by Shea Malloy
Megan inclined her head to look at the man. He was dressed in a militaristic charcoal jacket with a standing collar, his pants of a similar colour. Appended to his left breast was a gold brooch in the shape of a circle with wings. His dark hair was neatly trimmed but a shadow of stubble lingered on his face. Tall and broad-shouldered, his perfectly-fitted jacket highlighted that he definitely looked as good underneath his clothes as he did inside them.
She didn’t know why but she felt as though he was the only one she was truly safe with in this strange place. His alert posture signified he was a man constantly in charge and capable of protecting her. He was the only one she could trust.
“Where am I?” she asked him, her terror falling. When his gaze dipped, Megan followed it to find her shirt unbuttoned, her lacy bra exposed. Face red with embarrassment and indignation, she tried to cover herself with the arm that didn’t hurt as she recoiled from the man too. So much for feeling safe with him. “What’s going on here?”
“You have been impregnated!” said the red-skinned creature with excitement.
Megan’s eyes widened. “What?”
The man spoke in his foreign language to the red-skinned creature, his voice hard and displeased. The creature’s obvious excitement faded and a look of disappointment came over his face. He turned to leave and so did the woman. Alone with the man, Megan struggled to sit up and address him.
“What—”
The man raised his hand. “Be quiet. I will answer your questions but you must remain silent.”
Megan scowled, hating his tone. She wasn’t a child to be told to shut up.
“You kidnapped me! You can’t stop me from talking.” Megan looked around her wildly, ready to scream for help at the top of her lungs.
“You will not make any loud noises, either. It will be fruitless,” said the man, an unfriendly glint in his eyes. Megan held her breath, shocked into speechlessness that he knew her intentions.
“I did not kidnap you,” he continued. “I retrieved what was stolen from me.”
Her voice was indignant. “I didn’t steal anything from you. I don’t even know who you are.”
“I am Mikaal Ahrisi, the Klar of Omaron.” He folded his arms across his chest, the muscles on his strong forearms flexing and drawing Megan’s attention for a short moment.
Handsome and fit. But crazy as all hell, because the more he said, the more questions blossomed in her head. Megan winced in pain when she tried to cover herself properly. She was sat on an examination bed of some sort. Shaped like a long pill, the upper half of the bed was made of glass, hanging parallel to her seat. She had little room to move, but she edged away from him anyway. She hated how vulnerable she felt so exposed with this man looming over her. She regarded him suspiciously as the questions fired out of her.
“Omaron? Where’s that? And why did that … thing say I’m impregnated? What have you people done to me?”
“Omaron is a planet, human,” he said in condescending tones. “And I am its klar—its king. No-one has done anything to you save for the thief who stole my essence from my vault and implanted it into your body.”
Megan stared at Mikaal, her disbelief achieving new heights. Her last memories returned to her. She could see the two aircrafts, not planes, but something like out of a sci-fi movie—spaceships. Then that green monster with the black eyes. An … alien? That luminescent white ball in its clawed hands. The intense warmth of it as her body absorbed it. Was she going crazy? Was this all a dream? None of this could be real. Aliens did not exist!
“I don’t believe you,” she said but she knew this was a lie. “I want to leave. Let me go. Now.”
Mikaal came closer, his large, powerful body looming over hers on the examination bed. The size of him intimidated Megan and she shrunk away from the intensity of the anger evident in his gaze.
“Your disbelief is of little concern to me, human.” Despite the quietness of his voice, a subtle note of warning laced his words. “What matters is that my essence is in your body. My child is in your body. As such, no, you cannot leave. I will not let you go.”
***
The creature—Zezvar—returned but not the woman. After some convincing, Megan allowed him to apply a warm, green gel on her arm that dulled the pain.
“It is a mix I created myself,” he said with a proud smile. “No need to imbibe orally. Put it on the skin and it heals within!”
“Thank you.” Megan forced a smile, trying to hide the disgusted look on her face at the smell of the gel. She swung her legs off the bed and tried not to be conscious of Mikaal’s arm around her body as he helped her to her feet.
“Can you walk?” he asked and Megan nodded shyly. The chill of the floor seeped into her bare feet, and when she tried to move, her legs wobbled on the first step. Mikaal prevented her fall by hoisting her up into his strong arms.
“Put me down!” said Megan instantly, her face burning with embarrassment. “I can walk.”
Mikaal gave her a stern look but said nothing. Megan squirmed in his arms but he only held her tighter as he left the room. Dear God, he smelled good. Something citrusy with an underlay of spice and his own natural musk. The temptation to lean closer and breathe him in overcame her but she forced herself to keep still. She’d never felt as light and delicate as she did now. She felt safer than she should in this strange place as he held her in his steady arms. Roving her gaze around her surroundings, she tried to gauge where she was being taken, but Megan stole glances at Mikaal along the way.
She was pregnant.
With his baby.
A king’s baby.
A freaking ruler of an entire planet’s baby!
Sweet Moses this was insane. No, this was more than insane. It was unbelievable. Yesterday, she was a single woman in her mid-twenties with a boring receptionist job. Today, she was pregnant with an alien king’s baby being carried in aforementioned alien king’s arms to god-knows-where. This had to be a dream, or maybe some really involved prank. That Zezvar guy was totally some asshole in a costume. This place with its futuristic design and unreadable text on the walls—a movie set? And this man—probably some handsome actor with violet-coloured contact lenses.
Megan’s attention shifted to the present. A few times, a man or woman dressed in a beige tunic would come along. The instant they noticed Mikaal, they’d press a hand to their right breast and bow their heads low before hurrying along. Mikaal didn’t pay any attention to the respectful greeting, a sign that he was accustomed to this treatment. Just like a king would be. Megan was simultaneously wowed and discomfited that he had told her the truth. This wasn’t an elaborate act. This was real.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“My chambers.”
“What?” Heat climbed to her face. Her treacherous body warmed at the thought of being alone with him in his bedroom. Though what was the point? She was already pregnant with his kid, anyway. “Why?”
He didn’t answer. Megan opened her mouth, ready to pester him but her words stalled. Mikaal walked toward a door where two, large, blue-skinned creatures stood rigid as statues on either side of it. Their slanted black eyes regarded their approach with unblinking stoicism, and they each held a long spear in one of their four arms. Terrified by the look of these odd creatures, Megan tightened her hold around Mikaal’s neck. What the hell were those things? She was beginning to grow weary of the sheer weirdness populating this place.
At the sight of Mikaal, the creatures pressed a fist to their right breast and bowed their heads. Mikaal acknowledged them with a curt nod as the door slid open on its own accord. A large room with contoured walls and painted entirely in white greeted them. Once inside, Megan she stared around the room in awe. Luxury confronted her in every corner. Thick, mauve carpeting covered most of the flooring beneath the wide, canopied bed. In one corner just beside the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, sat two modern armchairs in mauve-and-gold pattern, a small table between them. As Mikaa
l carried her to the bed, Megan wasn’t sure what she envied the most: the walk-in closet that was larger than her apartment living room or the gorgeous views of the mountainside the balcony afforded.
Megan’s gaze shifted to Mikaal’s. Her hand lingered around the back of his neck a bit longer than it should as he laid her on the bed. Her face grew warm as he stared into her eyes.
“Thanks,” she said softly, pulling her hand away. Mikaal stood up straight, gazing down at her for a moment before heading to the door. Megan panicked. She didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place even if it looked fit for a king. Pun not intended. “Wait! Where are you going?”
He turned, his features impassive. “There are other matters that require my attention.”
“You can’t just leave me here by myself,” Megan cut in, struggling to her feet. “I’m not stupid. There are guards outside. At least, that’s what I think those things are. Someone wants to hurt me, and I’m guessing it’s because of this.” She pointed at her stomach.
“I am a klar. There is never a moment when guards are not outside my chambers. But, yes, they are also there for your protection.”
She scowled. “You know how I’ll be even more protected? If you let me go home.”
Mikaal’s lips formed a hard line of displeasure. “As I’ve said before, human, I will not let you leave with my child.”
“I’m not just human, asshole. My name is Megan,” she said indignantly. “And you can’t force me to stay here. I have family and friends who’ll worry about me. I didn’t ask to have your baby juice shoved inside me. This is not fair!”
He drew closer, clearly angered. “And you think it fair to me that I had no choice in my progeny’s mother? In time, this,” he flattened his palm against her stomach and Megan gasped softly at the intimate touch, “shall take my place as ruler of Omaron. Its lineage was meant to be untarnished. Now it will not be so. Nevertheless, it is my child and you, human, its mother. You will stay here until you have birthed it.” He retracted his hand yet he held her gaze captive. “If you wish to leave afterwards, so be it.”
Too many emotions roiled within Megan, leaving her speechless in the ensuing silence. Though she felt indignant in the way he had railroaded her demands for freedom, she reluctantly understood his reasoning behind his decision. She raised her hand and laid it against her stomach, the realization of what was about to happen overwhelmed her.
She was going to be a mother. It was not a fate she’d sought for herself but one that had been forcibly given to her. She was like some modern day Virgin Mary. Knocked up without having sex. She’d not asked if it were possible for the … implantation to be removed because she was sure Mikaal would have had it done immediately. So, this was happening. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to be a mother of a future leader of an entire planet.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay until the baby comes.”
“Yes, you will,” he said in matter-of-fact tones that irritated Megan before he pivoted away from her and left her alone in the room.
4
Mikaal
Mikaal shut the door to his office and sat down in his chair with a weary sigh. The impromptu council meeting had gone over as unpleasantly as he’d anticipated. He wasn’t sure what part of it he despised the most: the scolding he received for abandoning Omaron without notice or protection, Varrack’s ludicrous insinuation his quickness to hunt down the thief meant he aided in the theft of his own essence, or the council’s quiet suggestion he kill both the human and the babe.
He had no intention of murdering his child. Or the human. As much as he disliked it, she was the mother to his seed growing inside of her and he held some modicum of respect for her because of this. Her weak heritage barred him from considering her an ideal choice as a mate. But if he ignored her species, he wouldn’t say he was completely displeased.
Holding her soft body in his arms earlier had left him with a strange sense of protectiveness he’d never felt before. When he’d laid her on his bed, staring into her vibrant blue eyes while her hands still clung to him had stirred his arousal. Touching her had reminded him he’d been without a woman’s intimate embrace for a long time.
Yes, he would concede that the human was desirable but he had no wish to bed her. To do so would invite far more complications than he was willing to endure. Though he had placed her in his chambers, his sole purpose for doing so was to ensure her safety.
Deciding to bury his wayward thoughts with work, Mikaal touched the black, rectangular strip on his desk. A glowing, almost translucent image of all his communications and forms requiring his perusal hovered above the strip.
“She is to have your child and now she resides in your chambers. I will not be surprised if your next course of action is to make the human your klara.”
Mikaal glanced up from the latest message he’d received concerning the status of the rebel movement.
“I am in no mood to be bothered, Suri,” he said. He frowned as he returned his attention to the message. Many years ago before he was appointed klar, he would have been out there among his men in the thick of the fight. Now responsibility confined him to his office and chair reading the messages they sent.
“I think you should do it, of course,” continued Suri as though she’d not heard him. She summoned his honeyed wine from its newest hiding place. She took liberal sips of it directly from the bottle much to Mikaal’s irritation. “And when you do, I wish to be the bearer of the news to Mother.”
Mikaal turned off his com-system and leaned back in his chair.
“The human will not become my klara.”
“Why not?”
“She is not a native of Omaron, she is an Earthling.” He grimaced as though saying the name of her species physically hurt him. “Furthermore, I will not take a wife I have not chosen myself.”
Suri scoffed. “The day you marry is the day the galaxy would split itself in two.”
Mikaal folded his arms. “Have you forgotten I was once affianced?”
“Yes, once. Yet you broke it off and along with it, the poor girl’s heart. A pity. Though she’s not the first to endure the pain of your unwillingness to commit.”
A mischievous smile curved her lips as Mikaal glowered at her.
“Why are you here, Suri? To find new ways to vex me?”
“Always so angry, Mikaal.” She laughed. “I came to remind you of the announcement ceremony required for a successful royal implantation. I hope to coordinate it.”
Successful? Furthest thing from the truth. This was a catastrophe and he wasn’t interested in celebrating it with the rest of the kingdom. But Omaron was steeped in tradition and to break one of the oldest, especially after this recent scandal would be asking for more trouble.
He made a careless gesture. “Do as you wish.”
“Indeed, my Klar, your excitement exceeds new realms.”
Mikaal awarded her a wry smile. “Yes, it grows with every day I lead Omaron closer to its ruin.”
Suri gave him a comforting smile in return. “Yes, well, before we all cry for your head for our great planet’s imminent demise, we look forward to welcoming your heir the day after tomorrow. Mark it down in your calendar or suffer a public beating.”
Returning his wine to it’s hiding place, she left him to himself. Mikaal released his frustration on a long breath. He loved his half-sister dearly but her provocation was bothersome at times. Returning to the message, Mikaal read the words but didn’t acknowledge their meaning. His thoughts turned to Suri’s parting words. He was not unwilling to commit to a relationship with a woman. He just hadn’t met the right one as yet. After all, he had to be sure. As the klar, he had to be absolutely certain that the woman he claimed as his klara was fit for such a responsibility. He refused to make the same mistake as his father.
Mikaal’s thoughts turned to darker moments when his mother was alive. The anguish she caused not only in his father but in the kingdom of Omaron. H
e didn’t believe that all women were like his mother—manipulative and remorseless—but he feared he’d make the wrong choice by proxy of being his father’s son. Perhaps he should not have broken off his engagement to Varrack’s sister. By now they would have been wedded and she would have been the one carrying his essence. Not the human.
In amusement, he wondered on the consequences of marrying the human. No, Megan, as she’d so indignantly insisted. Heads would roll, the council members would unanimously vote against him, the kingdom would join hands in revolt that their king dared to bring an outsider—a being of lesser capabilities at that—to govern over them. Most of all, Megan would reject him as her husband. It was obvious she did not care what or who he was. She’d made it clear she had no wish to stay. What she cared about most was returning to her planet.
It bothered Mikaal that she would refuse him, a klar. Never in his life had his requests gone without fulfilment. Nevertheless, he had no intention of marrying her, therefore all thoughts on the matter were in vain. All thoughts on the human except her safety was in vain as well. He had work to do.
***
The day progressed toward evening and the subtle grumble in his stomach reminded Mikaal he hadn’t eaten in a while. His thoughts turned to the human. He’d assigned a servant to take care of anything she might need. Zezvar had also sent his report that all was well physically with the human, though she remained furious for being ‘held prisoner’ in the chambers.
Setting aside his work, Mikaal got to his feet and rolled his shoulders to ease them of the tension. He felt burdened and overworked. Vaguely, he wondered when was the last time he had a vacation. A ludicrous thought. Leaders had no time for rest. On his deathbed, his father had encouraged him to take an extended period of relaxation. The moment he assumed the mantle of klar, his father had said, he would have no peace. As he headed toward his chambers where his latest problem resided, he wished he’d taken his father’s advice.