Read Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance Online
Authors: Juniper Leigh
But I was not done with her.
I tugged my tunic over my head and unlaced the front of my breeches, allowing my cock to spring free. Reaching forward, I slipped an arm beneath her and turned her over on the mattress, positioning her so she was on her hands and knees in front of me. Admiring that fine, round bottom, I reached forward to spread apart her opening. Then I pressed my hips forward until the head of my cock was angled at the center of her soft, slick opening.
I entered her slowly so she could feel every inch of me filling her, but she pressed back against me to close the distance at a faster pace, and after a moment she began to rock herself back and forth, so I did not have to move at all. I bent forward and cupped her breasts in my hands as she bounced back and forth, and I could feel my orgasm growing almost immediately.
But this was our last night, and I did not want it to end this way. I wanted to see her.
I pulled away, and she peered over her shoulder at me, almost pouting. But then I simply repositioned her on the bed so she was once more on her back, and plunged into her again so we were separated only for a moment.
She wrapped her legs around me, clinging to me by the neck, and I encircled her with my arms. We were as close as we could be, and when I climaxed, my lips found hers and for that moment, we were one.
Breathing in the aftermath, Lorelei rested her head on my arm. We did not speak — we did not have to. Our bodies had said everything that needed saying, and we knew.
We knew.
I do not remember when we fell asleep, but we were roused by Lorelei’s ladies in waiting when the Winternight ended. They curtsied in front of the bed before rushing around to offer her a robe, and I wondered why my queen’s servants were so on point but mine were nowhere to be found. Then I realized her coterie was comprised entirely of enterprising Europax women, and mine was made of Qeteshi men with other, more important things to do than tend to my every whim. So I was left to dress myself.
“My lady, my lord,” one of the Europax women said, “the
Atria
has sent a shuttle.”
I blinked. “Already?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. I looked at Lorelei, but she did not look at me. She simply allowed the ladies to fix her hair until it was a beautiful twist of curls atop her head. She wore the clothes that had been a gift from the marketplace, all fine royal blue and rich forest green, and she looked queenly when we left the bedchamber. Me, I donned my crown to see her off, but I did not feel like a King. I felt like a man, abandoned.
The gaggle of ladies filed out of the room and held the door open for us, but Lorelei hesitated. “Give us a moment, please,” she said, and the last one bowed her head and closed the door behind her.
We had been dressed in a whirlwind, without a chance to speak two private words to each other. But now that we were alone again, in the harsh light of day, I did not know what to say to her.
I swallowed, trying to choke down the knot in my throat, but Lorelei seemed assured as she came forward and took my hands in hers. Some king I turned out to be, I thought bitterly. I would weep at the departure of a human girl.
“Calder,” she began quietly, never taking her eyes off of my face, “there are some things I want to say to you, and…and I might fumble around a little so please just wait until I’m finished before you say anything, all right?” I gave a sharp nod of my head in response, and she took in a deep breath. “ I do not know how to thank you for everything you have done for me. And I do not just mean…” She swallowed. “I do not just mean helping me find the girls or get away from the slavers, though those things are huge, and I’ll be forever in your debt.”
She swallowed, and I saw her green eyes go glassy and red with the tears she struggled to keep back. “You saved my life. Literally and figuratively. You nursed me back to health, you helped me to find my friends, you…” she laughed a little, faltering only slightly. “You made me a queen. And I owe you everything. But more than that…” She lifted a hand to wipe a tear away with one delicate fingertip. “You showed me an entire new world, the likes of which I have never seen before. You welcomed me, you offered me a home, and I… I am loathe to leave it.”
“Then do not.”
“I must.” She sniffled, and I watched the tears spill out over her cheeks to leave tiny tributaries in their wake. “At least for a time. I owe my parents an explanation, and I have to help direct the Echelon as to where they might find the other girls. I have to. Please understand.”
“But you can come back.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But you have to understand, the
Atria
is an intergalactic ship, a hub for all sorts of things and people. Next week, I could be light years away.”
I gave a slow nod of my head, attempting to remain as stoic as possible.
“And furthermore,” she continued, “I do not know that staying is the right choice for me. What do I know of being a queen? What do I know of being Qeteshi?”
I tried to smile. I failed. “You are a natural.”
She lifted a hand to my face and I was obliterated by her gentle touch. “I would beg you to come with me—”
“But you know that I cannot.” She nodded, her lips pursed, and fell into my arms. I hugged her close. I thought I might break her with the force of the embrace.
“You will always be to me as you are now,” I choked out, “beautiful and strong and full of purpose.”
When she pulled away, she stood on tip toe to press a kiss to my lips. It was brief, but sweet, and full of our unspoken longing.
“Thank you, Calder,” she said. “For everything.”
She took a moment to compose herself, smoothing her hands over the front of the soft fabrics adorning her before heading to the door. We walked out of the room together, out of the Spire, and into the reality of our disparate futures.
We headed out into the open square in front of the Spire, to the same place where we’d made the exchange of the girls with the Quarter Moon. The atmosphere was an entirely different one on this day, with a small shuttle settled off at the periphery of the open space. My queen and I stood in front of Waelden and our four women as the Echelon contingent approached.
“That is Mireena Mafaren,” Lorelei whispered, indicating the woman at the front of their formation. She was a regal-looking creature, whose pale skin was almost blue where her veins showed through. Her head was shaved but her brows were dark and thick, arched high above eyes the color polished amber. She was clad in black, low cut and form-fitting, which gave her an air of timeless elegance, of agelessness. I turned my head to see one of our returned slaves — Tierney, with the long blond hair — staring at this women with startled eyes. Ah, her mother, then.
Behind Mireena came a collection of other individuals, whom Lorelei either did not recognize or did not think were important enough to whisper about. The one who caught my eye was Qeteshi, whose advanced years did not undercut the impressiveness of his stature. He was a proud and noble warrior with skin the color of fresh tilled earth. His fist curled around a staff which helped him to remain upright. His flesh bore tattoos like mine. But even from a distance, I could see that his eyes were the same vivid gold as the horns curled around the crown of his head.
There was a human woman with him, lovely and soft, with rust-colored hair falling in elegant curls over her shoulders. She wore similar garb to Mireena Mafaren: all black, cut low to provide a glimpse of her décolletage.
“Your majesty,” Mireena said as she approached, bending her head in a modest show of deference to my station. “I want to personally thank you for sending the distress signal and alerting us to the situation with the Keldeeri.” She extended her hand to me then, and I took it in mine, bending to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “My name is Mireena Mafaren,” she said, and I quirked one corner of my mouth up in a smile even as I nodded my head.
“Your reputation precedes you, Madame,” I said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with all the diplomacy. A lady like Mireena suddenly made me feel acutely aware of just how far behind the times my people were. I stood a little straighter. “But you owe your kind thanks to my wife.”
Lorelei stepped forward then, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. Mireena looked over at her, and it was clear that she didn’t recognize Lorelei right away. But then it clicked. Mireena’s expression changed to one of utter shock. It was there, and then just as quickly it was gone.
“Lorelei Vauss,” she said, coming up to my queen and gripping her by the hands. “As I live and breathe.”
“It is good to see you, Madame,” she said. “Have my parents come planetside with you?”
“No but they are waiting aboard the
Atria
.” Mireena smiled down at Lorelei, and she propped her hands up on her narrow hips and shook her head very slowly. “I did not realize that you…”
“What?”
“Time flies,” she said. “I suppose…” She shrugged. “The way your parents speak of you, I thought you were much younger than you are. A child, perhaps. But no, you are the same age as my own children.”
“Speaking of which…” Lorelei turned and held her hand out toward Tierney, who came slowly forward. Mireena grew stony where she stood, even as she stared down at her daughter.
“Tierney,” she said coolly. “Are you well?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. Then Mireena leaned forward and pressed a strange kiss to her daughter’s forehead. It was enough to distract me from the fact that my Lorelei would be leaving the planet at any moment.
“Well,” Mireena said, “we have much work left to do in locating the other girls, and I’m sure you are all eager to be on your way.” Mireena included all of the women in this, but Lorelei looked away.
The entire meeting was not what I expected. The Qeteshi did not so much as introduce himself. And before I knew it, the entire coterie was on its way back to the shuttle. I saw Sara Yve wave to Waelden, but the girls all walked in a somber line as though in a funeral procession. My Lorelei took up the rear, walking with her head bent. I did not expect her to make some grand show of her affections for me, not in so public a forum, but I longed for her to look back. Anything, if she would look back.
I kept my eyes trained on her and held my breath, attempting to remain as stoic as I could while my insides roiled with the painful force of her leaving. She grew smaller the further away she moved, but finally — blessedly — she turned. I caught her eyes, green and bright as summer leaves, and she smiled. She smiled, but I saw the rivulets of tears trailing over the apples of her cheeks. I do not know if I smiled, but I do know that it took every ounce of my strength not to weep.
The shuttle ride out of the Qeteshi orbit was a somber and turbulent one. We broke through the cloud cover at top speed, jostled violently as we sat strapped into our chairs. I was queasy, but I attributed it to my grief. And the bumpy ride in the shuttle only exacerbated the problem.
Once we’d reached the tropopause, everything began to smooth out. Higher and higher we climbed, until the blue and white of the planet’s atmosphere gave way to the endless black of space, spotted like an exotic cat with speckles of starlight.
As we continued our smoother course to the
Atria
, I unbuckled myself from my chair and moved slowly through the cabin to where Mireena sat with her daughter, who turned to peer out the window in sullen silence.
“May I?” I asked, gesturing to the chair across from Mireena.
“Of course.”
I took a seat, and tried not to think of Calder. I did my best not to look back, but the further away I moved from him, the more it felt as though my heart strings would snap in half. I looked back, and there was a look of such raw vulnerability on his face, I thought I might drop to my knees in the dirt, or else run to him and never leave his side again.
But my job was not finished. Not nearly.
“We tried to get Teldara Kinesse and Ciara Zehr back,” I began, “but we were unsuccessful.”
“Yes,” Mireena confirmed, shifting in her chair and crossing one lithe leg over the other. “I read your report.”
“I would like to ensure that the Echelon continues to actively pursue their retrieval,” I asserted, mustering as much confidence as I could. I needed to be the voice of those lost women; I owed it to them to do everything in my power to bring them home.
“Of course,” Mireena confirmed. “We do not deal lightly with kidnappers. I’ll have you brief a specially appointed task force that will take over the investigation. I assure you that I, and the rest of the Echelon, deeply appreciate everything you’ve done to return these women to their homes.”
I proffered a thin smile and inclined my head, attempting to be gracious. “There is one more thing.”
Mireena waited with calculating patience until I was simply forced to continue. “The King needs his coffers refilled.”
Mireena canted her head to the side and blinked, as though to ask, How exactly is this my problem?
I went on. “The King spent a great deal of money buying us back from the slavers. I promised him that the Echelon would not allow them to be bankrupted for our sake.”
I watched Mireena as she ran her tongue slowly over her crimson lips. “I do not think that it was wise of you to make promises you were not sure that you could keep.”
I felt my face flush. “Please,” I said. “I cannot be the reason that they are broke.”
Mireena gave a wave of her hand, dismissive. “They don’t need the credits. They aren’t even trading on a global scale, let alone an intergalactic one.”
“But what if that changes?” I asked. “What if they advance, and they need that money? What if—”
“They are centuries away from making the kind of technological advancements that would necessitate the replenishing of their coffers.”
“But…the technology in the Spire…”
“Suggests only that their species was once capable of great advancement. But the Qeteshi are now a primitive people. You have seen how they live: fire pits and stretched canvas. Their problems would be all but eliminated if they could centrally heat their domiciles. But they haven’t even gotten that far yet. Lorelei, I understand you want to make good on your promise, but—”