Sold To The Athim Prince

by Hollie Hutchins

  Sold To The Athim Prince

  Hollie Hutchins

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  More By Hollie

  Captain’s Claimed Property

  One Night One Secret

  The Deadwolves Prisoner

  A Pet For Lord Darin

  Gifted To The Dragon King

  Let’s Be Friends!

  Prologue

  “Freya.” My older sister’s soft voice interrupted my deep sleep. “You need to wake up. Right this minute.”

  “Leave me alone,” I said, pulling the covers over my head. She shook me hard. I tried to ignore her, but she wasn’t giving up.

  “Freya,” she insisted. “You need to wake up! It’s important!”

  I opened my eyes and glanced over at the clock on my night table. The large, red numbers screamed at me. 5:36 a.m. As I assumed, it was far too early for her to be waking me up. What did she want?

  “Leave me alone,” I said firmly. Unless the White House was burning down, I had no interest in getting out of bed at this time. I didn’t smell smoke, so I assumed that wasn’t the issue.

  She was perched on the edge of my bed, refusing to move. It was dark, so I couldn’t make out her features. I swatted at her, angry. Like every other day, I wanted to sleep in. Apparently, she had other ideas.

  “What the hell d’you want, Anya?” I asked, closing my eyes and turning my back towards her. “Unless World War Three has started, go away. I want to sleep more.”

  “It’s worse than that,” she whispered.

  I turned back over and opened my eyes. I felt along the edges of my nightstand and found my lamp. Turning it on, I saw that her face was red and blotchy. Her eyes were swollen so bad that they were almost shut. It was obvious she’d been crying. I hadn’t seen her look this distraught since our mother’s funeral a few months ago.

  “Is it Dad?” I suddenly grew alarmed. She shook her head.

  “It’s not Dad,” she sniffled. “It’s you.”

  I sat up and grabbed her shoulders.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. I was perfectly fine. I was 20 years old, healthy, and obviously alive. Why was she coming into my room before 6:00am?

  The tears began to pour down her face. She started to speak, but was so distraught that none of the words were making any sense. I thought I heard the words “trade”, “Athim”, and “Dad”, but other than that, she was too busy crying.

  “Anya, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked once again. “What do you mean it’s me? I’m right here. I’m OK.”

  A giant knot formed in my stomach. I was desperate for her to talk clearly. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Dad’s traded you to the aliens,” she sobbed, collapsing into my arms.

  Chapter 1

  “Is this fucking true?” I swung open the heavy door to my father’s study. He glanced up from his laptop and back down again.

  “I’m assuming that your sister ruined the surprise,” he said dryly, avoiding eye contact with me. I’m sure he was expecting this type of confrontation from me today, but probably not at this hour.

  “I can’t believe you would do this!” My voice boomed throughout the large room. But, truthfully, I could, and did believe it. My father was calculating and devious. It was one of the reasons, if not the main reason, that he climbed to the top of the ladder in the American government. He was currently the highest ranked official in the country. The 48th President of the United States of America.

  “You’re being completely selfish, Freya.” He rose from his chair and walked across the room. “You know full well what peril we’re in.” He nodded to Joaquin, the head security guard who was stationed outside, and shut the door.

  “Sit your ass down,” he instructed, pointing to the chair on the other side of his desk. I let out a loud, irritated sigh, but followed his orders. Although I simmered with anger, I knew better than to disobey him. He had quite a temper, one that I was unfortunately all too familiar with. He sat back down in his chair and shut his laptop.

  “What exactly did your sister tell you?” He asked, leaning over the large oak desk. “As we both know, Anya tends to be over dramatic. Did she tell you exactly why I’m trading you to the aliens?”

  Trading. Just hearing the word infuriated me. I was a human being, not a baseball card. When I didn’t answer, he continued to speak.

  “As you know, their bio-engineering technology is exquisite,” he said. “Since the Athims have arrived on Earth, they have been eager to trade for certain types of humans. And we know that if they don’t get the kind of deal they want, they’ll look elsewhere.”

  I rolled my eyes. I knew why humans were being traded to the aliens. Greedy people, such as my father, were hungry for the alien’s advanced technology. Although it had been a short period of time since the Athim aliens had set foot on Earth, this wasn’t the first I had heard of the trades. Nothing had yet happened in the United States, but there were many public trades in Europe.

  I had recently read a People magazine article where young girls were traded to the Athims from a small, underprivileged town outside of Europe. It had disturbed me to my core, reading about their families trading them for money and other goods. I remember reading it and thinking how sad it was for their families to willingly hand them over to aliens, never to see them again.

  My father was still talking about the trade when I interrupted him.

  “I know about the trades all over the world between humans and technology, but I never once thought it would happen in America! Nor did I ever think the President of the United States would happily trade his youngest daughter to an alien race!”

  “It’s for a noble cause,” my father continued to speak. He showed no trace of emotion. Of remorse. “This technology can cure cancer, Freya. No one else on the planet will have this…”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry,” I interrupted him. “How silly of me to be upset that my life’s being traded for a cancer cure! I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that with this advanced technology, America will become the most powerful country in the world, and you, the most powerful man in the world!”

  “I thought you would be more understanding, seeing as your mother just died of cancer,” he said.

  I thought I was angry before, but now I was furious. How dare he play that card. We lost my mother six months ago to brain cancer. The wounds were still open, but that didn’t stop him pouring salt into them.

  “Speaking of Mom,” I said. “How do you think she would have felt about this? She’s probably rolling over in her grave!”

  “Freya,” my father spoke firmly. “You can sit here and try to guilt trip me, but it’s not going to work. The papers have been signed. The deal is final. This is happening tomorrow. Is there anything else you would like to say?”

  I knew I was fighting a losing battle when I came into his office, but hearing the word “final” was a piercing blow. When I failed to respond to my father, he pushed the intercom button next to his laptop.

  “I’m done with her for now, Joaquin,” he spoke into the intercom
. “Please come and escort her back to her room. Make sure she doesn’t try to escape.”

  As soon as his finger left the button, the door opened, and Joaquin appeared. My father stood up, and it felt like I was looking at a monster.

  “This is complete bullshit,” I said, shooting him a dirty look. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

  I stood up from the chair, fighting back the tears. My father walked over to my side of the desk, still emotionless. It was a face that I was used to seeing. He hadn’t even cried when my mother had died. And she was supposed to be the love of his life.

  “You’ll have the rest of the day to say your goodbyes,” he told me. “Use the time wisely, Freya. You leave Dulles in the morning. I’ll have the staff gather some of your belongings to take on your journey.”

  My journey! He was acting as if I were going on vacation or off to school. Before I could protest any further, Joaquin swiftly took me by my arm and led me out of the room. As soon as we were in the hallway, he let go. I rubbed my arm where he had grabbed it.

  “This is bullshit,” I said. “I can’t believe you work for such a pig!”

  “I’m sorry, Freya,” he spoke softly. He looked like he was about to cry. Despite leading my father’s security team for the past three years, we had grown very close. He was my rock throughout my mother’s battle with cancer. I was closer to him than I was to my sister. Of course, my father had no idea. If he had, Joaquin would have been fired on the spot.

  One thing I knew that couldn’t happen – he wouldn’t help me escape. He liked me, and he was prepared to do a lot for me – but not to lose his job.

  “If I may suggest, please stay here today,” Joaquin said. “Call your friends and have them come here. Word is already out about the trade. I’m afraid that our security team couldn’t handle it if you went on a goodbye tour all over the city. I can get someone to arrange a dinner party if you would like. I will make sure your favorite wine is flowing steadily. You still like Pinot Grigio, right?”

  While I appreciated that he was trying to help, I was too upset to have a dinner party. There was just one person that I wanted to see. My best friend of 10 years, Tiffany.

  “Could you just get Tiffany?” I pleaded. I knew that he could not resist when I looked at him like that. There were many nights that I had successfully escaped the White House by giving him that very look.

  He smiled at me and put his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’ll do that right away,” he said. “Freya, if you need anything at all today, please just let me know.”

  “I will,” I responded. “I just need Tiffany right now.”

  He nodded, and we parted ways.

  As soon as I turned the corner in the hallway, I sprinted to my room, ignoring the shocked look on the staff’s faces as I passed them by. I had a feeling that they all knew about the trade. I was starting to think that I was the last person to find out about it.

  Regardless, I didn’t want any more sympathy. Sympathy was not going to change the fact that my father was a heartless asshole.

  I shut my bedroom door behind me, locking it for good measure. I went to the window and opened the white curtains. Outside, the June sun began to rise. The birds were chirping, and the green leaves blew in the already warm summer breeze. It looked to be another picture-perfect day in Washington, D.C. At least God was on my side. He was giving me a sight for my last full day on Earth.

  As I turned to get back into bed, I noticed the long line of news vans streaming into the White House. The last time this many news vans had shown up was when my mother passed away. They stayed outside for days after that. For a solid week, they were a constant reminder every morning that I had lost my mother.

  I knew exactly why they were here this time. The American people were losing another Miller woman. This time it was me.

  I shut the curtains tight. During my mother’s passing, the paparazzi had somehow gotten a shot of me crying in Joaquin’s arms in my bedroom. PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTER SLEEPING WITH HEAD GUARD! Needless to say, my father was not happy with those headlines. It took me, Anya, and Joaquin to convince him that we didn’t have sex. To be honest, I was 20 years old, and still a virgin.

  Privacy was hard to come by when you were the president’s youngest daughter. I never invited a boy to the White House. There were many in school that had shown interest in me, but I was pretty confident that they had just wanted to see the White House. No one seemed interested in me as an individual, except for Joaquin.

  We had talked about possibly dating after my father’s presidency was complete in two years, but obviously that would not be happening now. Not only were the Athims taking me away from my friends, they were taking me away from someone I might have one day grown to love.

  Even if I did have privacy, the past year was mentally exhausting for me. Between basically being locked up in my room and dealing with my mother’s death, romance had been the last thing on my mind.

  I climbed back into my bed, thinking about how life was so different last year, before the Hallon aliens had invaded. In the past year, I had wrapped up my sophomore year at Georgetown University, buried my mother, and survived an attack caused by the first alien invasion.

  Ironically, the Hallon aliens invaded on July 4th, Independence Day, just like in the iconic movie. They attacked Washington D.C. first, knowing it was the heart of our government. However, due to our country’s surveillance, we knew they were coming a solid two days before they landed. While we could not stop them, a few of us were able to prepare.

  For obvious reasons, no one outside of the White House knew that they were coming. They prepped a small bunker underneath Washington D.C. for our family and a few key government officials. But, the rest of the country was caught by surprise when they landed.

  I spent a good two weeks of my life in a bunker underneath the White House with my father, mother, Anya, and Joaquin. It was Hell. It was also during this time that my mother started to feel ill. At the time, we thought it was just the stress of the alien invasion.

  The Americans, along with our other allies, defeated the Hallons. The remaining aliens left our country, promising to never come back again. We thought we were safe until months later, when the Athim aliens arrived.

  The Athims were a different breed of aliens. They were stronger, smarter, and more human-like. Unlike the Hallons, they didn’t come to conquer Earth. They were not violent. They wanted nothing to do with Earth as a planet. They were here for one single reason: Human trade. Some of the European governments had agreed to trade, but nothing had ever happened in America. Until today.

  Chapter 2

  My best friend, Tiffany, entered my room. Since I had returned from my father, I sat cross-legged on my bed, and tried to calm myself down. I tried several meditation techniques, but unfortunately, nothing worked. I could’t stop thinking about the impending trade.

  “Jesus Christ, Freya! I’m so, so sorry!” She flung herself at me. accidentally knocking me over. I brushed myself off after the hug and got back into a seated position. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t stop crying.

  We just held each other as I let her release her sadness. She finally took a deep breath and talked.

  “It’s all over the news, Frey,” she said. “‘President Miller trades daughter.’ It came across the news late last night. I tried to reach you, but of course, they had you locked in here. Joaquin couldn’t even let me get to you.”

  This didn’t surprise me.

  “What are people saying about it?” I asked, genuinely curious. I wondered if everyone else had similar thoughts to mine. Specifically thoughts that my father was a cold-hearted asshole. I couldn’t escape him, because by the time I realized what he was, we were on the fast track to his presidency, and you just don’t defy a man like that. One who would do anything to ensure his victory.

  “It’s crazy,” Tiffany continued. “I‘ve never seen anything so polarizing in my entire life. Half of the country
think he’s a God, and then the other half, the devil. Some people are praising him for obtaining the cancer cure, but others can’t believe that he would do this to you, especially after your mother’s death. Here, I snuck this in.”

  She dug a ripped piece of newspaper from her jeans pocket and thrust it into my hands. If we were normal college students, we would have been able to look it up quickly on the internet. But we were not. I was the youngest daughter of the President, and completely sheltered from the outside world. I didn’t have a cell phone or a computer. I relied on getting my updates from Joaquin. My guests were not allowed to bring technology in the White House, either. All devices were secured at the door and kept on lockdown for the guest’s entire stay.

  “United States President Peter Miller obtains a cure for cancer,” I read aloud. “President Miller made a selfless trade with the Athim alien race late Friday night. Miller will trade his youngest daughter, Freya, for advanced technology that will cure all forms of cancer. The Athims have never made such a hefty trade, but specific interest in Freya as being the daughter of a powerful human finalized the deal. Athim Prince Modric and Freya will marry in a brief ceremony tomorrow before leaving the planet.”

  Marry? My father had failed to mention anything about that. Tiffany recognized the terror in my eyes, and instantly attempted to calm me.

  “Wait, wait, please don’t freak out.” She produced another piece of paper. This one was a picture printed from the internet. She handed it over.

  “I mean, your new husband is pretty fucking hot,” she said. As if that would somehow make the whole situation better. I looked at the picture. Prince Modric. I had heard his name before, but never saw his face. We did hear about the most prominent of their own. Just like they know about our leaders. Like most Athim aliens, he looked relatively human. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He must have been at least 6’6”. He had dark brown, human looking eyes and a full head of dark brown hair.