by Roxie Ray
Her Fated King
Lunarian Warriors: Book 7
Roxie Ray
Contents
1. Alora
2. Ronan
3. Alora
4. Ronan
5. Alora
6. Ronan
7. Alora
8. Ronan
9. Alora
10. Ronan
11. Alora
12. Ronan
13. Alora
14. Ronan
15. Alora
16. Ronan
17. Alora
18. Ronan
19. Alora
20. Ronan
21. Alora
Maid For An Alien Prince
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Her Fated King
1
Alora
“Just remember the stakes, Alora.”
“Remind me, then.” I rubbed my eyes until I saw fireworks behind my lids, then blinked at my brother’s face glowing up at me from my shiny new communicator as I fought back a yawn. Intergalactic travel, I was quickly coming to realize, was completely exhausting. “What are the stakes?”
“If you don’t marry King Brixta, please him, gain his love and trust, and bear children for him, thousands of gray-class citizens will die.”
“Of course.” I closed my eyes and sighed. Bride to an alien king—or else. Those were some stakes, all right. “You know, Knox, you always did have a way with words.”
“That’s why I’m next in line for the presidency.” Knox raked his fingers through his chestnut hair and gave me a wink worthy of the Oval Office. “I’m very convincing.”
“You’re next in line for the presidency because you were born two years before me, brother dearest.” Part of me wished sometimes that our roles could be switched—but given the state of the sectors, with a choice between becoming an alien king’s mate and running the country, neither was really a very fair fate.
“And you’re being sent to Lunaria because you’re a beautiful, educated human woman with two exemplary ovaries and a working womb.”
“Don’t remind me.” I rubbed my eyes again, but no matter what I did, they still ached with fatigue. I was desperate for a few more hours of sleep, but there just wasn’t any time.
My fiery red hair was straightened. It fell all the way down to the small of my back. My lipstick was applied, deep red like the sectors’ flag. My traditional Lunarian outfit, a low-cut top with billowy sleeves and a long, heavy skirt that swished around my ankles with every step I took, fit me like I’d been born to wear it.
I supposed, depending on how you felt about destiny, you could say that I had been.
“Look at it this way.” Knox tried to reassure me as I pulled myself up out of bed and gave myself a final once-over in the mirror of my suite here aboard the transport ship. “Once dear old dad finally croaks, and you’ve given King Brixta a child—”
“A cub,” I corrected him. I’d read over my briefing on Lunarian culture so many times that it might as well have been my own now. “They call them cubs there.”
“A cub, then. Your presence on Lunaria—your marriage to the Lunarian king—your place at court as mother of their future ruler—all of which will ensure that we’re able to meet all of our goals on Earth. Isn’t that what you wanted, Alora? What we’ve spent our entire lives planning, working for?”
“It is.” I tried to force a smile in the mirror and found it surprisingly easy. A lifetime of carefully staged political rallies and father-daughter photo ops had primed me for that, I supposed. “But what if I fail?”
“You? Fail?” Knox laughed. “You’re Alora Rosenvale, daughter of the most powerful man on Earth.”
“If you can call our father a man anymore,” I scoffed. “After the way he beat mom after press briefings? That doesn’t seem like much of a man to me.”
“I’ve seen you charm gold-class billionaires from across the room with nothing more than a look, Alora.”
“Less than a look.” I adjusted my top, which was pushing my breasts up so high that my entire chest ached. “They weren’t exactly watching my eyes.”
“And I’ve seen you melt the hearts of even the most black-blooded killers in the sectors’ military with just one small act of kindness,” Knox concluded. “It doesn’t matter what you’re up against. You’re you. You can do anything you put your mind to, Alora.”
“Even this?” My forced smile didn’t waver, but I wasn’t sure my will was quite so strong now that I was mere moments away from boarding the Lunarian ship that would take me to my future. My doom.
“Even this,” Knox said with a nod.
“And if I don’t succeed, thousands of people will die.” My shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture, but the weight I felt on them was like carrying my entire world on my back, nonetheless.
“No,” Knox said. “When you do succeed, hundreds of thousands will live. We’ll abolish the class system here, Alora. We’ll stop the indentured servitude of prisoners in Sector Five. No more unwilling breeding slaves sent to Lunaria. No more women forced to bear children—”
“Cubs.”
“Cubs,” Knox corrected himself again, “against their will.”
“And when the Lunarians decide to cut Earth off from their technology as a result? When the sectors’ economy crashes because it’s not being propped up by Lunarian tech and profiting off the work of gray-class laborers anymore?” This was the part of our plan I liked the least. I knew the answer.
I just didn’t know how we were going to manage to pull it off. How I was going to pull it off.
“Lunaria won’t cut us off,” Knox assured me. “Lunaria will help us, because King Brixta is going to be so in love with you by the time all of this comes together for us that all you’ll have to do is pout in his general direction and he’ll give you whatever you want.”
“He’s having me shipped there for my womb, Knox. Not out of love.” How could the king love me? The presidential photographer had sent over pictures of me, full holograms of my body and medical records proving my virginity and fertility, but that was it.
I was just a body to the Lunarian king. Nothing more.
“You’re more than just a womb to him, Alora. He has access to plenty of those already.” The confidence in Knox’s green eyes was shining with certainty. They were the same green as my mother’s. The same color as my own. “You’re regal. You’re erudite. You’re fierce and noble and strong. King Brixta didn’t choose you for your womb. He chose you because you—and only you—have it in you to become his queen.”
“If you say so, Knox.”
Seven years ago, I was just a doe-eyed eighteen-year-old dreaming of the rich, powerful man I knew I’d someday marry, believing all of that would have been a breeze. But now, at twenty-five, I knew that all my silly, girlish daydreams had been wrong.
I wasn’t marrying some handsome, platinum-class trillionaire. I wasn’t even marrying a man.
Sixteen years ago, when a missing influencer broke the news to all of the sectors that not only were aliens real, but they were after human mates, my fate had been sealed.
Aliens were out there. Lunarians were out there. Their dwindling population needed children born from human women to survive its decline, and if the sectors didn’t provide them willingly, they would likely be taken by force. Just like other aliens—worse aliens—had been doing for decades.
And now, I was supposed to become their queen.
“You can do this, Alora.” Knox smiled at me. There was only a hint of sadness in his eyes. Because he was going to miss me, I wondered? Or because he knew what he was asking of me�
�and because we both knew that no matter how worried about all of this I was, I didn’t really have a choice. “I believe in you.”
“I guess someone has to.” I nodded to myself in the mirror, then down at Knox’s face on the communicator in my hand. “You’re sure?”
“When it comes to you, little troublemaker?” Knox grinned as he used the nickname he’d given me when we were just kids, breaking into the White House kitchens to sneak snacks and tying the shoelaces of our father’s friends together underneath the table during state dinners. It all felt like it had happened a lifetime ago now. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.”
“Miss Rosenvale?” A knock sounded on my door. One of my security officers was outside, ready to collect me. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” I called back to him. There was no uncertainty in my voice as I said it, but unfortunately, it was still there in my heart. My thumb hovered over the communicator’s end call button below Knox’s face. “See you around, big troublemaker.”
“Good luck, Alora. See you around.”
I took a deep breath as I ended the call.
Good luck was right.
I was certainly going to need it.
The bridge connecting the ship that had brought me into space and the Lunarian transport was a long, empty hallway. Every step I took in my impossibly high heels echoed all around me. It only made me feel more alone.
I wasn’t allowed to bring anything from Earth with me. From the clothes constricting my chest and waist to the shoes on my feet, everything I wore was Lunarian-made. The jewel on the center of the choker around my neck was brilliant purple, harvested from a Lunarian mine. It glowed softly, just the tiniest bit warm.
I hoped it wasn’t radioactive—but then again, apparently the Lunarians had a cure for cancer on their planet these days, so maybe that didn’t matter so much.
Even the communicator in the pocket of my skirt, my one connection back to Knox and the rest of Earth, was Lunarian technology. Capable of beaming video and messages from Lunaria to Earth all the way through outer space. The clothes I’d worn to board the ship, my comfiest pair of sweatpants and my favorite t-shirt, would be sent back to Earth. My cellphone, full of pictures from happier times and farewell messages from friends I’d never see face-to-face ever again, I’d left on my dresser in the ship’s suite.
As far as the Lunarians were concerned, I wouldn’t need any of that anymore. Not where I was going.
Not when I was married to their king.
I took a deep breath as I came to the end of the bridge. I knew what to do: wave my hand across the doors and watch them slide open to my future. No one was coming with me. I’d even left my human security detail on the other ship.
On the other side of these doors, I’d have a new security detail—a Lunarian one. I’d be given a Lunarian handmaiden, a full Lunarian wardrobe.
A new Lunarian life.
And in order to do that…
I’d have to take the plunge and leave my old life—my old planet—my old self behind.
I was Alora Rosenvale, future queen of Lunaria.
I needed to stop worrying and start acting like it.
I waved my hands across the doors like I was dismissing them from my presence. When they separated, I stepped through them with my shoulders back and my head held high.
And then I saw…
Him.
I was tall in my heels—and out of them, for that matter—but he was taller. Much taller. Even from across the room, I could tell that his shoulders were set at the same height as the top of my head. He wore a crisp white uniform decorated with gems arranged like medals over his heart. I spotted a glowing purple one and touched the jewel at the center of my throat.
It was the same kind as my own.
His hair was the same color of purple too—though thankfully, not glowing. It was shaved short on the sides, glossy and thick on top. His skin was a rich orange like the color of a vibrant sunset.
But his eyes…his eyes were strange. In my briefings, I’d read that Lunarian eyes were almost exclusively purple, except for those of their secret service, which were black. But his eyes…
As I took a few steps closer to him, I realized his eyes were gorgeously, intensely blue.
And that wasn’t the only thing strange about him. Lunarians were bipedal. Humanoid. Two legs, two arms—just like me. But this Lunarian had four arms coming out of his uniform’s jacket.
Four thick, strong-looking arms.
Whatever I’d expected to encounter here…
It certainly hadn’t been him.
“My queen.” He spoke first. His voice was deep and smoky. I knew that the translator chip implanted just behind my ear was translating his words from Lunarian to English, but somehow, I felt like I would have known what he meant even without it.
Suddenly, I had goosebumps.
And just like that, my regal, too-cool-to-be-nervous facade was brought to its knees.
“I’m…um, I’m Alora.” I struck my hand out toward him, stiff and far too businesslike. “Strictly speaking, I’m not your queen.”
“I suppose not.” The Lunarian glanced down at my fingers, shaped like a blade, then took my hand into his own. He turned my palm over and gave it a gentle squeeze as he raised it to his mouth. “Not yet.”
His kiss against my knuckles was warm. Enchanting. His lips were soft, pillowy at first touch…then firm.
Too firm.
He kissed my hand like he was trying to leave a mark on my skin. His eyes closed and I felt him inhaling. Breathing me in.
It took me a second to realize that, even after he pulled away again, we were both holding our breaths.
“You…you didn’t tell me your name,” I stammered. I didn’t know what else to say.
“Ronan Moonsong.” A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips. His unfairly gorgeous lips. “I will be watching over you to ensure you reach Lunaria safely.”
“I appreciate that.” I glanced down at his hips. A gun—a blaster, they called them—hung from one side of his belt. A heavy-looking dagger hung from the other. It was a small relief. “I remember when the first humans were sent to Lunaria all those years ago…I was just a child at the time, but I was in my father’s study with him when they came to tell him the ship was lost.”
“Were you?” Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“Is it?”
“Might be. I was on that ship.”
“You were…oh.” I touched my fingertips to the center of my chest. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize. You…you lost fifteen years on the planet you crashed on, didn’t you?”
“It seems the president’s daughter does not miss much.” Ronan bowed his head in a simple nod. “I did.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said again as a light flush rose to my cheeks. Suddenly, it felt like I’d just made a huge faux pas. “That must have been so hard for you.”
“It is nothing. The way I see it, the crash and lost time simply allowed me to be here with you now.” He shrugged, smiling softly. “Perhaps it is fate.”
“I…oh.” My mouth was suddenly dry. I was desperate to lick my lips, but I knew it would ruin my lipstick. “Yes. I suppose…maybe so.”
Mercy. Ronan was…handsome. Undeniably so. He was well-spoken in a casual, almost poetic kind of way—exactly the kind of thing that threw off political dynasty types like me. He was gentlemanly…albeit maybe a little too friendly. I could still feel the place where he’d kissed my hand.
If I was any more flustered at this point, I was going to leave sweat marks on this top. And as my father had reminded me time and again throughout my youth, Rosenvales did not sweat.
“Would you like—” Ronan started.
“Maybe you could—” I began at the same time.
But cutting us both off was a gentle rumble that reverberated through the ship all around us.
Immediately, my heart stopped.
This journ
ey was my first in space, a place I still knew could be dangerous. My briefing had managed to just barely gloss over them, but I knew the risks. And considering what had happened to the last transport between Earth and Lunaria that Ronan had been on…
I didn’t want to say he was cursed, but as the ship vibrated around us, that was definitely a possibility.
To make things worse, out of nowhere the ship jerked sharply, throwing me off my usually impeccable balance.
I let out a tiny scream as I was tossed forward—right into all four of Ronan’s arms.
My face was pressed against his chest as he caught me. I gasped and couldn’t help but breathe him in. He smelled like moonlight on lily ponds. Like annoying weekend plans delightfully ruined by a much-needed rain.
He smelled delicious—and when I finally stopped smelling him and looked up into his eyes, they were bluer than ever.
“It is all right,” Ronan assured me. Holding me with three of his arms curled protectively around my back, he moved his fourth hand to my cheek, brushing my hair out of my eyes with the claws at the tips of his fingers. If my heart wasn’t pounding so hard, I might have giggled from how much it tickled. “Do not worry.”
“Worry? Aren’t we under attack?” The possibilities were still racing through my mind. Asteroids. Exploding faster-than-light engines. What would have been my greatest fear, the Rutharians, had luckily been essentially wiped out over the course of the last fifteen years by a joint effort between Lunaria and Earth, but there were other species out here. Other potential threats. “Why shouldn’t I worry?”
“Because,” Ronan said softly. The touch of his claws lingered against the hollow of my cheek. “If there was anything to worry about, I would protect you from it.”
