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The Alien King's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron)

Page 8

by Shea Malloy


  He fired off a shot and Megan screamed in horror as a bright blast hit the doctor, sending him crashing to the floor. But in that instant of violence, Varrack lost his chance to escape Mikaal’s vengeance. Megan cried out when her body was jerked around as Mikaal tried to wrestle the gun from Varrack.

  He released a terrible snarl as he shoved her away from him violently, desperate to maintain control over his weapon. Screaming, Megan shielded her stomach as she hit the ground, knocking her head hard against the floor.

  Her vision darkened, becoming blurry. She heard Mikaal shout her name then a few thumping sounds and howls of pain. Then he was at her side, holding her in his arms, calling her name over and over again, begging her to stay awake.

  She wanted to. She really wanted to. But her head felt too light, her body too weak. She couldn’t quite distinguish the parts of his face anymore, but she could see the violet colour of his eyes. And she thought with wonder how this moment felt like deja vu. This alien man with the captivating violet eyes had come to her rescue when they first met. Even on that first day, his touch had made her feel safe. Protected.

  “Megan,” he said, his voice thick and distant as he caressed her face.

  She wanted to respond but couldn’t.

  The darkness took her away.

  ***

  Megan jerked awake as the last tethers of the nightmare released her. Her heart pounding, her hand flew to her stomach, roving over the gentle bump with concern. She’d dreamt she’d lost her baby and the sorrow that followed had driven her into a depressive and suicidal state.

  “Are you well?”

  Seated in a chair he’d brought close to the bed, Mikaal leaned closer to her, his forehead creased with worry.

  “My baby,” she said, her voice hoarse. She winced at the dull ache in her head as she sat up and she rubbed her stomach. “Is my baby OK? Did it get hurt?”

  Mikaal remained silent as he watched her intently. With each second he didn’t respond, Megan’s anxiety grew.

  “What’s wrong?” Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

  “I apologize,” he said, reaching for her hand. He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles and the gentle touch calmed her somewhat. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I didn’t mean to worry you. The child was not hurt. In fact, Zezvar reports its health is at an optimal level.”

  “Zezvar?” Her eyes widened. “But I thought he was … dead.”

  Mikaal shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

  “It’s difficult to kill a Lutvian, especially one as resilient as Zezvar.”

  Megan exhaled with relief. “I’m glad he’s OK.” Then she scowled. “But I guess Varrack isn’t. The bastard. He deserved to die.”

  Mikaal smirked. “I’m strangely satisfied with your vengeful spirit, but I did not kill Varrack. He has been imprisoned. As was his fate before he became disagreeable. He orchestrated the theft from my vaults yet tried to implicate Zezvar as the thief. He incited the ongoing civil war as well, growing richer by selling the rebels weapons to fight against my army.”

  “Wow, what an asshole.” Megan shook her head. “Is that why you went to Stoot … no … Sto ... ath?”

  “Yes,” he said, but a bit too casually for Megan to believe that was the whole truth. He got to his feet and Megan looked up at him, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “Would you like something to eat? You’ve been unconscious for some time.”

  Megan licked her lips, finding them dry. “Some water would be fine.”

  She followed his movements as he poured water from a glass jug into a glass. He brought it to her, returning to his seat and watching her as she drank. She avoided looking at him, feeling so aware beneath his gaze. The last time they’d spent any considerable time alone together, he’d been between her legs, bringing her to an explosive climax that nearly made her pass out.

  She choked on her water. She coughed, clearing her throat and hoping that the action would also rid her mind of her filthy thoughts.

  “What?” she finally asked in the quiet as she set the glass down on the bedside table.

  “You called the child yours,” he said quietly.

  “I …” She looked down at her belly and touched it, her heart swelling with fierce love for the unborn being inside her. “Well, yeah. It’s not just yours. It’s mine too.”

  “Yes,” he said and his following silence made her squirm.

  “I-I know I wasn’t your ideal choice—”

  He leaned forward. “I no longer believe that.”

  “You don’t?” Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat increasing pace as he got up from his chair and sat on the bed beside her. He leaned in and cupped her face with one hand, his gaze and his irresistible spicy citrus scent holding her captive.

  “I was an absolute fool and I apologize for that.” He moved a hand over her stomach, his hand warming her entire body just from that soft touch. “I believe you are the perfect choice to be the mother of our child.”

  Our child. Two simple words, yet they packed an emotional punch that left her giddy and breathless with excitement. Those two words said so much despite being so little.

  “Mikaal …” she began, but she didn’t know how to continue. She was dazed with hope. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?”

  “I went to Stoath to forget what happened between us.”

  Or maybe not.

  Megan frowned. He smiled and leaned in close, making sure his lips moved against hers when he spoke.

  “It didn’t work. I was miserable the entire time I was on that hateful planet.” He pressed his lips against hers in a quick, hungry kiss, his voice gravelly with need. “I missed you terribly because I love you.”

  Her pulse raced, her body quivering with pleasure from his admission. Out of sight, out of mind. It’s the mantra she’d repeated in her head while he was gone. She wanted to laugh now because being here so close to him, the fierce desire she held for him had not abated. Not even a little bit. As a matter of fact, she wanted him more now than she’d ever thought possible.

  God, this man made her feel like she was the princess in some fairytale. Was this real? This was happening? Months ago back on Earth, she’d just been some ordinary girl, walking around on bare feet in the grass, bored and disappointed with her life. Now here she sat, pregnant for and head over heels in love with a powerful, handsome alien king. A man who’d sworn off love yet had just admitted to loving her still. A big part of her felt like she was dreaming, but the touch of Mikaal’s lips on hers was far too real.

  “I missed you too,” she said softly as she wrapped her hands around his neck. Then she grew flushed as her voice dropped lower. Her heart pounded in her chest, too shy to say the words yet scared at the thought of not saying them. “I love you.”

  He kissed her, slow and tender until his tongue slipped past the seam of her lips. Their kiss deepened as they took from each other greedily, revelling in the heady excitement from their mutual admission. Then as his mouth ghosted down her neck, his hands slipping the straps of her nightgown down her arms, he asked her to stay and be his wife, his queen, his klara. Megan sighed her answer against his lips.

  Yes.

  11

  Epilogue

  “But it’s my turn to hold him!”

  “What? You had him like five minutes ago!”

  “Oh my god! Karen, Jillian, my son is not a ball for you to take turns with or something.”

  “That’s right, dears. That’s why I should hold him now.”

  Megan groaned and shook her head. “Oh, Mom. Not you too.”

  Mikaal regarded the scene with amusement, while baby Kelan gazed at each women with mild interest. Every so often, he’d break out into a big, toothless grin that made all the women squeal with delight. Mikaal seesawed between pride and jealousy that his son clearly had more charm with women than he’d ever possessed.

  His gaze settled on
Megan. Her blue eyes were shiny with mirth and love, a small smile curving her lips as she watched her sisters and mother squabble over holding Kelan. Since Kelan was too young to withstand the rigours of space travel, Mikaal had brought Megan’s family up as a surprise gift to his new wife. Megan’s happiness fuelled his own, and seeing the bright joy in her eyes as her family surrounded her filled Mikaal with pleased satisfaction.

  “Jesus, he’s cute,” said Jillian as she touched Kelan’s small nose with her finger. Kelan broke out into a huge smile as he worked his chubby arms to reach for his aunt’s hand. “He’s got his daddy’s eyes.” At this, Jillian looked up and smiled shyly at Mikaal. Tall and slim, her straight, brown hair pulled back behind her head, she was the sister that most resembled Megan. She was beautiful, but in Mikaal’s opinion, nobody would ever rival the exquisiteness of his wife.

  It was a lot for them to learn but Megan’s family took the truth about her disappearance, her pregnancy and the existence of Omaron well. It was apparent many things still startled them in the two standard days since they had arrived, but Megan patiently helped them adapt.

  She was a remarkable creature. Her strength and her intelligence never failed to impress him, her devotion and love for him immensely rewarding. His love for her grew each passing day and his desire strengthened every moment he held her in his arms. Even now as he sat in the midst of her family, his mind became fuelled with inappropriate thoughts of hauling her off to their chambers and showing her how much he wanted and needed her in his life.

  As if sensing his improper thoughts, Megan’s gaze met his. Her eyes darkened and her lips curved into that knowing smile. It usually irritated him in the moments she’d bested him in a silly argument but in this instant, it added an extra sensual allure that made him even harder.

  “Wait, Mikaal,” she said in a too-innocent voice. “Weren’t we supposed to finalize the details on the Lutvian charity event with Suri?”

  Mikaal started to frown. The charity event was several weeks from now and Suri was out visiting friends on another planet—ah.

  “Of course,” he said with a nod. He rose swiftly to his feet, reaching for her hand so she could stand as well. “We shouldn’t delay. Suri can be impatient.”

  They weren’t outright lies. Perhaps…half-truths. But whereas Megan’s youngest sister, Karen, and her mother nodded with understanding, Jillian smirked at them.

  “Right. Well, you two go on, then,” said Jillian. “We’ll look after Kelan while you have your … uhh … meeting.”

  “You’re the best!” said Megan with a grin. She slid her hand into his and Mikaal grasped it. When she led him out of the dining room and into his office, his anticipation began to sink. Perhaps she’d told the truth about meeting with Suri? Perhaps he was wrong?

  But no.

  She pushed him back against his desk. Sliding her hands around his neck, she rose up to kiss him. Groaning, his hands flew around her waist, crushing her body to his. He licked the seam of her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste and tangle with hers.

  This gorgeous, delicious, human woman in his arms owned him. They were from two different worlds, but the only one that mattered to him was the one where she existed as his mate. He was completely, irrevocably hers. And she was his too. His to hold, his to kiss, his to touch.

  His to love.

  Always.

  Forever.

  “Mine,” he said against her lips and she moaned her agreement as he swept her away in another heated kiss.

  ***

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  —

  Preview: The Alien General’s Baby

  Jillian tightened her fingers around her glass and took a swig. She wasn’t sure what the drink was, and the neon green colour hadn’t inspired much confidence in its edibility at the start, but it was tasty, and she definitely got a buzz with each sip.

  She licked away the tangy sweetness of the drink from her lips and cast her gaze around the room. The party guests occupied a large, circular hall. While colour was sparse and polished metal dominated, the mauve-and-gold divisions between each equal section of the walls were a tasteful touch.

  The walls were made of opaque glass that admitted light in the daytime, yet preserved privacy at night. Overhead, the transparent glass of the ceiling revealed a stunning view of the inky night sky, dotted with the bright lights of nearby stars. It enhanced the spaciousness of the room while warm white light cast a shine on the marble floors.

  Because Jillian was an interior designer, a beautifully decorated room often brightened her mood. Granted, she could think of a few things to add to improve the starkness of the hall, but she conceded that sometimes, simplicity was best. Nevertheless, gorgeous decor or no, she wanted to leave.

  She took a deep breath to calm herself. Varying scents of soft, pleasant fragrances lessened the antiseptic odour of the room, while melodious, jazzy music underscored the sound of laughter and conversation.

  Her back straight and her eyes wide, Jillian held her glass against her front as if it were a shield. She hated crowds. Her sister knew this, yet here she stood, pressed up against the wall, enduring a going-away party thrown in her honour.

  She didn’t know anyone here. Correction: she didn’t even know what was here. Save for herself and her sister, every other being dancing and laughing and behaving like normal wasn’t actually normal.

  At least not human normal. They were all members of an alien race called the Dava, residing on this alien planet called Omaron. The planet’s king, Mikaal Ahrisi, was also of Dava heritage. Despite being a human, Jillian’s sister, Megan, recently became the queen when she married Mikaal. How they met in the first place was an incredible story that got better with each retelling.

  Sure, the Dava people appeared mostly human. But one look at their strange purple eyes and the blood red markings marching up and down their arms made it clear there was something different about them.

  Then there were the other beings that didn’t even look human at all: fearsome, blue-skinned, four-armed creatures stationed at every door. Mikaal called them Ahmenians and spoke highly of their protective nature and skill in combat. Jillian believed him whenever she eyed the lethal-looking spears gripped in the Ahmenians’ foremost pair of hands. However, despite her one Earth month’s stay on the planet, she’d yet to overcome her terror for them.

  At least being in the presence of the Lutvian people was a breeze compared to the Ahmenians. She supposed her budding friendship with the palace’s Lutvian medic, Zezvar, helped. She’d long grown to accept his red, spotted skin and tusks due to his quirky, yet humorous and affable personality.

  Jillian downed the remainder of her drink and set it down on a nearby table. Not for the first time, she watched with mild amazement as the glass dissolved into the surface, disappearing entirely.

  Jillian shook her head. One thing she’d come to learn quickly during her stay on Omaron was that nothing stayed put and everything was likely to pull a disappearing act somehow or other. In her short trip, she’d seen stationary items vanish into the floor, hovering vehicles whizzing by so quickly they made her head spin, holographic communication, underwater cities, floating buildings, and most importantly, space travel.

  It all defied the logic she was accustomed to for the past twenty-nine years she’d existed on Earth. While some things still bore a similarity to her planet, the technology on Omaron was far more advanced.

  Her hands free, Jillian folded her arms beneath her breasts and wondered if she should head to the drink dispensary and order a new glass of neon green. Megan had been called away from her side some minutes ago, and the drink had been her remaining source of fort
ification against crushing anxiety.

  Now her drink was gone, she wouldn’t survive standing around by herself. The urge to flee and call it a night mounted. But she couldn’t do that. Megan would be disappointed if she didn’t even try to enjoy the party. Jillian’s greatest fear behind the sight of a nest of spiders or bright yellow paint on a living room wall was being a disappointment.

  When she glanced in the direction of the dispensary, she felt a subtle, quivering sensation in her lower belly. She bit her lips together as a gentle frown formed on her forehead.

  He’s here!

  “Stop it,” she muttered to herself, or maybe the order was to her heart, which had picked up the pace at the sight of the man standing at the dispensary. She fiddled with her glasses, trying to stare at him inconspicuously.

  Tall and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in a navy, militaristic jacket and charcoal trousers. The jacket fit him to perfection, highlighting his muscular arms and wide chest. His dark hair was cropped short, though the top was just a bit longer and stood on end as though he constantly ran his hands through it. His strength was visible, undeniable. Even standing at a distance and in profile, there was no disputing his handsomeness.

  Like Mikaal, his straight shoulders and flat-footed stance easily gave him away as a man accustomed to being in charge, being in control. Yet unlike Mikaal, he made her skin hot and her insides shiver every time she looked at him.

  Jillian knew she was being ridiculous. She had a crush on an alien man who barely registered her existence beyond a polite but formal greeting when in each other’s company. With a cool smile, he’d introduced himself as Jonnar Dorayan the day he came to collect her for her trip. But in Mikaal’s presence, he was a completely different man. Relaxed, jovial, friendly.

 

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