Venan: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 7 (The End)

by Ashley L. Hunt

  Chapter Two

  Octavia

  The only wedding I’d ever been to was my cousin’s when she married her high school sweetheart. I’d stood beside her as a bridesmaid and smiled while she took her vows, and I’d stood beside her as a shoulder to cry on and held her left hand while she signed her divorce papers with her right twenty months later. My parents were never married, and I was an only child, so weddings just weren’t part of my lifestyle growing up. There was a general idea of what to expect at a wedding, though: bouquets, elegant white gowns, speeches, throwback oldies music.

  This wedding wasn’t anything like that.

  There were chairs divided into two blocks separated by an aisle, as usual, and a gorgeously-decorated altar at the head of the site, but that seemed to be the extent of the normal expectations. Everywhere I looked, bright blue skin shone beneath a milky-white sun. The altar was adorned with silky fabrics flipping in the breeze and vividly-colored flowers unlike any I’d ever seen before. Whatever instruments provided the music now flowing through the air were foreign to my senses, and the sounds they gave off were so mystical and ethereal I felt them rather than heard them. A tangy smell of cactus-like plants kept wafting across my nose rather than the sensual scent of roses or regal aroma of lilies as one would ordinarily smell at a formal event like this. To cap it off, we were sitting in the middle of a never-ending desert with golden dunes in front of us and peachy clay walls behind.

  Edie was my date to this function; or, rather, I was hers. She was seeing a Corporal in the Ka-lik’et human colony where we lived, but he was on-duty for the ceremony and unable to attend until later in the reception, so she’d asked me to accompany her. I’d been a little leery at first, mainly because I didn’t know the bride or groom and felt like I’d be an intruder, but I’d ended up agreeing when she’d begged me in her energetic Edie way. As it turned out, I wasn’t the only other stranger in attendance—Edie told me Phoebe and her A’li-uud mate weren’t even sure who half the guests were—and there was a handsome upside to accompanying my friend.

  The A’li-uud across the aisle was the most attractive I’d ever seen, and I’d been an Albaterran colonist for over a year. I’d only gotten a brief glimpse of the groom, but, from what I could tell, the two were carbon copies of each other—slanted opaline eyes, frosty waist-length hair, rich sapphire skin and cheekbones sharp enough to slice a diamond in two. But there was a noticeable difference between them, something I picked up on right away. The quick glance of the betrothed A’li-uud revealed an evident rascal of an alien in his smirking mouth and narrowed gaze. Looking at the other, the one mere feet from me, was like looking through a mosaic glass to see the brooding, reserved man on the opposite side. He was mysterious and hidden, his personality not lain out to bare before all but tucked safely away in his depths. And he was powerful. I could feel it radiating from him every time I so much as looked in his direction.

  “You like what you see?”

  Edie’s voice pulled my attention from the A’li-uud, and I flushed. Luckily, the sun was so bright and hot I was already pink with heat all over. “He’s good-looking,” I admitted quietly. I wasn’t shy to say so, at least not to her.

  “He’s an Elder,” she said, grinning at me knowingly.

  I whipped my gaze back to him with surprise. He wasn’t wearing the intricately-embroidered robes common of Elder wardrobes, instead donning just the boots and jodhpur-style pants of Dhal’atian warriors and leaving his torso naked. If she hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have expected it. I knew the last Elder of the kingdom had died, of course, but the new Elder hadn’t been in public often enough for me to see him during the hours I wasn’t holed up in the colony salon.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered. “He’s not wearing the fancy robes.”

  She nodded soberly. “I’m sure. I even asked.” I felt her elbow nudge me in the ribs. “You should ask him to dance tonight.”

  “Yeah, right,” I retorted sarcastically. “The Elder and the hairdresser. That sounds like a match made in Heaven.”

  “Maybe not Heaven, but it could be a match made on Albaterra,” she replied with a chuckle. She motioned to the altar in front of us. “See? It’s common here. Besides, I bet he’d be right up your alley.”

  Edie and I didn’t actually know each other as well as her words suggested. We became friends only a few months ago when Phoebe, the bride, left the colony and took up with her A’li-uud boyfriend. Edie started coming into the salon out of boredom, looking to change up her hairstyle more often than Katy Perry, and, when we realized we clicked, she latched onto me like a leech and never let go. I didn’t mind. I liked Edie’s vivacious spirit, especially because I could only take so much of the other hair stylists before I started feeling like I was losing my mind. They were a little too superficial for my taste. Edie was superficial too, but her heart was so kind it was an easy flaw to overlook.

  There was movement behind us, and we turned in our chairs. At the base of the aisle was an A’li-uud with broad shoulders, rippling muscles and smooth, flowing hair, and on his arm was a pretty blonde smiling so brightly she matched the sun with her glow. She wore a ground-sweeping gown of emerald silk rather than the traditional white dress, but I preferred it. Surrounded by the unusual alien atmosphere, it seemed fitting, and it brought out the pale azure tint of her eyes. The music billowed out everywhere, wrapping us in melodic notes, and bumps rose on my skin from the sheer touching weight of its emotion.

  Step by step, the couple strode up the aisle toward the altar, toward us. The rest of the guests twisted in time with their progression, but I remained turned to the back. Someone was behind the seats, lingering near one of the poles supporting the nearby reception tent. More focused scrutiny showed the lingerer was a female, her skin as blue as the groom and his doppelganger Elder. Her face was beautiful, angled and pointed and as regal as a queen, but her mouth was twisted in certain rage.

  I pressed my knuckles into Edie’s thigh, trying to get her attention without interrupting the ceremony, but she shifted a few inches out of reach. The perplexing female suddenly met my eyes. I froze, caught, before remembering it wasn’t me who was encroaching on the wedding.

  She raised a single finger to her lips, her eyes boring into me fiercely, and then disappeared behind the tent in the blink of an eye.

  Chapter Three

  Venan

  Seeing human colonists, particularly those who had arrived recently, navigate through the ways and means of Albaterran life was much like watching a newborn discover the world around him. They were wide-eyed and flustered and unaware of themselves, and observing such effectually lifted witnessing A’li-uud to a status of sage content, not unlike that of parents. The uncertainty drew a line between native and settler to antagonize the already-obvious differences and stunt the progression of integration. Thus, the segregation of human from A’li-uud remained both a product and a necessity of the colonization process.

  Never had I felt as united in inaptitude with both A’li-uud and humans alike as I did sitting beneath the soaring canopy of the reception tent while my brother and his new wife danced. Nobody was comfortable; all present seemed to be equally unfamiliar with their surroundings, as we were in the midst of a perfect blend between human and A’li-uud culture, and the only beings I saw entirely at ease were the bride, the groom, and the exceedingly energetic Edie.

  Traditionally, A’li-uud weddings were comprised of a brief ceremony officiated by the kingdom’s Elder and attended just by immediate family members. After their joining, the new couple was then sent away to prepare a feast for their handful of guests, which was to be served at the home of the female’s mother. In the event the couple had not yet acquired a marital residence, they were to spend the three days following the wedding doing so. If they already had such, they retired to the said residence for three days, where they would remain uninterrupted to solidify their bond as husband and wife. It was a simple, intimate custom designed to sever
the ties of separatism and merge two histories into a single future.

  Human weddings were evidently much more lavish and grandiose in their celebration. The number of guests was obscene, a quantity comparable only to the masses who gathered to hear an Elder speak. A feast did indeed follow the ceremony, but it was neither prepared by Zuran and Phoebe nor was it held at the home of my mother. Rather, we were to eat in the richly-decorated reception tent from assigned seats placed neatly around circular tables in groups of eight, and we were served by warriors Zuran had asked to assist. Such division between guests meant conversation was limited to those appointed to respective tables, which, in my humble opinion, dissolved the aura of intimacy essential for a wedding. Furthermore, music and dancing followed the meal, initiated by a dance reserved solely for the bride and groom. Though their arms were wrapped around one another and they gazed into the other’s eyes adoringly, I felt the personal element was lost in the sea of silent onlookers. Perhaps I had merely become irreverently cynical in my months as a contested Elder, but the ordeal appeared more to me as staged and contrived than it did a beautiful commemoration of true love found.

  Cynicism dismissed, the tent had truly been dressed exquisitely. Strings of lit geodes roped around the borders and across the unoccupied air overhead, casting a soft and starry glow upon both objects and attendants. Tables were handsomely garnished with shimmery silken cloths and grand floral centerpieces in hues of gold and indigo and crimson and verdigris. Each chair encircling each table was a solid, transparent material of mid-back height, lit by luminous geodes of the same color scheme embedded within the glassy construct. Between the flowers and the food, my nose was overwhelmed with scents, but I also detected a sugary aroma of unidentifiable origin beneath that eliminated what little familiarity I had with the ambience and tempted my sensical curiosities. Only my ears were unobstructed by peculiarity, as the musicians and their instruments frequented the city streets like semi-permanent Dhal’atian installations. Taking in everything, the combination of such flamboyant features reminded me of the Merchant’s Walk inside the Ka-lik’et walls, though this was arguably of a more elegant design.

  As Zuran and Phoebe twirled about an open space unoccupied by dining tables, I was approached by the same small human who had accosted me earlier. Edie sank onto the seat beside mine, which had recently been vacated by my father in his pursuit to speak with an old acquaintance several tables over, and arranged her skirts neatly around her legs.

  “Hi,” she breathed, a broad smile of greeting splitting her friendly face.

  “Hello,” I reciprocated with a slight bow of my chin. I was inclined to peer in the direction from whence she arrived, hoping to spot a glimpse of her buxom companion, but I restrained myself in the interest of appearing collected and composed—just as an Elder ought to be. “You are enjoying the wedding?”

  She nodded eagerly, sending styled curls into a frenzied bounce. “Oh, yeah. A’li-uud stuff is so much cooler than what we have on Earth. I mean, look at this thing!” She seized the backrest of the chair upon which she sat and jostled it slightly, rocking a breath before righting herself again. “Totally awesome. It’s like being in a movie.”

  I knew not what a movie was, nor was I interested in finding out, so I simply nodded with indifferent agreement and swiveled my gaze idly over her shoulder. The dark-haired human I admired so was nowhere to be seen, but there was a human male standing amongst the scattered tables with his eyes pinned on Edie. I tilted my head in his direction and said, “I believe you have a fancier.”

  “That’s my date,” she replied proudly after following my indication. “He’s a Corporal. We’ve been seeing each other for months, but we haven’t had the whole ‘exclusive’ talk, you know? I’m not really sure why, because I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t think he is either. I’ve started to wonder if he has commitment issues. What’s weird is, back on Earth, I would’ve dumped him already for not putting a title on our relationship, but here is different. I guess I don’t care as much. I mean, the men outnumber the women like three-to-one, so I’ve got options. Either he’ll make me his girlfriend or he won’t, right?”

  Again, her rambling stunned me, particularly because she spoke to me as if I were a bosom friend rather than a relative stranger. Instead of answering her assumedly rhetorical question, I decided the time was opportune to segue into asking about her original accompaniment. “Has your female friend left, then?”

  “Octavia? No, she’s right there.” She pointed in the general direction of her Corporal mate. Behind him, I noticed a head of adumbral hair, and I realized I had first failed to see her because she was sitting with a group of other humans into which she blended quite seamlessly. When I turned my attention back to Edie, I found her smiling at me with a measure of smug suggestiveness. “Why? Do you like her?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I do not know her.”

  “Well, I think she likes you,” Edie said with a shrug. Her smile elongated into a beam as she added, “She was surprised to find out you’re an Elder.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, because you’re not wearing your robes.” She glanced at my unattired chest.

  I, too, glanced down at myself as if having forgotten I was without torso dressings. “The robes draw much attention,” I informed her. “As it is a day to celebrate my brother, I elected to forego such vestment and instead mingle into the crowd. As best as I am able to, anyway.” I spoke the last statement with a note of unintentional bitterness.

  “That makes sense,” she commented. The sounds of shuffling behind me drew my consideration from her, and we watched in momentary silence as a smattering of human couples and one A’li-uud pair joined the newlyweds in dancing. Edie twisted in her seat to look behind her at her awaiting Corporal, and she shifted to rise. Before she stood, however, she leaned nearer to me and hinted, “You should ask Octavia to dance.”

  The suggestion startled me, and I inadvertently spouted, “Why?”

  “I think she likes you,” she repeated with a mysterious smile. Then, she got to her feet, offered me a small wave of departure, and ventured through the maze of tables toward her male companion.

  For a moment, I considered dismissing her advice. Dancing was not an activity I engaged in, and I was especially reluctant given the amount of cutting stares I was already receiving simply for existing within the confines of the tent. Furthermore, her estimation of the woman’s interest in me was just that: an estimation. I did not wish to subject myself to further ridicule by requesting the company of a human and being rejected for all to see. More than anything, though, I had become entangled in my new role as Elder, both to clear my name and to live up to the honor of the Elderhood. Time for frivolous socializing was not something I possessed.

  Yet, I was at the reception with little else to do but sit and endure disparaging looks from those nearest me. How much more I could tolerate before my boots carried me back to the relief of the Elder palace of their own accord, I did not know, but I knew my patience was waning. In a sudden fit of defiant courage, I left my chair and wove my way through the tables toward the mane of brunette tresses. If she were to reject me, so be it. I had grown accustomed to repudiation in the last few months, anyway.

  Chapter Four

  Octavia

  Once Edie’s pseudo-boyfriend arrived, I went from feeling a little out-of-place to completely uncomfortable. She drifted off regularly, sometimes to kiss and hug her Corporal and other times to schmooze with Phoebe. I knew plenty of the people there—the humans, at least—because I was one of the few hairstylists in the colony and had seen most of them in my salon at one time or another, but there was only so much small-talk we could make before the conversation became quiet and awkward. Plus, those who shared a table with me had come with their own dates, so they had someone they were well-acquainted with to entertain themselves while I was left alone because my date’s replacement had finally shown up.

  Honestly, I ju
st wanted to go home.

  The reception was gorgeous in every sense of the word, and it was thankfully easy for me to occupy myself with looking around at all the alien decorations and lights and guests. I couldn’t get over how the chairs were glowing without any apparent source, though I did know the geodes within them had some kind of scientific makeup that made them glow like plasma. The flowers on the table were breathtaking and strange at the same time, and even the plate I ate off of was unusual in that it seemed to be made of a weird wood but was as light as a slip of paper. The A’li-uud present obviously weren’t thrown by their surroundings, but they did seem confused by the goings-on of dancing and eating. I wondered what their weddings were normally like, though I wasn’t inclined to get up and ask one.

  I was startled suddenly by a hand on my shoulder. It was too light a touch to be Edie, since she would’ve just hopped over to me and crashed onto a chair next to me without warning, and I spun on my seat. To my surprise, the handsome A’li-uud Elder was there looking down at me.

  “Pardon me,” he said in his staccato English. “I did not intend to frighten you.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I replied hastily, blushing for my rather ungraceful reaction.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  Immediately, I had a feeling Edie had something to do with this. It was too coincidental that, after she’d mentioned during the ceremony that I should ask him to dance and I’d blown off the idea, he would approach me. The warmth in my cheeks dissipated, and I swung my eyes around the room briefly in search of Edie’s telltale bouncing. I spotted her on the dance floor with her Corporal.