The Alien Mail-Order Bride

by Jenny Foster

  “I… am sorry,” the man croaks, “my Lord, I didn’t know that you had chosen her.”

  He isn’t the only one.

  Chapter 2

  I am the bride of a warlord.

  My entire body is in turmoil. I don’t know if I should be happy that he designated me as his bride, or if I should be paralyzed with fear. After all, he used the word bride, which indicates that he will legalize our relationship. The details of the contract between the Qua’Hathri and the humans were enshrined in secrecy. This is what we do know: For every warrior who fell in the fight against the Sethari, Khazaar demanded a woman who could bear children. We didn’t know if we would be sex slaves, lovers or wives. My hope was that scientists would inseminate us artificially. Having sex with another species was not necessarily on my list of things I absolutely wanted to accomplish before I died.

  But now, the situation was different. There was absolute silence in the shuttles on the way to the spaceships. Some threw pitying glances my way. Others were obviously resentful that I had been so bold, and that the commander had paid attention to me. When we arrived at the ships, we were herded through endless hallways until we arrived at some kind of waiting room. There, we were divided by hair color. Each group disappeared behind a door and was received by doctors. They examined us so thoroughly, it almost felt like an insult. They stripped me of my clothes, drew my blood, examined my reproductive organs, and even checked my teeth. I felt like a cow being prepared for sale at the market. The alien who examined me was of the extremely thorough sort, but was cold as a fish. He looked good, just like most of the Qua’Hathri I had come in contact with, up until now. All of them are tall, muscular and don’t have an ounce of fat on them. I know this because all of them are running around their spaceship only wearing these loose pants. Every man – and they are definitely men, through and through; you can practically touch the testosterone with your hands – proudly shows off his scar-riddled torso. Since their pants are tight around the hips and loose at the bottom, everything just below the waist is definitely not left up to our imagination. I have never seen so many different skin colors at the same time. Every imaginable color is represented, from bright red to dark violet. The color of their hair and eyes varies, too. The only things they all have in common are the scales on their skin and the slit-shaped pupils. Unless every single one of them is wearing padded pants, the rest of their bodies would definitely not leave any woman wanting.

  They bathed and dressed me. Now I am in the warrior’s bed, waiting for his arrival and what he will do to me. I think my actions on Earth have used up all of my energy, because I have never felt this tired in my entire life. My eyes grow heavy, even though the uncertainty of my future should be robbing me of any sleep. It is impossible for me to stay awake in this luxurious bed. The soft pillows and heavy blanket are too seductive. I close my eyes.

  When I wake up, he is standing by the bed, staring at me.

  Khazaar is wearing the same kind of pants, but his are made of dark fabric interwoven with red. The fabric looks expensive, but that is not what is drawing my attention. I feel the heat rise in my face and pull the blanket up to my neck. “I fell asleep,” I state the obvious and wonder how apologetic my tone must sound. Instead of asking the one question that is weighing heaviest on my mind, I am making conversation. Next, I think I’ll ask him how the weather is out there in space, so I won’t have to hold his unnerving gaze anymore.

  “Get up,” he says. I flinch. His harsh tone awakens bad memories in me. I feel my body tensing up, and everything in me switches to resistance. I stare at him defiantly, and shake my head.

  “No.”

  That one word is enough to make his beautifully arched eyebrows move. They pull together into a perfect V. His lips twitch momentarily, and for a second I wonder what it would be like to feel them on my own. Then I make myself snap out of it. Why do my hormones dance every time he gets near me? His eye color changes from gold to a fiery orange-red, and the scales on his body extend slightly. The slight crackling sound the scales make burns right through me. I had almost forgotten that he isn’t human, but that sound forcefully reminds me of his origin.

  He comes closer to the bed and sits on the edge. The mattress creaks under his weight, which makes me blush even more. I am glad there is no mirror in here. I would hate to see myself right now.

  “Cassie Burnett,” he says, and my name drips from his mouth like honey. His scent surrounds me again, and I notice that my pulse has calmed. “There is no reason for you to hide yourself from me. You belong to me now.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” I hiss, and shake off the numbness his scent has spread through me. “I am not here of my own free will, as I’m sure you know.”

  He looks at me in astonishment. “Your president told us something very different,” he answers. His eyes darken. “He assured me that each and every one of you considered it an honor to receive the children of the Qua’Hathri, and to serve the human race.” He sighs softly. “Well, your president is a cowardly, pompous scumbag, and I should have known better. But now that you’re here …” The wonderful smell of milk and honey wafts over me. I am certain that he is purposefully using his scent to lull me into submission.

  “That’s not how it works,” I ascertain. I look around the room, but like magic, my gaze is drawn back to Khazaar. I can’t forget that I am his prisoner, even if he does call me his bride. I need him to stop with this manipulation, otherwise it won’t be long before I won’t know which feelings are mine, and which ones he is creating in me on purpose. While he is definitely handsome, he is still a manipulative alien. I gather all of my courage, and look at his beautiful, chiseled face. The keen intelligence in his eyes doesn’t make it any easier to talk to him. Or maybe it does? It’s worth a try. I inhale deeply. “You want a child from me,” I start, but he interrupts immediately.

  “Who said want,” he growls with a voice that gives me goosebumps. I need a few seconds to process what I just heard. Then it clicks. He doesn’t want me at all? I am relieved, but my relief is mixed with a familiar feeling of rejection.

  “Then what am I doing here?” I ask.

  He sighs again, this time with a definite tone of impatience. “What do you mean here? Here in my quarters, up here in the ship, here with the Qua’Hathri? Why do you humans always have to express yourselves so vaguely? Please try to ask questions with more precision.” Instead of a heart, he must have a machine in his chest. He sounds as dry as a bookkeeper.

  “I mean, why did you offer your help in exchange for me and the other women, if you don’t want me?”

  He nods approvingly. “The Qua’Hathri are going extinct.” He is silent and looks at me expectantly, as if those words were enough to explain everything. Now it is my turn to sigh impatiently, and I let him feel my impatience.

  “Why don’t you look for women who will voluntarily make offspring with you?”

  “No woman would voluntarily go with warriors like the Qua’Hathri,” he says and furrows his brow. We tried that a few times, but none of them stayed long enough to fulfill their purpose. When our researchers told us that humans were genetically compatible, I decided to try for a trade agreement. A life for a life.” The number of women on board equals exactly the number of fallen warriors.

  “The thought didn’t occur to you that we might have a problem with that?” I ask.

  “Your supreme ruler, the one you call President, said nothing of the sort. It doesn’t matter to us, anyway.”

  I snort scornfully. He seems almost human to me, in the way he is sitting on the edge of the bed, explaining his world in which combativeness and conquering rage are more important than anything else. The men down on Earth aren’t much different. For them, it’s mostly about possession and conquest. They just know how to feign love better, that’s all. This cool commander, my bridegroom, has no idea how to do that.

  For a second I wonder if I wouldn’t be better off on Earth after all. Even before
the arrival of the Sethari in the year 3916, things were not looking good for us. Plagues and pollution had forced humanity to its knees, but after the Sethari arrived we were in danger of total extinction. What do I have to lose by traveling with this alien to his home? I buried my last relative 5 years ago, and our supreme ruler – the title almost makes me laugh – would not welcome me back with open arms. I would be lucky if all he did was throw me in jail, instead of giving me a lethal injection for embarrassing and attacking the head of state. So, thanks, but no thanks.

  “Why did you choose me, out of all the others?” This is a question I just have to ask.

  “I didn’t,” he replies. “Our computer picked you as the woman who is most compatible with my genes, and with whom I have a 97% chance of being successful.” It goes without saying that he is not talking about a successful marriage, but about the successful production of descendants. “I had already received your genetic profile, so I recognized you. When that soldier hurt you, I protected my property.” He is fixated on a spot right above my head. His scales rustle softly. This gives me a little confidence. I sit up and square my shoulders.

  “You can forget the ownership part,” I explain with a firm voice. At least, I hope that it sounds firm. “What do you mean, anyway, that you don’t want to? Nobody is forcing you to have sex with me. Definitely not me.” I can’t help myself. I just want to know if he finds me repulsive, or if he just doesn’t want a wife and child, period.

  “As the war lord of the Qua’Hathri, I need to lead by example,” he says and moves in a little closer. I raise my index finger in warning, even though I feel slightly ridiculous doing so.

  “No manipulations,” I say and look in his gold eyes. If only he would turn on the charm a little … quickly, I push away the thought of what his skin would feel like on my naked body.

  “I could force you,” he says with a casual tone I don’t like at all. As if to prove his point, he swings himself up on the bed in one fluid motion, and squeezes me between his thighs. His scent robs me of my senses. This time, he doesn’t knock politely. Before I have the chance to raise my barriers, he is all the way in my head. He shows me images that are so intense that I can’t tell the difference between reality and imagination anymore. I see myself through his eyes. I am small and much too thin to really grab his attention. He is on top of me, brushing his tongue lightly against my lips, and I feel his heat. His scales are lying flush against his skin, and there aren’t many differences between him and a human man. A small moan escapes my lips, and I notice that my body has taken on a life of its own. Sensually, my hips move against him.

  Then, with a jolt, he releases me from his mental hold, and I am back in reality. My chest rises and falls under the thin night shirt.

  “You see, I would make it easy for you,” he says nonchalantly, but I shake my head defiantly. I am happy he isn’t forcing me to do his will, but if he has that kind of power, why isn’t he using it? When I ask him, he raises his eyebrows. “Why should I?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “I am Khazaar Drasurq. I don’t need to take women against their will. If you don’t want me, I release you from my services. I will find a woman who will gladly welcome me in her bed, and who will give me healthy children.” He stands up, and I notice again how tall he is. “I will tell the researchers that, contrary to their prognosis, we are not compatible. You can live with the other women until you have found the right partner.” Cool and composed, he looks at me, and then he leaves his quarters. Just like that.

  I was the bride of an alien warlord.

  Chapter 3

  All hell is breaking loose in the women’s quarters.

  We are still sorted by hair color, and I am in a huge sleeping hall with about 60 other blondes. None of them is over fifty, and they all look strong and healthy. My entrance has caused a sensation, and I have to answer many questions. After four hours of cross examination, things finally calm down. I wanted to answer all of their questions, because I could see the tension in their faces, and the fear of the unknown. The more they knew about the Qua’Hathri, the easier it would be for them to come to terms with their fate. I wonder if I should talk with Khazaar – several of them had to leave their families behind.

  My bed isn’t nearly as comfortable as the one in Khazaar’s quarters, and I toss and turn restlessly all night. Several women cry and moan in their sleep. I stare at the ceiling and wonder if I made a mistake in rejecting him. Not because my situation is uncomfortable now, but because I just can’t get him out of my head. Over and over, I see his face in front of mine, his body, and I feel his skin as he is lying on top of me. I keep having to remind myself that those images were only fantasy, not reality. But it isn’t just his appearance that captivates me. He had surprised me. I had not expected to have a choice, much less to get away with saying “no.” An alien commander, who conquers galaxies, solar systems and populations is considerate of his human prisoners?

  The spark of an unknown feeling wells up in me, and I feel the sting of tears in my eyes. The image, in which he had let me see myself through his eyes, rises before me. My body that feels unusually soft and small to him, my face with the bright eyes that betray any emotion. As I put myself in his place again, I feel his surprise at his own confusing feelings. He desires me! Why didn’t I see that earlier? I answer my question almost immediately. Because the experience was too close, too raw and too in-my-face. I definitely hadn’t had the time to discover his feelings. I had been too busy dealing with the strange experience.

  There weren’t many like me down on Earth, and I had always tried to keep my gift a secret. In any case, it drains your strength to put yourself in another person’s head, because the feelings and thoughts you encounter there are raw and unfiltered. Being able to read thoughts was a secret that I didn’t even use in resistance against the Sethari.

  I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander. In this dream-like state, I wander through the space ship. I explore the halls and listen in on conversations in the other rooms. The quarters of the red-haired and dark-haired women look the same as ours. I dare to go a little further, and cover the distance much more quickly than I could on foot. I go through the door to his room and see him sleeping. He is lying on his stomach. The covers have slid down to his knees, revealing his chiseled body. I can see every defined muscle in his back, and feel an overwhelming desire to lie down next to him. When I am invisible like this, I have the freedom to really be who I am. He is sleeping, so he obviously isn’t manipulating me. He really does smell delicious. Carefully, I sniff the area between his ear and neck, and suck his scent deep into my lungs. Now I can also touch his hair, and it is just as silky as it looks. His hair tumbles to his shoulders in messy waves. His nostrils flare and his eyelids twitch. He is dreaming. He seems so vulnerable, it almost breaks my heart.

  I don’t know a single human who can prevent another from entering his thoughts while dreaming. Should I try it? I would love to know what a Qua’Hathri dreams about. At that very moment, he opens his eyes.

  End of the preview

  PNR, Full-Length, Alien Romance Novel. 225 Pages. Warning: 18+ Only. This Alien Sci-Fi Romance is intended for mature audiences only.

  “The Captive“ is now available on Amazon, and as Audiobook on Audible.

  “Never a dull moment…”

  “Fantastic New Series !!!”

  “The writing is just phenomenal.”

  “OUTRAGEOUSLY great characters and story!”

  “A Very Different Reading Experience”

  “The storyline is fast paced with great character building. You really want to root for the lovers in this story.”

  “I love how strong and resilient Cassie is.”

  “…the captive doesn’t just fall in love but is feisty, resourceful and a strong “alpha” woman in her own right”

  “Steamy sexy and hot.”

  “You won’t be able to stop reading this one.”

  “Must read”

  “I
did not want to put it down when I had to go back to the “real” world.”

  “You don’t get much better IMMERSION into a book.”

  “Fantasy at its best”

  “New author for me and she is an AWESOME writer!”

  “…a sizzling hot story”

  “Love this genre and this author does it very well.”

  “LOVED IT……”

  “I can’t wait for book two!!”

  “Not my usual genre of books but this changed my mind”

  “…hot Alien Romance that is a five star plus story!”

  “The Captive is not the typical sci-fi romance you read where the characters meet and the whole story revolves around them having sex and fighting with each other just to make up at the end and live happily ever after with two kids who’s names you can’t even pronounce. No, this book has men with hope, monsters with reasons and a girl with a heart.... this books has a STORYLINE.”

  “Great book with many plot twists!!!”

  “I’m so looking forward to reading book 2.”

  Amazon USA:

  www.amazon.com/dp/B0777LJT8M

  Amazon UK:

  www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0777LJT8M

  Amazon Australia:

  www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0777LJT8M

  Amazon CA:

  www.amazon.ca/dp/B0777LJT8M

  Audiobook on Audible.com:

  www.audible.com/pd/B078SVXNP8

  Please let me know how you like the romance novel. I always look forward to your feedback and constructive criticism.

  Warm regards,

  Jenny Foster

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