The only real noticeable difference was his skin. It looked rougher than human skin, and had a pale blue tone. I had previously read that the Athim skin was more protective than human skin, and almost reptile-like. It was one of their strengths in the alien world.
As strange as it sounded, I found myself strangely captivated by it. I suddenly wondered what it would feel like against my soft human skin. Would it be rough like sandpaper? Would it feel like a snake’s skin?
“So, He’s not that bad,” I admitted. “He’s actually more attractive than some humans. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is all forced! I’m literally being forced to marry this alien. An alien! And why me? Anya is way prettier.”
My sister, Anya, was two years older than me, and we couldn’t have been more different. She looked like my father – Flawless olive skin, beautiful, big brown eyes, and long shiny, dark hair. She was curvy in all the right places. For God’s sake, she was an international model. She had been in commercials and on magazine covers all over the world. She was absolutely stunning.
Then, there was me. I took after my late mother – Red hair, green eyes, pale skin. I was as plain as they came. I never wore makeup and rarely left my hair down. A ponytail and yoga pants were my go-to. I was not ugly by any means, but when Anya was around, I was pretty much invisible. I didn’t even try to make myself prettier. I would never be on Anya’s level.
“I read in another article that they are obsessed with ‘rare’ races and features, and you fall into that category with that gorgeous red hair of yours,” Tiffany said.
I sighed. That was a first. Someone was interested in red hair? Usually it was a turn off.
“Listen,” Tiffany continued. “No amount of analyzing or talking about this to death is going to change the fact that this is happening tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy today, Princess.”
She emphasized the last word. She was right in calling me that. I would soon be a princess, whether I liked it or not. I suppose things could be worse, but I still wasn’t onboard with my father’s plans. I wondered if there was a way out of this mess, but knew with the security he’d be manning around me, there was no chance.
As expected, the day went by too fast. Tiffany and I stayed secluded in my room, with occasional visits from Anya and Joaquin. As the hours passed by, I grew more and more nervous, but having Tiffany there helped. Eventually, darkness began to fall, and it was time for me to spend one last night on Earth.
“This isn’t goodbye,” Tiffany hugged me. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
I nodded, knowing if I spoke that a waterfall of tears would ensue. Joaquin and one of the other guards appeared at my bedroom doorway. The other guard accompanied Tiffany out of the room and Joaquin shut the door behind him.
As soon as I heard the door lock, I ran into his arms and collapsed. He stroked my hair, but did not speak. I knew he was as distraught as I was, but he was trying to be brave for both of us. After a while, I stepped back from our embrace and looked at him.
“Is there any way out of this?” I asked. He knew the White House plans much better than I did. I knew there were secret tunnels. I had hoped that he could sneak me out. He shook his head.
“I wish I could break you out of here,” he said. “I thought about it all day. I thought about escaping to Mexico or another country and just living our best lives. It sounded like a great idea until about noon.”
“What happened at noon?” I asked.
“Your father had a security meeting,” he explained. “He really beefed up the White House security. He brought in a whole new team from Canada, actually. There are some men stationed outside of your door and some men outside of your window. There is no way for you to leave this room without one of them seeing you. Your father is smarter than we think. He must have known that we had something going on. He hasn’t trusted me since those pictures leaked.”
I felt defeated. My last hope of leaving the White House was crushed.
“I wish I could stay longer, but I know the men outside are timing this,” Joaquin said. “Again, I’m so sorry, Freya. If I had only seen this coming earlier, I might have been able to save you.”
He wrapped his arms around me. I took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. He smelled like pine and musk. He smelled like home. I looked up at him and he leaned down to kiss me.
“Good night, Freya,” he said, leaving the room.
After he left, I crawled into bed, and spotted the folded picture of Modric on my nightstand. I leaned over and grabbed it, unfolding it slowly. My future husband. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
I studied Modric’s features. Would we be able to communicate with each other? Would we have anything in common?
“Probably not,” I said aloud to the empty room. “Probably not.” I scrunched the picture in my hands and threw it at the wall.
I tried to fall asleep, even though I was terrified what tomorrow would bring. Despite being emotionally exhausted, I tossed and turned all night. I couldn’t believe this was my very last night on Earth. Not only that, tomorrow I would be wed to an Athim Prince. I shuddered, thinking about exactly what that meant. Would I be treated like royalty or would he keep me locked up, using me only when he felt necessary? Would he possibly trade me again to another alien race? The possibilities were endless.
I had always meant to research the Athim aliens, knowing that it was only a matter of time before they made it to America. Unfortunately, I had been so busy with my mother’s cancer and her death, that I never got around to it. However, I did know a few things. They were the most human-like aliens in the universe. For the most part, they understood the English language and looked at humans as equals. Well, except for me. I was apparently just a pawn in their game of life.
Chapter 3
True to her word, Tiffany was back bright and early the following morning, helping me to get ready for the ceremony. We spent the morning downing mimosas that Joaquin had snuck in. I was very thankful for this. There was no way that I could do this ceremony completely sober.
I declined the “glam squad” that my sister had offered to fly in from Los Angeles for the ceremony. I truly didn’t care how I looked. I would have preferred to wear an oversized Detroit Lions t-shirt with yoga pants, but that outfit was swiftly vetoed by my father.
I settled on a navy-blue sundress with flat sandals. Classy enough that I would not look like a train wreck in the papers, but plain enough that I could send a subtle message. I was not, and would never be, okay with this trade.
Joaquin came to get Tiffany, Anya, and me when it was time to go.
“You look beautiful,” he said to me. Tiffany and Anya began to giggle.
“I’m going to miss this,” Anya said.
“Miss what?” I asked her.
“I’m going to miss pretending that you two didn’t have a thing going on!” She laughed. I felt my cheeks turn red. Joaquin looked down sheepishly.
“You guys didn’t do a very good job of hiding it,” Anya continued. “I saw him tip-toeing out of here a few times, but I didn’t say anything.”
We all laughed, temporarily breaking the tension in the room.
The ride to the airport was silent. My father, Anya, Tiffany, Joaquin, and I sat in the back of the limo. My father knew better than to speak with me. I had not spoken directly to him since the morning before. We communicated through Anya or Joaquin. If I never had to speak to him again, I would be very happy. I hated him for this. But at the same time, if this really did result in people being cured, regardless of greed…
I stepped out of the limo, surprised to see only a small gathering of people. I had expected my father to call everyone he knew to witness his “act of valor”. My father had been one of the showiest presidents in recent history. He was always calling news conferences or inviting the media to events, even at my mother’s so-called private burial. He had no filter. It was actually part of his campaign promise.
To be open and honest with the American people. If he only extended that promise to his family.
We walked toward the spaceship. The Athim alien spaceship had taken up much of the runway at the airport. Soon after the Hallon aliens left, my father demanded that Washington Dulles International Airport was turned into the first intergalatical airport in the United States. It had been quickly revamped to accompany large ships such as this one. Looking back, it was apparent that he hoped the Athim aliens would visit for a trade.
As we walked towards the ship, prince Modric came into my view. He looked just like his picture, maybe even a little more attractive. But I would never admit those thoughts to anyone; not even to Tiffany. Our group walked up to Modric’s group. He was surrounded by a couple of Athim aliens, similar to his size.
My father shook hands with the prince.
“Prince Modric,” he said. “It’s so good to see you again. This is my daughter, Freya.” My father practically pushed me into the alien’s arms. I tumbled back, gathering my balance.
“Is a pleasure,” Prince Modric said, extending his hand. I looked down at it. The skin that I had previously questioned was right in front of me. While I had previously wanted to touch it, I was now petrified of what it would feel like.
“Shake his hand, Freya,” my father hissed. “Don’t be rude.”
I did as my father said. To my surprise, Prince Modric’s skin was much softer than I had anticipated. It was almost softer and smoother than most human skin that I had previously touched. Prince Modric leaned down and kissed my hand before letting it go.
I looked up at him. His brown eyes were inviting. He was looking at me like I was the only person on the tarmac.
“We shall begin the ceremony now,” an Athim alien spoke in a clipped voice, interrupting my train of thought. I presumed that he would be the one marrying us.
Prince Modric towered over me. While I had been relatively tall my entire life at 5’8”, I was small compared to him. The small group of humans and aliens circled around us. Both sides were very eager to finalize the deal. I couldn’t understand anything the officiant was saying, as most of it was in the Athim language, but I was certain that he didn’t mention one thing. Love. There was no love in this ceremony, except for maybe my father’s love for himself.
When the brief ceremony concluded, it was anticlimactic. No kissing, no music, nothing. Prince Modric simply nodded at me, a smile forming on his lips. Although I did find him strangely attractive, inside I was fuming. I did not return the smile.
I was angry with him for choosing me, angry with my father for trading me, and angry with myself for going along with it. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice, though. I had seen the Athim alien soldiers with their standing on the outskirts of the group. I had seen their silver guns gleaming in the June sun. They did not look directly at me, but I knew they were there just in case I caused a scene.
My father sauntered over to Modric and me, shaking hands with Modric before embracing me in a hug. He had never hugged me, but with one look over his shoulder, I could tell why. One of his favorite press photographers was in the small crowd, and his camera was aimed right at us. This was all a gigantic publicity stunt for my father. The distraught hero who “had” to trade his daughter to cure the world of its deadliest disease.
I refused to talk to him, and instead I turned to Tiffany.
“This isn’t goodbye,” I put on a strong face as I hugged her.
“I will see you soon,” she said, although neither of us were certain that would be true.
Next, I hugged Anya goodbye.
“I wish it were me instead,” she whispered in my ear. We both knew that was not true. She was just trying to play the part of the big sister. But it made me glad in a way she didn’t want me gone, that she said this. It was something.
Finally Joaquin walked up to me. My father nervously watched us interact.
“I will miss you,” Joaquin said softly. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen to you.”
I wanted to kiss him, but our relationship was over. I was now married to someone else.
“I’m ready to go,” I told Modric. He nodded and shook my father’s hand one last time.
“My people delivered antidote to White House as promised,” Modric said to my father. My father nodded, pleased.
“Thank you again, Prince Modric,” he said. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Business. I scowled at my father and turned my back. I followed Prince Modric to the stairs that reached up to the spaceship. We climbed the tall, metal stairs, and Prince Modric stopped at the top. As we turned around to face the group, he grabbed my hand. Part of me wanted to pull away, but at the same time, I felt electricity run through my veins. While I did have something with Joaquin, it never felt quite like this. I was instantly confused. Why was my body reacting like this?
After waving goodbye, we entered the ship. The doors slid shut behind us, sealing my fate. I was no longer an Earthling. Whether I liked it or not, I was now an Athim Princess.
As much as I did not want to admit it, the ship was absolutely spectacular inside. It actually put the White House to shame. I had always expected the inside of alien spaceships to be bare and boring, similar to some of the military aircraft that I had been inside of. This spaceship was anything but boring.
It gleamed. The walls were shiny and clean, sparkling as the bright lights from above shone down. The floors were bright white, equally as clean as the walls.
Pictures of bright, exotic flowers hung on the walls, bringing pops of color to the long hallway. The ship smelled good, too, like a mix of vanilla and lavender. Two of my favorites.
“This all for you,” Prince Modric said. I was taken aback at the implication of the gesture. It was like he had read my mind. It actually was all for me. He was trying to make this feel like home.
“My English not great yet,” he spoke again. “Working on learning it. But, you also need learn Athim language. You will learn from my sister, Princess Natira. She know both languages well.”
I didn’t respond. Although I was secretly pleased that he was trying to make me happy, I had no interest in learning another language. I hadn’t even wanted to learn Spanish in school. But, I knew the choice was not mine to make. We walked down a long corridor until we reached a room.
“You will sit with Natira and others,” he explained. He used his fingerprints to open the large metal door. I was surprised to see that there were a group of women inside. All of them redheads like me, except for the one who I assumed was Princess Natira. She looked like Prince Modric, but in female form.
Like him, she was gorgeous as well. She wasn’t as tall, but still had a few good inches on me. Her dark hair was in two, tight braids. She wore a slim-fitting, silver bodysuit that accentuated her curves in all the right places.
As Princess Natira looked at me from head to toe with a strange expression on her face, Prince Modric spoke to her in the Athim language. The other girls were looking down at the floor. They looked familiar to me and it only took me a minute to realize why. These were the girls that I had read about and seen in the magazines. They had been traded to the Athims in Europe.
“Return later,” Prince Modric spoke in his broken English. As soon as he left the room, Princess Natira approached me.
“The infamous Freya Miller,” she said. “My brother was right. You’re gorgeous.”
As she reached me, she took a tendril of my red hair in her hand.
“Welcome to my little group of redheads,” she said. “It’s a damn shame that my brother claimed you before I could, because you’re absolutely delicious.”
I looked nervously away from her. Was she hitting on me?
“As Modric mentioned, I will be breaking you into the Athim world,” she continued. “Although sadly not in the way I would like to. Per Modric’s orders, I will teach you the Athim language and about our life, since you’re royalty now. Unfortunately
, my brother is the one that gets to have all of the fun with you.”
“Great,” I muttered. She ignored me.
“You will need to start playing the princess part better.” She inspected my outfit. She obviously wasn’t impressed by my sundress. She led me past the group of girls and to a walk-in closet across the room. She went in by herself and emerged quickly with a beautiful, long white gown.
“You’ll wear this for today, but first we will need to start with your hair and makeup.”
“Hair and makeup?” I asked her.
“Like I said,” she said. “You need to start playing the part better.”
Sometime later, I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. Although I didn’t want the makeover, Princess Natira had done an amazing job. My makeup was flawless. My green eyes were accented with false eyelashes and bold, black eyeliner. She matched the foundation to my skin perfectly and added some bronzer and a little bit of blush. She pulled it all together by swiping on a red lipstick that complimented my skin tone.
My hair was half-up, half-down, with the bottom half curled and falling on my breasts. The gown that she picked up was not only beautiful, but also cut very low. Between the cut and the push-up bra, my breasts were on full display. I was torn between feeling good about myself and looking like a slut.
“My brother fucking owes me.” She spun me around in the chair. One of the other girls gasped.
“You look like a movie star!” She spoke in a British accent. I blushed. I was not used to this sort of attention. The other girls nodded in agreement.
“Thank you,” I said. “You’re all gorgeous as well.” Princess Natira must have done their hair and makeup, too.
Sold To The Athim Prince Page 2