Alien Bride: A Dark Alien Sci-Fi Romance

by Penelope Woods

  Both alphas stir. Vraik’s scales flutter and shine.

  Rekker looks away from the hologram. “You have turned savage,” he says. “Like the ancient ones…”

  I raise my chin. “Maybe that’s what we need to be.”

  Vraik growls in approval. “A bride would be nice,” he says.

  “Don’t be silly. There are nine billion people on Earth. We can have ten brides if we want,” I say.

  Rekker paces. “Except, it goes against the code of the Ubaran Empire. Women are off-limits unless you win the Lottery.”

  “No one wins the Lottery,” Vraik states.

  I don’t even want to think about the Empire Lottery.

  I have studied Earth’s people for months. Humans are filth. But their women are the finest in the universe.

  They will give in to our demands.

  “Our empire will never allow our children back inside the gates,” Rekker argues.

  My grin fades. “Every so often, an opportunity comes. You either refuse the challenge, or you take it. It’s time to build our own empire.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Vraik says.

  Intrigue lights a fire in our bellies.

  “Am I? When the Empire first started, were there millions fighting for their independence? No. We were one and a few. We seized control of a corner of the universe, and we built an army.”

  Together, we stare at the blue planet. Each of us weigh the options of this insane idea.

  Rekker is worried.

  Vraik is fascinated.

  I’m ready.

  It’s been so long since I’ve felt like a warrior. When the Empire first took control, we fought. We believed Emperor Slain could help thrust us into a new era of prosperity.

  We believed in his lie.

  This time, we will be the ones in control. And if we die, so be it. We will have tried.

  No one says a word, but there’s a feeling of agreement.

  The Empire is in trouble. They need our work to continue. Well, I need something, too.

  A woman to tame. A woman to own.

  A woman to breed.

  Rekker exhales. “If this backfires, it’s you who will be sent to the gallows.”

  “Yes,” I say.

  As we make up our minds and come together on the decision of a lifetime, the hologram twists. The frequencies shift. A terrible, disgusting toad of an alien appears in front of us.

  I collapse into a bow. “Emperor Slain,” I whisper.

  Although I stay still, chills rush through my spine. Did he hear us speaking? No, I doubt it. If he had, he would have already addressed it.

  Slain does not fuck around.

  “Sir,” Rekker salutes.

  Vraik scrambles to salute or bow. Unsure which one to choose, he balances on his heels. “Emperor Slain, we have good news for you,” he shouts.

  I clench my teeth together so hard I can feel shards chip onto my tongue. What is Vraik doing?

  The emperor’s eyelids are so thick it’s a miracle he can even see. Unfortunately, this detail makes it that much harder to predict his intentions.

  As Slain opens his mouth to speak, a dense slime drizzles down his chin. “You have found the element I seek?”

  Vraik swallows and stutters. “Yes, sir. We have found a minimal amount of Resnyx,” he says. “Well, infinitesimal, really. I’m not sure it can be used to—”

  Slain cuts him off. “That is not an issue,” he exclaims.

  This is the most excited I’ve ever seen the emperor, and that’s saying a lot. This is an alpha who gets off on routine beheadings and galactic warfare.

  Within seconds, I come up with a plan to rectify the situation. I stand and acknowledge Vraik’s stupid outburst.

  “You heard correct, my fearless leader,” I say. “But before we send it over, we would like to ask you for a few more days.”

  Slain shifts his weight forward. More slime falls from his mouth, and the color of his scales turns red.

  He roars, “A few more days? We simply do not have the time. Every day that passes, we lose the battle of universal expansion.”

  I witness Rekker’s eyes shift toward me. Vraik nearly gave our plan away.

  Taking a deep breath, I keep my gestures calm. “Sir, if you can wait just a few more days, we can extract more Resnyx. Ounces of it,” I lie. “If we rush the extraction process, we might lose all of it.”

  The emperor’s voice lowers. “Keep speaking.”

  “Resnyx mutates into other matter in higher temperatures. A quick transformation. Here, the suns scorch the land. It is wise to wait until a cooler day. A storm is set to break on the horizon of—”

  As expected, the emperor tunes me out. “Seventy-two hours.”

  “Sir?” I ask.

  “That’s how much time you have until I blow Planet Ferän out of the cosmos,” he shouts. “Do you understand?”

  I nod and salute. “Yes, sir. Glory to the Empire.”

  The video hologram shuts off, shifting back to the image of Earth’s blue waters. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

  “It’s settled,” I declare. “We will leave tonight.”

  If we pull this off, we’ll be the most powerful alphas in the universe.

  Two

  Emma

  Planet: Earth

  As I walk into the Daily Star, I wave and smile to the receptionist. She buzzes me inside. “Welcome back, Emma Pierson,” she says.

  I make a face and groan. “Another Monday,” I say.

  She leans back in her brand new swivel chair and laughs. “Hardest day of the week,” she says.

  Yep. Just like the other five days of the workweek.

  I step into the elevator, hit the button to the sixth floor, and purse my lips together. “Let’s hope nothing crazy happens today. I don’t think I can take any more breaking news,” I say.

  She laughs. “I doubt we’ll see any beast-men running around the city, so I think you’re off the hook,” she says.

  I giggle, but her comment doesn’t bring me any joy. I’ve been working for this tabloid paper for two years, and I absolutely hate it.

  My co-workers hate it. My editor hates it. Hell, I’m pretty sure my boss hates the paper, too. But money is money, and once you get locked into something, it’s hard to get out.

  It’s completely embarrassing.

  When the door closes, I bend and roll my forehead against the mirror. “It’s going to be okay. Your contract expires in one year. Once that’s up, you can move on to bigger and better things.”

  That’s the dream, right? There are only so many alien UFO articles I can dish out to the public before I start believing in them myself.

  I am not conspiratorial. Aliens do not exist. Monsters and beasts do not exist. And this Planet Avalon NASA has discovered probably doesn’t mean jack shit.

  Our days on Earth won’t change.

  The elevator door opens to the stale light of our office. The bells alert the office of my presence, but I keep my head down to avoid any unnecessary conversations.

  Today, I just want to get my work done and go home. But my editor-in-chief, Ryan Bulligard waits near the door. This is going to be a longer day than expected.

  His eyes beam. “Emma, you’re just the person I’ve been looking for,” he says.

  I sigh and bend my head, smiling dully. “Shit. The Avalon article. Right. It’s not quite finished,” I say, darting to his left.

  My office is just ten steps away. Maybe if I jump, I can cut that down to five.

  Ryan runs to block my door. “Wait, wait, Ms. Pierson. Hold that booty for a second. What do you mean it’s not finished? Deadline for print was last night. We’re all waiting on you.”

  That article he’s asking about… I haven’t even started it.

  I try to buy some extra time. “How about Thursday?” I ask. “We can layer the paper with a fluff piece. You know, something fun and light-hearted.”

  His eyes are reprimanding. Even
if he appears jolly and secure, I know he is fuming. “No can do.”

  I get the most clicks, the most reads, and I have tons of engaged commenters. Procrastination is not my middle name. The Avalon story should be right up my alley.

  Recently, NASA found a distant planet that could serve as another vessel for human life. That’s big, right? However, the information is riddled with holes I can’t piece together.

  Every time I try to dive into the data, I can’t help but wonder if we’re being misled. But if that’s true, then my theory was incorrect.

  It would mean aliens do exist. It would mean the government hid that fact from the public.

  I shouldn’t care so much about the facts. This is a tabloid paper. But if I’m going to be moving on to those bigger and better things, I need to prove I can do the job.

  None of that fake news crap.

  I need to do it right. Unfortunately, that takes time.

  I wrestle past his arm, noticing a few of the female employees look up from their work holograms.

  “Ryan, cut me some slack. We have no proof extraterrestrial life exists. If people have extra information on Avalon, we sure as hell don’t know where they are. There’s no paper trail. No leftover data imprints. There’s nothing,” I say.

  Now, everyone is looking at me.

  I turn flush, dragging my molars together.

  Ryan glares. His eyes are light green, but they glimmer in a way that has never made me feel too comfortable.

  It was a mistake to date him, but probably an even bigger mistake to dump him. Now, the entire office has a thing around it.

  Ryan edges against me. I close my mouth, but I feel ready to explode. “Emma, if you want to talk about what happened with us, we can. I mean, it’s been seven months, but we can do that if you really need to get it off your chest.”

  Get it off my chest? Does staying up at night messaging cam-girls count as getting stuff off your chest, because he sure as hell did a lot of that behind my back.

  Everyone stares and focuses in on our conversation.

  I put on my best face. “I’m not here to hold grudges,” I say. “I just want to make sure I get the story right. I’m still grabbing quotes. There’s this NASA guy I want to focus on, but he’s out of town until… tomorrow.”

  None of that is true, but it sounds decent enough. Ryan will believe it. I just need to hold my ground.

  Ryan steps away, adjusting his tie. Before turning to address the staring minions, he whispers, “I have my own work to do. If you don’t get the article to me in two days, it’s my ass that’s on the line. Not yours.”

  “Fine,” I mutter. “Then let me work.”

  “Get. It. Done.”

  When I shut the door, I collapse against the cheap wood. It isn’t like me to hide. I rarely allow my exes to give me so much grief. But he’s also my editor. As long as I work for the Daily Star, I answer to him.

  Closing my eyes, I snap my fingers, alerting my stereo it’s time for my half hour of Zen.

  The calm music drifts around the room, soothing my soul. Soon, I feel my body relax. A deep resonance develops within, and I reach a higher level…

  Oh, who am I kidding? The Zen music doesn’t do a damn thing.

  Irritated, I stand and shut off the stereo. The music drops away, and the only sounds that remain are from the cars driving on the city streets below.

  These last few years have been difficult on my psyche. When I’m not working, I don’t leave the house. When I am working, I stay in my office for overtime.

  Sometimes, I don’t tell anyone I’m staying. I just watch the lights dim as my co-workers leave the building.

  I tell old friends I am working hard and saving my paychecks for a house I can finally call my own. Just saving and preparing for the day when I’ll be able to be free, truly free.

  But that’s just a dream people like to fantasize about. The more I think about that dream, the more it turns into a nightmare. I don’t want any of these things.

  I just want love.

  I want someone to understand me. I want someone to hold me when things feel dark. And I want someone who can push me when I feel like giving up.

  I’m a complicated woman. One man couldn’t give me what I need. I’m sure of it. It would probably take owning a harem to fulfill my true desires.

  Okay, that’s a little extreme.

  I once had something good. I met a man in college. We moved in together, and for five years, it was great. The next two were tragic.

  He told me I wasn’t the one. That was that.

  I don’t miss him, but it’s a moment in time I often think back to. It makes me wonder if love can exist past a certain point. Maybe once you reach your thirties, it’s all over.

  I’m twenty-nine, and I haven’t had sex in over seven months. When I say the words in my head, it sounds horrible.

  Is it over for me? Did I wait too long?

  Ryan was a stupid rebound, a total office regret. And now I’m here, sinking into my leather chair, reading the reports on a planetary discovery I couldn’t give two shits about.

  As I analyze the picture of the green planet, I chuckle to myself. “Aliens,” I whisper, shaking my head. “How silly.”

  I get two pages into the reports, but I’m unable to think straight. If ET life-forms exist, would it really be that shocking? The world is already such a complicated place. I’m not sure it would really make a difference.

  Swiveling my chair to face the windows, I set the papers in my lap and watch the sun rise through the clouds. The rays look heavenly.

  It doesn’t last long.

  Everything takes a turn for the worst…

  Outside, the sound of metal rearing its weight through the atmosphere echoes. At first, I assume a plane has malfunctioned.

  Within seconds, the truth shatters every preconceived notion I had about the universe.

  A monolithic mothership blocks out those beautiful rays of sunshine.

  I dart out of my seat, heart racing. Is this really happening? The screams coming from the streets below suggest that, yes, this is very real.

  The office panics. Shouting reverberates on the other side of my closed door. I can hear Ryan trying to calm everyone down, but it doesn’t seem to work.

  There is no calming this down. The big hunk of metal has now covered the entire sky. I can see every pipe, every turret and thruster. The giant disc must have thousands of weapons attached to it.

  The vessel lowers over the city, hovering in the distance. Waiting to invade like a parasite.

  Someone in the office screams, “Oh, God! What is it?”

  Slowly, I walk toward the window. I place my hand against the smooth, crisp glass, fogging it with my hot breath.

  Deep in my heart, I know what’s happening. Everyone must know.

  A door opens. Three massive aliens stand on a ledge. Silently, they watch over Earth.

  I squint my eyes to see better. Are their eyes red? And do they have… scales?

  I watch as the world unravels.

  My heart rocks against my sternum, but I find the courage to smile.

  What are they?

  “Aliens,” I say.

  And they’re here to take me away.

  Three

  Emma

  I snap out of it. Majorly.

  As soon as those brutal beasts step back into their craft, I run out of the office in a total state of panic.

  Outside, cars smash into buildings. Honking horns blare near my ears. Screaming people weave and push past me.

  Heels clashing against the concrete, I run and keep my head down, but all I can see is the evil stare of those alien eyes, the burning red embers of predatory sight.

  A great siren roars above the city.

  I never thought it would get this bad, so fast. How was I to know that my tabloid paper was actually right? Aliens do exist, but they’re so much worse than we ever could have imagined.

  Green. Sticky. Naked and un
caring of their savagery.

  Stumbling, I stick to the path. When I reach the door to my condo, I shoulder it open and dive toward my living room’s hologram screen.

  I make the mistake of turning on the news.

  I hear someone in the hallway. “Emma? Is that you?”

  It gives me a shock, but it’s just my mother. I forgot I offered her a room this week. “Jesus, mom. You scared the crap out of me.”

  Today would have marked her thirtieth anniversary if my father hadn’t died two years ago. I’ve tried to make an effort to be there for her, even if we never really got along too well.

  Today was not the day to have her over.

  Dressed in her old, pink nightgown, she hobbles into the living room. Sirens ring out from the holographic tablet screen, echoing outside my windows. My mom doesn’t acknowledge it.

  Her expression tells me she’s in one her moods.

  Mom sighs. “You’re gaining weight again. It’s all those carbs you’ve been eating,” she says.

  Did she really just mention my weight? I’ve only gained ten pounds this year. She’s definitely the one to go for the jugular.

  “Or maybe,” she starts, “it’s from sitting on your butt, watching the news like a zombie.”

  Never mind the fact that I’m a journalist. I have to keep up the news whether I like it or not.

  She doesn’t mean what she says. She’s getting older, and she lost the love of her life. I empathize with her pain, but the comments sting.

  This is a normal occurrence. I can get over it. Right now, I need to get my mother out of this city.

  The news shows a drone aerial view of the highways throughout America. From California to the New York Islands, vehicles fill the highways like clogged arteries.

  To my extreme horror, cars are at a standstill. People step onto the pavement, eyes toward a blackened sky.

  The mothership looms, expanding over several states. It’s so massive, it’s almost unbelievable. Almost. But I report on this type of crap everyday. I should be prepared.

  My voice wavers, but I know it’s not the time to be weak. I have to stay strong. “Mom, I need you to listen to me. Something very bad is happening. I need to get us out of here,” I say.