Entered in the Alien Bride Lottery

by Margo Bond Collins

  “I am. I’m majoring in biochemistry.” They both stared at me blankly. “I’m studying the effects of .”

  Assuming I don’t end up trapped in a forced marriage to an alien.

  “I am a guardsman at the Prince’s Residence on the southern continent,” Banana-Man said.

  Oh, thank heavens. Apparently, he was one of those guys who asked a question only so he could answer it himself. That could be useful. If I could get him talking about himself, maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything at all.

  “I’m wondering,” Cav said, tilting his head to address Banana-Man, “how often has the prince been in residence in, say, the last five years or so?”

  Banana-Man whipped his head around to glare at Cav.

  Interesting response. I didn’t know what kind of significance the question might have. After all, I hadn’t ever really anticipated being here. I knew some girls studied Khanavai culture as if their lives depended on it. But those were the ones who generally volunteered for the Bride Games. All I wanted to do was go home.

  “His Royal Highness may not have been in residence often, but we are expected to keep his home in perfect order for when he does arrive.” Banana-Man’s tone had turned haughty, as if he were offended.

  Ooh. This could be interesting.

  I took a bite of my food and settled in to enjoy the show. I almost wished I had popcorn. Someone needed to introduce the Khanavai to that tradition. I might not know a lot about Khanavai culture, but I had watched enough of the games on television in previous years to know that there was some kind of verbal sparring going on.

  I wished I had Vos Klavoii’s commentary running over everything that was happening.

  Yep. I definitely liked watching the Bride Games more than I like participating in them.

  “Oh, I’m certain of it,” Cav said. “Just as those of us on patrol have to keep our ships ready to fight the Alveron Horde at any moment.”

  Oh. I got it. Cav was a soldier and Banana-Man wasn’t. I had forgotten how much that meant to these warriors.

  Okay. Maybe I could play this game, after all.

  I picked up a long strand of some Khanavai pasta-like thing that was slightly sweet and a little sour, took a bite, chewed and swallowed, and then leaned forward. “Tell me, Cav, as a military man, are you away on missions quite a lot?”

  The corner of his lips tilted upward, revealing a dimple in my blue suitor’s cheek. “That is often the case, yes. Of course, Command Central prefers for mated warriors to spend more time on the home front.”

  “Really? I didn’t know your commanders cared so much for your happiness.”

  “It’s less about our happiness than about Khanavai survival. That’s the whole reason for the Bride Games,” Cav replied. “Our job is to repopulate our planet. They certainly wouldn’t want to send me on too many missions until I had plenty of time to make sure I helped with that.” He leaned toward me, that sexy grin and the heat in his eyes matching up with his emphasis on the word help in a way that left me in no doubt of what he meant.

  Heat flashed through my belly, and my nipples tightened at the thought of spending time with Cav, doing nothing but having tons of sex.

  Dammit, Natalie. You are here to lose, not to get laid.

  How many times was I going to have to remind myself of that?

  Banana-Man jumped in. “Of course, as a guardsman, I would always be home.”

  I didn’t even bother to glance at him. Cav’s gaze held me entranced.

  “And there are some officers who are granted special permission to bring their mates aboard with them,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “So as to ensure plenty of mating time.”

  My gaze kept dropping from his eyes to his mouth. Suddenly, I couldn’t quit thinking about that kiss in the hallway.

  He was gorgeous, and he was teasing me. And damned if my body wasn’t responding — more than I ever wanted it to. If I had been here to actually find a mate, I could have fallen into that stare of his forever.

  Instead, I dragged my attention away from him by sheer force of will.

  “Tell me,” I said to Banana-Man, “what is a typical day at the Prince’s Residence like?” Not that I cared, but I needed to find a way to block my body’s reaction to Cav. Besides, as long as Banana-Man was talking, I didn’t have to. All I had to do was make encouraging noises periodically while I shoveled food into my mouth. I didn’t even taste it. For that matter, I didn’t hear anything that Banana-Man said.

  Because although I could pretend to be fascinated by Banana-Man, my entire attention was riveted on Cav. Just a few feet away from me, Cav reflected every bit of my physical right back at me, like a furnace burning hot enough to make me break out in a sweat.

  Yes, he was sexually attractive. Fine. I could admit that. But it wasn’t enough. I had a degree or three to finish—and for that matter, dates to finish with David.

  I murmured something noncommittal to Banana-Man’s long-winded description of the exact times and routes he took around the palace when he did his guard duty.

  This man would be mind-bogglingly dull on any planet.

  I glanced up and saw Cav watching me with a wicked gleam in his eye—one that I was certain did not bode well for me. As the blue alien opened his mouth to say something, I shot to my feet, my eating utensils clattering onto the plate in front of me.

  “This has been a lovely luncheon,” I said, brushing my white pants free of creases. “I understand I will see you both later today.”

  Dammit. Don’t remind them about what games come next.

  Cav flashed that mischievous grin of his—the same one he’d given me in the hallway earlier. One that said he knew what I was doing, and I amused him.

  Banana-Man just looked confused.

  I really need to figure out his name before I see him again.

  “The pleasure has been all mine,” Cav said, executing a perfect bow. If not for his bright blue skin and enormous size, he could have passed for a gentleman in one of those historical dramas my mother had loved to watch when I was younger.

  Banana-Man scowled and finally stood, as well, copying Cav. “Yes,” he said shortly. “A pleasure.”

  I turned and opened the door behind me, sliding out into the hallway and shutting the door. I leaned my head against the doorframe and breathed in deeply.

  It had not been my most graceful exit ever. But at least I had cut the lunch date short. They couldn’t make me stay, right?

  I headed down the hallway back toward where Plofnid and Drindl had been, hoping I would find them soon.

  Everything on this station was filmed, right? Surely someone would let them know to come get me.

  After all, I had a spanking ceremony to prepare for.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cav

  She will be mine.

  Tiziani had obviously bored Natalie with his overly specific details about his job as a guardsman. Her reaction to me had been very different, particularly when I discussed mating. She was interested in me, no matter how often she proclaimed that returning to her planet was her true goal.

  I was halfway there.

  All I had to do was coax her to me.

  By that afternoon, I was convinced that I could win her before the day ended.

  Plofnid and Drindl had invited me to join them in the green room for their viewing of the spanking ceremony. I knew that was a good sign. The handlers always ended up having quite a bit of sway with the judges and the brides. Inviting me to join them signaled Drindl’s and Plofnid’s approval of me as a mate for Natalie.

  Assuming, of course, it wasn’t part of the program planning to have them invite me. I certainly wouldn’t put it past Vos and his team to create drama where little existed.

  As I walked into the room, my heart pounded. Tiziani and I had drawn lots, and he had won the chance to be the first to participate in the spanking ceremony with Natalie. Just the thought of him touching her firm, round ass sent
shivers of rage racing through my body.

  He never should have matched with her. Even if they were physically compatible—which I didn’t actually believe—they were obviously not intellectually compatible. He had no sense of humor, whereas Natalie, despite her obvious anxiety about participating in the Bride Games, was overflowing with humor.

  She was absolutely perfect.

  And I did not want any other male touching her.

  By the time I moved to join Plofnid and Drindl on an overly soft seating arrangement, my jaw ached from clenching it.

  Drindl took one look at me and patted my hand gently. “All will be well, warrior Cav. You’ll see.”

  I certainly hoped she was right.

  I glanced around at the other groups sitting on the too-soft furnishing—mostly handlers, but a few warriors here and there.

  The name “green room” had always confused me, as it was not green at all. In fact, the walls were boring and white, designed to focus everyone’s attention on the viewscreens that took up most of the wall space.

  Everything in here was recorded. For that matter, practically everything in the entire station was. The humans who watched the Bride Games back on Earth were under the illusion that it was a live show. But an entire army of technical workers combed through video images to put together the most appealing entertainment they could think of. Because of that, there was actually about a two-hour delay between filming—the strange word humans used for creating visual images digitally—and broadcasting the games back to Earth.

  I only knew those specifics because one of the warriors who had gone through primary training with me had been obsessed with human entertainment, including the Bride Games. Not for the reason most Khanavai were interested—the hope of one day participating and being awarded a mate—but because the technical details fascinated him.

  Here in the green room, though, we were watching the games in real time. To get through all the games, they often had to be filmed simultaneously, so there were sometimes up to five different games running simultaneously—even though back on Earth, the humans would view them sequentially.

  And they were watched just as eagerly on Khanav Prime, as well as the various Khanavai outposts, I had to admit. I had spent many years catching portions of the games in between shifts aboard various ships I had been assigned to during my military tenure.

  Now, however, the last thing I wanted to do was watch my bride manhandled by a terminally boring guardsman.

  “Oh! There she is!” Drindl sang out, pointing at the viewscreen that opened directly across from us.

  Plofnid sat straight up, its legs stretching out in front of it barely reaching the edge of the cushion. It twirled its nose-braid around one finger nervously. “How do you think Natalie is going to react to this?”

  Drindl shrugged. “I’m not certain.” She turned to me. “Did you watch any of the earlier spanking ceremonies?”

  I shook my head briefly, focused intently on the screen displaying Natalie walking into a room not unlike this one, but with barren walls instead of viewscreens and a single chair in the center of the room, slightly raised on a dais as if it were a throne in a palace. Its cushions were red, almost the color of human blood. The color of Commander Eldron, come to think of it.

  I couldn’t help but hope the commander found a bride at some point. He was worthy of one. Tiziani was not.

  After the door closed behind her, Natalie took several steps into the chamber and glanced around. With a shrug, she moved over and sat in the thronelike chair, smoothing down the short skirt of the blue knit dress she wore. The fabric brushed the tops of her thighs. The chair didn’t dwarf her as much as the seating arrangements in the greenroom dwarfed Plofnid, but she still looked like a Khanavai child sinking into the soft padding of the chair.

  Or at least, she would have looked like a child, if not for her luscious curves.

  I wanted to gather her in my arms, sit down on the chair with her in my lap, and hold her close. An ache settled in my chest unlike anything I never felt before. I had heard all my life about Khanavai protective instincts, but I’d never experienced them until now. No more, at least, than those instincts could be roused by a youngling in danger or the like.

  This was something different. It was a determination to protect her from harm. It was the bond between mates flaring to life.

  And all I’d done so far was kiss her.

  On the screen, Tiziani walked into the spanking room.

  “That’s my chair,” he announced, his nostrils flaring at the perceived insult of Natalie taking his place.

  She stared at him coldly for a long moment. “I am not here because I want to be.”

  “But you are here. In my seat.”

  “I don’t know much about this spanking ceremony,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice betraying her nervousness. “Just that it’s supposed to remind the bride of her place in the relationship?”

  Tiziani nodded. “Yes. To ensure that you understand your place as a subordinate in our culture.”

  Irritation flashed across Natalie’s face and I couldn’t hold back my snort of satisfaction. Tiziani had just stepped in a flaming pile of etav droppings. He wasn’t simply a boring windbag. He was a stupid boring windbag.

  Natalie crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I think maybe we should change the ceremony.”

  Tiziani’s eyes narrowed. “Change it? This is the way it has been for thousands of years.”

  “Nonetheless, I think this time, I should spank you.”

  “What good would that do? I will not be the subordinate when we mate.”

  Natalie’s jaw tightened, and the cameras zoomed in on the hard look she gave him. “Maybe not, but I’m not going to be ‘the subordinate,’ either. Because we’re never going to mate.” She all but sneered the last word, and I chuckled, proud of my feisty bride.

  “You are required to participate in all the games,” Tiziani intoned, clearly quoting from the guidelines and bylaws—perhaps from the original Bride Alliance Treaty itself. “According to paragraph one-point-seven, subsection eight, every bride chosen in the lottery will complete all games to the judges’ satisfaction.”

  Her folded arms tightened over her chest. “I’m not doing this,” she said. “It is barbaric and horrific.”

  Tiziani took a threatening step toward her. “You might need a spanking more than any female I’ve ever met.”

  It was all I could do not leap through the viewscreen and drag him away from my Natalie. She was far too precious to allow him to put his hands on her.

  From her seat beside me, Drindl patted my hand again.

  But it didn’t matter. That brute was threatening my mate.

  A low growl escaped my throat.

  Drindl leaned over to whisper to me, probably trying to distract me from my anger. “There have been several brides who resisted this particular game today.”

  I glanced at her, torn between finding out what had happened and watching the scene unfolding on the screen in front of me.

  “It hasn’t been pretty,” Plofnid interjected, leaning around Drindl so it could see me.

  “One of the warriors was even disqualified for being overly harsh,” Drindl added.

  “Overly harsh?” I hoped I sounded as horrified as I felt. “What kind of warrior would be willing to harm someone so fragile as a human female?”

  “I heard that her resistance engaged his warrior instinct, and he hit her so hard that it caused blood vessels under her skin to break. She’s covered in…” Drindl closed her eyes, trying to remember the alien word.

  “Bruises,” Plofnid supplied.

  My stomach clenched as I looked back at the screen. Tiziani had begun trying to wrestle Natalie off the chair. No matter that she was tiny, she fought against him fiercely, hanging onto the arms of the throne with both hands and kicking him every chance she got.

  I wanted to jump up and cheer for her, but I managed to keep my composure. Rig
ht up until she landed a kick straight in his gonads. He doubled over in pain, and even though he deserved it, I winced in sympathetic pain.

  Tiziani let out a roar, doubling over, clutching himself for a moment. Natalie leaped from the chair and raced past him to try to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “The judges locked the rooms after some of the incidents this morning,” Drindl said, her long silvery fingers creeping up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide as she fretted over Natalie.

  “Personally, I think that was a terrible idea.” Plofnid shook its head in dire warning. “They should consider the liability.”

  Tiziani’s skin turned such a bright shade of yellow that it practically glowed, and veins popped up all over his body, throbbing visibly. With a snarl, he bent over and charged at Natalie, using his shoulder to slam into her stomach and knock the breath out of her. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist to pick her up off the chair, ripping her grip away from the arms. He spun around and sat down in the chair with a thump, grasping her struggling form and pushing her down until she was draped over his knees.

  Tiziani held her down with his forearm and flipped her skirt up to expose her round butt. She wore nothing but a scrap of underclothing, a choice I assumed had been made by the Games Administrator for their prurient appeal.

  Tiziani raised his hand, and a growl began rumbling deep in my throat. He brought his palm down against her ass, his bright yellow hand making contact with both cheeks at once. A loud crack sounded through the room.

  Natalie screamed in pain and redoubled her struggles. The growl that had been working its way up my throat burst out as a full-blown roar.

  A haze of purple clouded my vision, and I realized I was standing without having any recollection of getting to my feet.

  Tiziani raised his hand again. “You will behave in a manner befitting my mate,” Tiziani thundered. “The mate of a royal guardsman!” His hand cracked down again.