Sign Here for Horns: A SciFi Alien RomCom (Vandalar Concubines Book 1)

by V. K. Ludwig

  “I don’t understand.” This makes no sense, and panic clasps at my throat. “She asked me if other females ever required me to assure them of my feelings. Say that I love them. Care for them.”

  “Oh?” Her spine straightens, and a long nail taps on her lap. “And what did you say?”

  “That, as a saikh, I say whatever I think will—”

  “Please them,” she moans on an exhale, the way she finishes my sentence drowning my lungs in despair. “Yeah, you didn’t push that trigger. You fucking punched it.”

  And I still don’t get it. “Steph, you Earth females are so different from our own. Can you explain? By the Three Suns, draw a picture if that’s what it takes.”

  “Jax, do you have—” A chain of muffled whomp-whomp-whomps, and Steph stares at the ceiling, followed by a shout. “Stop dragging the bed across the room! You’re gonna scratch the hardwood floor!”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Please tell me you didn’t cuff Varac.”

  “What else can I do?” She throws her hands up in a notion of pure innocence. “I shock him, and you guys look at me as if I’m nuts. So I cuff him to the bed, avoiding that shock, mind you, and now you’re giving me shit about that too?”

  “Okay, back to Lilly,” I say. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  A surreal chuckle worms through my chest. “Clearly I did, otherwise she wouldn’t want me gone.”

  “That’s exactly why she wants you gone. You’re too perfect, Jax, and she fears that, eventually, you’ll walk out on her as well.”

  Never in my life. “Because Nick walked out on her?”

  “He hurt her bad, Jax, but not because he walked out on her,” she says. “It’s the way he did it. The night before, I had them both over for dinner. He literally told me over pot roast and red wine that he can’t wait to paint that third bedroom for their first child. Everything was perfect. Less than sixteen hours later, Lilly called and sniffed in the phone. He literally left a bucket of half-mixed cement in the drive, walked in the kitchen, packed a bag, told her he’s been unhappy for a while, and left.”

  Ouch.

  Lilly mentioned something similar, but I didn’t expect this. It must have hurt bad, planning a family, thinking that everything was perfect—

  “Veking shit. She’s scared that it isn’t real,” I mumble into my coffee, staring at the frothy-brown bubbles at the center while snippets of memories form a bigger picture.

  Is everything you do about pleasing the female? You have every right to be upset. Is there anything that ever bothers you about me?

  I just want Jax.

  Lilly’s words swirl through my head, turning me dizzy at first before everything calms into clarity. My stomach turns rock hard. For days, she gave me a chance to be myself. Jax. The male who wants to sink his teeth into her flesh. Instead, I continued being her saikh, being so veking perfect I ruined it all.

  “When she burned your food, did that piss you off?”

  I place my coffee onto the counter and nod. “Yes.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “No.”

  “And what she said about keeping you until the harvest?”

  “It hurt right in here,” I say and pound a fist against my chest. “And I didn’t tell her that either. That’s why she expects me to walk out on her, and she’s avoiding it by kicking me out first.”

  “Meh.” Steph gives a shrug and slips off the counter, filling herself a glass of water from the fridge across. “She’s jaded, but not entirely insane. I think the far bigger problem is that you apparently told her you never allowed yourself to fall in love with one of your females.”

  “By the heat of Heliar,” I groan into my palm, my skull pounding. “That’s why she asked me about what I answered to those females.”

  Because she wanted to know how much she could trust my words if she asked if I have feelings for her. And stupid me stepped right into that trap, making her feel as if all this between us is nothing but a saikh doing a mighty good job.

  “I should have told her of my feelings,” I say and glance at Steph. “But she wouldn’t have believed me, right?”

  “Probably not.”

  I slip off the stool, legs screeching over the floor at the force. “I have to get back to her.”

  “And if you want to be particularly convincing, then you’ll stomp through the mud before marching straight inside, and ask her what’s for dinner as you throw yourself on the couch with a burp, and…”

  She says more after that, but I’m already out the door. I jump into the truck, pushing the engine straight into high gear, praying the fusion panels won’t give up on me.

  I sense every single pound of my pulse throbbing inside my cuts, which sends a tingle across my skin. She wants Jax? I’ll give her my everything, with all the flaws and imperfections. But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell when one shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

  Pulling out of the hover lane, I park at the trading center, and follow along the dark alleys in search of that place selling imported wares from Lilly’s solar system. Nutella. Brown tub. White lid. She devours that stuff whenever she isn’t feeling well.

  But by the time I finally reach the door, the store behind the windows lies dark. The entire area is death silent.

  Save for that footstep behind me.

  I spin around, and scales push into my periphery. A dull pain clashes against the side of my head, funneling deep into my skull where it takes on the shape of a stab into my brainstem.

  Everything spins.

  My cheek hits the cold ground.

  Grit digs into my skin, and everything blurs into blackness, accompanied by the sound of a body dragging over the ground.

  Twenty

  Lilly

  Something’s wrong with the coffee.

  I stare out the kitchen window and take another sip, my gums clenching at the off taste. Too bitter. Too acidy. And then it hits me like a bitchslap: it’s the first coffee I’ve made in weeks.

  Jax does it a lot better.

  My stomach complains over skipped proper dinner, and things don’t look better in terms of breakfast. Muscles tense, nerves fried, all I can do is anchor burning eyes to that empty spot where my truck is supposed to be.

  Twice I asked him not to. Now that motherfucker stole my ride, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not really.

  I pour the nasty brew down the drain and place the mug into the sink. Then I pick it up again and put it in the dishwasher, a motion so simple it shouldn’t ache my muscles this much. Certainly not the one beating out-of-rhythm inside my chest. Jax won’t be back to load the dishwasher ‘just right.’

  Because I ran him off.

  What was I supposed to do, though? Sit him down and confess my feelings to a guy whose conditioned response would be a lie? Way to embarrass myself.

  But what if Jax had feelings for me?

  My mind trails back to all those times he held me, stroked my hair, and smiled at me. How he trembled when he came inside me for the first time, staring down at me as if… as if he wanted to stay like that forever.

  Perhaps he would have.

  Guess we’ll never find out.

  I peel myself out of my shirt, stained with whatever kind of junk I fed myself last night in that glorious carb-infused pity-party, and drop it to the ground.

  The door rattles, and I swing an arm over my tits before I turn around. Steph stands at the door, turning on the knob again, followed by frantic knocks on the window.

  I hurry over and unlock, jumping back just in time to dodge the door. “What are you doing here this early?”

  “Get dressed,” she says, hands frantically waving me toward the hallway. “Jax is sitting in a cell at the slave trader.”

  Now I’m confused. “W-what?”

  She pushes me into my bedroom and rummages through my closet. “He came to my place last night, all shaken and stuff because you kicked him out.”

  “
I didn’t… he just got up and—”

  That cutting glare she sends over her shoulder shuts me right up. “You have no idea how much that guy loves you, Lilly.”

  A gulp lodges in my throat. “He said that?”

  “Kind of. But on my way here, Varac confirmed that Jax confessed it to him.”

  My heart gives one massive whomp as if it’s performing a reboot. “Wait. Why the hell is he in a cell again?”

  She grabs a green summer dress, bunches up the fabric, and pulls it over my head, essentially dressing me. “How the fuck would I know? I went there this morning to see if Keg’rik has another Vandalar.”

  “To replace Varac?”

  “What? No!” A brow arches high as she works my hands into the sleeves as if I’m a doll. “Varac is like carved from stone by God. I just figured some competition would spur him on. In any case, that Kokonian scumback led me straight to Jax’s cell. If that bruise on the side of his head is an indicator, I’d say Keg’rik kidnapped him.”

  Legs turn weak underneath me. “Why didn’t you tell me that he came to your place last night?”

  She tosses a pair of ballerinas in front of me. “Because I figured he would make-up-fuck your brains out all night, and probably for days to come, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “Oh my God,” I mumble and slip into my shoes, my stomach turning upside down. “Oh, my God. I have to get him out. That ass can’t just hit my Vandalar over the head and throw him back into that place.”

  “Well, he did,” Steph says, shoving me out the bedroom and toward the kitchen door. “Now, let’s get moving before someone else buys your Vandalar.”

  Something sticky infests my core, and a wave of jealousy crashes down on me. I’ll punch any female wanting to grab Jax.

  “Wait!” I hurry over to the living room and grab the loaded shotgun leaning in the corner. “I’m not going to pay a second time for him. He’s not a slave, Steph. I freed him.”

  “Sugar bean, you can’t walk around Agari II with a shotgun. War’s over, and this isn’t the Mexican desert. They’ll freaking deport you off-planet.”

  “You’re right. One second.”

  I put the shotgun back in its rightful place and run back into my bedroom. A weapon half my height isn’t the best accessory for a flowing summer dress with palm-tree print, anyway.

  So I grab my Glock 9mm from inside the nightstand and the extended magazine beside it, right along with holster shorts from my dresser. You never know…

  I walk over to the couch and bunch up my dress, slipping my feet into that nude, oversized thing. “Let me gear up really quick.”

  “With granny panties? That’s not the way to take your man back, girl.”

  “Not granny panties,” I say and get up, holstering my Glock between my thighs. “Concealed carry. Let’s go!”

  “You have to sit in the back,” Steph says as we approach her car.

  I climb onto the back seat and close the door. Sure enough, Varac is sitting in the passenger seat, hands tied to the headrest’s metal rod.

  I give a quick pat to his shoulder. “She’s not usually like that.”

  He offers a grunt in response.

  Steph backs up over my flower bed, fusion panels probably killing my beautiful petunias with a wave of heat. “Tell her.”

  Varac makes a noise at the back of his throat, followed by, “He said it’s impossible not to love you.”

  “Then why didn’t he tell me?”

  “Love is a dangerous emotion, Lilly,” he says. “Not just for a saikh, but any Vandalar male.”

  At my next blink, fat tears lodge from my eyes, and my ribs refuse to expand for another inhale. Jax was so excited when he came home last night, showing off his new kuchi. And what did I do? Squished it. Dismissed the pain he probably went through. For me.

  “Come on, Steph! Hurry!”

  “I’m driving as fast as I’m allowed,” she snarls over her shoulder. “May I remind you that I have a male tied to my seat, and you’ve got a gun poking from your pussy. Can’t get worse than that if the peacekeepers stop us for any reason.”

  The drive to the slave market takes half a lifetime, and I’m out the door even before Steph pulls into her parking spot.

  “Where is he?”

  “All the way down the main aisle,” Steph shouts behind me. “Third row to the left.”

  I run into the building and rush past Keg’rik’s office, the familiar scent of sweat and adrenaline pushing into my nostrils once more.

  Males pace their cages, some horned, some scaled, all equally desperate to get out, hurrying toward the forcefield the moment they lay eyes on me. Never in my life did I expect to walk between those cages again, and certainly not to free the slave I fell in love with.

  Behind me, Keg’rik’s deep voice resonates the massive building. “No customers are allowed down here without my presence!”

  I thrust into a sprint, heart pounding.

  Row one.

  Row two.

  I turn left into row three, soles squeaking over the polished concrete floor. My pupils dart from left to right and back again. Scales. Feathers. Scars.

  My feet stumble to a halt, and I turn toward the platform, chest heaving from exhaustion. And there, sitting on the ground with his knees clasped against his chest, is Jax, staring at god-knows-what on the floor.

  “Jax!” I jump onto the platform, and the forcefield gives way but hums louder in warning the closer I get. “I’m so sorry…”

  The moment his eyes catch mine, he jumps up and stands straight, naked and glorious, palms reaching out for me. But their warmth doesn’t infuse my skin, their fingers don’t twirl my hair. Instead, he frantically pushes them along the barrier, his lips moving non-stop, but I can’t hear a single thing.

  “Woman!” Keg’rik bites out behind me. “You will return with me—”

  “You had no right to steal him off the streets and throw him in here,” I shout, finger pointing at the purple bruise right at the base of Jax’s horn. “I took his collar off. He’s a free Vandalar!”

  Scaled hands lift in an appeasing manner. “Saikhs are in short supply, woman. Nobody cared for the two males I had for several moon cycles. Then I sold both, and another female came to inquire.”

  “So you hit them over the head to stock up? This isn’t some hillbilly dwarf planet. Last time I checked, I was on Agari II. We have laws here, and you will release him right now!”

  “Yeah, release him!” Steph shouts from behind him, both hands anchored to her hips.

  Keg’rik clasps his hands behind his back, that devious smile coming to his face turning my mouth dry. “As far as I am concerned, this Vandalar never left my premises.”

  “Bullshit,” I snarl. “I bought him weeks ago.”

  His smile tugs into a self-satisfied grin. “Did you indeed? In that case, I am sure you have no trouble procuring the signed contract issued at purchase? Your ownership claims are null and void without it, as are your claims to have set him free.”

  “I have it at home.”

  Do I, though?

  That piercing chill starting at my nape and running down my spine says different. Oh. My. God. I am such an idiot. No wonder Keg’rik’s smile refuses to go away. That contract? I crunched it into a ball and threw it against his head the day he didn’t return my money.

  Steph steps up beside me, arms crossed in front of her chest. “I’m sure we can find a solution to this?”

  Hell yes, we can.

  I gather the hem of my dress, pull out the Glock, and point it straight at his scaled muzzle. “You open that cage right now and return my boyfriend.”

  Keg’rik throws his hands up, lips peeling back from a set of… impressive fangs. “You will steal from me, woman? One voice command and the authorities will—”

  “Alright, wait up,” Steph calls out, finger tapping over the hologram on her com. “Keg’rik, you are a businessman, male, aren’t you? How much for the Vandalar?”
>
  I stomp the ground. “Steph! You can’t pay him for something he picked up from the street like roadkill.”

  “Sugar bean, I would love for you to shoot him. Really, I would. But I’ve got no time to go to the station, give statements, appear before the High Court, yadda, yadda…” Her eyes fall to Keg’rik, manicured nail hovering over the com on her wrist. “How much for the Vandalar?”

  Keg’rik lowers his hands. “Five-thousand credits.”

  “Five… what the fuck,” I shout, trigger finger itching. “That’s, like, six times as much.”

  “Supply and demand, woman.”

  “It’s fine.” Steph swirls the hologram to transfer the credits. “Now open that cage, lizard.”

  With one swipe of his hand, the hum of the forcefield dies into silence, and the world falls away from around me.

  I turn, eyes immediately catching with Jax’s. My muscles contract all at once, but I push past the fear of betrayal and rejection. I carefully reach my hand to the wound between temple and base of his horn.

  “Jax.”

  Such a short name and my voice is cracking.

  Tell him!

  Don’t be such a coward.

  I take a deep breath. “I… I love you. And I’m sorry for trying to send you away, but I got scared, and… was afraid that you don’t feel anything for me. That this is all just an illusion.”

  His eyes crinkle at the corners.

  Yup, he deserves much more than that silly excuse.

  “Whatever imperfections you might have hidden, there’s no doubt in my mind you’re an amazing guy. And I would like to be with him. Find out what he likes and dislikes.”

  He continues staring.

  “Fuck, Jax…” My weight shifts from one foot to the other. “Look, I know I messed up, but now would be a good time for you to say something.”

  He tilts his head and pushes into the caress of my hand, rasping, “Ik elster uk. Ik burde ha fortalt uk det.”

  “What the fuck,” I bark over my shoulder. “I’m pouring my heart out here, and you removed his language chip?”

  “He will receive a new one,” Keg’rik assures.