by V. K. Ludwig
Alien’s Beauty
Galactic Fairytales
V. K. Ludwig
Ink Heart Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by V. K. Ludwig
www.vkludwig.com
Cover Art: Covers by Combs
Editing: Tami Stark
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, locations, or any other element is entirely coincidental.
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Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, violent scenes, and topics that some readers may find disturbing.
Contents
If you want to see what’s underneath the apron…
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
Also by V. K. Ludwig
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One
With brown waves cascading from an elaborate updo, Ada Alvarez strolled across the reception deck with false importance in her steps, pretending she held power over a company where she didn’t even have a say about her own damn life.
A fake smile stretched her face, hiding the pain that lingered beneath.
All around her, investors munched on butter-brushed and sugar sprinkled baked goods, sucking the froth off their chocolate-powdered cappuccinos. They talked of quarterly statements she’d never seen, and discussed random trade agreements they’d never shared. Why had they even bothered to invite her?
Flute clasped between her manicured fingers, she sipped on the wine she’d paid for but wasn’t hers, staring out onto a planet that she would inherit… but somehow, wasn’t hers, either.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Blue-blooded and drop dead gorgeous, Gral favored his reflection in the window, stroking blond strands from a scaled forehead. “Somewhere in those clouds of gas and dust, the savage Aurani are hiding their mother ship, just waiting to attack our mines. We are blessed that my father convinced the United First Galaxies to supply more soldiers.”
High birth at its polished finest. Son of a senator. President of Osacore Mining Corp. That was Gral, the long-legged, articulate, and perfectly sculpted Klaxian male.
He placed a peck against her temple. “When we marry in your human tradition, I want it to be out here in front of the Novacroft Nebulae, so that all shareholders can watch them pale next to your beauty.”
His words sucked all the moisture from Ada’s mouth.
Another sip of Merlot.
When they married. Not if.
The idea roiled something underneath her navel, giving that wine a swish, acid licking her stomach lining. Nobody had ever asked her opinion on this match, probably because it made such perfect sense. Gral and her had shared some unmemorable nights, but weren’t compatible to conceive. A relief, really. A child would only give leeway to more manipulation.
She reached for the necklace Mom gave her before she passed, the gold-encapsulated osanium sphere vibrating between her fingertips. “I had no idea Xaleon is surrounded by these banks of nebulae.”
But then again, she had no idea about anything that stretched beyond the reaches of the Osacore Estate. From private tutor to governess, Dad had done a fine job keeping her locked away ever since…
She shivered.
Better not relive that memory.
“Perhaps you could take me to Xaleon for my birthday,” she said, stroking a palm down her arm to ease away unwelcome memories. “I’d like to visit the headquarters there. Talk to the miners. Get an understanding of how the machinery works.”
Gral offered a perfectly arched brow. “You don’t have to bore yourself with such tasks, Ada. Running Osacore will remain my burden, and mine alone.”
Numb fingers placed the empty glass onto the hovering tabletop next to her. “It’s my company. Shouldn’t I learn how to run it at some point?”
He offered a dismissive scoff, followed by a studied smile that almost put hers to shame. Almost. “Ada, my love. It took me eight years of studies to grasp intergalactic trade laws. Plus seven years serving your father as his business advisor to reach this level of competence. The mining business is a hostile one. There is no room for mistakes.”
“I can learn.” If someone would just finally teach her.
“Nobody questions your intelligence.” And yet, a trace of pity hushed over his features. “Your father failed to prepare you for this immense task of taking over his position as CEO.”
“He promised he would take me to Xaleon a week before he…”
What caused her voice to die into silence? That Dad never got to make good on his promise, or that Gral’s hand rubbing over her back held no comfort?
The galaxy’s most sought after bachelor cupped her cheek. “Imagine for a moment, dear one, that you would take over Osacore on your twenty-first birthday. With no knowledge of the internal structure. No training in intergalactic trade.”
“I would listen to your advice of course.”
His thumb trailed over her bottom lip. “Ah, yes. But power can be a vicious thing. What if you grow bored of listening to my suggestions? Your father worked hard to build an empire.” His smile quickly died into a scowl, followed by a pinning gaze and a low, foreboding voice. “Do you really want to see it fall apart?”
Her heart sunk, shriveling the moment it dipped into that puddle of acid welling at the bottom of her stomach. “No.”
“No,” he repeated with an overlong pout, almost as if he lectured a child. And, in a way, he was. “How about I will take you to Xaleon after our wedding? Hmm? Three days should suffice. The planet doesn’t have much beauty to offer.”
Her throat tied up. Nothing but a ball of frustration and self-pity clogging her esophagus. She might have been naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. What better way for Gral to keep power over the company than to marry the clueless heiress?
And what other choice did she have? He would never accept her as the new CEO. Without him, she would probably throw Osacore into bankruptcy within a week, and then what?
Company gone meant home gone, because dad had been stupid enough to claim the estate as a business asset. She would be on the streets with no money. No family. None that remembered her, anyway.
“Don’t worry yourself about the company.” Gral placed a kiss onto the back of her hand. A sweet gesture that might have been considered charming, if it wasn’t for the way his gaze flicked to the slender blonde over at the buffet. “You just be your beautiful self and smile at investors.”
That acid bubbled up and swept onto the back of her tongue, lodging pity and frustration until it went down her throat like a brick pushed sideways.
Right.
Smile.
She took a deep breath. “Please excuse me. I need some fresh air.”
Expensive blue silk cocooned swaying hips. Long, elegant legs paraded away. And blackened lashes framed green eyes. Ada was the embodiment of beauty — and not much beyond that. Just the pretty figurehead for Osacore Mining, with no purpose; no responsibility other than to fucking smile.
She hastened past shareholders, investors, and politicians, the clicking of her heels matching the beat of her heart. Why was she so powerless over her own life?
When she reached the foyer of the cruise vessel… more shareholders. The service hallway beside her bustled with androids and members of the crew. Good grief! Wasn’t there a single place on this ship where she could just frown, snarl, and distort her face into something ugly?
With nowhere to hide, she settled for the wall of windows across from the foyer. The metal rail pressed cold against her palms as she stared out through the glass. No nebulae on this side of the cruiser. Only blackness.
Hand dragging over the smooth rail, she paced along the window. There was no good reason why she couldn’t lead Osacore. Theoretically…
She needed information. Which planets did they trade with? What was the reach of applications for the precious mineral they mined on Xaleon? How much did the United First Galaxy subsidize? When did the company —
Her core chilled at a scream.
She swung around.
What the hell?
People poured from the reception deck into the foyer in panicked waves. High-pitched screams shattered from the marble walls, and an undercurrent of concerned barks and mumbles rippled from within the crowd.
Women stumbled around in their heels. They dug fingers into whichever suit was in reach. Their faces carried frowns and fear, the white of their eyes so visible even at this distance.
“Protect the heiress!”
Ada flinched.
Protect her from what?
A shaky hand slipped off the rail. She braced her heel against concrete, readying herself to thrust into a sprint. If everybody ran, she better do the same.
Until a set of horns, ridged and raven black, pushed into her periphery.
Ada’s lungs faltered to a halt.
So did her legs, paralyzed.
Aurani warriors!
At least two dozen of them, bare-chested, spreading thick, leather-clad thighs into a wide stance. Their horns curled back from right above their temples. Some pressed concave blades to the throats of politicians.
Between the group, a waiter lifted a hydraulic-powered arm. His pointer flicked her way, sealing her fate. “That’s her.”
Time slowed to a terrifying crawl.
Dark fog pushed into Ada’s vision, blurring out everything around her until her pupils focused on him. The tallest of the Aurani males, his broad chest tying into perfectly sculptured muscles ridging his stomach. And he stared right at her.
He cocked his head, making the end of his onyx braid fall over his shoulder. It dangled there, tied at the end with what appeared to be a string of leather.
He curled one side of his upper lips into a snarl, split in half by a hideous scar that ran all the way up to his temple. “Kish’ne!” Get her!
Knees turned wobbly underneath her, and Ada stumbled back. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.
Liquid adrenaline rushed into her veins, powering her first step. She had to get away from them. Had to hide. The service hallway!
She turned and sprinted down the narrow corridor, dodging panicked crew members. Heavy footfalls resonated from behind with gut-wrenching thomp-thomp-thomps. They were after her.
When she reached a metal staircase, she gripped the skirt of her dress. Lifting it up so her heels wouldn’t get caught in the fabric, she clip-clopped down into the belly of the vessel.
Humidity and traces of sweat clung to the depleted air, and the bitter smell of burnt oil soon mixed into it. Ada weaved around buzzing machines and hissing engines, tremors ravaging her body. She needed a place to hide. Wait this out until someone sent help.
A door led her into what looked like the engine room. Thick metal wire covered fusion panels which hummed underneath the metal floor. Four large cylinders paddled in perfect synchronization, each with less than two feet distance between them. Perfect.
She could squeeze in there and make herself small, perhaps lie down on the ground. With all the buzzing of engines and clanking of chains, her breathing wouldn’t give her away either.
Weak legs wobbled toward the gap between two cylinders, the metal floor vibrating more and more underneath her. They were coming.
The moment Ada slipped between the two massive machines, something yanked on her dress. Crk! A whiff of humid air licked around her calves and up between her thighs. The gap where cylinder met floor panel ate away on blue silk.
Her stomach turned rock-hard. Fuck it. She would make it through this — dressed or butt-naked. Didn’t matter.
Thick and gooey, oil and lubricant smeared over her legs, her hair, and the leftovers of her dress. The cylinders powered up and down, up and down, rubbing it in, the stench dizzying.
Crouching down, Ada made herself smaller, her heart beating so loudly it almost drowned out the grinding of metal and occasional hiss of steam. She backed up, deeper and deeper into the darkness. In front of her, the silk of her dress stuck to the lubed cylinder, dancing up and down. Fuck!
She had to get it off or they would find her, no doubt.
But the moment she crawled forward, a shout in their language disabled her muscles. “Ko nuwe’ne.” I can smell her.
Breath burst in and out of her lungs at such speed, everything blurred around her. She had to stop hyperventilating. Concentrate on all that crisis training dad had paid for.
With all the willpower she could muster, Ada slowed her breathing until her vision returned crisp and sharp. She needed an escape route in case they found her.
Lowering her head down, she glanced back between her legs. The torn fabric blocked most of the view, but it appeared she could back out from there and keep on running. Not a detailed plan but better than nothing.
A leather boot hit the ground.
She flinched at the sound but quickly pressed her lips shut before a scream escaped. In front of her, the scarred Aurani warrior pulled the greasy silk off the cylinder.
He glanced around, bright golden irises scanning the engine room. “We did not come to kill you.”
No, of course not.
They came to take her, thinking she was more valuable alive. That guy couldn’t have been more wrong. Those days where Dad would quickly wire money across solar systems in exchange for her release? Those were over.
He barked a command and stepped out of view.
Ada released a long breath, sternum pressed against her bunched-up knees. If she waited long enough, stayed hidden —
Something clasped around her ankle.
Sharp points dug into her skin, burning her. One tug, and Ada slipped across the oily metal floor and out from between the cylinders. She would have crashed against one of the machines if the Aurani gripping her hadn’t pinned her underneath his clawed hand.
“Ada Alvarez.” The Aurani warrior yanked her up by her hair, ripping a small yelp from her. “I hereby extend my invitation for you to join me on my ship.”
Heels slipping out from underneath her, Ada had no other choice but to steady herself by clasping onto his outstretched arm, hard muscles shifting underneath her hand.
“W-what?”
Sure hands to her hips, he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder, his deep voice vibrating against her sternum. “Secure the cargo hatch. Neutralize whoever gets in the way.”
Folded in half, Ada dangled from the warrior’s shoulder, her face going pallid no matter the blood pooling around her panicked brain.
With each step he took, her greasy body slipped, and his grip tightened around her legs until his claws dug into her calves.
An up
side-down version of the engine room spun around her, and her heartbeat thrashed inside blood-drowned ears. Next, they would take her off ship, contact Osacore, and state the ransom in exchange for her life. Money, most likely.
Waves of blood seemed to cascade into her skull, drowning her throat, turning each inhale into a miserable pant. Gral would refuse. She would be worthless. The pissed abductors would kill her —
Fucking shit, she couldn’t breathe.
Ada wanted to cry. Completely lose her shit, but she had to remember her training. What was it again? Right!
The initial phase of kidnapping provided the best opportunity for escape. So she dragged manicured nails over thick, grayish skin. Ada scratched and writhed, screamed and wiggled. Someone had to hear her.
“Help!”
“Cargo bay is clear,” another warrior with orange eyes said, disabling that next scream. What was the point if nobody was there to hear it?
If the beast who carried her had any reaction to her struggle, then he hid it well, his voice unaffected. “How many battle-ready ships of the UFG?”
“None, my Varac.”
Varac. The guy was their prince, and he suddenly tensed underneath her. “Are you telling me they didn’t call for military support?”
Numbness spread from limbs to joints, creeping across the rest of her body until it wrapped her in a cold, paralyzing blanket. Why would Gral send someone to save her? If anything, then this prince was doing him a favor by getting rid of her. Once she was out of the way, he would be the default CEO.
“This might be a trap.” The prince set back into motion. “Have them start the fusion panels.”