A Baby for the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

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A Baby for the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva) Page 11

by Miranda Martin


  "Welcome to House Ki'lar," Prince Daetoris exclaims, pride in his voice. "I am certain you will find it a vast improvement over House Do'ana."

  I scan the border wall as we reach it. It is larger, just as the cavern is larger, but it's built using a different stone, something sand colored with little flecks of sparkle. It too is pretty to the point of being garish.

  Guards' colorful outfits line the wall, patrolling back and forth along a pathway at the top.

  Doesn't seem like a smart move to make yourself such an easy target, but it doesn't look like they're that worried about being attacked.

  The large gates at the main entrance are already open, even the lights are prettier, rounded and embedded in the stone.

  When we enter, the display of wealth continues.

  The people dress in a colorful array of lightweight fabrics, from long flowing gowns, to robes and loose trousers. The marketplace is larger, with more than necessities on display. There is jewelry that sparkles, jewel toned scarves, pretty slippers that wouldn't be good for anything but sitting.

  Just the things they're selling alone would be enough to tip me off that these people have more than they need. The disparity between this, a Major House, and a Do’ana, a Minor House, is drastic.

  Coming from underground on Earth and now from Do'ana, I'm not comfortable with the opulent display of wealth. The excess is cold, for show only, there is no heart or soul in any of it.

  The people smile and nod at Prince Daetoris as he passes by, though I don't see the same love for him I see in Elorshin's people.

  I'm not surprised. These people are wealthy, used to having their way, life bending to their will with no effort required. The wealthy tend to not appreciate anything, at least in my experience.

  When we come upon the House Mansion, I stop and stare. My stomach sinks, feeling heavy, and my skin tingles as I take it in. It's made of a gorgeous stone of a tan color, and it's built with pretty spires and intricate latticework. It definitely goes with the warmer temperature here.

  Prince Daetoris helps me out of the carriage when we reach the courtyard. "The maid will take you to your chambers to bathe and change. Then you will join me for a meal. I am certain you are hungry," he says, bringing my hand up to his mouth for a kiss.

  I suppress the urge to slap him across his blue face.

  Taking my hand back, I wipe it on my skirt, trying to be discreet. No point in antagonizing him. I nod politely then follow the young maid who appears to take me away.

  No point in alienating him before I have to, I remind myself. I have no way out. My stomach is a heavy knot and black despair threatens to claim my thoughts but I push that aside. I have to be strong as Elorshin would. One day at a time until I can find a way through. Somehow, I will find my way back to him.

  "This way," the maid says, her voice soft, eyes downcast.

  She's polite, demure, leading me through brightly painted doors and into the common area of the House Mansion. The furniture is much lighter than what we have at home, with pretty carvings and cutouts, bright cushions and floor rugs giving it an almost tropical feel.

  She leads me down a hall crafted of the same light-colored stone until we come to a double door. As with everything here there are intricate carvings on the doors which shine with a high polish. Opening the door she stands to one side staring at the floor. Inside is my new bedroom. It's at least twice the size of Elorshin's.

  I'm sensing a theme here.

  There's a tub with steam rising placed in the far corner of the room on a raised dais. Tan colored velour curtains hang from the ceiling at each corner, tied back, but in place to offer some privacy.

  "Would you like my help to bathe?" the maid asks, not meeting my eyes.

  "No, thank you," I blurt.

  Having someone besides Elorshin help me bathe isn't appealing at all.

  "Very well. There is a drying cloth set out next to the tub and clothes are on the bed. If you require anything else, please ask. I will be out in the hallway." With that very polite message, she leaves the room, closing the door behind herself.

  I imagine her standing outside the door, waiting in case I need her. How strange life has become. She is the same as I would have been on Earth. A servant. Waiting hand and foot on the whims of my 'betters'. What makes them better though? An accident of birth?

  Shaking my head, I walk over to the bed to look at the clothes laid out. It's a gown of vibrant yellow cloth that is soft in the extreme. My fingers tingle as I trail them across it. It's beautifully cut and screams quality.

  There aren't any undergarments. I doubt you could wear anything on top that wouldn't show under that plunging neckline. Acid churns in my stomach looking at it. It's obvious what he wants.

  I sigh.

  Well, a bath sounds nice and clothes are just clothes.

  Those things don't matter. I have actual things to worry about that are more important.

  I strip and slide into the tub, not knowing when the maid or someone else will barge in on me. The soap and the cloth provided are of a softer variety than I've become used to. They have such a strong perfume that I make a face as I lather up.

  I'm done with my bath in record time.

  When I step out of the tub, I dry off quickly, racing to make sure I'm done before someone decides to enter. The soft cloth of the towel is luxurious and super absorbent. Once I'm dry, I pad over to the bed and slide the canary yellow gown over my head.

  It drops with a whisper, skimming over my curves and falling gracefully to the floor.

  The neckline plunges almost to my bellybutton, baring the inner curves of my breasts. There aren't any sleeves either. Elorshin’s bite is still clear on my shoulder, it hasn’t faded in the intervening months. The sight makes me want to cry with missing him.

  Biting my lip, I struggle to control the nervousness in my stomach. I don't think I've ever felt more self-conscious. At least the skirt reaches my ankles. I can't seem to ignore the fact that I have no underwear on.

  At least it isn't cold. No way would anyone be able to miss it if I feel the slightest chill in this thing.

  There is a pair of soft, woven sandals on the floor I slide my feet into. Finger combing my already drying hair, I try not to think about whether or not Daetoris picked this dress out himself. That thought is too creepy.

  The door opens, jerking my attention. The maid nods, still not meeting my eyes.

  "It is time for your meal," she says.

  I nod and follow her out of the room. There's no reason to be mean to her, she's just doing a job. As demure as she is, I would guess she's afraid.

  We pass through the common area, this time in the opposite direction.

  She takes me to a proper dining room, the large table in the center set with numerous dishes. The scents are different, and none of the dishes appear familiar to the food at House Do'Ana.

  "You look lovely," Prince Daetoris remarks, standing to greet me. His eyes trail down my form, lingering on my breasts.

  Classy, real classy, jerk.

  "Please, have a seat." He pulls out the chair next to his at the head of the table.

  "Thank you," I murmur, taking the offered seat.

  A server comes around presenting various dishes. I take a little of everything, even if I don't know what it is. The servant seems grateful and I'm glad. I don't want to be rude to him or cause problems. It isn't his fault he works for Prince Asshole.

  Staring, I move the food around on my plate, my appetite isn't strong. I have to eat, have to keep up my strength. Starving myself won't get me anywhere.

  I force food into my mouth, not tasting it.

  "How do you like your bedchamber?" he asks as he digs into his food, eating quickly but neatly. "It is next to my own."

  Great. Just what I was hoping.

  "It's nice," I say, leaving it at that.

  He continues trying to make conversation, but I don't make it easy on him, responding in the fewest words possible.
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  At last he sighs, leaning back in his ornate chair. His frustration is obvious as he locks eyes with me.

  "Margot. You are Pari, a mate. I brought you here to be mine, this is an honor. Do you know how many females would jump at this chance?"

  I look at him, not buying that line. He must see it on my face.

  His twists with anger. "House Do'ana is a Minor House. Prince Elorshin couldn't protect you. I can. You will be my Pari whether you like it or not."

  I swallow hard, nausea causing burning bile to rise in my throat. Anger mingles with disgust, and fear churns in my gut. Elorshin is ten times the man this guy could ever hope to be. I'd never have left his side if his life and the life of every person in House Do'ana wasn't at stake.

  "I am Prince Elorshin's Pari. Not yours," I hiss, turning so that Elorshin’s mark on my shoulder is in clear view.

  If he thinks I'm just going to roll over because he has pretty things to give me, he has the wrong girl.

  His eyes narrow, his brow furrows and his mouth becomes a thin, hard line. "You were his Pari. But now you will be mine. You have no say in this matter. It would be best for your own... comfort... that you accept this as fact. This is your new life."

  "No. Thank you," I smile.

  His face flushes a most interesting shade, and he bares his fangs. "You are making a mistake. I hope for your sake you soon come to your senses." He nods at someone behind me. "Your guards will guide you back to your bedchamber."

  Guide my ass. I know what he really means. I'm a prisoner. Rising from the table, two burly, serious looking guards step up to stand on either side.

  If he thinks sending me to my room like a child will make me change my mind, he's an idiot on top of being self-entitled. Instead of making a fuss I leave the room with the guards. They're polite at least, not touching me and keeping a two feet distance between us. One way or another, getting out of his company is a good idea before I antagonize him further.

  Walking through the mansion there's no mistaking the guards aren't here to ensure my safety but rather to ensure my captivity. In the bedroom I watch one of them close the door behind me followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place. It echoes in the chamber with a heavy finality.

  I search the room for a way out. I don't know how I would get back to Do’ana on my own, but staying here isn't an option. The pretty lattice work on the windows isn't just decorative. It's made of metal welded to the frame, so no way out. Outside, the marketplace is a level lower than me, but the people out there aren't going to be of any help.

  When I can't find a way out, I search for something to use as a weapon, but come up empty again. The best I can do is a long candle stick holder. Weigh it in my hand I judge its value. Not bad. It could do some damage in a pinch.

  Out of options, I sit down on the bed with nothing else to do but wait. My thoughts run in a frustrated circle. There has to be a way out of this. I rack my brain for what feels like hours, but I can't come up with any workable solution.

  The opening of the door breaks me out of the circling of my thoughts. The maid who first led me here walks in, careful to not meet my eyes.

  "Prince Daetoris has asked for you," she says.

  I nod, getting up to follow her out, but she shakes her head and instead walks inside.

  She pushes a panel in one wall and it opens.

  Oh great. There's a connecting door right into his room. Comforting, real comforting. Ugh, I hate this guy. As I follow her, an urge to scream hysterically while running away grips me, but I stamp it down viciously.

  It won't help.

  Daetoris sits in a chair next to another lattice work window. Glancing at it, I stop and look again. There's a latch! It can open. I file that information away for later.

  "Leave us," he orders.

  The maid leaves without a word. He stares at me, tapping his fingers on the armrest. It makes my skin crawl but the defiant part of me wants to clap and tell him he has the villain thing down pat. No, I'm trying to survive here until I can find a way back to Elorshin.

  He stands, his eyes scanning my body as he steps closer, until he's invading my personal space. He raises a hand to touch one of my curls, his eyes meeting mine, almost daring me to object, pushing home he can do anything he wants.

  "Have you re-thought your position?" he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper as he sets my curl back down.

  His fingers touch my breast, just for a moment. It could have been accidental, but I'm not counting on it.

  Elorshin, I need you really bad right about now, I think, reaching out through the bond I have with him.

  No answer.

  I don't feel him at the other end of the Paritella. The warmth of his presence dropped away at some point during the journey. I'm alone in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Elorshin should be just a thought away, but he's just too far to reach from here.

  I'm own my own.

  "Prince Elorshin is my mate," I say, meeting Daetoris's eyes.

  Fuck you.

  I wish I had an Alvan equivalent to that.

  His lip curls in disgust as he steps away.

  "Your precious Elorshin is from a Minor House. He did not even want to take you as his bride! The Prince of House Viir forced him to take you," he says, shaking his head while smiling a fake, sad smile.

  "Then the Major Houses don't sound very honorable," I retort. "Why would I want to belong to one?"

  His face flushes and his hands clench into fists. I can hear him grinding his teeth and wonder if I'm about to pay the price for pushing him too far.

  "Perhaps some time alone, without the luxury of food, will soften your position. Go," he barks.

  I don't wait for an engraved invitation. Stepping back through the door, I close it behind me, leaning against it and breathing heavy. Turning I search for a lock, but there isn't one.

  Great.

  I sink down on the bed, I'm exhausted both emotionally and physically, but I'm wired. There is no doubt now what Daetoris wants. He can come in whenever he wants and take it. What could I do to stop him? Scream? Who would listen, everyone here is dependent on him for their survival.

  I'm more alone than I've ever been. I wouldn't have believed I could miss the press of humanity around me back on Earth. The massive, empty spaces here have become my enemy as much as anything else.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to stuff my emotions in a box deep down where I won't feel them. Now is not the time to break down. I'm only partly successful.

  Breathing deep and trying to remain calm makes me light headed. Options, I need options.

  What if I run into the Prince's room and bonk him over the head with the candle stick? As I discard that idea there's an odd buzzing sound.

  Cocking my head to one side I frown and listen.

  What is that?

  As I stand up the bright lights go dark, only dim sieni light remaining.

  Fear freezes me in place. What does this mean? Is this some new trick? I don't wait long. Outside there are screams less than five minutes later.

  Rushing to the window, I squint, struggling to see in the dim light outside what is happening. Even with my vision having had time to adjust all I see is dim, shadowy shapes.

  What is that?

  I focus on an odd rippling I see in the marketplace, wondering if it's just a trick of the light or lack thereof.

  Then I see a figure leaping and landing on a person trying to run away, its glistening fangs bared. It sinks its teeth into the Alvan it has in its claws as other figures run past on hands and feet, hunched over, low to the ground.

  I swallow, my heart pounding. More screams echo off the fancy stone walls. The lights are out and I'm witnessing a massacre.

  Devos.

  Those must be Devos.

  The book I have describes them as mutated Alva, radiation twisting them into the monsters they've become. They hunt in swarms and light blinds them, which is why bright lights line the tunnels and border wa
lls of the Houses.

  But that sterile definition of them did not prepare me for the reality of the sinewy, monstrous creatures out there.

  Then there is a screeching roar that I haven't heard since the day I tried to run from Do'ana and a chill travels down my spine. Mooli.

  My heart leaps into my throat as the door to Daetoris' room bursts open. Whirling around, I see his grim face storming towards me. Suddenly a familiar warmth flows into my mind, along with an overwhelming sense of determination and anger.

  Elorshin.

  He's close.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elorshin

  Swinging my sword, I slice the skull off a snarling Devo as I kick another in the torso, sending it back into the masses. Fighting my way through the mobs, I run toward the House Mansion.

  Distantly, the familiar screech of a mooli sounds as the ground trembles and shakes. Glancing around it's not in my path to Margot, so I ignore it. I'll deal with it if I have to. There is enough to worry about in front of me. Devos are swarming over the walls, leading the way ahead of the other monsters of the deep Maan’alla.

  The aftermath of the loss of light is horrifying. It went against my instincts to cut off House Ki'lar from the core-well, but Prince Naefaren's retort was correct. Prince Daetoris would not hesitate for a moment to do the same to Do'ana. He also pointed out that Daetoris' people are complicit too.

  A Prince may lead a House, but if his people do not agree with his actions, they have the power to intervene.

  That there was no such resistance to stealing a Pari from her mate was enough to harden my heart.

  Still, it brings me no joy. The resulting massacre is terrible. Tonight will weigh heavy on my conscience for all my life.

  But Margot is worth it.

  Naefaren and I fight side by side, cutting a swath through the creatures and people in our path to the House Mansion. Strange times indeed that would lead to such a pairing. Or desperate ones.

  Margot hadn't reached the tunnel before I was planning her rescue.

  House Do'ana was not capable of fighting House Ki'lar and winning. It would be certain death.

 

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