by J. M. Page
He didn’t blame his parents for still being hopeful, he just knew what a waste of energy it was at this point.
“I’m eager to return home,” he said to Doran. “Please make the shuttle ready as soon as possible. After I meet with the Ambassador, I’d rather not dawdle.”
Doran opened his mouth to say something, then snapped his jaw shut with a swift nod. “Of course, Your Highness.”
Gravity took hold of the ship and pulled them in with ferocity, hurtling toward the surface with enough speed to break the sound barrier.
“Does His Majesty not think it might be interesting to take in the local sights and cultures?” Doran said, ignoring the clattering all around them as they violently pushed through the Earth’s atmosphere.
Zakrom shrugged, his eyes still locked on the blue planet. “Unlikely. I’ve seen so many before, they all run together.”
Doran said nothing more for the rest of the flight.
Zakrom had a strange sensation in his lower stomach — a buzzing anticipation he couldn’t quite identify. He’d been to a thousand planets just like this one and never felt this way upon landing.
As the ship touched down and the full force of Earth’s gravity pressed into him, the buzzing intensified.
Something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was or what it meant, but something was not at all right with this planet. He felt it deep down, stronger than any intuition that ever nagged at his consciousness.
Unclipping his harness, Zakrom stood from his seat and joined the rest of his entourage in deboarding the shuttle.
They ran through the routine quarantine and decontamination that every spaceport had, and then he was ushered out into the light of day.
Earth’s was a small, yet sufficiently warm sun and it tickled his skin, warming him throughout at its gentle caress.
Overhead, the sky was a more brilliant shade of blue than even the oceans had been from space. And from this vantage point, the clouds were puffy and light, looking soft enough to sleep on.
Though none of those things were as welcoming and wholly enjoyable as the sweet scent of the air. It was indescribable, intoxicating, and so blissful he wanted to bathe in it. Never had he smelled air so sweet and delicious. He could practically taste it.
The tense hum in his stomach strengthened and Zakrom had half a mind to turn around and forget this gorgeous and unsettling planet.
“The Ambassador should be meeting us here any moment, Your Majesty,” Doran said, standing at his side.
Zakrom always felt a little inferior next to his advisor. Doran had met his One at a young age — an ethereal beauty with iridescent scales over her body and hair that glowed like moonlight. When she and Doran shared the Kiss, Doran became one of her kind, tall, lithe, and beautiful. He retained his green eyes, the only thing of his Granotan self to survive the Change.
Again, the familiar pang of jealousy stabbed at Zakrom, reminding him of what he’d never have.
They stood on a platform near a building, awaiting the Ambassador. It was a bit unorthodox to be left waiting — generally there were whole welcoming committees waiting before he even landed. To be greeted with an empty air space only furthered his apprehension.
“Please, Reina. Anything at all, you’ll be saving my life. I gotta go, he should be here any min—Oh.”
The moment she came around the corner, Zakrom’s knees buckled, the buzzing in his stomach growing to a gnawing drone that consumed his every waking thought, filling his head with a singular thought: it’s her.
She clearly hadn’t expected them to beat her to the platform and was caught off guard, her pale, smooth skin turning a warm pink that made Zak’s heart jump to his throat.
And all at once, he realized it wasn’t just Earth’s air that smelled so sweet, it was her. She was the reason behind the unease he felt. She was what had him so captivated before he’d even stepped foot onto the planet.
She was his One.
And she was gorgeous. Unlike any other he’d met on his travels. Her hair looked like liquid gold and he itched to drag his fingers through it, to feel it brush against his skin. Her face was round, with a short nose and wide eyes that drew him in.
He wanted to forget everything he was here for and run to her, profess his undying devotion, and Kiss her.
That kind of behavior was unbecoming a Prince, so he stood in place, clasping his hands together so tight they hurt, trying his best to keep his composure while every fiber of his being screamed at him to be closer to her, to claim her as his, once and for all.
She walked to them with a brisk stride, trying to make up pace for being tardy, and when she reached them, she was breathless, her words labored and short. “Your Highness. I’m so… sorry,” she said. “No excuse…”
Zakrom started to forgive her, swearing he’d forgive her for anything if only she’d join him, but then he noticed something. She wasn’t looking at him — she was looking at Doran.
And just like that, it all came crashing down on him again. The hopelessness, the cynicism, the complete certainty that there was no more than this for him in the Universe.
She didn’t look at him and see a Prince. She didn’t look at him at all. She’d immediately seen Doran and made an assumption.
As she surely would make an assumption about Zak if she ever bothered to look at him. Though he’d rather she didn’t. He knew what to expect. He knew that she would never want to Kiss a creature as hideous as him.
Chapter Three
Jen
She couldn’t believe she was late meeting the Prince. It was one thing to be late to work. Or even a meeting. But a meeting with a foreign Prince for work… She was so going to get fired.
Jen tried to explain things to Reina, and offered her anything in the world for her help, but her co-worker seemed unmoved. She didn’t understand the concept of forgetting things, or letting personal life get in the way of work.
Jen was nearly convinced that Reina was a robot.
She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks, eyeing the strange mixed-up group of aliens. Her gaze traveled over each of them — one was broad-shouldered and blue-skinned with pointed ears and a shiny bald head. Another was shorter, a little stouter, his skin green and bumpy, almost like bark. He stood with his hands clasped, his mouth a barely perceptible line across his face, his eyes glued on her in an unsettling way. Next to him was another — completely different — alien. This one with scales that glimmered like opal and short hair that actually seemed to be lit from within, glowing even in the bright sunlight. They each shared the same neon green eyes with pupils that were not quite round and not quite slits — like amphibians had.
Jen wished she knew anything about these visitors. She wished she’d done her research and could make any sense of this strange conglomeration of extraterrestrials. She wished a lot of things at that moment, but wishes didn’t come true.
If they did, she wouldn’t still be single and frazzled all the time.
Out of the three, only the opalescent man offered her a kind smile. That, coupled with his obvious poise and grace made her gravitate toward him, walking as briskly as she could without breaking into a sprint.
First impressions are everything, Jennifer, she reminded herself. Showing up late was not going to help ingratiate herself with these aliens.
“Your Highness,” she said, out of breath. “I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for my tardiness.”
The shimmering man tilted his head to the side, regarding her with a curious look that made her stomach plummet.
She didn’t know how, but she’d already screwed up. Maybe there was some ritual greeting she should have performed? A different title to address him by? A—
“No need to apologize,” said the shorter green man in the middle, his eyes still burning into her with a warmth that lit her on fire, despite the chill in the air.
Jen winced internally and turned to him with a great big smile that she’d learned to force a long time
ago.
“Your Highness?” she tried again. He nodded, and Jen wanted to sink straight through the Earth and never be seen again.
You’ve really stuck your foot in it this time, she chided herself. It was bad enough to know nothing about their kind, but to insult the Prince by not recognizing him?
Tully was going to have her drawn and quartered.
“Welcome to Earth,” she said, offering her hand.
He grasped her hand firmly, his grip warmer than she expected, and gave a shake. Something arced between them, a spark of energy that startled and confused Jen, but she couldn’t dwell on it. She needed to get through this meeting with her job — and Earth’s safety — in tact.
“I apologize for the Ambassador’s absence. He was called away on urgent business this morning. I’ll be the one showing you around,” she said, her voice wavering a bit as the Prince’s eyes continued to bore into her.
Why did he look at her so intently? Was this another custom of the Granotans that she didn’t know about?
For the thousandth time since she arrived in the office, she cursed herself for being so unprepared. It wasn’t like her. She never failed this miserably and it just kept compounding, getting worse the deeper she went.
“I shall have to thank whoever called the Ambassador away, in that case,” the Prince said, his voice rough and husky, not at all fitting with his exterior.
Jen couldn’t exactly call the man attractive, but there was something about him that intrigued her. She felt a magnetic pull that she couldn’t identify and his flattery made her heart speed up, her cheeks flushing with warmth.
She’d spent enough time around beings from other planets to not be phased by the odd appearances of some, but this group of Granotans were all so different from one another she didn’t know what it meant.
Without acknowledging his compliment, Jen opened the folder in her hands and produced a sheet of paper, handing one to each man in the group. “Your itinerary, Your Highness—”
“Zak,” he said.
She paused, frowning at his interruption, knowing she was going to forget the rest of what she’d planned to say.
“I’m sorry?”
“Zak is my name, please. What is yours?”
Jen’s stomach did a little flip-flop at the thought of calling a Prince by his given name. It seemed wildly unprofessional. But then again, what about this day had been even remotely close to professional?
“Uh, okay, Zak,” she said, trying out the name. It left a strange fizzing sensation on the tip of her tongue that wasn’t at all unpleasant. “I’m Jen,” she added, her heart jumping to her throat. She’d thought the worst part of all of this would be meeting the Prince, but now that that was behind her, she realized there was an even more arduous task — socializing with him.
There were so many things that could go wrong. A never-ending number of things that could go awry and leave her planet a smoldering hunk of rock drifting through space. Earth was not in the position to be aggressive with other planets, that’s why diplomatic missions like this were so important to everyone’s well-being. She was meant to forge ties with the Granotans, get them to sign a peace treaty, and be on her way.
It sounded much more daunting now that she was faced with the odd beings and the Prince’s arresting gaze.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jen,” he said. It was a normal statement to make, but there was something extra underneath. Something that vibrated deep within her and left her scrambling. She didn’t know what it was about this Prince that had her so unnerved, but she just needed to get through this.
“Shall we proceed to the car?” she offered, putting on her best ‘I’m a professional’ voice. She’d already made enough mistakes by not doing her research and she didn’t know what to do with Zak’s casual demeanor. She expected someone stuffier, someone who put more emphasis on his title and station.
Zak was not at all what she expected from royalty, but it wasn’t an unwelcome development. At least he hadn’t demanded her head on a platter yet. She had that going for her.
As she led the entourage to the waiting limousine, Jen got the unshakable feeling that the Prince’s eyes were still on her, still burning right through her, making her insides squirm under his scrutiny.
Was he sizing her up? Assessing her? Was he going to report her to her superiors and make sure she lost her job?
The thought made her sick.
There wasn’t a lot in Jen’s life to be proud of, but she’d always liked her job at the Interplanetary Embassy. She didn’t really want to lose it — and it wasn’t like her set of skills was particularly useful elsewhere.
She needed to do everything right from here on out. Even if she had no idea what “right” was.
Chapter Four
Zak
He watched her walk towards the waiting vehicle, the subtle sway of her hips mesmerizing. She wore simple clothes, nothing too form-fitting or too loose, but he liked the way the fabric caressed her curves. He liked the way those curves beckoned his fingers to do the same.
But there was something wrong with his One. She seemed unduly nervous. He’d tried not to show his disappointment when she mistook Doran for himself. He’d tried to laugh it off and pulled from the years of lessons he’d had on socializing to gloss over her faux pas, but still she seemed distracted. Like she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.
Did she not feel the pull too? It was so strong inside of him — the need to be near her, to touch her, to hear her musical voice saying his name. Zakrom couldn’t believe that it was one-sided.
It may have been naive to think it, but he was convinced there was something else bothering his One. Something that snatched her attention from him.
As she stood to the side and let him into the vehicle, Zak resolved to find out what it was that plagued her mind.
They all settled in, Zakrom, Doran, and Golbath on one side of the car, Jen on the opposite side, facing him. The vehicle started to move forward and Zak tried to relax.
“Is this your first time without the Ambassador?” he asked her, pulled into her bottomless blue eyes. The same color as the sparkling oceans he’d seen from space.
She pursed her lips, looking away out the window before nodding. “Yes, it is.”
“You seem nervous,” he said, leaning forward, his voice soft and — he hoped — soothing. “You don’t have to be.” He ached to reach out and take her hand in his. To stroke the soft skin of her wrist, to bring her fingertips to his lips.
He wanted to reassure her, to soothe the raging anxiety he saw reflected in those cerulean eyes.
But he couldn’t do that with Doran and Golbath near him and he wasn’t sure she’d welcome it. He was still a hideous creature from a faraway planet. For all he knew, his One had her own mate on Earth.
That thought soured his mood, but he tried not to show it.
“Thanks…” she said, pulling her eyes to meet his and looking away quickly. “I wouldn’t be if I was more prepared. Your file got buried and I had a crazy morning and I’m sure if I mess this up I’m going to be fired or the planet is going to blow up or something disastrous…” The words seemed to pour out of her in a rush of breath and all too late she realized what she’d said, her eyes going wide and her mouth clamping shut.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe… Just stop talking, Jen,” she grumbled at herself, her face glowing with red heat.
Zak just smiled. He smiled so hard that it turned into a laugh. She looked at him, horrified by his reaction, and he tried to reassure her again. “You really think I would order your planet destroyed because of an unproductive meeting?”
Her face glowed brighter and she stared at her hands like they suddenly held the secrets to life. “I… Should not have said any of that. My apologies,” she said, looking like she wished she were invisible.
It was a look that Zakrom could sympathize with. Every meeting like this, every ball, every holiday was the same for him.
While all eyes tended to follow the royal family, Zak wanted nothing more than to fade out of view, to hide his ugliness from everyone, and never show his face in public again.
So, yes, he recognized that look when he saw it and felt instantly guilty that his One was struggling so.
“There’s no need to apologize. Your honesty is refreshing. I’ve had enough perfect manners to last me a lifetime,” he said, hoping to cheer her somewhat.
It was all true, though. He wasn’t used to anyone speaking to him with so much candor. He’d never met an official that told him she’d had a bad morning. Usually they were perfectly poised, with neutral expressions, and stiff rehearsed lines.
