Alien Prince's Bride: Scifi Alien Romantic Triangle Romance Novel

by Vi Voxley

  “Exactly,” Violet said. “He’s just going to die. I don’t know what you thought up for the trials, father, but it can’t be anything safe.”

  “No. It isn’t.”

  “So, don’t let him enlist!”

  “It’s done,” the Overlord said and she knew it was final.

  Alright, so that hope was gone. Areon was going to be a competitor and stand a chance, however non-existent, to win.

  God, why?

  “How about the Prince?” she pressed on. Another concern. Honestly, she felt like life was screwing her over on purpose. So many things were piling up.

  The Overlord laughed. “Who, him? He didn’t sign up. Said he’s going to sit this one out. But he wants to enjoy the show.”

  “You don’t think it’s really him, do you?”

  “Of course not,” her father said. “He’s mocking us. The proxy is so scared of his own second-in-command that I’m amazed he manages to speak at all. Reim enlisted, though. Good man. I don’t know what he’s doing running around with that bastard, but I think he stands a fair chance.”

  “Not against the real Prince,” Violet said proudly.

  Her father gave her a tired look. “I know you want him, but I’d love to snap his treacherous neck – for the proxy alone. Does he really think anyone is fooled?”

  “Probably not,” Violet said, relieved that her father agreed with her. The Prince was somewhere out there. She’d just have to find out who he was. Then everything could be back on track. “And you know you can’t do anything while the tournament lasts, father.”

  “I know,” the Overlord said, his voice dark and dangerous. “But I can still make his life miserable.”

  Violet started to argue, but that would have been in vain as well. Besides, if the Prince couldn’t take whatever the tournament was, he wasn’t worthy of her anyway. She’d just let things progress in their natural way.

  “Don’t pick a fight with him,” she just said.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t,” said the Overlord, standing to his full height. “An old man like me.”

  Violet frowned. Despite his age, her father was still a calaya-born warrior as well, the whisk of lime green falling on his brow. His face was broad and grim, showing the wounds he’d gotten in his many battles. One cut ran over his lip, giving him an ever-present look of sneering even when he was smiling. He had been monstrous in his youth and most of his strength and bulk still showed. He’d be a fair match to most of the warriors who were about to compete. To add to her growing pile of troubles, now she had to make sure her father didn’t arrange for the Prince to be murdered on the arena.

  Wherever he was.

  ***

  Of the two, the proxy was easier to find. Violet asked Forial to go and search for Areon, to try out her last chance of saving his life – reasoning. She had to physically suppress the shudder at Forial’s closeness. The thought that he might win her scared her a bit. What kind of life would that be? A dull, joyless one, that was for sure.

  The Prince better be as good as they say, she thought.

  Violet found the proxy simply enough. Technically she wasn’t supposed to be out in the common areas at all. Ironically, the tricks Irmela had once taught them came in handy now. She found both the fake Prince and Reim in the middle of a curious crowd, answering their many questions. The proxy looked honestly terrified, while Reim seemed amused. He was also the only one to see Violet. She was very thankful to him for not exposing her. Instead, she did her best to signal for them to ditch the crowd. He nodded, smirking.

  Then he just picked up the proxy and started walking towards her. Violet giggled and fled before she could be seen.

  “Fun’s over,” she heard Reim call back to the crowd. “Me and the Prince have things to discuss.”

  Violet was afraid they wouldn’t be able to follow, but Reim picked up her trail easily enough. Either she wasn’t as elusive as she’d thought or he was very good. The proxy dangled helplessly in Reim’s grip. He barely managed to scramble over the floor fast enough to avoid being literally dragged along.

  Finally, they were in a safe room. She figured they were under the arena somewhere – empty for now while everyone was preparing for the grand opening. Soon they would start looking for her, so she had to be quick. Before the men caught up, Violet checked to see whether the long veils of her dress covered her properly. All the calayas were practically buried in the flowing, almost air-light dresses that felt like wearing clouds. No use ruining the effect of the unveiling, even if the Prince wasn’t around.

  Reim dropped the proxy unceremoniously. He was left crouching on the floor, staring up at her.

  “You’re so, so...” he stuttered.

  “So calaya,” Violet helped, smiling. Even with the veils, her beauty must have been something. It made her hopeful, very hopeful. She wondered if she could leave the Prince drooling just like that.

  “You’ll have to excuse him, my lady,” Reim said, grinning. “He’s not used to it all. Poor boy. Playing the Prince is a tough task.”

  Wow. I thought you’d keep up the charade for at least a minute or so.

  It was fair enough, though – everyone could see the truth. Violet banished her earlier concerns of a great scheme. Of course this cowardly thing couldn’t be the Prince. Her paranoia was really getting the best of her.

  “You don’t even deny it,” she said.

  “No use,” Reim laughed. “He thought it would be funnier this way. I have to admit I agree. Sarto here is doing wonderfully.”

  “Fooling no one.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Reim grinned. “I would have paid good money to see the Overlord’s face. That’s something, you know, coming from a mercenary.”

  “He was pretty mad,” Violet said. “It’s not very wise to anger my father.”

  “So I keep telling him,” Reim shrugged. “To provoke the Overlord is suicidal – my exact words.”

  “So why did he?”

  “He has a strange sense of humor.”

  “Clearly,” Violet said. “But he is here then?”

  She had tried very hard to not make her voice too desperate, but, of course, it didn’t work. Her voice never obeyed her when she needed it to.

  Reim chuckled.

  “He’s around,” he said. “I’ll pass on your concern.”

  Violet glared. “You’ll do no such thing! I just wanted to know.”

  “So badly you came to look for us?” Reim pointed out. “Despite the fact we’re not supposed to even see you yet.”

  “I…” she began. “I needed to know. Don’t tell him.”

  “We’ll see,” Reim said, turning to leave. “Come along now, Sarto.”

  The proxy was still on the floor. His eyes had not left Violet once. She sighed. Overhead, she heard the announcements sounding, echoing over the empty halls to call everyone to the grand arena. The others must have already been ready to take their stage, but Violet still had things to attend to. They could wait – she was the prize. They wouldn’t start without her.

  ***

  She found Areon in Forial’s headlock.

  “Hi, Violet,” he managed to wheeze. “Could you kindly help?”

  “Release him,” she said. “Thank you, Forial. I can take it from here.”

  The warrior sent her a reprimanding look, but said nothing. He just nodded towards the arena, signaling that they were all expected to be there very soon. Violet nodded impatiently. He acted like she wasn’t aware of her bloody tournament’s opening ceremony.

  Areon was sitting on the floor, rubbing his throat. “That’s gonna hurt,” he said.

  Violet had to admit that he’d changed in the years that had passed. Areon had been averagely built when he was a guard – a very common, plain man. Now he’d put on a bit of muscle and grown taller. Quite a bit taller. Even standing above him, she could see he’d grown a lot. Underneath all that, though, he was still the same – messy brown hair, clear gray eyes. Warrior-built, maybe, but h
e wasn’t a warrior like the rest of the men out there.

  He might even be a handsome man, if he still wasn’t Areon.

  That was a nice, comforting lie. Her heart had sped up significantly. She hadn’t gotten a very good look from the gate. Now that Areon was looking at her with those gray eyes of his, Violet felt like she was losing a game she hadn’t agreed to.

  “I told you not to come back,” she said at once.

  He looked at her, putting on a sad face. “Aw, why do you have to say that? No hello first? Or even glad to see you’re still drawing breath?”

  “I dearly wish I could say that,” Violet snapped, trying to hold on to her resolve. “I do. But I hear you’ve signed up for the tournament and so I don’t think you’ll be breathing much longer.”

  Areon smiled. She’d liked that smile once. Calayas didn’t talk much to anyone other than their family, but they did have guards – and she had to admit she’d enjoyed his company quite a lot.

  Understatement of the year, said a voice inside her.

  Violet thought she’d silenced that voice a long time ago. Her reunion with Areon had dragged down some walls inside her faster than she could realize they were falling.

  He’d made her laugh, a long time ago. That had been the time when Violet still allowed herself to laugh – before she became a proper calaya.

  He was a bad memory, a false nostalgia for a weaker, more foolish her.

  For a time you were happy, the same treacherous part of her said.

  “You don’t think my chances are good, huh?” he asked.

  Violet growled in frustration, a habit she definitely had inherited from her father. “No, Areon,” she said. “Do you even know who enlisted? How can you think you stand a chance?”

  “I didn’t look at the list,” he said, still sitting on the floor. The sounds coming from outside were now most definitely calling for her in particular.

  “You’re mad,” she said, shaking her head. “Do you remember Forial? He’s fighting.”

  “Yeah,” Areon said, rubbing his throat. “His paws left a mark on my neck. Lovely fellow.”

  “Most of the clans are here! Mercenaries. Reim enlisted. And the Prince!”

  “You almost sound like you care,” Areon said.

  Violet rolled her eyes, trying to convince herself of just the opposite. What could she say to make that fool understand?

  “You’re making a mockery of my tournament,” she finally said. “They’ll hack you to pieces.”

  Areon’s smile faded. “I promised I would be here,” he said quietly.

  “And I told you not to come,” Violet said through gritted teeth.

  He gave a hopeful smile. “So you don’t want me to die?”

  “I don’t want you to win.”

  That might have been a touch too cruel, but Violet couldn’t help it. She was out of any other options but making him quit. Soon she’d have to take the stage. All her life she’d imagined how happy she would be there, looking at all the adoring faces. Now she’d be there, trying to figure out where the Prince was, and hoping Areon would die quickly.

  No, she thought. I can’t see him die. I… I don’t want to be Irmela.

  ***

  Areon finally got up from the floor.

  Oh.

  By god, he’d grown up. He was a head taller than Violet, which meant she had to look up into his flashing gray eyes. There was some weird emotion there, but she couldn’t understand it. Hopefully she’d been cruel enough, because Violet doubted she could manage another rebuke. She was having too much of a hard time denying that the man before her sent shivers down her spine. A plain, average man once, perhaps, but now a full-grown warrior, powerful and strong. Yet the eyes that had always smiled when looking at her were hurt now.

  Good, she told herself. He should expect no sympathy from Violet, if she’d told him very clearly that she didn’t want him to die for her. Areon’s death wouldn’t be on her conscience.

  He was so close to her. Only once in her life had a man been that close to her and that too had been Areon. The reason he’d been driven away, though Violet had hid some of the details from the Overlord. Areon wouldn’t have lived if her father had known that the guard had knocked her over by accident, clumsy as he was. For a long moment they’d lain there, him staring into her eyes. The veil had fallen from her face and her hair had probably been messy, but he’d still been stunned. Violet had made sure her father didn’t kill the guard, but she couldn’t stop the Overlord from driving her friend away.

  She’d spared his life by lying. She didn’t know why, but she wanted him gone. No one was supposed to see or touch her before her champion. She should have felt spoiled, ruined, but all she had felt was a hunger...

  Before he left, Areon had snuck in to see her for the last time. To that day, Violet had no idea how he’d managed that. The calayas were kept in total security, but Areon had somehow slipped through – he really had the luck of demons, like she said. Just like he’d stumbled on top of her, he’d stumbled through her guards.

  He’d sworn he would return for her tournament, to compete for her hand. Violet had spared no words to tell him a firm no. She had never wanted to see him again, just because she wanted to see him so badly it ached.

  He had been the man, the name she had ripped from her heart – obviously not well enough. In the years that passed, she hadn’t allowed her mind to drift back to the man who had made her laugh. She’d banished those feelings with many others. A proper calaya didn’t miss her guards – she looked forward to her true champion.

  And now he was there, against her wish. Standing before her, taller and stronger, and only inches away. For a horrified, guilty moment Violet thought he might kiss her. Horrified by the idea of Areon spoiling her for real. Guilty because a part of her wanted to lean in and take the kiss herself. They were so close she could feel his breath on her lips, but he didn’t touch her.

  Instead he seemed to wake from a daze and, suddenly, Violet heard the increasingly more insistent calls.

  “Oh damn,” Areon said, the smile back on his lips. “I’m late. So are you, I think. Fuck, I should have asked for directions when Forial was dragging me around like a punching bag. I’ll see you soon.”

  Violet watched him run in the general direction of the arena, where a thousand voices roared. She stumbled towards her stage, ignoring the glares from the other girls and from the Overlord. As much as she could tell, Irmela’s gaze was concerned. She took her place on the stage, still obscured by light, and removed her veil.

  Completely unlike her, she didn’t even check to see if her hair was alright or if the dress fell like she’d been practicing for years. Violet had planned for all of it, even spending hours before a mirror trying to figure out her best angle. Irmela had rolled her eyes at her, but she hadn’t cared. And now... Every carefully made preparation was forgotten and the ghost of the kiss she hadn’t tasted lingered on her lips.

  The light disappeared and they were revealed to the crowd and the champions. No amount of willpower could have stopped her from looking for Areon in the mass. When she finally found him and their eyes met, the skip of her heartbeat confirmed everything Violet had feared.

  Oh god no, she thought. Not you.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The sky above the arena was dark and cloudless.

  Areon pressed through the gathered warriors to find a spot that let him stand on his own two feet instead of on someone else’s. It brought a smile to his lips to see the sky so threatening. He couldn’t put it past the Overlord to have known the weather. It was completely within the realm of possibilities that the bastard had chosen this particular night to hamper their vision.

  With seven calayas in play, no one expected it to be easy.

  He had to admit that the meeting with Violet had shaken him a bit. In all the long years, he’d never really forgotten the incident that had gotten him banished, far from it, really. From time to time, it came back to him more vivi
dly, but never like that – no wonder, with Violet so close to him as to almost be in his arms.

  He couldn’t let it distract him. Not with a very pissed Overlord, a deadly arena and quite a few very dangerous men standing around him with sharp blades and their minds on the prizes.

  Speaking of which, it seemed that Violet had finally made it to the stage as well. A grin tugged Areon’s lips upwards at the idea of making a calaya late for her own tournament. A victory of its own? Quite so.

  He watched with all the rest as the lights surrounding the girls faded, leaving only enough illumination for them to see the prizes.

  His silent gasp was drowned out by the collective intake of breath. It was loud enough to be heard although no one in particular made much noise – quite a few had forgotten to close their mouths, it seemed.

  Areon was thankful for the run-in with Violet. It prepared him, just a bit, for the full impact. Even so, he couldn’t tear his eyes away – not that he wanted to.

  All seven were beautiful. It felt ridiculous to say that about girls who were born to be maddening, but it was still the only apt word. In truth, no one said anything. All of their feelings would be channeled to the edges of the blades and the bottomless drive, fighting to claim one of them as their own.

  No doubt all seven were gorgeous beings, but Areon knew every man present had their eyes set on one. He cast a look at all of the girls from the corner of his eye. The glimpses had not been enough, but the introductions seemed to have done them justice. Halley smiled, while Pearl grinned. Lavie could barely contain her enthusiasm. Marelle seemed serious and Maige was searching the crowd for her favorite. Olive drew most of the attention, it seemed. She really was an otherworldly beauty. No wonder her parents had hidden her away.

  Even so, Areon’s attention belonged to Violet alone.

  It wasn’t something he’d have shared with anyone, but people talked and rumors got around. And what he’d heard of her in the recent years was fairly unanimous – the sweet girl he’d known had turned into an uptight bitch.