Her body was made for his hands, he believed, because what else could explain the perfect fit of her flesh against his?

Their tongues met, they tasted each other, devoured each other. He was as hard as the pillar behind her back and his need to be inside her subverted his usual control. He broke their heated kiss to caress her jawline and neck with his lips, her sigh of his name increasing his desperation. He clutched her sari, ready to shove her skirts up and bury himself inside her right there. But a small, rational voice managed to break through the fog of lust clouding his thoughts.

It was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever made in his life, but he released her. He grabbed her hands from around his neck, shaking his head to clear it. The desire and the anticipation still present in her eyes nearly undid his resolve.

“I … apologize,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“For what?”

“I should not have kissed you.” He released her hands and she wrapped them around her front as though to shield herself. The desire in her eyes faded as suspicion and hurt took its place.

“You didn’t seem to mind when you were doing it.”

“I forgot you were human.”

She regarded him as though he’d slapped her and Mikaal realized how terrible his words sounded.

“Wow, you bigoted ass,” she said before he could explain himself. She dodged his hands when he tried to reach for her.

“Megan, you misunderstand. I did not mean—”

“Oh no. Don’t you dare put any blame on me, you prejudiced asshole. You don’t give a shit about me when I’m in my human clothes, but the instant I look like one of you, you’re all over me.” She pointed at him, her eyes shiny with outrage. Absurdly, the urge to kiss her reawakened. “You better stay the hell away from me from now on. I mean it!”

“Megan—”

His words fell on deaf ears and a stiff back as she stormed off into the palace. Mikaal stood there in mild shock by how swiftly things had turned from very good to terribly bad. He cursed himself for many things: his terrible choice of words, his inability to clarify himself, and his foolish decision to kiss her in the first place. On second thought, he didn’t regret that last part. If given the chance to feel her lips and her body against his, he’d do it all over again.

But doing these things complicated matters between them. It was what he wanted to say, what he should have said, what he would say to her when he spoke with her on the morrow. For now, he would do as she asked and maintain his distance even though it pained him to do so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

8

Megan

 

When Megan woke up the next day, the events of last night returned with bright clarity: the announcement ceremony, the increased anxiety borne from being around so many unfamiliar faces, and the kiss. Megan’s face grew warm when she remembered the way Mikaal held her in his arms and kissed her with fierce want.

She had wanted him more than anything. Had he decided to further things along, she would have followed him shamelessly without a second thought. Unfortunately, things had gone south. In hindsight she may have overreacted even though his words still hurt.

It was for the best, she thought. It’s how she’d consoled herself the night before after Suri and the four-armed guards escorted her back to the room. Kissing Mikaal was a bad idea on its own. Having sex with him? Worst idea among all the terrible ideas that ever existed.

Not that it would be a terrible experience. Oh no. The way he’d kissed her last night? He knew what he was doing and he was damn excellent at it. No doubt his skills in other areas would be just as commendable …

Anyway. That was not the point. The point: he was an alien king and she was a human. Right off the bat, they were totally wrong for each other. They were from two completely different worlds and had only come to know of each other’s existence through a botched theft. A mistake. It didn’t make any sense compounding the first mistake with another big one by sleeping with each other.

Sex came with feelings. Feelings came with confusion. Confusion came with complication. They were attracted to each other, yes, but that was fine. Manageable. And even though it made her stomach feel fluttery that Mikaal wanted her, she couldn’t let herself get carried away. She served one purpose in Mikaal’s life and it was to give him a baby. After that, she was on the first ship—spaceship—back to her home world.

She knew her weaknesses, and her biggest was her inability to compartmentalize emotions. If they had sex she’d develop feelings for him. And then where would that leave her? He wouldn’t want her around. After all, she was a human.

Stop it. Megan got to her feet, blowing out a deep breath to force her mind free of unpleasant thoughts. She glanced at Mikaal’s side of the bed. The sheets were undisturbed which meant he’d not returned to the room. She ignored the hollow pang in her chest as she went inside the closet in search of fresh clothing.

Vaguely, she thought on the fact that Mikaal had kept his promise since her first night in his bed. Her fears that one morning she’d wake up and find him covering her body with his went unfounded. Even in rest, he maintained control as he did while awake.

Except last night.

Except when his hands were all over her, branding her skin with his warmth, his cock like hard steel between them—

Her face hot, Megan let out a soft breath of frustration as she focused every ounce of her concentration on dressing herself. Suri had taught her how to wear a sari and had brought a multitude of them for her to choose from yesterday. She much preferred the freeness of it than her tighter Earth clothing. Not that she’d ever admit that to Mikaal.

Dressed in her newest blue sari, Megan inspected herself in the mirror. She spread her hands over her stomach, trying to imagine what she’d look like when the baby bump began to show. Her heart beat a little faster with excitement. For a moment she wished her mother and sisters were there for her to share the news. Then she remembered her plans to leave once the baby was born. When she returned to Earth, would she tell her family what had happened? Could she?

Megan turned away from the mirror and left the closet. She marched straight to the door, determined to find some activity to occupy her time and her mind. Idling about led to her dwelling on decisions she wasn’t ready to confront.

The door slid open and Megan came to an abrupt halt at the four-armed guards standing just outside. The past two days she’d been able to leave because of Suri. She wasn’t sure she had the same privileges without the alien princess.

“Can I go?” she asked, her voice wavering.

To her surprise, the guards each pressed a fist to their chest and bowed before standing straight again.

What the hell? That was new.

Confused, Megan took a tentative step forward. Then another. She released a deep huff of relief when she walked past them without incident. She lingered where she stood, unsure where to go. Suri had taken her on a tour, but she couldn’t remember what was where and vice versa. She supposed her best bet was to go wherever her feet took her.

Steady footfalls thumped behind her. One of the guards was following her. Megan didn’t mind. It wasn’t a new occurrence. Terrifying they may be, the guards were there to ensure her protection.

And imprisonment.

***

“Despite my constant warning about your safety, you wander off on your own.”

Startled, Megan sat up straight and peered over her shoulder. Mikaal stood behind her, his arms folded across his broad chest. His features were cool and unreadable as his gaze met hers.

She pursed her lips, her voice chilly. “You can’t expect me to stay in one room all day. I’ll go crazy.” She shrugged as she turned back to the huge display screen mounted on the wall. It looked like a gigantic television. She’d found the parlor room from the evening before. After perusing the small bookcase and finding the text in the books illegible, she’d settled for the TV. There was a show going on, but she couldn’t understand a word the alien actors said. It kept her interest mainly from the novelty that aliens had TV shows. “Besides, a guard followed me here.”

He remained silent. Too aware of his presence, Megan stared at the screen, no longer paying attention to the show.

“Have you eaten?”

The question caught her off-guard. She’d anticipated an argument where he inevitably overrode what she wanted.

Her stomach rumbled, answering the question before she could.

“No,” she mumbled.

He came around to stand in front of her, his hand extended for her to take.

“Come with me.”

She eyed his hand but didn’t take it. His words from last night returned, as did the hurt they inspired.

“You’re willing to touch a human?” Her tone was cattier than she intended but she didn’t care. Maybe the more unpleasant she behaved, the less he’d want to be around her, and the likelihood of anything happening between them would be non-existent.

He dropped his hand and stared at her intently. She fisted the material of her sari in her palms and dropped her gaze. She was afraid his violet-eyed stare would be able to look past the wall she was hastily constructing in order to keep him out.

Then he reached for her, clutching her upper arms and pulling her to her feet.

“I am willing to do more than touch you,” he said, his voice quiet. “I have not hidden my attraction to you.” His fingers were warm and rough on her bare skin, his familiar spicy citrus scent intoxicating. His gaze dipped to her lips for an instant and her insides became quivery with anticipation. “And what you are has no bearing on why I’ve refused to take you.”

His bluntness excited her, his words and his touch driving up the heat in her body.

“That’s not what you said last night,” she murmured.

He relinquished his hold and she regretted the loss of his touch.

“I apologize. I did not intend to insult you, Megan,” he said, genuine remorse in his voice and on his face. “But we are from different worlds. You have expressed your wish to leave once the child is born. I do not—I would prefer if our relationship continued without confusion.”

Megan nodded slowly. They were on the same wavelength. Sort of. While those were the exact words she’d said to herself earlier, she felt a twinge of disappointment hearing him say them aloud. He’d accepted the fact that she was going to leave. He wasn’t going to ask her to stay.

“Of course. No confusion.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Friends, then? Because I’m doing you a huge favour here.” She touched her stomach.

He smiled in return, his violet eyes alight with amusement.

“Friends? You’ve called me your captor since you first arrived.”

“Yeah, well, the free food and being treated like royalty changed my mind.” She pointed at the display screen. “The big-ass TV helps too. But I don’t understand a thing that’s being said.”

He glanced at the screen before meeting her gaze again.

“I can teach you.”

“Really?” Megan grinned, just barely resisting the urge to hug him. “After we eat, let’s start with the basics: swear words.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

9

Mikaal

 

He would never admit it out loud, but Mikaal looked forward to the time he spent tutoring Megan on the history and language of Omaron.

Her intelligence and her genuine interest in his culture impressed him. Her strong opinions and easy humour provided him with constant amusement. He liked her. Maybe a bit more than that, too. Yet another thing he wasn’t about to share. The longer he spent in her presence, the harder it was for him to stand by his words to keep things simple between them.

He wanted to kiss her again. It was the prevailing thought cycling through his mind whenever he was in her presence. He wanted her body against his, her mouth pressed to his. Her supple flesh should be in his hands, his name moaned from her lips. Mikaal had always prided himself on his willpower, but each passing day he spent seated close to her, tortured by her sweet, tempting scent, his willpower took a critical hit.

“OK, so how did the Revolian army even know where to protect?” she asked, her blue eyes bright with curiosity. “If they were prepared, then someone from the Omaron army must have tipped them off.”

Mikaal nodded slowly. He’d been recounting the tale of the freedom of the Lutvians from their Revolian slave-masters. He’d expected this question, but he still wasn’t prepared to answer it.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“My mother.”

Her eyebrows rose. “But isn’t that … that would mean she committed …”

“Treason,” he finished, his voice tight. “She was a traitor to my planet and my father.” To me.

Megan frowned. “That’s … unpleasant. But she must have had a reason, right? She wouldn’t have done something like that otherwise.”

“Yes, she did it for her lover, the Revolian king. When her treachery was discovered, she killed herself.”

“Oh, Mikaal, I’m so sorry,” she said softly, reaching for his hand. He slid away from her gentle touch and got to his feet to maintain distance between them. His chest felt heavy, weighed down by a chaotic mix of deep anger and sadness for his mother’s betrayal, and his intense arousal for the human woman he couldn’t have.

“Your condolences are unnecessary,” he said, his tone harsh. “Those events took place many years ago.”

“Mikaal—” she began, but he didn’t bother to let her finish.

“Continue your studies on your own. I have other matters to attend to.”

He stalked off without a backward glance. Only when he returned to his office did he feel regretful for how he behaved. He ignored the guilt by burying himself in work until he was distracted by a call from Jonnar.

“What is it?” he grumbled when Jonnar’s hologram came into view.

“Still yet to enjoy the comforts of your human female, I see,” said Jonnar with a grin. “Or perhaps she’s denied your attempts and that’s why you’re in such a sour mood?”

Mikaal glared. “Remind me to put a bounty on your head. Dead or alive. But preferably dead.”

Jonnar laughed. “Ha. I’m far more precious to you alive, my Klar. To prove my worth, I’ve found a source that can lead us to the truth behind the theft.”

Mikaal sat up straighter. “Where?”

“The planet of deviants: Stoath. I’m flying out tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you.”

***

Work and his impending trip to Stoath kept his thoughts busy for the duration of the day. But as he made his way to his chambers, he remembered his earlier encounter with Megan. Along with the memory came the irritation. With every step he took, his anger increased. She would be there in his chambers. Temptation all over again. A punishment he’d brought on himself in his obstinacy. When she’d mentioned the inappropriateness of her sleeping in his chambers, he’d brushed her fears aside. Now he wished he’d done what she’d asked.

I can still move her to her own chambers, he thought. But that would jeopardize her safety. While he was awake, the protection of the Ahmenian guards were enough, but during rest he preferred knowing she was close by. Not to mention that deep down, he enjoyed having her in his bed, her warm body close at hand.

The door slid open to admit him. He stepped inside at the same moment she exited the bath. Her skin looked vibrant, the semi-sheer material of her nightgown hinting at her luscious curves. Mikaal breathed slowly to calm himself as he advanced into the room, but he only managed to inhale her delicious scent.

He felt her eyes following him as he made his way to the closet to undress. When he returned, she was perched on the edge of the bed. Her gaze fell to his naked chest immediately before climbing to his face again, her cheeks pink.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier.” She dragged a toe along the carpet. “I guess I can be too inquisitive sometimes.”

“No need to apologize,” he said, forcing himself to stare at her face and not at the creamy tops of her breasts and the exposed portion of her thighs. “I … overreacted. I am not fond of those memories.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting down to his chest. When she licked her lips, his cock twitched at the action. Thank the gods he’d decided to keep his pants on tonight. She couldn’t see how hard he’d become.

“What do your tattoos mean?” she asked, meeting his gaze, desire evident amid the curiosity in her deep blue eyes.

He moved closer even though a voice in his head told him that was unwise.

“They have many meanings. But this,” he spread a hand over his chest where the tattoo of the phoenix bird resided, “is the most significant. It was designed on my coronation day. It signifies dominance, perseverance, and loyalty.”

“Can I … can I touch it?”

Her voice was soft in the quiet, her words like a gentle finger sliding down his spine, nearly making him shiver. He knew the instant he felt her hands on his flesh, he wouldn’t be able to maintain control, but he also knew he’d long lost the fight to resist her tonight.

“Yes.”

She slid off the bed, her gaze holding his as she approached him slowly. When she stood before him, her gaze dropped to his chest as her hands tentatively reached out to caress him. His breathing deepened when her hands grazed his flesh. She ran a single fingertip over his skin, tracing the tattoos. Then she followed it with a more courageous touch, her hands gliding over his chest, then his abdomen, and his arms. Her touch ignited a fiery trail wherever her hands went, and the quick rise and fall of her chest suggested she was just affected by her actions as he. Mikaal couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t deny himself any longer. He’d resisted taking her for too long and the well of his willpower had been scraped dry.

“This is enough,” he said, his voice gravelly as he reached for her. He pulled her against his body, bending to claim her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss. With a soft whimper, she opened to him readily. He held her head still by fisting his hand in her curly hair and he devoured her mouth, all of his pent up frustration and lust pushed into his kiss. Her hands trapped between their bodies, her fingers curled against his skin, he kissed her hard and her soft moans only encouraged him.

“I want you,” he groaned against her lips.

“I want you too, Mikaal,” she whispered, as if she was afraid of the honesty in her words.

Mikaal made a low sound of approval as his hands brushed away the thin straps of her nightgown from her shoulders. The material slid from her body with ease, and Mikaal pushed her backward onto the bed.

“You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen,” he said, admiring her flushed face and puffy lips. Pride filled him at the unabashed desire in her eyes. His gaze moved down, traveling the length of her body, lingering on her breasts. They were fuller than when he’d first seen them in the lacy contraption she wore that day. Topped with dusky-pink nipples, the firm peaks begged for his attention.

He didn’t hesitate. His hands fell on her breasts, cupping the soft flesh, his thumbs caressing the firm peaks. Then he smoothed his hands lower still, over the gentle slope of her stomach. His child. A powerful sense of pride and contentment overcame him.

He continued to touch her. Every gasp from her lips made his hard cock pulse. Something inside him still sought for control, still demanded he end this before it got too far but he ignored it. He wanted the human woman squirming beneath him more than he wanted to take his next breath and nothing was going to stop him.

Her hands came around his neck when he bent to capture one of her breasts in his warm mouth. She gripped him to her, groaning with every lap of his tongue over her flesh. He relished her startled cry when he nipped her, soothing the bite with a gentle sucking on her hardened nipple.

“Oh … Mikaal,” she sighed. She would be shouting his name ever more yet, he decided as he kissed his way down her body. He spread her legs, baring her to him. Sliding a finger down her wet slit, he smiled at her in satisfaction.

“I am flattered how easily your body responds to me,” he said, idly grazing her and enjoying the way she squirmed and raised her hips, seeking more of his touch.

“Oh my god, Mikaal … please … just do it …” she gasped.

He smirked. “Do what?”

“Touch me!”

“Ah, so impatient.”

His thumb found her sensitive bud and his tongue parted her wet folds in a leisurely swipe. She arched her back, a long moan escaping her lips as she twisted her fingers in his hair. He moved his mouth higher, covering the fleshy bundle of nerves as he pushed a digit inside her slowly. She cried his name and it only spurred him on to seek her pleasure. He spread her legs wider, desperate to have all of her, greedy to taste and enjoy her sweet wetness on his tongue.

He feasted on her while he pushed a second finger into her tight, warm passage. He couldn’t wait for the moment when his cock would replace his fingers. Each lap and curl of his tongue over her nub turned her whimpers louder, made her grip in his hair tighter. How could he have restrained himself from this? From her delicious taste and her exquisite breathy gasps as his mouth and fingers pushed her closer to completion?

“Oh god … Mikaal … oh … my … goood …” Her body tightened, her hips lifted. She trembled as she wailed his name. Mikaal desperately wanted to bury himself inside her wet heat right in that instant and feel her clamp around his cock instead of his fingers.

He lapped her until her body sagged, then he slid off the bed and shed his pants. His cock sprang free, rock hard and at the ready. Her widened eyes stroked his ego as he moved atop her again.

“I think you might break me with this or maybe scare the baby,” Megan said, her eyes alight with amusement as she reached for him. He jerked and groaned when her warm hands wrapped around his length and gave him an exploratory stroke.

“I think you’ll enjoy it completely,” he said, his voice gravelly. He wedged himself between her legs, his cock grazing against her wet folds. He bent to kiss her and she returned it greedily, her fingers sifting through his hair. He loved the feel of her beneath him, her soft, warm body against his. He knew what they shared in this moment would inevitably come to an end, and this prospect filled him with deep regret.

“I want you inside me, Mikaal,” she whispered against his lips and Mikaal complied. She whimpered as he breached her wet entrance. Then her fingernails dug into his skin and she cried out when he pushed into her fully with a grunt.

Gods, she was tighter than he’d realized. He nuzzled her neck with a groan, heady with the sensation of her wet heat squeezing his length. He withdrew and pushed into her again, and she whimpered, her fingernails grooving into his flesh.

He wanted to be gentle because of her pregnancy but her insistent hands on his backside, pressing him forward encouraged otherwise. No, he hadn’t broken her. Her lifted hips and gasps of his name as he thrust into her with earnest was proof she enjoyed him stretching her. But as he bent to kiss her, he made a deep, quiet promise to himself to ruin her for any other man that came after him. Not that he’d let that happen.

Because she is mine.

“Mikaal …” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him deeper. Her soft cries as she took every inch of his length would never cease to make him crazy with arousal. He drove into her harder, barely sliding out before he was slamming back into her slick passage to the hilt. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with each thrust, tantalizing him. Bending his head, he sucked her soft flesh into his mouth as his hand fondled and squeezed the other. She moaned, squirming and raising her hips with each flick of his tongue over her firm nipples.

“You taste delicious,” he growled, moving his lips against the underside of her breasts. “I would have you on my tongue every waking minute.”

Raising himself up, he continued to pound into her. His thrusts increased, becoming less precise and more fervent. She began to tremble beneath him, clinging to him. Then she was squeezing him, her back arched as her climax pushed a long moan from her mouth.

“Oh my god … Mikaal … yes … yes …”

“Gods, you are beautiful,” he said softly, filled with a deep sense of triumph as he watched her come undone beneath him. But he couldn’t hold back any longer either. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as her inner walls pulsed around his length. Grunting, his release shot from him, spilling inside her warm depths. His cock twitched and his body shook with every spurt until her spasming walls emptied him.

Lightheaded from the force of his climax, he slumped onto his back. He pulled her close, holding him against her possessively. Her cheek pressed against his chest, he stroked her smooth skin.

“Mmm. That was amazing,” she murmured, pressing closer.

He’d wanted simple, but there was nothing simple about this human woman in his arms. He’d only known of her existence through happenstance, yet she was a powerful force that had changed the life he once knew.

And truth be told, he no longer wanted that old life either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

10

Megan

 

Blinking awake, Megan yawned and sat up in bed. The instant the sheet slid down her naked chest, she remembered what had happened the night before.

The filthy hot things she did.

With Mikaal.

She bit her lower lip, her face warm as she remembered everything he did to her. His mouth between her legs, his touch all over her skin, how she came so hard on his cock, she nearly passed out. She spread her hand over the empty spot on his side of the bed. His absence disappointed her even though she knew he liked to start his day early.

But maybe it was for the best she didn’t face him just yet. What would she say to him? How would she behave around him now? Megan closed her eyes and made a harsh sound of irritation. See, this was why she should have listened to logic and not lust. Sex complicates things. How many times had she warned herself about this? Yet the instant Mikaal threw one dark, hungry look her way, she was on her back, moaning his name—

The door slid open and Suri waltzed into the room.

“Megan,” Suri began, then she smiled broadly as her gaze fell to Megan’s chest. “What a pleasant surprise. A pity Mikaal isn’t here to appreciate it.”

Megan blushed to the roots of her hair as she hauled the sheet up to cover herself. Dammit. Why didn’t this place have locks on the doors?

Megan spluttered. “I-I fell asleep like this.”

“Of course.” Suri smiled a little too knowingly for Megan’s comfort. “Now get dressed. I am taking you to the city today now that Mikaal isn’t here to object.”

“Where is he?”

“He left early for Stoath.” She must have seen the confusion on Megan’s face because she continued. “It’s a planet that’s over three standard days away. Awful place. Terribly hot and filled with nothing but criminals.”

“Oh.” She hoped Suri couldn’t hear the weight of disappointment in her voice. “So he won’t be back for a while then?”

Suri shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” Then she clapped her hands, her eyes bright with excitement. “But hurry up. There are so many places outside the palace I want to show you. I will wait outside while you dress.”

As she dressed, Megan tried not to think about Mikaal’s absence. But it was worthless. Why did he leave so abruptly? Only one reason: he regretted what had happened and wanted time and space to forget it. Despite the hurt, she reluctantly accepted this explanation as the truth. He’d said it himself, didn’t he? No complications. Yet they’d still had sex and now … she was in the exact same place she’d warned herself not to be: having feelings for Mikaal.

God, she was hopeless. And stupid. Zero self-discipline whatsoever. A few weeks on a strange, new planet and she’d already managed to fall for some guy that was totally inappropriate. What was the matter with her? As much as it upset her, maybe it was a good thing Mikaal decided to leave for a while. The time apart would clear her head and strengthen her resolve.  Besides, making love to him probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They’d sated their desire for each other and now they no longer had to suffer from temptation.

Smoothing her hand over her front, a flutter of surprise went through her and she marveled at the gentle slope of her stomach. She felt as though the transformation had happened miraculously, even though she’d noticed her midsection becoming wider lately. Her breasts were heavier too, her nipples sometimes tender. Though when Mikaal had touched and tasted them last night, any sense of discomfort had flown right out the window.

Megan released a huff as she pushed the images of last night out of her mind. She caressed her belly, turning to the side and tugging the sari taut across her stomach to properly see her small baby bump in the mirror.

I’m going to be a mother.

The thought thrilled her more than it should. She caressed her stomach, a sad longing twisting in her heart. This was her baby. Hers and Mikaal’s. But it’s not like she could stay and be its proper mother … could she? Megan closed her eyes and shook her head. No, it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to be this baby’s mother and it certainly wasn’t possible to be anything more than an unfortunate incident in Mikaal’s life. The sooner she got that through her head, the better.

Fixing her sari, Megan turned away from the mirror and left to meet Suri for their outing.

***

“Greetings, Megan.”

Megan turned to identify the source of the voice and found Varrack approaching her. She edged closer to the two four-armed beasts guarding her. It was ludicrous to imagine, but over the course of her time spent on this planet, she’d grown to appreciate their fearsome presence nearby, always at the ready to protect her. For some reason, she felt safer with these creatures who were probably capable of snapping her in half than she felt around this man.

“Hello,” she responded quietly.

“You look lovely,” he said. “Your trip to the gardens favours you.”

She frowned. “I didn’t see you there.”

He grinned. “I’ve served at this palace for many years.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I know many of its hiding places.”

She gave him a small smile. “So you spy on people a lot?”

“Not ‘spy’. I appreciate them. Especially beautiful women.” His smile was slow and devilish, enhancing his handsomeness and dulling her nervousness around him. He was flirting with her and it made her blush. She wasn’t interested in him, but his easy charm wasn’t unpleasant either.

Megan chuckled. “Yeah, well, where I’m from there’s a name for people like you.”

“And what is it?”

“Creep.”

Varrack laughed. “I suppose it’s used as an insult? No matter. I will not apologize for finding the mother of my future leader a perfect vision of beauty.”

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of her hand. OK. Flirting was fine, but anything physical definitely had to be cut off. She liked him enough to talk to, but she didn’t want to send any wrong ideas.

Trying to tug her hand away, Megan opened her mouth, ready to order him to not touch her again without her permission. But a voice, familiar in its deepness and its ability to make her body go weak with need, spoke up before she could.

“Varrack, perhaps it is best you keep your traitorous hands to yourself.”

Mikaal.

Megan turned her head, a whirlwind of emotions sweeping through her when she saw Mikaal. Two men dressed in military jumpsuits flanked him.

Mikaal was here. He’d returned to her after many days apart. She had the overwhelming urge to run to him and throw her arms around his neck, pull him close and tight to her body and never let go.

Though even if she’d tried, she couldn’t. Varrack’s grip had tightened on her hand. With one vicious tug, he pulled her up against him, using her as a shield.

What the hell?

“Hey! Let me go!” She tried to squirm away, but the press of something cool and metallic against the side of her head made her go still instantly. She didn’t have to see it. The angry, calculating look on Mikaal’s face and the defensive stance all the guards had taken spoke volumes. She’d watched enough action movies to know this next part: Varrack had a gun pressed to her skin.

Varrack wrapped an arm around her neck. He spoke but in his Omaron language which Megan was still learning. Though she couldn’t understand the words, his voice was remarkably different now. No longer cordial or charming, it dripped with disdain and loathing.

“Release her and I will assure you receive a minimal sentencing for all you have done,” Mikaal ordered in words she could understand, his voice deadly. His eyes were dark with fury, and even though he maintained a composed stance, his body radiated a terrifying intensity. She didn’t believe him. The moment Varrack released her, he was a dead man.

“I am not foolish like you, my Klar,” he said, enunciating the title with a mocking tone. “I plan to escape this planet and your human bitch is my ticket to freedom.” His overconfidence was staggering. “Provide me a ship this instant.”

“Release her,” Mikaal repeated, ignoring Varrack’s demands. He took another step forward, slow and precise, a predator going in for its prey. “Or I will kill you.”

Varrack’s hold tightened around her neck, squeezing her windpipe as he dragged her backward. Megan whimpered and clawed at his hand. She dropped them immediately when he pressed the gun forcefully against her skin. Varrack laughed, the sound harsh and devoid of humour.

“You aren’t fit to be the klar of this planet!” He shouted, his voice laced with petulance. “You never were! I am the only one deserving!”

“Dear me, the kingdom of Omaron would fall into shambles with a ruler as unhinged as you.”

The voice behind them startled her. Easily recognizable from his usual lighthearted way of speaking, even in such a dangerous circumstance. That was Zezvar! She wanted to shout at him to run away, but it was too late. Varrack turned with her, pulling the gun away from her head to aim it at the red-spotted alien doctor.

He fired off a shot and Megan screamed in horror as a bright blast hit the doctor, sending him crashing to the floor. But in that instant of violence, Varrack lost his chance to escape Mikaal’s vengeance. Megan cried out when her body was jerked around as Mikaal tried to wrestle the gun from Varrack.

He released a terrible snarl as he shoved her away from him violently, desperate to maintain control over his weapon. Screaming, Megan shielded her stomach as she hit the ground, knocking her head hard against the floor.

Her vision darkened, becoming blurry. She heard Mikaal shout her name then a few thumping sounds and howls of pain. Then he was at her side, holding her in his arms, calling her name over and over again, begging her to stay awake.

She wanted to. She really wanted to. But her head felt too light, her body too weak. She couldn’t quite distinguish the parts of his face anymore, but she could see the violet colour of his eyes. And she thought with wonder how this moment felt like deja vu. This alien man with the captivating violet eyes had come to her rescue when they first met. Even on that first day, his touch had made her feel safe. Protected.

“Megan,” he said, his voice thick and distant as he caressed her face.

She wanted to respond but couldn’t.

The darkness took her away.

Megan jerked awake as the last tethers of the nightmare released her. Her heart pounding, her hand flew to her stomach, roving over the gentle bump with concern. She’d dreamt she’d lost her baby and the sorrow that followed had driven her into a depressive and suicidal state.

“Are you well?”

Seated in a chair he’d brought close to the bed, Mikaal leaned closer to her, his forehead creased with worry.

“My baby,” she said, her voice hoarse. She winced at the dull ache in her head as she sat up and she rubbed her stomach. “Is my baby OK? Did it get hurt?”

Mikaal remained silent as he watched her intently. With each second he didn’t respond, Megan’s anxiety grew.

“What’s wrong?” Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I apologize,” he said, reaching for her hand. He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles and the gentle touch calmed her somewhat. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I didn’t mean to worry you. The child was not hurt. In fact, Zezvar reports its health is at an optimal level.”

“Zezvar?” Her eyes widened. “But I thought he was … dead.”

Mikaal shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

“It’s difficult to kill a Lutvian, especially one as resilient as Zezvar.”

Megan exhaled with relief. “I’m glad he’s OK.” Then she scowled. “But I guess Varrack isn’t. The bastard. He deserved to die.”

Mikaal smirked. “I’m strangely satisfied with your vengeful spirit, but I did not kill Varrack. He has been imprisoned. As was his fate before he became disagreeable. He orchestrated the theft from my vaults yet tried to implicate Zezvar as the thief. He incited the ongoing civil war as well, growing richer by selling the rebels weapons to fight against my army.”

“Wow, what an asshole.” Megan shook her head. “Is that why you went to Stoot … no … Sto ... ath?”

“Yes,” he said, but a bit too casually for Megan to believe that was the whole truth. He got to his feet and Megan looked up at him, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “Would you like something to eat? You’ve been unconscious for some time.”

Megan licked her lips, finding them dry. “Some water would be fine.”

She followed his movements as he poured water from a glass jug into a glass. He brought it to her, returning to his seat and watching her as she drank. She avoided looking at him, feeling so aware beneath his gaze. The last time they’d spent any considerable time alone together, he’d been between her legs, bringing her to an explosive climax that nearly made her pass out.

She choked on her water. She coughed, clearing her throat and hoping that the action would also rid her mind of her filthy thoughts.

“What?” she finally asked in the quiet as she set the glass down on the bedside table.

“You called the child yours,” he said quietly.

“I …” She looked down at her belly and touched it, her heart swelling with fierce love for the unborn being inside her. “Well, yeah. It’s not just yours. It’s mine too.”

“Yes,” he said and his following silence made her squirm.

“I-I know I wasn’t your ideal choice—”

He leaned forward. “I no longer believe that.”

“You don’t?” Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat increasing pace as he got up from his chair and sat on the bed beside her. He leaned in and cupped her face with one hand, his gaze and his irresistible spicy citrus scent holding her captive.

“I was an absolute fool and I apologize for that.” He moved a hand over her stomach, his hand warming her entire body just from that soft touch. “I believe you are the perfect choice to be the mother of our child.”

Our child. Two simple words, yet they packed an emotional punch that left her giddy and breathless with excitement. Those two words said so much despite being so little.

“Mikaal …” she began, but she didn’t know how to continue. She was dazed with hope. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?”

“I went to Stoath to forget what happened between us.”

Or maybe not.

Megan frowned. He smiled and leaned in close, making sure his lips moved against hers when he spoke.

“It didn’t work. I was miserable the entire time I was on that hateful planet.” He pressed his lips against hers in a quick, hungry kiss, his voice gravelly with need. “I missed you terribly because I love you.”

Her pulse raced, her body quivering with pleasure from his admission. Out of sight, out of mind. It’s the mantra she’d repeated in her head while he was gone. She wanted to laugh now because being here so close to him, the fierce desire she held for him had not abated. Not even a little bit. As a matter of fact, she wanted him more now than she’d ever thought possible.

God, this man made her feel like she was the princess in some fairytale. Was this real? This was happening? Months ago back on Earth, she’d just been some ordinary girl, walking around on bare feet in the grass, bored and disappointed with her life. Now here she sat, pregnant for and head over heels in love with a powerful, handsome alien king. A man who’d sworn off love yet had just admitted to loving her still. A big part of her felt like she was dreaming, but the touch of Mikaal’s lips on hers was far too real.

“I missed you too,” she said softly as she wrapped her hands around his neck. Then she grew flushed as her voice dropped lower. Her heart pounded in her chest, too shy to say the words yet scared at the thought of not saying them. “I love you.”

He kissed her, slow and tender until his tongue slipped past the seam of her lips. Their kiss deepened as they took from each other greedily, revelling in the heady excitement from their mutual admission. Then as his mouth ghosted down her neck, his hands slipping the straps of her nightgown down her arms, he asked her to stay and be his wife, his queen, his klara. Megan sighed her answer against his lips.

Yes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

“But it’s my turn to hold him!”

“What? You had him like five minutes ago!”

“Oh my god! Karen, Jillian, my son is not a ball for you to take turns with or something.”

“That’s right, dears. That’s why I should hold him now.”

Megan groaned and shook her head. “Oh, Mom. Not you too.”

Mikaal regarded the scene with amusement, while baby Kelan gazed at each women with mild interest. Every so often, he’d break out into a big, toothless grin that made all the women squeal with delight. Mikaal seesawed between pride and jealousy that his son clearly had more charm with women than he’d ever possessed.

His gaze settled on Megan. Her blue eyes were shiny with mirth and love, a small smile curving her lips as she watched her sisters and mother squabble over holding Kelan. Since Kelan was too young to withstand the rigours of space travel, Mikaal had brought Megan’s family up as a surprise gift to his new wife. Megan’s happiness fuelled his own, and seeing the bright joy in her eyes as her family surrounded her filled Mikaal with pleased satisfaction.

“Jesus, he’s cute,” said Jillian as she touched Kelan’s small nose with her finger. Kelan broke out into a huge smile as he worked his  chubby arms to reach for his aunt’s hand. “He’s got his daddy’s eyes.” At this, Jillian looked up and smiled shyly at Mikaal. Tall and slim, her straight, brown hair pulled back behind her head, she was the sister that most resembled Megan. She was beautiful, but in Mikaal’s opinion, nobody would ever rival the exquisiteness of his wife.

It was a lot for them to learn but Megan’s family took the truth about her disappearance, her pregnancy and the existence of Omaron well. It was apparent many things still startled them in the two standard days since they had arrived, but Megan patiently helped them adapt.

She was a remarkable creature. Her strength and her intelligence never failed to impress him, her devotion and love for him immensely rewarding. His love for her grew each passing day and his desire strengthened every moment he held her in his arms. Even now as he sat in the midst of her family, his mind became fuelled with inappropriate thoughts of hauling her off to their chambers and showing her how much he wanted and needed her in his life.

As if sensing his improper thoughts, Megan’s gaze met his. Her eyes darkened and her lips curved into that knowing smile. It usually irritated him in the moments she’d bested him in a silly argument but in this instant, it added an extra sensual allure that made him even harder.

“Wait, Mikaal,” she said in a too-innocent voice. “Weren’t we supposed to finalize the details on the Lutvian charity event with Suri?”

Mikaal started to frown. The charity event was several weeks from now and Suri was out visiting friends on another planet—ah.

“Of course,” he said with a nod. He rose swiftly to his feet, reaching for her hand so she could stand as well. “We shouldn’t delay. Suri can be impatient.”

They weren’t outright lies. Perhaps…half-truths. But whereas Megan’s youngest sister, Karen, and her mother nodded with understanding, Jillian smirked at them.

“Right. Well, you two go on, then,” said Jillian. “We’ll look after Kelan while you have your … uhh … meeting.”

“You’re the best!” said Megan with a grin. She slid her hand into his and Mikaal grasped it. When she led him out of the dining room and into his office, his anticipation began to sink. Perhaps she’d told the truth about meeting with Suri? Perhaps he was wrong?

But no.

She pushed him back against his desk. Sliding her hands around his neck, she rose up to kiss him. Groaning, his hands flew around her waist, crushing her body to his. He licked the seam of her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste and tangle with hers.

This gorgeous, delicious, human woman in his arms owned him. They were from two different worlds, but the only one that mattered to him was the one where she existed as his mate. He was completely, irrevocably hers. And she was his too. His to hold, his to kiss, his to touch.

His to love.

Always.

Forever.

“Mine,” he said against her lips and she moaned her agreement as he swept her away in another heated kiss.

 

***

 

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Jillian tightened her fingers around her glass and took a swig. She wasn’t sure what the drink was, and the neon green colour hadn’t inspired much confidence in its edibility at the start, but it was tasty, and she definitely got a buzz with each sip.

She licked away the tangy sweetness of the drink from her lips and cast her gaze around the room. The party guests occupied a large, circular hall. While colour was sparse and polished metal dominated, the mauve-and-gold divisions between each equal section of the walls were a tasteful touch.

The walls were made of opaque glass that admitted light in the daytime, yet preserved privacy at night. Overhead, the transparent glass of the ceiling revealed a stunning view of the inky night sky, dotted with the bright lights of nearby stars. It enhanced the spaciousness of the room while warm white light cast a shine on the marble floors.

Because Jillian was an interior designer, a beautifully decorated room often brightened her mood. Granted, she could think of a few things to add to improve the starkness of the hall, but she conceded that sometimes, simplicity was best. Nevertheless, gorgeous decor or no, she wanted to leave.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. Varying scents of soft, pleasant fragrances lessened the antiseptic odour of the room, while melodious, jazzy music underscored the sound of laughter and conversation.

Her back straight and her eyes wide, Jillian held her glass against her front as if it were a shield. She hated crowds. Her sister knew this, yet here she stood, pressed up against the wall, enduring a going-away party thrown in her honour.

She didn’t know anyone here. Correction: she didn’t even know what was here. Save for herself and her sister, every other being dancing and laughing and behaving like normal wasn’t actually normal.

At least not human normal. They were all members of an alien race called the Dava, residing on this alien planet called Omaron. The planet’s king, Mikaal Ahrisi, was also of Dava heritage. Despite being a human, Jillian’s sister, Megan, recently became the queen when she married Mikaal. How they met in the first place was an incredible story that got better with each retelling.

Sure, the Dava people appeared mostly human. But one look at their strange purple eyes and the blood red markings marching up and down their arms made it clear there was something different about them.

Then there were the other beings that didn’t even look human at all: fearsome, blue-skinned, four-armed creatures stationed at every door. Mikaal called them Ahmenians and spoke highly of their protective nature and skill in combat. Jillian believed him whenever she eyed the lethal-looking spears gripped in the Ahmenians’ foremost pair of hands. However, despite her one Earth month’s stay on the planet, she’d yet to overcome her terror for them.

At least being in the presence of the Lutvian people was a breeze compared to the Ahmenians. She supposed her budding friendship with the palace’s Lutvian medic, Zezvar, helped. She’d long grown to accept his red, spotted skin and tusks due to his quirky, yet humorous and affable personality.

Jillian downed the remainder of her drink and set it down on a nearby table. Not for the first time, she watched with mild amazement as the glass dissolved into the surface, disappearing entirely.

Jillian shook her head. One thing she’d come to learn quickly during her stay on Omaron was that nothing stayed put and everything was likely to pull a disappearing act somehow or other. In her short trip, she’d seen stationary items vanish into the floor, hovering vehicles whizzing by so quickly they made her head spin, holographic communication, underwater cities, floating buildings, and most importantly, space travel.

It all defied the logic she was accustomed to for the past twenty-nine years she’d existed on Earth. While some things still bore a similarity to her planet, the technology on Omaron was far more advanced.

Her hands free, Jillian folded her arms beneath her breasts and wondered if she should head to the drink dispensary and order a new glass of neon green. Megan had been called away from her side some minutes ago, and the drink had been her remaining source of fortification against crushing anxiety.

Now her drink was gone, she wouldn’t survive standing around by herself. The urge to flee and call it a night mounted. But she couldn’t do that. Megan would be disappointed if she didn’t even try to enjoy the party. Jillian’s greatest fear behind the sight of a nest of spiders or bright yellow paint on a living room wall was being a disappointment.

When she glanced in the direction of the dispensary, she felt a subtle, quivering sensation in her lower belly. She bit her lips together as a gentle frown formed on her forehead.

He’s here!

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, or maybe the order was to her heart, which had picked up the pace at the sight of the man standing at the dispensary. She fiddled with her glasses, trying to stare at him inconspicuously.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in a navy, militaristic jacket and charcoal trousers. The jacket fit him to perfection, highlighting his muscular arms and wide chest. His dark hair was cropped short, though the top was just a bit longer and stood on end as though he constantly ran his hands through it. His strength was visible, undeniable. Even standing at a distance and in profile, there was no disputing his handsomeness.

Like Mikaal, his straight shoulders and flat-footed stance easily gave him away as a man accustomed to being in charge, being in control. Yet unlike Mikaal, he made her skin hot and her insides shiver every time she looked at him.

Jillian knew she was being ridiculous. She had a crush on an alien man who barely registered her existence beyond a polite but formal greeting when in each other’s company. With a cool smile, he’d introduced himself as Jonnar Dorayan the day he came to collect her for her trip. But in Mikaal’s presence, he was a completely different man. Relaxed, jovial, friendly.

Maybe he had a thing against humans. But she didn’t believe that. After all, he seemed to genuinely like Megan. But who didn’t? Megan’s frankness and quick humour won over everyone. So maybe Jonnar was just like her: distrustful of anyone or anything he wasn’t accustomed to. Even so, his arm’s length treatment toward her was probably for the best. It only squashed her stupid crush into nothingness. Pursuing a man was off the table right now. Perhaps even indefinitely.

Jillian swallowed and blinked rapidly to ward off the bad memories surging in her brain like a destructive tsunami. Instead, she focused on Jonnar and the alien woman standing with him at the drink dispensary. Their body language suggested heavy flirting. The woman laughed at something Jonnar said and pressed her hand in an intimate gesture against his chest. A brief spark of jealousy burned within Jillian.

She stomped it out before it set afire.

 

 

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