KRAL: A sci-fi alien romance (Mail-Order Brides of Crakair Book 4)

by Ava Ross

  Mila was afraid to love someone that much again.

  Or was she? Could she give her heart to Kral, trusting he wouldn’t hurt her like everyone else had in the past?

  All she could do was try. She hadn’t signed onto this to give up before she got started. She’d see this through, no matter where it took her.

  Easing out of his embrace, she didn’t look up. She couldn’t look up. “Let’s get this show on the road, okay?”

  He stroked her hair, his fingertips stilling on the strands. “It is soft. Luscious. I…”

  “My hair?” It was hair like any other. A bit curly—okay, frizzy—when it rained. Mostly she bound it up to keep it from interfering in her life.

  “I have never felt anything like it,” he said. “It is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Her face was hot. Again! She’d blushed more in the past twenty minutes than all of her life combined.

  “We will go, but know this,” he said fiercely. “You are no longer alone.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “You’re going to make me cry again.” She’d just met him and all she kept doing was fall apart.

  If she trusted him, and he failed, it could rip her heart to pieces.

  Would he hurt her?

  “No,” he said.

  “You can’t read my mind.”

  “I can guess from your face. I see hope. Fear. Vulnerability. Emotions I know very well. But know this, my mate. I will not betray you or give you cause to fear anything again.”

  “Kral.”

  He bared his fangs. “This is too much and too soon, am I correct?” He pressed his fist to his chest again. “I do not wish to frighten you, but I feel…” His gaze darted from hers. “Is it too soon to say that I feel for you, Mila?”

  “What, pity?”

  “Never.” He said it like a vow. “I am pleased you are my mate.”

  “You’re going to choke me up, and that won’t do us any good. I have to remain alert and on my toes, if we’re going to get through this.”

  “Lead on, Mila. I will be with you. For guidance, if you wish, but mostly, to be your sword.” He tapped the handle of the weapon. “With this.” He smacked his upper arm. “With this.” Another fist to his chest. “And with this.”

  “Your heart.”

  “I believe it could be yours, should you choose to take it.”

  “Kral.” She kept breathing his name. His scent. Everything about him overwhelmed her. “I…”

  He placed his fingertip over her lips. “No rush. No pressure. Let us get out of this, my mate, and then we will talk.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks. It’s not too soon. Probably. Maybe. Shit, I don’t know.”

  He bared his fangs. “It is…shit, but it is also…okay. That is an Earth word. I like it. This—we—will be okay.”

  Nodding, she blinked fast to clear her eyes. Time to get this over with. After taking in a deep breath and letting it ease out of her, she stepped into the doorway and paused to listen. When she didn’t hear anything but the usual tick-tick of machinery, she slipped out, moving carefully behind the woodpile.

  Kral remained with her, hunkering forward as if he worried he was so tall he’d loom over the woodpile.

  When she reached the end of the stack, she dropped to her hands and knees and peeked out from behind the wood, listening.

  Everything felt as it should, but she waited to the count of one hundred to make sure all was clear.

  Standing, she waved for him to follow as she darted out into the room, heading to the opposite side. She wove around piles of supplies and huge crates filled with who knows what. When she reached the door leading to the hall, she turned to Kral.

  “To reach the floor with the windows—and a loading dock, come to think of it—we’ll be out in the open. I try to stay away from that area whenever possible, because it sees more traffic, but there’s no avoiding it altogether if we need to stand in front of the big expanse of windows.”

  “You are amazing, surviving on your own for so long.”

  Her eyes smarted. She didn’t want to be amazing. She just wanted to feel safe and secure if only for a few hours. Yeah, she’d been able to sleep in her hidden room, but it had been broken sleep with her waking any time she heard a bang or sound that could be someone sneaking up on her.

  “You ready?” she said, wiping her eyes.

  His hand dropped onto her shoulder, and he squeezed. “I am ready.”

  “Stick close, then, okay?”

  He nodded.

  She eased the door open and carefully peered into the hall.

  Shit. A big group of Al’kieern guys mingled out there, along with two tall aliens she hadn’t seen before. They had green skin like a Crakairian, though she couldn’t be sure as the lighting was poor. During the past few days, she’d freed more fireflies, and the Al’kieern had replaced the creatures with cheap lights that barely lit up a two-foot circle around them.

  Ducking back into the room, she carefully shut the door and leaned against it, breathing like she’d just run a 100m.

  “They’re in the hall.” Panic lifted her voice. “We’ve got to hide.”

  “No hiding.” He hefted his sword and snarled. “I will kill them.”

  “There are eight or ten of them out there.”

  He huffed. “That is nothing. I could kill them all with one eye closed.”

  Jeez. Talk about wanting to end his life before it began. She’d just met him. Was starting to like him. Could he hold off on the suicide mission for ten minutes?

  “There are also two green guys out there,” she said.

  He frowned. “I must see.” Moving around her, he opened the door and poked his head partway out. He backed up and shut the door. “No green guys.”

  “They were there.”

  “I believe you. Describe them.”

  “I only saw their backs. They were tall. Green. And wearing pants and regular shirts.”

  “Naanans?”

  “I think so, but I can’t remember.”

  “Heille.” He paced back and forth, slashing his sword around. It whistled, and she woofed and backed up, though she was confident he wouldn’t hit her. “Who is involved with this? I will kill them, too.”

  She shrugged and placed her hand on his arm, bringing him to a halt. “No need for killing, though I appreciate the sentiment. Let’s go back to my room and try later.”

  He huffed. “I wish to do this. I will show you my prowess in battle.”

  “How about we say you already did, okay?” It was all she could do not to laugh. He came across fierce and protective. The ultimate alien caveman. Either that, or she was giddy from lack of food and sleep. But really, why endanger their lives if they didn’t have to? “I’ll let you loose on them soon enough, I promise.” She doubted they’d get out of here without a fight.

  He gave her a curt bow. “If you wish.”

  “I do wish.”

  He waved for her to go ahead of him, and they trooped back to her hole of hidey. The name was catchy and growing on her. Once inside, she wedged the door shut with a board she’d located for this very purpose.

  “If I killed them, we could reach the window and be on our way to Crakair within minars,” he offered again, his sword still in his hand.

  “Hold that thought, Cujo, although I love how eager you are to jump in and kill.” What were they going to do? From past experience, she knew the Al’kieern could hang out in the hall for hours. Or they might decide to come inside the storage room and poke through the supplies.

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth.

  “What is this Cujo?” he asked.

  “It’s the name of a rabid dog in a scary book created by a well-known horror author.”

  “I like this. Cujo.” He bared his fangs. “You may call me Rabid Kral.”

  Her laughter snorted out of her. “Sure thing.” Moving around him, she sat on her bed. �
��We can wait ten minutes or so and try again.” Maybe in between then they could play…cards.

  Because they weren’t playing anything else.

  He followed her. Sheathing his sword on his back, he sat too close for her comfort.

  Damn, he smelled too good.

  The warmth emitting from body snuggled her like the warmest blanket. For the first time in a long time, she could relax. She wasn’t facing this alone.

  Mila tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Her brain hurt, and her body was limp and trembling. Freedom had been so close, and it had been snatched away. But it was closer than it had been since she’d been kidnapped and brought to the space station.

  Kral stroked her hair and, when she leaned forward, he rubbed her back, making slow circles with just enough pressure to loosen her stiff muscles.

  She couldn’t hold back her moan.

  “While we wait,” he said in a gravelly voice near her ear. His breath tickled, but she liked it. “We will talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Your beasts?”

  Beasts…Beasts… She snickered. “Actually, they’re called breasts.”

  “Ah. I see. Breasts. Beasts did sound like an odd term for suckling mounds.”

  Shit, this guy made her laugh. Her eyes watered, and thankfully, she wasn’t crying due to sorrow.

  She leaned against his shoulder. “You want to talk about my breasts.” Not that unusual for a guy. Although, none had called them beastly outside of Kral.

  “They are soft,” he said.

  “They’re…” Shit. She couldn’t say fat, because they weren’t made up solely of fat. “They’re made up of fibrous…” Fatty… “And glandular tissue.”

  “One day, we will grow close, and you will allow me to touch them?”

  What an odd conversation. “Sure. Tell me about where you live.” She spoke low, barely above a whisper in case someone passed near the woodpile. “Where we’ll live.”

  Shit. She was seriously considering going through with this.

  But he excited her, unlike any guy had done for a very long time.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and his naanans joined in, teasing her jawline and neck. They were deep ebony. And long, reaching almost halfway down his back.

  “My village is deep within the Ikeline Mountains, though not high in elevation.”

  “And you’re their leader, correct?”

  “I lead my clan, just as my father did before me.”

  Did. “So, your dad is…dead?”

  “Yes. My parents were killed in a fire when I was seventeen yaros. My aunt raised me after that.”

  “I’m sorry.” It must have been horrible. She couldn’t imagine losing someone she loved in a fire.

  But she did understand loss. She gulped as memories crashed through her. “My mom left my dad—and me—when I was ten. My dad died from the disease. I… I miss him a lot.”

  After that, there had been nothing keeping her on Earth. She’d cut any other ties when she boarded the spaceship.

  When she closed her eyes, all she could see was herself sitting at her father’s bedside while he choked out his last breath. His eyes opening and meeting hers. His whispered words of encouragement. “Even when he was dying, he only thought of me. He told me he loved me, that he hoped I’d be happy. That he was sorry he wouldn’t be around to spoil his grandchildren.” She wiped her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry I keep crying.”

  “You are feeling. It is natural to express this emotion. Crakairians do not weep but when I see how it releases sorrow, much like rain filling the world with darkness before the light. I wish Crakairians could cry.”

  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She sniffed. “You get all stuffy, and your face is splotchy.” She released a rueful snort. “Well, I get stuffy and splotchy. Your skin doesn’t seem to reflect colors with emotions.”

  “Like your bloosh.”

  Bloosh? “Oh, yes, like my blush.”

  “I am garbling all your pretty words. Blush is a much better way to express the pinkness rising in your face. It begins on your chest and blooms upward.”

  “You’re kinda poetic there, Kral.” She peeked up at him and gave him a watery smile.

  He held himself stiffly. “Do Earth women find a poetic male hot or cool or instead…I do not know the word for finding a male distasteful.”

  “A jerk or…I don’t believe there’s a temperature word for jerk.”

  “Jerk will do. Do Earth women find poetic males jerk?”

  “Not most of us.” Afraid of what he’d see in her eyes—what she might reveal—she pulled her gaze from his. “I like it. I think it’s hot.”

  His body loosened. “Then I will aim to be poetic.”

  “Cool.”

  Eight

  Kral

  Mila’s mumbled something and tucked herself closer to Kral.

  After she’d wept, she’d drifted to sleep. He knew he should wake her, tell her they had to leave, but she’d been on guard for so long.

  He wanted to give her this moment of peace. A time where she didn’t need to be afraid.

  He stroked her side and murmured little stories his mother used to tell him. She wouldn’t hear, but speaking them aloud gave him comfort. Physically, he couldn’t cry, but perhaps this was his form of release.

  His human female mate stirred so many emotions inside him, emotions he wasn’t sure he enjoyed feeling. What if he couldn’t keep her any safer than his parents? If only he’d woken up before the fire reached his room. If only he’d been able to reach his mother. Then they would’ve escaped together.

  Instead, he was left with a hollow cavern inside his heart that would never be filled.

  His Aunt Riella had tried. She had even made him his favorite foods, hoping to stir his appetite and make him feel welcome. He loved her. Appreciated her efforts. But no one could replace his parents.

  Unless Mila…

  He shook his head, and his naanans flared up before dropping back on his shoulders. On her shoulders. He held her gently with his arm and his naanans, sheltering her while she dreamed.

  He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside her.

  Soon, he promised his body. After he had finished the courtship, he would propose in Vikir tradition. She would say yes—heille, he prayed she would say yes—and then he would be able to touch her. Kiss her. Fuck her.

  She stirred and turned to snuggle into his chest. “Kral,” she murmured, her voice a reegar bird feather stroking his scales. It tickled and aroused him all at the same time.

  Did this tiny female Earthling know the power she had over him already?

  “Yes, my mate?” He kissed her soft cheek. Her skin was both intriguing and mystifying to him as it seemed to provide too little protection. How could it withstand the elements? His scales protected him when he moved through the forest. If a predator came near, he could easily blend in with the vegetation. If a stick scraped him or an insect tried to bite, neither could penetrate the surface.

  Mila’s soft skin would be too easily ripped apart. One more thing he would willingly protect her from.

  “When we are on my ship,” he said. “I will proceed with my courtship.”

  “Foot emulsion is up next, right?” she said, her fingers teasing across his chest.

  Capturing her fingers, he kissed them. Kissed the matebond glowing on her palm. This marked her as his as much as his symbol marked him as hers.

  Soon they would be together fully. Soon they could start their lives together.

  “What comes after foot emulsion?” she asked.

  “Orgasms.”

  She coughed and gaped up at him. “Are orgasms part of the courtship process?”

  He couldn’t completely tell, but she did not sound horrified by the notion. His naanans stilled on her shoulder. One had been creeping toward her beast—breast. “Would you like orgasms to be part of the courtship process?”

  “Orgasms were not mentioned i
n the manual I studied with my protocol droid while I was on the ship.”

  “Perhaps you did not reach that section before the Al’kieern attacked. Giving a mate an orgasm used to be a common courtship ritual among the Vikir. It was often completed minars after the couple met.”

  She tipped her head and slit her eyes at him before blinking her eyebashes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I am not…kidding. Do you not do this as well on Earth? Males do not bring women to orgasm during courtship?” He was half-teasing, but also curious.

  “Nope, especially not on a first date. Hell, on Earth, women are lucky to get an orgasm on their tenth date. Sure, it’s common to sleep with a guy after a few dates if you’re serious about him, but most men are only into banging until they get off, then flopping off and snoring beside you.”

  “Earth males are foolish.”

  She shot her finger at him. “You got it.” Her lips twisted. “You know I’m not a Vikir.”

  “No matter.”

  “Yes, it does matter.”

  “You bear my mark, which means you are mine. This shows we have a true matebond.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Come. It is time to escape the station together. Then we can get to the courtship, proposal, and…orgasms.”

  She snorted, and when she took his hand, he tugged her to her feet. “You Vikirians don’t waste any time. Just don’t rush the good stuff and bypass the foreplay.”

  “Fore…play.” He tasted the word but did not understand its meaning. “Play…fore?”

  “You know. A way of warming a girl up for bigger things.”

  Her gaze fell on his pants, and his cock twitched.

  “I will play with your fore as much and often as you wish,” he said, sure that was the right thing to say.

  “I appreciate it.” Her lips flicked upward, giving him the feeling he’d—again—said something humorous, not sexy.