The Alien King's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron)

by Shea Malloy

  Mikaal owns all of this, she thought. She felt overwhelmed by the important connection she shared with a man like him. She was a simple, ordinary girl and she was unashamed of this fact. But standing there now, Megan was further reminded she did not belong in a place like this. So how could she stay? Even if the baby was hers too, how could she stay in a place she did not belong?

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” Megan answered quietly, her eyes roving over the alien inscriptions that crawled up the dividers between each window. “I can’t stay and raise this baby.”

  “You are where you are meant to be.” Suri said and Megan was ready to disagree when she continued, “Come, let me show you the gardens.”

  Megan hardly knew Suri, but she liked her friendliness. What a difference Suri was in comparison to Mikaal. The alien siblings were like night and day. Whereas Mikaal was dark and moody, Suri was bright and amiable. As they resumed walking, Megan thought that friendly company would definitely make her stay on the strange planet easier.

  When they exited the hallway, they came to an abrupt halt when they encountered a man standing before them.

  “Greetings, my Paera,” he said, pressing long fingers to his chest and bowing his head in Suri’s direction. Then his gaze slid to Megan. “And company.”

  The man stood tall, his skin pale. His eyes were so deep-violet they almost looked black. Yet his dark hair and indecipherable tattoos on his forearms made it clear he was of the same race as Suri and Mikaal.

  “Varrack.” Suri nodded once, her features unsmiling. “What brings you to the palace?”

  Varrack curved his hands behind his back, standing straighter. He was dressed similarly as Mikaal, though his blood red jacket contained far more adornments. Did he hold more power than Mikaal? She doubted it. His dark-eyed gaze held Suri’s before settling on Megan.

  “The klar has notified us of his impending fatherhood. I wished to be the first of the council to see the mother of my future ruler.” He extended a hand toward Megan and she grasped it awkwardly. His hand was warm and soft. Definitely not a man who’d ever endured hard labour. Or maybe, Megan thought, this Omaron planet has stellar moisturizer. She was startled when he raised her hand to press a kiss against her knuckles. “A stunning vision you are, my Yena. What is your name?”

  Megan’s face grew warm. Holy cow, what a charmer. It didn’t help matters that this Varrack guy was easy on the eyes—if she looked past the slicked back hair.

  “Megan. Megan Landay.”

  “A lovely name for a lovely creature.” He smiled as he relinquished Megan’s hand.

  “Indeed, she is,” said Suri, her tone frosty as she tugged Megan closer. “Your sister is well?”

  Varrack’s smile dimmed, becoming tight. “Yes. She visits the Eul Isles as we speak. As such, she would be unable to attend the announcement ceremony.”

  Megan shifted her gaze between the two of them. There was something going on beneath their false politeness. Always labeled the inquisitive one of her two sisters, Megan longed to find out more.

  Suri nodded. “Yes, of course. It is for the best she doesn’t attend. We wouldn’t want her to be reminded of her loss.”

  At that, Varrack dropped his smile completely. His face stony, he pressed his hand to his chest and murmured a cold goodbye. Dwelling on Suri’s words, Megan watched his tall frame receding. What was the announcement ceremony and why would Varrack’s sister not want to be there? She didn’t have to wait long to have her questions answered because Suri shook her head as they carried on walking.

  “I advise you to tread carefully with a man like Varrack,” warned Suri, a bitter tone to her voice that Megan understood all too well. It was the same tone she’d adopted when she’d told her sisters about her ex’s behaviour after discovering his cheating ways. “He is nothing but an opportunistic worm. It pleases me Mikaal ended his engagement with that man’s sister. I shudder at the thought of calling him kin.”

  “Mikaal was engaged?”

  Suri nodded. “Indeed. He ended it abruptly and has yet to state his reasons to anyone. Perhaps he saw in her the insincerity Varrack holds in his heart too.” Suri’s features grew somber. “A reminding of the ways of his mother, perhaps.”

  New questions blossomed in Megan’s head and when she opened her mouth to voice them, Suri forged on.

  “But we must not concern ourselves with dismal conversation. I will show you to the gardens, then prepare you for the announcement ceremony.”

  Megan furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

  “You carry the future leader of our great planet, my dear,” said Suri in excited tones. “And we must let everyone know of its existence.”

  7

  Mikaal

  “Zezvar did not do this.” Mikaal frowned at his army general and close friend, Jonnar. “He is not a traitor.”

  Jonnar leaned forward in his seat, his features serious. A rare sight. Since their boyhood days, Jonnar’s jovial disposition was as unrelenting as his mischievous ways.

  Even though Mikaal had temporarily decommissioned him from the rebellion fight, Jonnar wore his navy-blue military jumpsuit and heavy black boots, his dark hair cropped flat.

  “But he will be in the eyes of the council, Mikaal. It was his code used to unlock the vaults and request the video surveillance deletions.”

  “He is being implicated.”

  “Mikaal, he is a Lutvian. His kind are currently leading a destructive civil war. There is motive to the medic’s actions.”

  “He was my father’s closest friend. He would not help destroy what my father has worked so hard to build.”

  “He has to be counted as a suspect.” Jonnar’s voice hardened. “He has to be detained. When the council discovers this—”

  “They will not,” growled Mikaal, “because he is not a traitor.”

  Jonnar blew out a breath that turned into a soft chuckle.

  “Gods above, you’ve always been a stubborn bastard.” A mischievous glint formed in his blue-violet eyes as he leaned back into his chair with a smirk. “I thought you would be in a better mood now that you have a woman.”

  “She isn’t mine,” Mikaal grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “She merely carries my child.”

  “Which makes her yours.” Jonnar grinned. “A human, too. Weak, yes, but exotic. You lucky bastard.”

  Mikaal shook his head slowly. “She is infuriatingly stubborn, disobedient, unmannerly and insulting. I am far from lucky.”

  Jonnar laughed as he got to his feet. “She sounds perfect for you, my Klar.”

  “What will you do with the information you’ve learned?” asked Mikaal, ignoring his comment.

  Jonnar’s grin faded as he regarded Mikaal with reluctant understanding.

  “I will not disclose it to the council. Not yet. Zezvar’s code may have authorized the deletions, but someone in security did the work. I intend to find out who. Perhaps this person might lead us to the truth.”

  Mikaal nodded. “Good. I look forward to your report.”

  “Mikaal,” Jonnar’s voice grew quieter, “there is still a possibility Zezvar committed this crime. While you consider him kin, that does not mean he considers you the same.” With a quick bow, Jonnar left Mikaal alone with his thoughts.

  The day passed, the evening chasing away the daylight. Rising to his feet, Mikaal abandoned his desk in favour of his office’s balcony. Outside, the darkening sky cloaked the palace grounds in a gentle shadow, though the lighted walkway from the northern entrance afforded him a clear view of the arriving guests.

  The announcement ceremony.

  He’d completely forgotten. After the meeting with Jonnar, the rest of his day had been filled with even more meetings on other important matters and paperwork. A dull affair for a man once lauded as a powerful and deadly warrior. Where were the battles and the bloodshed and the fierce sense of triumph? The only fights he encountered these days were the petty bickering among staid politicians.r />
  Mikaal took a deep lungful of the cool evening air. Yet his mind did not calm. His thoughts returned to his discussion with Jonnar and their discovery.

  Zezvar is not a traitor. Of course not. Zezvar didn’t have the clearance to authorize video file deletions or access the vaults. Someone had used his code to implicate him.

  It was laughable to consider a man like Zezvar capable of such an act. Disturbingly intelligent and resourceful he may be, but Zezvar was like a child despite being three times his age. The medic was quirky, excitable and devoted every moment of his waking hour—and perhaps those dedicated to sleep—to his inventions and scientific work.

  His father, the former klar, had been the one to rescue Zezvar and his people from the tyranny of their planet’s king. So why would Zezvar commit such a betrayal? Had the medic intended to use his essence for scientific research? If that were the case, he would have come to him for approval.

  Or perhaps he is not what he seems. Maybe things had changed. The ongoing civil war between Zezvar’s people, the Lutvians, and the Omar people might have turned his mind to treachery in an attempt to aid in the Lutvian rebellion.

  He wasn’t sure what bothered him the most: the undeniable proof of seeing Zezvar’s code attached to vault access and video file deletion, or how quickly he questioned whether an esteemed member of the royal family for over 30 standard years had committed high treason.

  Returning to his office, Mikaal decided to focus on the immediate present. The matter with Zezvar would have to wait until after he’d slept on his thoughts. As he made his way to his chambers, Mikaal pondered on the fact that if Zezvar was the culprit to the break in, then not only was he the reason for his impending fatherhood, but also for his meeting Megan. Mikaal wasn’t sure whether he considered that a blessing or a curse.

  As usual, his guards greeted him with a respectful bow as the door slid open to admit him. He took a few steps into the room when the sight before him brought him to a stop. There stood Megan with Suri just behind her. No longer in her human attire, she was garbed in a royal gown—a sari—the light-grey colour covered in red-violet floral patterns. The top portion of the sari left her abdomen bare, yet the sheer material of the drape covered her, hinting at her soft, visible curves beneath. Her chestnut-brown curls pooled around her shoulders, a healthy glow gracing her fair skin.

  Gods above, she was stunning. He’d known all along she was a beautiful woman, but standing there at that moment witnessing her transformation from human to Omaron royalty underscored that fact. Fiery want accosted him. He yearned to order Suri out of his chambers before taking the human and her succulent body beneath all that fabric.

  “When I pin it here, it should keep the drape from sliding off your shoulders,” instructed Suri as her hands adjusted the set of the sari’s drape. She glanced up and caught Mikaal staring. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Hello, Mikaal.”

  Megan’s gaze shifted to meet his. She remained silent but her blue eyes shone bright with nervous excitement. They’d not spoken since the day before when her outburst had driven him away. But realizing his words had engendered that response and regretful for his reaction, he’d sent Suri to keep her company.

  Megan bit her bottom lip before releasing it and the action drew his attention to her mouth. Forcing his mind away from thoughts of tasting her lips, he looked at Suri instead.

  “How many are expected to attend tonight?”

  “A few.”

  “Be more specific.”

  “Two hundred and twenty-five.” She tapped her chin as she looked skyward. “Mother abhors gatherings so she won’t be attending.”

  Mikaal exhaled deeply. “That is far too many people, Suri.” The horrified look on the human’s face said she agreed.

  “Hardly. This is a momentous occasion! You should be surprised it’s not more.” Grasping Megan’s hand, Suri led her past Mikaal to the door. “Hurry and get dressed. We will wait for you in the east wing’s parlor so you can make the formal entry.”

  He was ready to comment that the formal entry was reserved for if he’d married Megan, but the two women left before he could utter a word. He supposed it didn’t matter. Ever since Megan’s arrival, many of the traditional rules were broken every which way.

  Once dressed, he grimaced as he fastened his cloak. The black, gold-embroidered material was heavy and cumbersome, hanging to the floor. He despised wearing the thing, but if the human saw fit to dress like royalty tonight then he supposed he should care to do so too.

  His arousal renewed as he thought of her beauty. When he met Suri and Megan in the parlor, he found himself unable to look away from her.

  “I will go first and announce you,” said Suri as she hurried down the long stairs, her teal-coloured sari billowing behind her.

  The muffled sounds of music and conversation below floated up, filling the silence between them. He approached her, holding her gaze captive. She stared up at him, her wide eyes brimming with uncertainty.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Not really.”

  A smile tugged at his lips from her sincerity.

  “All will be well.” He extended a hand for her to take. “Nothing and no-one will harm you in my presence.”

  “Right. The many hats you wear. My captor and my protector.” She slid her hand in his and Mikaal grasped it as he led her to the stairs. Her lips curved into a smile when she looked at him. “And let’s not forget: my ‘baby daddy’.”

  Mikaal gave her an amused look. Humans and their strange slangs, he thought as he guided her down the stairs. He would never admit it out loud, but he was just as nervous as she. Yet the warmth of her hand in his grounded him, and there was this quiet sense of unity between them. As they walked through the hall filled with people, he took pleasure in the way she pressed closer to him, seeking his protection.

  His announcement speech was short, and when he pressed his hand to her stomach in the traditional sign of acceptance of his heir, the many lords and ladies of Omaron cheered. But in that moment, Mikaal did not care about the approval of his people. With his palm flat on her stomach, her heat seeping through her sari onto his skin, her cheeks coloured pink and her blue eyes glittering like the rivers of the Niyalan valleys, only one thought coursed through his head.

  Quiet.

  Insistent.

  Not pertaining at all to the child growing inside her.

  Mine.

  ***

  During the night’s festivities, Suri held Megan prisoner as she introduced her to many of her friends. Mikaal tried to follow her every move, but a few of the wealthier lords accosted his attention. They seesawed between obsequious flattery on his kingship and complaints of the Lutvian rebellion.

  One of them dared to imply Megan’s human heritage as unsuitable to bear his heir. After Mikaal issued a veiled threat of divesting him of his riches for his unacceptable tongue, the man begged forgiveness and took his leave.

  Then the monitoring systems sounded an alarm. The music died away and the conversations came to a halt as the system warned that an unidentified life-source was under distress.

  The human.

  Alarmed, he searched wildly for the familiar colours of her sari. He was ready to turn the palace upside down when he spotted her slipping out through one of the side doors that led to the pools.

  He followed her. She paused along the walkway that divided the wide pool into two and leaned against one of the pillars. The alarm quieted. The muted sound of music and conversation from the hall returned, whereas the occasional chirp of night insects became more pronounced. A cool, gentle breeze disrupted the pool’s surface, curling her hair around her shoulders and the skirts of her sari around her legs. She took a deep breath as though she were freeing herself of some emotion or thought.

  “How can I protect you if you refuse to stay in my sights?” he said, standing behind her.

  She spun around, her shoulders lifted and tensed. Then her body grew rela
xed when she recognized him.

  “So everywhere I go you have to follow?”

  “Yes.”

  She frowned. “That’s a little overprotective don’t you think?”

  “There is no such concept where you are concerned.”

  “Me or the baby?”

  “Both of you,” he said quietly. She held his gaze for a moment before she looked away with a shrug.

  “I just came outside for some fresh air.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts as she leaned her head back against the pillar, her eyes closed. Mikaal’s gaze followed the column of her throat and the way her folded arms highlighted the shape of her breasts. He quickly brought his eyes up to her face when she opened her eyes and stood straighter. “It’s pretty overwhelming in there. I’ve never been great with crowds and it’s worse among a race of people I only discovered existed days ago. What was that sound just now, anyway?”

  “It is a physiological monitoring system,” he explained. “It continuously records the well-being of every life-form inhabiting the palace. When it detects abnormal activity mentally or physically, it sounds an alarm.”

  “So my anxiety earlier activated it?” Megan grimaced when Mikaal nodded. “I guess it’s helpful. But it seems invasive and annoying. What if I … stubbed my toe on a chair leg or something? Would it warn everyone of my terrible pain?”

  Mikaal regarded her with amusement. “It can if the threshold for abnormal activity were set that low, but it isn’t.”

  She remained silent for a moment, her forehead creased as she watched him. He waited for her to ask whatever question she clearly wanted to ask, and when she refused to do so, he prompted her.

  “What is it?”

  “I … uhh … well …,” she fidgeted. “I’ve always wondered how this impregnation thing worked on this planet. On Earth, people get pregnant from sex. And we …” She averted her gaze, her cheeks pink. “We never had sex.”

  His lips curved into a slow smile. “No, we have not.” He almost added, ‘Not yet,’ but managed to hold his tongue. “You were implanted with my essence. It is taken from me during a ritual by skilled elders.”