Forbidden Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

by Miranda Martin

  Growling, I take a step toward him. I have to finish this quickly.

  Rathorin laughs and I pause at his strange reaction.

  I shouldn't have.

  He grins, his mouth bloodied from where it knocked against the ground when I shoved him.

  "You will not get what you want," he taunts.

  Looking over at his forces, he raises his clenched fist, bloody knife in hand.

  "Attack!" he bellows.

  I sense Clara's shock even as my blood runs cold. I don't know why I'm surprised at Rathorin deciding on such a dishonorable act. He has proven over and over again that he does not care about what is just and right. But this is a new low point.

  This is an action he won't be able to deny later. An action that too many see. Even his own people are witness. The aftermath will come later. Now, we must fight.

  The ground trembles under the many feet that running, swords and knives raised, faces intent. My first thought is not of Elorshin's people, or even of my people in House Lo'ara.

  My first thought is of Clara, too far away for me to reach before the enemy closes the distance.

  But there is a way to end this.

  I turn back to Rathorin as the sounds of swords clashing and people dying echo around.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Clara

  "Attack!" Rathorin yells.

  Shit.

  This reminds me of when a spoiled toddler breaks some kid's toy because he can't have it. Sounds like Rathorin's maturity level.

  I hop off the carriage with my staff in tow. I'm getting better with the sword and I have one buckled around my waist, but I want to stick with what I'm comfortable with. Plus, the staff helps make up for the reach difference I'm always encountering. Adjusting to being short is a trip. I've always been in the tall category my whole life. As my feet hit the ground, the sound of smashing glass chimes and know Elorshin's people have taken the cue they've been on standby for.

  An all out battle between us and House Ti'ana.

  If all had gone according to plan, Drevakin would have killed Rathorin in the one-on-one fight and avoided a full on battle. But shit has well and truly hit the fan. Elorshin told us about the plan Naefaren came up with when they went to rescue a kidnapped Margot. Smashing the lights in the tunnel and allowing the monsters into the cavern to help turn the tide in our favor seems monstrous, but I'm also a practical person. The alternative is letting House Ti'ana kill House Lo'ara to send a message and assuage an asshole's pride. We are all willing to accept the lesser of two evils.

  As I prepare for the onslaught, people hustle behind the border walls of House Lo'ara. I know even with their addition to our forces, Rathorin significantly outnumbers us.

  The archers on the top of the border wall are already setting their arrows loose, though they have to aim farther back to avoid hitting our own people.

  The first House Ti’ana guard reaches me and over swings with a double hand grip on his heavy sword. I dodge as I smash my staff into his face and then sweep it under his legs to bring him down to the ground. He's out cold before he even hits.

  I try to keep an eye on Drevakin and Rathorin and the tunnel as fighter after fighter reaches me. Rathorin's order to attack distracted Drevakin just long enough to allow the asshole to get to his feet. Before that, Drevakin had him. Which was why the little coward called for help.

  I look away again, the fighting going on in front of me needing my attention. Training with Drevakin helped. None of the fighters that reach me are anywhere near his level, though it's difficult enough for me anyway because of the reach and weight advantage the Alvan have. But I'm used to Drevakin's quick and strategic fighting style. They’re almost slow and clumsy after fighting with him.

  From the corner of my eye, I glimpse the people who smashed the tunnel lights running around the bulk of the battle to bypass Rathorin's people and reach us.

  When I look over at the tunnel's gaping mouth, the darkness is foreboding in a way it has never been for me before. I was never the kid afraid of the dark. But I guess I'm now the adult who is. The thought of the devos that Drevakin and I escaped before sends chills down my spine.

  I land a swift kick to my attacker's balls, thankful that I'm wearing trousers. Not rocking the social norm boat is not worth tangling up my legs at an inopportune time and being run through. No, if I have to fight, I refuse to make things even harder for myself with yards of fabric.

  I pull out my knife and stab the guy in the chest, blocking his attempt to run me through with his bigger knife. He looks stunned at the hilt sticking out from his chest, meeting my eyes as he drops to the ground. I swallow bile as I try not to dwell, moving on to the next guy. There will be plenty of time to over think and regret this later. There are too many people depending on me right now.

  If I'm lucky.

  A scream echoes off stone walls and I look toward the tunnel again, my heart skipping a beat. They look like a shadowy mass as they stream into the cavern, packed in close enough it’s difficult to discern each individual shape.

  Devos.

  Another scream as someone else notices.

  As planned, the devos attack the fringes of the group closest to them. Rathorin's people.

  Our forces pull back farther into the light shining from the border walls, the halo of safety is a flimsy one in the face of the swarming mass. The large gates in the border wall open in that moment. Reinforcements run out from inside the House, fresh people spreading out to help shore up our defenses. And not a second too soon.

  While all of this is going on, I punch, kick, bludgeon, and stab my way through the people now attempting to cross into the light, away from the devos.

  I glance over at Drevakin just as he swings his sword in a fatal arc, the light from the border wall glistening off the bright red blood splashed across it. Rathorin is on his knees in front of Drevakin, the sword cut right through his neck.

  I'm almost numb to the violence, my brain's defense against everything I'm witnessing. I watch blankly as Drevakin grabs Rathorin's decapitated head by the hair and raises it up high. Rathorin's headless body topples over to the ground.

  I swallow dryly, overwhelmed by everything.

  "Your Prince is dead!" Drevakin bellows over the battlefield, Rathorin's bloody head held aloft so everyone can see. "Surrender or die!"

  I look out and notice a significant number of Rathorin's men are already down. The swarm of devos have cut a large swath through the edge of the their forces closest to the tunnel entrance and farthest from the flood lights shining from the border wall.

  Many of House Ti'ana's men are already fighting to get through to the safety of the light. All of them don't make it.

  Side by side with Elorshin's men and Drevakin's, I fight back those that aren't willing to surrender, pushing them back out of the light and into the melee as our own people stay back from the edge of the darkness.

  It doesn't take long before much of what's left of Rathorin's army throws down their weapons and hold up their hands to pass through to the light. The rest don't last long.

  Soon, only the devos are alive in the nightmarish dark. The archers shoot into the swarm, each arrow finding a mark in the sea of monsters only yards away. One of them raises its bloody head to look at me, meeting my eyes with its milky ones. It bares its elongated fangs and hisses, blood dripping from its gore smeared face. An arrow fired from above lodges in its eye and then it's gone, joining all the others on the ground.

  This is a victory, but a grim one.

  Drevakin finds me in the crowd. I swallow as he pulls me into a tight hug, his emotions as dark as my own as we stand against the border wall, the sounds of arrows piercing flesh and the resulting screeches and growls echoing in the cavern.

  As I try to block out the sounds, I wonder about the future. What now? What did we fight so hard for?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Drevakin

  The battle at House Lo'ara is over.

>   Elorshin has requested Prince Naefaren Viir meet with us now, right after driving the devos away. The repairs for the tunnel lights have already begun as a major priority.

  We take only a few minutes to clean up, bandage wounds, and change before taking the carriages over to House Viir. Bruised, beaten, and wounded from the fight, exhaustion is a not so thin veil.

  Arriving at House Viir is a shock after the events of the last few hours. Brightly lit with clean and well fed people. Warm. The nightmare we just went through clashes with the experience of the Major House. It is as if we step into a different world altogether.

  Naefaren is waiting for us in his courtyard when we arrive, greeting Elorshin with a hearty slap on the back but giving me a more reserved nod as his sharp gaze takes in my appearance and then Clara's. He does not hesitate to invite us inside, taking us to straight his study. And he does not mince words.

  "I hear Rathorin is dead," he says, his eyes on my face.

  I hesitate, but then nod. It's not like we can keep it secret.

  "Good," Naefaren declares, leaning forward. "That male was dangerous, not only to his own House, but to the rest of us." He shakes his head. "Many of the Major House Princes seem to forget we are not all powerful. Push too far and they will rise up." He looks at Elorshin as if remembering his transgression.

  "You will not hear me argue to the contrary," Elorshin responds. "But we are here not to discuss generalities, but rather specifics. What do we do with House Ti'ana? Rathorin was much too jealous a ruler to have a competent Second, not that I would trust a Second that Rathorin appointed."

  Naefaren nods, looking over at me. "Do you enjoy leading, Drevakin?" he asks, his expression somewhat odd.

  I frown at the inconsequential question. "I find it a fulfilling, challenging role," I reply. "Enjoy is an odd description."

  Naefaren's smile is almost gleeful, tinged with an edge of something wicked. "Do you vouch for Drevakin, Elorshin?" he asks, his voice almost idle.

  "I do," Elorshin agrees, his voice thoughtful, as if he knows what Naefaren is asking.

  "Excellent. Drevakin, how would you like to be Prince Drevakin Ti'ana?"

  I stare at Naefaren, surprised by the question. "I killed their previous Prince," I reply.

  "He won't be missed," Naefaren replies.

  "I took part in killing many of House Ti'ana."

  Naefaren shrugs. "I would lay that blame on Rathorin and his ridiculous orders. See point one." Naefaren stands, staring down at me for a moment before looking over at Clara. "What do you say? Do you believe he should take the position?"

  I look over at Clara, but I know what she will say before she says it.

  "Yes. House Lo'ara has a competent Second and House Ti'ana is in need of some...straightening up." She looks over at me with a smile. "I can't think of anyone better to clean the place out." She covers my hand with hers.

  "That settles it then."

  I stand as Naefaren offers his hand, clasping forearms.

  "We will have a coronation. Do not worry." His grin is a little evil. "House Ti'ana will learn to love you.”

  “I believe we should reconsider this trade agreement. It would be lucrative for both the Minor House and ourselves."

  I look at the middle-aged male sitting across the desk in Rathorin's study. Now my study, though it will take some time to come to terms with the fact I am now the Prince of House Ti'ana.

  A Major House.

  I need to focus on the task at hand. The male looks confident enough, meeting my eyes straight on. I notice a slight tremor in his hand as he moves it to the chair's armrest. Clara's voice enters my thoughts.

  This is the guy Rathorin threatened because he was bringing up something about a trade agreement.

  Interesting, I reply through our bond.

  I say nothing as I look down at the agreement he is speaking about, skimming through the terms.

  He is correct about this being lucrative. Though perhaps House Ti'ana could get an even better deal if they expanded times open to trade. How quick can I make changes and not have a revolt on my hands?

  I can almost hear Clara’s mind working from behind me where she stands braced against the wall. The other male's eyes flicker to her nervously. He is most likely wondering why she is even in the meeting. Or perhaps he is wondering why she is wearing trousers.

  It seems as though my Pari much prefers the mobility she has with trousers, taking to only wearing dresses for certain occasions. My mind flashes back to the beautiful blue dress she wore for my coronation. It covered her from neck to ankle, but it hugged all of her curves so my hands itched to touch all of her.

  In fact, after the ceremony…

  Stop it. How am I supposed to concentrate when you're thinking about that?

  Clara’s voice is clear through our bond.

  Will you wear that dress for me tonight?

  I know only I can hear her laughter.

  Fine. And as for your other question, you should move fast now, before they can rally themselves together and decide whether they want to accept you. It is much more difficult to stop something already in motion. Plus, if you do enough, they won't have any one thing to focus on. Oh, and they'll see the benefits of the changes sooner if you implement them faster.

  Hmm.

  Interesting strategy.

  "I think you may be correct, though I would make changes before agreeing." I've surprised the male, though he tries to hide it. "Perhaps I can draw up a proposal and we can have another meeting tomorrow?"

  He nods, smiling. "Yes. My Prince."

  He stands as I do, bowing respectfully before he leaves the room.

  Adjusting to leading a different House is difficult. Add because it is a Major House, and I killed the previous Prince... I have my hands full. So far, I have already changed how House Ti'ana trades and who we trade with, I've set out new rules about harassing or intimidating those from Minor Houses, and I have appointed Clara as Head Guard.

  That last change caused more issues than I expected. The people did not take a female seriously as the Head Guard at first. They also judged Clara based on her choice to wear trousers. But they have since learned that she is not someone to cross. There was an incident where someone attacked a female from a Minor House.

  After Clara chased him through the marketplace and beat him down with her staff, he was captured swiftly and punished despite the large discrepancy in their sizes. Ever since that public arrest, I've noticed the extra respect she is being given. I approve.

  "I've noticed a few of the more daring young women wearing trousers," I comment as Clara wraps her arms around my waist from behind.

  "Hmm. Good for them. If some of you males tried to get things done in a skirt for just a day, you would weep."

  I chuckle as I turn around to wrap her in my arms.

  "I must admit, I like how your backside appears in trousers," I say, reaching down to cup the lush curves.

  Hmm.

  "Likewise," she murmurs, reaching down to squeeze my backside.

  I grin, enjoying everything about the moment. I am now in a position I never even dreamed of being in. My Pari is safe and I can change the culture of a Major House from the top. The possibilities are endless.

  I am glad I agreed to take this position. At first, I thought the people of House Ti'ana might never respect me. After all, they are all too accustomed to looking down on those of us from Minor Houses. And it was difficult in the beginning.

  "But they are coming around now," Clara murmurs, following my line of thought even though I didn’t actively project it.

  I wonder if the Paritella is growing stronger?

  "Perhaps," I admit.

  "They particularly like the free trade with the Minor Houses. Wait, let me be more specific, they like the wealth you are helping them accumulate," she adds cynically, grinning widely.

  "Perhaps you are right. And if wealth is all it takes, I count myself lucky," I say, chuckling.

&nbs
p; "Lucky, hmm? Perhaps I can help you get even more lucky," she says suggestively.

  "Oh?" I say hopefully, my cock stirring in interest. "How so?"

  "I found out who was stealing the juntta," she says with a straight face.

  "Oh," I say, disappointed. "Well done." Not where I thought this was going.

  I do not have to worry about security and the guards at all with Clara in charge, leaving me free to work on the aspects I excel in.

  You are my right hand.

  Her face softens as she leans against me. "That is really sweet. Now I feel somewhat bad for teasing you," she admits, reaching down to take a firm hold of my cock.

  "Oh. Well."

  My dick harden immediately and I clear my throat. "Perhaps the bedchamber is in order?" I suggest.

  She laughs, letting go of my cock and taking my hand instead to lead me out of the study and to our bedchamber.

  My eyes automatically lock on her backside, clad in the thin, loose trousers she has helped the tailor fashion for her, saying they are much more practical for this heat.

  I cannot help notice they also show off her figure quite nicely.

  Yes.

  Accepting this position was an excellent idea indeed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Clara

  "Everything looks good. I’m going to go back to the House Mansion," I say.

  "Yes, of course. Allow me to accompany you," the guard says.

  Before the guard can take a step toward the stairs leading down from the border wall, I stop him with a hand on his chest.

  "Thank you. But I can make it there alone," I say wryly.

  "But-"

  "Really," I interrupt, patting his chest as I walk past down the stairs.

  I do take extra care, though.

  I'm barely showing, but everyone knows I’m pregnant because there was just no way to keep Drevakin's sudden, incandescent joy under wraps. Smiling to myself, I remember his complete and utter shock and joy when I told him the news. And then the immediate announcement he made to the entire House, followed by an order for everyone to watch out for me. Men are silly.