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

by Miranda Martin

  But I knew if I could enlist Prince Naefaren and House Viir, my chances of succeeding increased dramatically.

  I wasn't sure what to expect, but Prince Naefaren met with me as soon as I arrived, his face tight with anger.

  The news of Margot's kidnapping had already spread.

  "Attacking an ally of House Viir is not acceptable. We will aid you in this endeavor," he said, his smile chilling.

  Our people were ready in a few hours time and we began the journey to House Ki'lar.

  But not before Naefaren sent someone to cut House Ki'lar's connection to the core-well, timing it to happen on our arrival.

  "Why play with an even deck?" Naefaren had grinned, baring his fangs.

  The moment the lights went out, the monsters overran House Ki'lar's Rakennus. A testament to the tenuousness of our existence. One mistake, one problem with the lights, and the monsters overrun us.

  The cries and grunts of battle surround me as the people of House Viir and House Do'ana fight both the people of House Ki'lar and the Devos we unleashed upon them.

  My arms burn with the effort of butchering creature after creature, Alvan after Alvan, my focus singular.

  I must reach Margot.

  I grunt as a heavy weight slams upon my back, but it slides off again and I turn to see Naefaren holding a Devo head.

  He looks at me as he tosses it aside. "Keep moving."

  I nod agreement and do just that, stabbing a heavyset Alvan in robes as he attempts to tackle me, crossing swords with another who has more style than skill and running him through. I throw my knife at a Devo as it races at me, jaws unhinged and open so wide I see the back of its throat.

  Nothing will stop me.

  Prince Naefaren fights alongside, his arm untiring beside mine.

  I grab an Alvan by the throat as he attempts to sneak up behind Naefaren, ripping a hole in his stomach before letting him slide to the ground.

  Naefaren gives me a nod of appreciation.

  And then we continue through the nightmare, the sound of death ringing in our ears.

  We reach the courtyard in front of the House Mansion, chaos reigns as people run for cover and guards attempt to create a semblance of organized defense. It is apparent the people here have grown soft, thinking themselves invulnerable.

  One guard attempts to stop us, but he is easy prey, the sound of a blood curdling scream distracts him long enough that Naefaren runs him through with his already gore painted blade.

  Then we are inside the House where it is almost silent except for the screams and sounds of fighting trickling in from outside.

  "This way," Naefaren says, leading us down a hall. "The residential wing is most likely in this direction."

  I take him at his word, keeping an eye behind us as I follow.

  It is easy to single out the room we are looking for.

  I can feel Margot's gentle warmth inside.

  And there are two large guards stationed in front of the door. They move out into the hall in front of us as they see us coming.

  Prince Naefaren grins at them, a macabre expression with the blood splattered across his face.

  I wait, rotating my sword wrist as I adjust my grip on my knife.

  They make the mistake of charging us, most likely itching for a fight. Stationed here, so far away from the chaos outside.

  I duck under one guard's heavy swing, knowing his larger frame will give him an advantage if we lock swords.

  Dodging in, I slice a clean line down the back of his thigh.

  He snarls as he turns, swinging a big, meaty fist at me.

  Ducking, a glancing blow hits my shoulder, and it goes numb.

  Right.

  Best not to let the brute land another.

  I work around him, shallow slices and cuts letting him tire himself until I have my opening. Ducking another swing I smash him in the temple with the pommel of my sword.

  He drops to the ground.

  I look over to see the other guard slide lifeless to the ground in front of Naefaren. We both turn to look down the hall as we hear the groan and squeal of metal. A hunched over figure appears at the end of the hall, milky white eyes glittering in the low light.

  "Go. I have this," Naefaren says, walking down the hall toward the figure.

  I hesitate.

  "Go!" he barks, running toward the Devo as it darts forward.

  Turning, trusting Naefaren can handle what comes his way, I twist the key already in the lock and open the door, stepping inside.

  "Ah, Elorshin. I was wondering when you would arrive."

  I shut the door behind me, my eyes going to the knife at Margot's throat.

  Daetoris will die.

  The thought is clear and I know it to be true.

  I will make it so.

  Of course you will.

  I look up to meet Margot's eyes, the humor twinkling in them even as I feel her fighting off panic as Daetoris holds her in front of him like a shield.

  "Brave and honorable," I remark, not moving any closer, my eyes on the knife. "Hiding behind a female."

  "I am a practical male," he sneers. "In fact, I am so practical I will bargain with you for your Pari."

  "Bargain?" I ask, my thumb caressing my sword as I consider the satisfaction of running the poor excuse for a male through will give me. "You have nowhere to go."

  "Be that as it may, I still have the thing you came for," he counters.

  I meet his eyes as he leans down and drags his vile tongue along Margot’s cheek. She grimaces in disgust but doesn't move, the knife too close.

  "I have the power to make this victory a bitter one," he leers.

  "What do you want?" I demand, my mind racing, desperate to get Margot out of his reach.

  He chuckles.

  "Well, my freedom, of course. My life." His face hardens, his eyes cold. "But if I cannot have that, I will have vengeance here and now. Choose."

  Margot and I lock eyes.

  She winces.

  I suck in a breath as I glance down and see a drop of blood sliding down her slender neck.

  Ready?

  I jerk my eyes up to Margot's as her voice sounds loud and clear in my mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Margot

  The disturbing sounds from outside seep in through the window.

  They are still distant while the House itself is eerily quiet.

  Daetoris ignores me, looking out the window, his face furious, but it's also tinged with a real fear.

  I don't know what he's planning on doing, but things don't look good for him. He's desperate, and that makes him more dangerous.

  I back away until I bump into the table. Reaching behind me I take hold of the heavy candle holder I found earlier, keeping it low against the folds of my skirt and wishing I had on one of the heavier dresses I've become accustomed to.

  Then we hear something in the hall outside the door.

  Daetoris is on me before I can blink, dragging me against his front, one arm around my waist and the other around my upper chest.

  I feel the cool kiss of metal against my throat for a moment before he adjusts the distance of the knife he's holding so it doesn't touch my skin.

  "I would advise you not to move," he says, his voice calm, but his heart pounds against my back.

  Copy that.

  My heart is racing too as we both listen to the grunts and thumps of flesh against flesh outside, the clang of metal on metal.

  It doesn't last long.

  I know with utter certainty that Elorshin is out there, his presence clear in my mind and heart.

  The door bursts open and his eyes take in the scene.

  He's breathing hard, his clothing ripped and bloody in places, something splattered across his face. I'm sure it's blood, though it's difficult to tell in the dim light.

  I hope it's not his.

  His jaw tightens as he closes the door behind himself, a sword in one hand and a wicked looking knife in the othe
r. I can feel the panic he suppresses at the sight of the knife so close to my neck.

  While Daetoris is talking to Elorshin, trying to buy time for himself, I take in my options.

  There aren't many.

  But one thing I have going for me is that Daetoris doesn't see me as a threat at all.

  It's kind of insulting.

  I haven't lived the most cushy life in the world, and a girl has to know how to protect herself.

  Daetoris pricks me deliberately and I feel a warm drop of blood slide down my neck. But he pulls the knife away from my throat after that warning. I need to move now.

  Ready? I project the thought.

  Elorshin's eyes meet mine and I can see he's surprised, though nothing shows on his face.

  Be careful.

  His trepidation and concern are clear even in his mental voice, but he doesn't stop me from doing what I will do.

  I'm too close for the candle holder to be an effective weapon, but it can be a distraction.

  Taking careful aim, I drop the heavy thing on Prince Asshole's foot.

  He grunts, his grip loosening in reaction.

  Reaching up, I yank his arm away and let myself go limp. As any two-year-old will tell you, trying to hold on to a limp body is almost impossible.

  And I weigh a lot more than a two-year-old.

  He says some not so nice things as he tries to keep a hold of me. But he quickly abandons that lost cause when Elorshin slams into him, pushing me away with one hand.

  I stumble into the bed then turn around just as I hear Elorshin grunt. I feel a quick slice of pain and know Daetoris must have landed a blow.

  Elorshin moves back and there's a slice along his side from Daetoris's knife.

  Daetoris takes the space to pull out his sword.

  "I will enjoy sinking my blade into you and seeing the light bleed from your eyes as your Pari watches," he taunts in a low voice, circling with Elorshin. "And then I will take my time with her. Doesn't she look lovely in that dress? I made certain not to give her anything to wear underneath. How long do you think I'll have before someone finds us?"

  Elorshin gives no indication that any of this is affecting him, though I feel his simmering rage, tightly controlled.

  And it might be a stupid thing to focus on, but what a dick move to not give me underwear!

  The nerve!

  Elorshin smiles and I know he must have heard me through our bond.

  Do not worry, my love. I will make certain he understands the error of his ways.

  And then he moves.

  I've never seen anyone that fast.

  And I can see from Daetoris' face that he isn't expecting the swiftness of the attack either, Elorshin's sword and knife move so fast they're a blur I can't keep track of.

  Daetoris just barely keeps up, the sound of metal clanging on metal loud as he retreats before the onslaught, on the defensive under the barrage of Elorshin's furious attacks.

  He grunts and steps back, his knife falling to the floor, and a deep slice opens along his forearm.

  Growling, he ducks and charges Elorshin.

  My heart is in my throat as I watch them go down.

  Daetoris isn't fighting for his life anymore. I think he's resigned to his death.

  He has nothing to lose.

  I hear Elorshin grunt as Daetoris lands a blow on his face, the crack of it making me wince as I look for the candle holder again.

  Maybe hitting the guy over the head isn't sportsman like, but I don't care, Elorshin is in trouble.

  Elorshin grunts as I pick up the heavy thing and turn to see him flipping over so he's on top.

  So little faith in me, my love?

  He throws his sword to the side and uses the hand with the knife to punch Daetoris in the face, swinging back far enough I know he's doing real damage.

  Bone crunches as he beats Daetoris to a literal, bloody pulp.

  I thought it would satisfy me to see, but nausea churns in my gut at the mess Elorshin has made of the other Prince’s face.

  Just as I'm thinking it's enough, Elorshin flips the knife in his hand and stabs it into Daetoris' throat, the resulting gurgling sound making me swallow and look away.

  Elorshin's breath is heavy in the quiet.

  Then there is the rustle of clothes.

  Air moves as he comes closer.

  I open my eyes as he stops in front of me.

  "Are you all right?" he asks, his voice hoarse. He raises his hand to cup my face, but then stops as he realizes they're covered in blood.

  A twinge of shame comes through our bond and I can't stand it.

  I bury myself against his front, knowing this stupid dress is no protection against the blood and gore he's covered in, but not caring.

  "Yes," I whisper, hugging him tight.

  He sighs, his relief clear as he closes his arms around me.

  But we have little time for our reunion.

  The door to the hall slams open and I open my eyes to see someone unfamiliar, his skin a lighter shade of blue under the blood splattering him and his hair a dark purple.

  Blood drips off his sword and onto the floor as he takes in the room, his lip curling as he sees the dead Prince Daetoris.

  "We must leave," he says, his eyes meeting Elorshin's.

  "Yes. Margot, this is Prince Naefaren Viir. He offered us aid tonight," Elorshin says as he takes my hand and leads me to the door, but I drag my feet.

  "Hello. I appreciate the help," I say, a little weirded out about introductions at a time like this, but also wanting to show my appreciation. "I'd love to leave. But would you mind if I put on different clothes?"

  Both of them glance down to take in the thin, flimsy dress and my half bare breasts.

  "Of course," they both say in unison, Naefaren working to keep his eyes averted.

  I almost laugh at the sudden embarrassment in the room.

  "Can you turn around?"

  "Yes," Elorshin says, taking Naefaren's arm and opening the door to push him out into the hall. I hear the other man chuckling, but he doesn't object to being thrown out.

  I pull on the clothes I came in. It's still too warm for them, but I would rather have protection from what's out there. I might as well be wearing nothing with that yellow dress.

  "Ready."

  Elorshin takes my hand and then we're out in the hall with Naefaren.

  He takes the lead with Naefaren behind me as we walk down the hall.

  I swallow as we pass the bodies of the guards lying in pools of their own blood outside my room.

  My eyes widen as we then pass a few more bodies, these not quite Alvan, though they aren't that far off, making them appear more grotesque. Their filmed over white eyes stare blankly, long, bloody fangs visible even with their mouths closed. The long claws on their hands and feet are razor sharp, their hunched over backs curved even when lying on the ground.

  Shivering, I look away, trying to focus only on Elorshin's broad back.

  Outside I feel vulnerable as we leave the House Mansion, no walls now between us and what lives in the dark.

  The familiar shriek of the mooli sounds again and there is a large shadow off in the distance. Elorshin veers in the other direction, his head moving as he scans the area in front of us.

  A group of five hunched over figures creeps out from an alley to the left.

  Oh shit.

  I feel helpless as Elorshin and Naefaren make swift work of them, their swords stabbing and slicing, their faces grim as they kill with practiced efficiency.

  Wow.

  Maybe I need to take lessons.

  Then we move forward again, the front border wall our target. As we move through the village, our group grows, people from House Viir and House Do'ana joining us. When we reach the waiting carriages, everyone takes anyone they can find, be they from Viir, Do'ana, or Ki'lar.

  As we reach the gates leading out into the large cavern, shouts come from behind us and I turn to see a large swarm of Devos
rushing toward our caravan of carriages.

  Elorshin's barks at the juntta, urging it to go faster, clicking at it as its spindly legs quickly pick up speed.

  But there's no way we will outrun that mass. It's too close and gaining.

  Then there is another rumbling shriek and I turn toward it to see the mooli making its way into the swarm, grabbing Devos in its clawed hands and dipping down to take another in its powerful jaws.

  The swarm turns on the mooli, mouths gaping wide, large fangs on display as they snarl and attack.

  I wish that mooli luck.

  The distraction is enough for most of the carriages to break free, though we lose two before they can. The people close by help but it isn't possible when the Devos cover the carriage, the people inside not even visible.

  I try to close out the sounds coming from behind us, holding tight to Elorshin's arm as we make it to the tunnel.

  This is the stuff of nightmares.

  My relief and joy at being with Elorshin are tempered by the cost.

  Breaking free of the pursuit, the rest of the journey back home isn't so harrowing.

  It seems everything in the vicinity already converged on House Ki'lar.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Elorshin

  The journey to House Viir is different this time.

  It has been a quiet few days since the night when we attacked House Ki'lar to bring Margot back. I glance over and smile at my Pari where she sits beside me in the carriage.

  She smiles back, covering my hand with her own, the flow of love I feel from the bond we share a constant in my life I never want to feel ripped away again.

  I would rather we still be safely at House Do'ana, but I can't ignore the summons.

  Although, to be fair, Prince Naefaren did request our presence. The messenger was much more solicitous this time than he had been on previous trips.

  I do not know why he wants us to come see him, but I do not have the same churning in my gut I felt when being summoned to the Major House before. It feels as if our relationship has changed in some indiscernible way.

  When we arrive at House Viir, the people we pass give us give us respectful nods rather than the haughty looks I am accustomed to receiving. Rather than putting me at ease, I find myself uncomfortable at the change.