Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3)

by Lauren Lively

  Even a year later, the reality that we'd done it, that we'd destroyed the Ministry and had won our fight, was overwhelming and at times, still unbelievable to me. But we had. And I was happy. And as I looked over at Byr, I realized that I was happier than I ever thought I could be.

  I raised my glass to him. Riley had sent along a few cases of that amazing Optorion wine I'd grown so fond of – and I was eternally thankful for the gift. But this was to be my last glass of it for a while. As I looked at the liquid by the lights of the city, I lamented that fact – but also rejoiced in it.

  “To my dear husband,” I said.

  He touched his glass to mine, sounding a soft clinking noise. “And to my dear wife.”

  We each took a sip, looking deeply into one another's eyes. “We did it,” I said. “I still can't believe it, but we did it. Unduth is becoming the world we've always wanted it to be.”

  He nodded. “It is. And I couldn't possibly be any happier than I am right now.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “No? Don't think so?”

  He looked out over the city, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “I don't think so. This is everything we've always wanted.”

  I took another drink of the wine, savoring it. “Well, it's sad that you don't think you can be any happier,” I said, feigning a pout. “Because I have news I thought would make you the happiest man in the galaxy.”

  “Oh?” he asked and took a sip of his wine.

  A slow, broad smile spread across my face. “I'm pregnant.”

  The sound of his wine glass shattering against the tile beneath our feet punctuated the look of complete shock on his face – and both made me laugh.

  “A – are you kidding?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He scooped me up, wrapping me in a tight embrace, tears flowing down his cheeks – just as they were flowing down mine. He set me down and looked at me, his expression stunned but happy. Byr opened his mouth to speak but found he didn't have words, so he closed it again, instead, pulling me into another embrace.

  And we stood there for a long while, embracing beneath the lights of Unduth's moons and the lights of Kinray, happy, in love, and best of all – free.

  THE END

  Optorio Chronicles Box Set IV – The Alien Badass

  Book 1 – The Alien Mates

  Chapter One

  Hatare

  “You must be so excited,” my sister practically squealed.

  “Excited about what?” I asked.

  “Just a few more days until your eighteenth birth year, of course,” she said. “And after that, you're off to the Academy.”

  I rolled my eyes. Excited was about the last thing I was at the moment. The Academy was simply a euphemism for a brainwashing center for young women. It was where Unduthian girls, on their eighteenth birth year, were sent to be trained in the ways of being a proper wife and mate to a wealthy, successful Unduthian man.

  In other words, it's where they sent us to be programmed to be faithful servants – in and out of the bedroom – to whatever disgusting pig of a man they decided would be a good, beneficial match for us. It was a barbaric custom and one I vowed I would never be a part of.

  But with my eighteenth birth year quickly approaching, my time was running short – and I had yet to convince my mother and father that sending me to the Academy would be the death of me. Like anything else, they called me too headstrong, too stubborn, and of course, my personal favorite, too dramatic.

  To them – and to my younger sister, Pysh – it was romantic. An honor. A rite of passage. To me, it was the end of free thought and free will. It was the beginning enslavement of my body, mind, and spirit.

  But Pysh was young – she was still just twelve – and had romantic notions about what life really was like. She didn't know any better. And she was still too young for me to open her eyes to it. I feared though, that she would grow so indoctrinated by Unduthian customs and traditions, that her eyes would never truly be open, and that she would willingly accept a life of vile servitude.

  “Well?” Pysh demanded. “Aren't you excited? How can you not be screaming and jumping around? I know I will be when I get this close to my eighteenth birth year!”

  “Oh, it's tough,” I deadpanned. “Believe me. I'm having a really hard time controlling myself.”

  Pysh looked at me and cocked her head. “You don't seem all that excited, Hatare. Why not? Is it not what every Unduthian girl dreams of?”

  I sighed. “I suppose so, yes.”

  “Then why don't you seem all that happy or excited?”

  I looked at her and gave her a small smile. I couldn't draw her into my own issues. She was too young to comprehend what I was thinking and feeling. And my path wasn't necessarily her path. Maybe she was perfectly happy with going to the Academy and living out her life in the service of whoever they thought would be the most beneficial match for her.

  But if I had it my way, the Academy would not exist and we would all be free to live our own lives as we saw fit. We would be free to fall in love with whomever we wished. And most of all, we would be free to just be ourselves and be happy.

  Was that really too much to desire?

  “I'm sorry, Pysh,” I said. “I guess I'm just tired.”

  Her smile grew wider. “Have you been having trouble sleeping because you're so excited?”

  My smile was weak and forced. “Yeah, probably something like that.”

  The bell on my bedchamber door sounded, and my mother stepping inside a moment later. “Good morning, daughters,” she said. “Hatare, it's time for your fitting.”

  It was a struggle to not roll my eyes, but I somehow managed. My mother was excited enough about this event for the both of us. My mother and father were hosting a party to honor my eighteenth birth year. They called it a celebration of me, but I knew better. This party was nothing more than an elaborate way for them to parade me around in front of all potential suitors. The elite of Kinray would all be in attendance, and would get a chance to examine me closely – without actually appearing to do so.

  After the party, my father would get down to the business of auctioning me off to the highest bidder. He would speak with all of the men who were interested in making a pairing and see who made the most lucrative, beneficial offer.

  It was an entirely degrading affair. And it showed me that my worth to my family was determined solely by how much wealth or prestige I would garner.

  “I'm really not feeling all that well, mother,” I said. “And I'm tired.”

  “Hatare has not been sleeping well,” Pysh chimed in. “She's too excited for her birth year celebration.”

  My mother gave me a smile. “Come, Hatare,” she said. “You can take some rest after your fitting.”

  I sighed. “I'm not really feeling up to it, mother.”

  Her expression grew stern. “Hatare, your birth year celebration is in days,” she said. “And because you have not made the time to get fitted for your gown on your own, I've had to make the arrangements for you. Now, stand up and come with me.”

  I sighed again. I knew that if I refused, she'd have my father's personal guard come in and drag me to my fitting. Not wanting to cause a scene in front of Pysh, I got to my feet. I remained silent as I stepped out of my bedchamber and followed my mother down the hall.

  “Really, Hatare,” she said. “I don't know why you're so resistant to this whole affair. You'd think we were sending you to be executed or something.”

  That was essentially what they were doing, in fact. Forcing me to marry somebody I didn't know, let alone love, was akin to death. Surely, a little piece of my soul would die every day until there was nothing left inside of me. I could see that in my mother's eyes sometimes.

  Oh, she played the role of the perfect Unduthian wife and mother to perfection. But there were times – not often, but once in a while – where I could see behind that carefully constructed mask. And what I saw was heartbreaking.
There was no passion in her eyes. No fire. No spark of life. Sometimes she just looked dead inside.

  And there was no way I would let myself suffer a similar fate. I just wouldn't. I would take my own life first.

  We arrived at the room where my fitting was to take place. My mother stood beside the open door, an impatient expression on her face. Not meeting her eyes, I walked into the room. The door slid closed behind us with a whoosh and with the push of a button – courtesy of my mother, of course – it clicked into place with the solid sound of finality. I obviously wasn't getting out of that place until this was all over.

  With another sigh, I walked over to where the seamstress and her assistants were buzzing about.

  Chapter Two

  “Such a pretty girl,” my seamstress Tayna beamed.

  She held up several swatches of fabric, oohing and aahing with each one. I looked at myself in the mirror as she tried to match a fabric to me. Personally, I didn't care. I just wanted this over with.

  “What do you think about this?” Tayna asked.

  It was a light red color and the fabric itself sparkled beneath the lights. If I were invested in this process, I would have said no. My skin tone was a light blue, my hair, a darker blue – I thought the color of the fabric contrasted too much and looked gaudy. But then, if I wore something like that – and looked that horrible – perhaps no eligible men invited to this farce would look at me twice.

  “I like it,” I said.

  Tayna looked over at my mother, who was sitting in a chair near the window, silently observing.

  “No,” she said. “The fabric clashes with her skin and looks gaudy. Next.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you're going to pick it out for me anyway, why do I even need to be here? You seem to be doing just fine without me.”

  “Mind your manners, Hatare,” my mother said. “Goodness. I'll be glad when you go off to the Academy. Hopefully, they can teach you some manners.”

  “If by manners, you mean sucking all of the life and passion out of me, you will probably get your wish.”

  “Hatare!” my mother stood and stamped her foot on the floor. “What has gotten into you? Why are you so – so – rebellious all of the sudden?”

  “It's not so all of the sudden, mother,” I said. “And I'm not thrilled about the idea of being auctioned off this way.”

  In the mirror, I caught Tayna's eyes and saw her stifling a smile of her own and I got the feeling she felt the way I did. She gave me a quick wink before holding up the next bolt of fabric. It was a deep, rich purple – and I had to say, that I quite liked it. I thought it accented my skin and hair tones very nicely. In fact, I thought with a dress made of that color and cloth, I might even look – pretty.

  “That one,” my mother said, still clearly annoyed. “That's the color. Now, I want you to put together your five bestselling designs, alter them enough to make them unique, and then send me the image file. I'll make the decision myself. I'm just ready for this to be over, already.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Tayna said.

  My mother stormed out of the room muttering to herself, leaving me with Tayna.

  “Less than half an hour,” she said. “Quite impressive. Most girls can't get their mothers to rush out for at least forty-five minutes.”

  I looked at her. “S – so there are others?” I asked. “Who feel the way I do?”

  She nodded. “Quite a few. Far more than you'd think.”

  I looked at Tayna and smiled, but didn't say anything. It was comforting to know though, that I was not alone in my thoughts or feelings. The question was – what to do about it.

  Chapter Three

  Byr

  “Hey, it's time to knock off,” Tryn said as he shut down his machine.

  I looked over at him and nodded, flipping off my machine as well. We worked in the factory, assembling – well, whatever the government tells us to assemble. We've been known to manufacture and assemble appliances, vehicles, even weapons from time to time. The government placed orders and it was our job to fill them.

  They paid us the meagerest of wages and expected the highest quality work. And if we failed to deliver, they would threaten to revoke our contracts and place them with another factory. None of the men in the factory could afford to lose the contracts, and so we worked hard for our slave wages.

  It was a hard existence, but it was the only existence we knew. It wasn't like we'd been fortunate enough to have been born into the wealthy elite who inhabited Kinray. We were the dregs of Unduthian society, living on the edges of the capital, getting nothing more than scraps – and never noticed until something went wrong.

  The machines powered down and a relative quiet descended over the factory. At least, until the next shift arrived. I dropped my gloves and helmet on my machine before walking out of the factory with Tryn. The sun had already set and the first of our three moons was already rising.

  “You want to go over and get some food?” Tryn asked.

  I shook my head. “Can't. My mother needs my help tonight.”

  Tryn gave me a tight smile and nodded. He understood my situation and why I had become such a recluse over the last few months. My father had died unexpectedly, leaving my mother – who was already in poor health – to care for me and my two younger siblings. My little sister Gynta and my little brother Hopa were a handful and I – as the new head of our household – had no choice but to help care for them. It wasn't like my mother could bring in much in her condition.

  “How is she doing?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “About as well as can be expected, I suppose,” I replied. “The disease is going into her heart. Honestly, I don't know how long she has left.”

  Tryn looked at me, his expression serious. “What will you do then?”

  I sighed. It was a question I'd asked myself a million times. We had no other family and I honestly didn't know if I could handle caring for two small children on my own. And it wasn't like there was much chance for somebody in the lower classes of Unduthian society – like me – to move up and better myself or my station.

  I just shook my head, feeling completely overwhelmed and depressed. “I don't know,” I said. “I really don't.”

  Tryn gave my shoulder a companionable squeeze. “You know I'll do whatever I can to help you.”

  I gave him a weak smile. “And I appreciate that. More than you know.”

  He nodded. “Then I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow then.”

  I watched Tryn walk toward the marketplace in the center of our village. It was the place where anything could be had for a price. It was where we got our food, drink and whatever supplies we needed to survive. There was always somebody there who seemed able to get anything we needed.

  It wasn't technically sanctioned by the Council, and could be considered an illegal underground market, but they tended to overlook it. Mostly because they just didn't care to deal with us unless they absolutely had to.

  The elites who lived in Kinray considered themselves above us. They saw themselves as our betters. And they treated us accordingly. Our only value to them was based in how productive we could be for them. What we could provide for them. Other than that, all of us living on the outer edges of Kinray could be wiped out and they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it.

  I walked into the small, rundown place we called a home. It was a three-room home, built mostly of stone and spare timber. My father hadn't been much of a craftsman, but he'd done the best he could. And it kept the worst of the chill out at night, so I couldn't complain all that much. I knew we had it better than some of the others in our village.

  “Byr, is that you?” my mother called from her room.

  “Yes, mother,” I said, dropping my bag down on the table in the main room. “How are you feeling?”

  I stepped into her room and stepped to her bedside, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked up at me, her skin looking ashen and her once vibrant silv
er hair now looking dull and almost as lifeless as her eyes. But she gave me a smile.

  “I'm fine, my sweet boy,” she said. “Don't you waste any time worrying about me.”

  My mother was always fine. She didn't complain about her illness, not even when it got really bad. It broke my heart to see her so weak and frail. But there was nothing I could do to help her. Even if we'd had the money for the proper treatments, the doctors said the disease was too far advanced and there was nothing they could do.

  “I used the last of our rations to make some soup for dinner,” she said. “Will you be able to get more tomorrow?”

  I nodded. “Of course,” I said. “I'll be sure to get them tomorrow afternoon.”

  The Council wanted to make sure we believed they cared about us by giving us rations of food once a week. Some vegetables, meats, breads – some of it stale and rotten. I was convinced that it was simply leftover scraps from the tables of the upper class.

  But, it was better than nothing. I'd become pretty efficient at stretching those rations and making something edible out of them.

  “Let me get you a bowl of soup, mother.”

  She shook her head. “I'm not feeling well enough to eat right now,” she said. “Maybe I'll have you fix me something later.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  The fact that she refused to eat told me that we didn't have much in the pot. My mother always made sure that her children ate first – even at the expense of her own growling stomach. I gave her a small smile.

  “Get some rest, mother.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes as I turned and made my way back into the main room. Moving over to the pot hanging above the fire, I ladled some soup into bowls and set them on the table. I grabbed some crusty bread from the box and put it on plates.

  “Gynta, Hopa, time to eat,” I called.

  The door to the room in back opened and they shuffled out to the table, casting a despondent look at our mother as they passed by her room. They were good kids and did all they could to not cause our mother any undue stress. They knew she was in poor health and that she likely wouldn't be with us much longer, but they did their best to keep her spirits up.