Trapped by the Alien: A Scifi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Titan Empire Book 5)

by Tammy Walsh

  I rounded the room. Outside, I was calm and serene. Inside, I was frantic.

  I performed a complete turn about the room and came to a stop.

  She wasn’t there.

  No… There had to be some mistake.

  Then it occurred to me. As I was moving around the room, she would be moving too. We could be moving in perfect synchronicity.

  I cut across the middle of the room, checked the two corners I was now ignoring and surmised she must be ahead of me, in the fourth corner.

  I approached it, keeping a close eye on either side of my peripheries to ensure I didn’t miss her again.

  I reached the corner.

  She wasn’t there.

  I’d felt so certain, so sure it had been her. Was I mistaken? If I was, where was the woman who only looked like her?

  Or had I imagined the whole thing?

  I replayed the moment through my mind. It did nothing but confirm my certainty it was her.

  I was sure of it.

  Then another explanation shimmied up to the surface of my consciousness.

  My elder brother died two weeks ago. Maybe it was reminding me of my previous brush with death.

  When I lost her.

  Maybe I was under too much stress. Maybe I’d imagined her.

  The hair still stuck up on my arms, my senses telling me what I saw had been real.

  I slumped in a chair back in the anteroom and ran my hands through my hair. I needed to keep it together. I needed to be strong for Titans everywhere. They were looking to me for leadership.

  I shouldn’t be in this situation. I should be helping support, not lead.

  The death of my elder brother, Qale, was bound to affect me. I’d tried hard to suppress it until after this whole situation had been taken care of. He’d left to marshal our army and meet the Changelings on the battlefield. He left me in charge of the castle. I watched as his space shuttle took off and was swatted from the air by a missile.

  The force knocked me off my feet. The shards rained on North Wood, setting the birds to caw and take flight. Even then, I couldn’t believe he was dead. He was my elder brother. He took after our father.

  To my eyes he was indestructible.

  “Get me over there!” Zes had bellowed. “Now!”

  I tried to climb aboard the space shuttle with him to search for my brother but he held me back.

  “You’re the lord now,” he said. “Someone in House Taw must be here always.”

  I watched as the space shuttle took off and descended on the first ship’s remains.

  When he came back, it was with a handful of charred bodies. I couldn’t identify any of them as my brother. I didn’t want to admit he was dead, that I was now without a brother, a mother, a father, or a wife.

  Titans weren’t supposed to be afraid of death. And I wasn’t. At least, not for myself. I was afraid for those who died and left me behind.

  I was always the one left behind.

  My shoulders sagged as I realized the truth.

  My wife wasn’t at the party. Just as Qale wasn’t alive somewhere. It was nothing more than a sick joke my mind played to remind me of what I’d lost.

  Imagining my wife running around wasn’t going to help me. I needed to focus on my meeting with the Changelings. I couldn’t let something like this distract me.

  Not when I had so many Titan lives in my hands.

  I blocked off my emotions and slid my mask back on over my face. I was Lord Taw. I was out for myself, for power, for glory. I had money and I didn’t want to lose it. No matter the cost.

  It was who I was now. On the surface, at least.

  A door opened at the front of the room and a Changeling stepped out.

  “S’lec-Quos will see you now,” it said.

  I followed the Changeling down the endless hallways. It still surprised me to see them adopting their natural form. They could mimic a Titan to perfection, making it difficult even for their closest friends and family to recognize the difference. But there were certain tells if you knew where to look.

  But there was something interesting about Changelings that I’d recently learned. The further up the social rankings they were, the less likely they were to adopt a shape different from their natural one. No pretending, no hiding. Not unless it suited their own interest, of course.

  The servant leading me adopted his original shape. He wore the same hard gray-brown outer shell of his insect-like species, with scales that could easily shift and slide into place. He had eight unblinking black eyes. His legs were long and stick thin. He stood head and shoulders above a Titan.

  He wore a translator strip across his throat. It was the only way to understand other alien species unless you were willing to spend years studying their language.

  The Changeling servant shoved a pair of doors and held them open for me to step through. It was the throne room. A series of pillars ran down either side of me as I marched toward the throne. On each of them, as I had studied as a kid when I played with the young prince down these very halls, I had learned the name and location of each of the major mining facilities throughout the galaxy.

  It’d seemed like a place of hope. Instead, it served as a noose around our necks.

  The Changeling servant turned on the spot and motioned for me to stop. I stood at the foot of the steps that rose to the throne. Lounging in it was our illustrious new leader. S’lec-Quos.

  I immediately dropped to my knee and lowered my eyes.

  “House Taw serves at your will,” I said.

  “Stand, stand,” S’lec-Quos said, waving a stunted leg at me.

  A helper on either side of the throne helped S’lec-Quos get to his feet. He accepted their help and then drew his legs back as if to strike them the moment he was on his feet. He made a chittering sound that had a distinctively irritated quality to it.

  “Kal Taw,” S’lec-Quos said, embracing me firmly with his long spindly arms.

  “Your Grace honors me,” I said.

  When we pulled back, I was startled to find he had morphed into me. I might have been looking into a mirror. The sight of him wearing my ancestors’ costume made me feel sick to my stomach, but I forced a broad smile on my face.

  “My costume looks so much better on you than it does on me, your Grace,” I said.

  S’lec-Quos chuckled and turned to his helpers, who chuckled along with him.

  “I like wearing Titan flesh,” he said. “It makes me feel strong and powerful.”

  He puffed out his chest to make himself look larger.

  Although he looked and sounded like me, his demeanor was unnatural. Anyone who knew me would pick up on it. Then there were the usual telltale signs like the ridges of skin around his limbs. When a Changeling adopted an alien form, they replicated their enemy in sections, which left ridges of skin across their bodies. The most noticeable were those around their wrists.

  S’lec-Quos morphed back into his Changeling skin.

  “We appreciate the decision you made during the battle,” he said. “Titans are awesome warriors but no use when it comes to modern warfare. You had no serious chance of stopping us.”

  “No chance,” one of the helpers echoed.

  “It was a most prudent decision on your part,” S’lec-Quos said.

  “Most prudent,” the other helper said, nodding his head.

  When the Changelings made their final assault on Oran-glei, our homeworld, they took out the most powerful lords first, so we would be headless and without good leadership. Old rivalries came to the fore and as they fought for who deserved the lordship titles, their armies burned.

  Those who succeeded were forced to make decisions they never thought they would have to make. Everyone turned to the emperor for leadership, but the Changelings had taken care of him first. Then the mantel passed to the most senior lord.

  Me.

  They waited expectantly to see what I would do next. If the greatest Titan lord refused to fight, none would. I had t
o see through the bubbling anger in my veins to think clearly.

  What was best for the people? I thought.

  If I lit the beacon, it would call every Titan into war. They would run into battle, to their death, and accept it without hesitation. But the Changelings were too powerful, their ships too many. To send countless Titans into war across multiple worlds to die for nothing but the sake of honor…

  I couldn’t do it.

  I refused to light the beacon.

  Death had already claimed too many. I wouldn’t add to the pyre.

  “We were sorry to hear about your brother,” S’lec-Quos said.

  The anger rose in me like a wave. Sorry? These creatures were the ones responsible for his death!

  “Thank you for your kind words,” I said calmly.

  “He was a famous warrior,” S’lec-Quos said. “At least, that’s what our reports tell us. He was responsible for countless innocent Changeling lives.”

  Innocently murdering defenseless Titans.

  The silence stretched. What was he expecting me to say?

  I grinned at him as a way to hide my gnashing teeth.

  “My brother was always the most aggressive,” I said. “He always loved a good scrap. He could never turn down a fight. Growing up, I was the one to suffer his temper tantrums.”

  It was all a lie. Qale was the kindest, sweetest elder brother anyone could hope for. But this was what the Changelings wanted to hear. So, I gave it to them.

  “Yes, yes,” S’lec-Quos said. “This is true in most inferior alien species we come across. The elder brother is often the dangerous one. The younger brother is the calm, responsible one. More reserved and thoughtful in their approach to life.”

  He wouldn’t say that if he saw how much thought Qale put into his battle plans. I doubted there was a Titan alive who had a better mind for war.

  “As the more thoughtful brother, I know I can rely on you to swear your allegiance to me,” S’lec-Quos said. “If you are kind to us, we will be kind to you. It will be a mutually satisfactory relationship.”

  A mutually profitable relationship was what he meant.

  “Of course,” I said, bowing. “Your wish is my command.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.” S’lec-Quos grinned—at least, I thought it was a grin—and turned to his helper.

  The helper approached a shelf and withdrew a highly polished box. S’lec-Quos opened the box and came out with a set of rings inlaid with the royal seal. It made me feel sick to my stomach to see it in their hands.

  My heart was in my throat as S’lec-Quos assumed the guise of the emperor. Tall and powerful, he was what every Titan attempted to be.

  Strong. Honorable. Just.

  And he had been stripped from us. Dead? Alive? No one knew. Now we were left with this shadow creature.

  S’lec-Quos slipped on the rings. There were five shimmering jewels, one for each of our primary mining facilities. He flexed his fingers and formed a fist.

  “Now,” he said. “I believe you Titans have an unbreakable pledge you make to your emperor when he demands it. Break it and you will be dishonored forever.”

  He held his fist in front of me. The jewels sparkled and caught the light.

  “Make your pledge to me, your new and rightful emperor,” he said.

  It took a moment for me to take a knee. My throat was dry. My words came out horse and croaky.

  I bit down on the anger and betrayal I was about to commit against my fellow Titans. I shut my eyes and prayed they would forgive me.

  I recalled the words, the words that every Titan memorized from the first day they could speak.

  “A Titan is sworn to honor,” I said. “His heart knows only kindness. His blade defends the weak. His might upholds the helpless. His word speaks only truth. His wrath destroys the wicked.”

  I kissed the ring and once the final word dripped from my traitorous lips, S’lec-Quos patted me on the head. Like a good little pet.

  “Very nice,” S’lec-Quos said. “Now you may go. And if ever I call upon your aid, I trust you will respond quickly.”

  I got to my feet and bowed. I turned and left the hall and I couldn’t help but shut my eyes.

  What have I done?

  I sat halfway down a long sleek dining table carved from a single piece of obsidian. Set within the emperor’s palace it looked sublime. Across from me sat my guest, Zes. On my left, Lord Flex, on my right, Lady Lors.

  Outwardly, I smiled with great pride. Inside, I was dying. I had brought enough dishonor to my family name already. Did I need to add to it?

  As I glanced along the table at the other lords and ladies, I knew every single one of them must have done the same. And yet, they appeared to have no issue with having done it. They had betrayed their people. Some even appeared relieved.

  Or maybe they were only better at hiding their discomfort than me. Somehow, I doubted it.

  The Titans turned toward the head of the table and immediately got to their feet.

  S’lec-Quos drifted in with his helpers on either side. He stood at the emperor’s chair and sat down. The Titan lords and ladies remained standing.

  A long, uncomfortable moment passed.

  Then, with a sly grin, S’lec-Quos waved a leg for us to sit.

  To think we had signed over every square inch of our colonies to them…

  Now, more than ever, the message came loud and clear. We had been well and truly conquered. There would be no more uprisings, no more rebellions.

  Not without one of us dragging his house’s honor through the dirt.

  The Changelings had used our strength against us.

  The future looked bleak. It looked very bleak indeed.

  S’lec-Quos picked up a champagne glass and raised it. He gave me a nod. I nodded back amiably.

  “To a new beginning,” he said. “May this be the first peaceful day of many.”

  An overweight lady with a costume at least three sizes too small hesitated before drinking the champagne. She should have known better. The Changelings had already gotten what they wanted from us. There would be no sense in poisoning us now.

  The side doors opened and an army of Titan servants placed the first dish of the dinner before us. A Methusida steak—a delicacy to we Titans.

  And another slap in the face.

  It was the meal served after a battle was over. The two clans would come together to break bread and resolve their differences. By eating it, we were accepting our defeat and their victory. It was a part of our culture and heritage.

  Culture and heritage that would slowly fade with time and be replaced with Changeling traditions.

  It was a hell of a time to be alive.

  The guests whispered quiet conversation among themselves. Nobody had much to say to me. I had even less to say to them. The most interesting thing was Zes across the table from me.

  He belched, making a perfunctory effort to contain it with a hand over his mouth.

  “Excuse me!” he said.

  Nobody excused him. They glared at him. He didn’t take any notice. He continued to feast quite happily.

  I shook my head. How good it must be to act as freely as you wanted without fear of reprisals.

  I took a sip from my glass and ran my eye across the long line of lords and ladies who had betrayed their own people.

  There, Traes, owner of the largest single mining operation in the empire. And there, Lady Lanos, the richest landowner. And there—

  My wineglass froze, perched to my lips.

  A moment of hesitation, but if anyone had been watching, they would have seen it.

  I slipped my mask back on carefully and dragged my eyes away from that section of the table and set to eating the meal that suddenly tasted like ash in my mouth.

  Every few minutes, I allowed myself a glance down the far end of the table. Waiting that long was hard enough. Being unable to stare openly was almost painful.

  A small group of alien creatures
sat eating their meals. It didn’t have the same meaning to them because they were not Titans. I couldn’t even name some of the species.

  But they were all invisible to me.

  I had eyes only for her.

  For the most beautiful creature in the galaxy.

  My wife.

  She perched on the edge of her chair delicately. She had to because she was smaller than the average Titan. She was dainty and feminine with long limbs and a heart-shaped face.

  She cut a small piece of the meat and slipped it in her mouth.

  I was imagining things again. In a moment, someone would sit in what had to be an empty chair.

  Except, when she spoke to the alien creature beside her, the alien spoke back.

  She wasn’t an apparition at all.

  She was real.

  I distracted myself with another taste of my meal before peering at her again. I appraised her and began to notice small differences to the face I’d memorized from years of careful study.

  Her silhouette was not quite the same. Her nose was a little longer, her chin smoother and less square. Her skin still shone with the same vibrancy. She wasn’t my wife but she looked very much like her.

  I felt a little relieved. I wasn’t losing my mind. I hadn’t imagined her.

  She was real.

  And the next time I glanced her way, she glanced in mine.

  Our eyes locked for just a fraction of a second.

  I could have sworn I felt a solid click.

  And I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  At the end of the meal, the side doors were opened and we were encouraged to head toward the ballroom where we’d be entertained by a variety of performances.

  “That was delicious,” Zes said, rubbing his bulging belly with both hands.

  “Yeah,” I said, my eyes darting from one pair of guests to another. Where had she gone?

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Zes said. He yawned so broadly it used up his whole body. “We should hit the hay.”

  “You go on up,” I said. “I might stay up a little while.”

  “If you stay, I stay,” Zes said.

  “No, really. Go up. I’ll go to bed soon.”

  “I cannot forsake my sworn duty,” Zes said.