Alien passion, p.8
Alien Passion, page 8
part #2 of The Alpha Prince of Astia Series
Emma goes to argue but I’m saved by the AI device alerting me that there is a visitor at the door. The tailor.
Emma greets him like a long-lost friend, excitedly telling him that she can now speak Gryton.
The tailor, who Emma addresses as Petier, bows. “This will make my job a lot easier,” he says to Emma, then turns to me, “Did you like the dress I made yesterday, Prince Tor?”
“Very much so.”
“I took the liberty of preparing some other similar ones for your Omega.”
“And I’d like you to make her some undergarments too.”
Emma coughs and glares at both of us. “Hadn’t you better ask what I’d like seeing as I’m going to be the one wearing these clothes?”
I take a seat. It is hard to remember that Emma is different from other Omegas. Now we are home, I find myself slipping into my old ways and my old habits.
The tailor looks to me for guidance.
“Emma is correct. It is her you must ask.”
“You didn’t like the dress?” he asks Emma, obviously offended.
“No, I LOVED the dress, but maybe something lighter and easy to move around in would be good. Fewer layers.”
She’s right those layers had been nothing but a nuisance.
“As long as it isn’t orange,” I tell her.
The tailor huffs. “No orange.”
“I like orange!”
“But orange does not like you,” the tailor says and to my surprise Emma laughs.
“What do you think would suit me, then?”
“Most Omegas tend to like lighter, pastel colours.”
Emma shakes her head. “Something bolder.”
“The blue yesterday suited you, but also I think green, maybe a deep purple.”
“Oooo yes I’d love deep purple.”
“I can make you a purple gown for the banquet tonight.”
“Yes, please.”
“In the meantime, would you like to see what I have made you? You can choose something for today?”
Emma follows him to the large trunk that two droids have brought into the room with the tailor. He presses a button on its lid and it opens up like a flower displaying three gowns, one yellow, one white, and one pink. Emma runs her hand over the gowns, rustling the material between her fingers and marvelling at the gem stones sewn into the bodice.
“These are so beautiful. You are very talented,” she tells the tailor. “Do you make the dresses for all the Omegas?”
“All the best Omegas,” he says, with a twinkle in his eye. Taking the white gown from the hanger, he holds it up for Emma to take a better look. “Would you like to try it on? It is a lighter material than the blue.”
“I’ve only met Tor’s mum.” She slides off the robe and the tailor averts his eyes as I glare at him, even though he is a Beta and of no interest to my Omega. “What are the others like?”
Petier shrugs. “They don’t tend to speak to me.”
“They don’t?”
The tailor casts a cautious glance my way as Emma slides her arms through the gown. “Betas are expected to serve. It is the way things are.” There is the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice.
Emma’s cheeks flame and for once she appears lost for words. Finally as Petier straightens out the skirt of the dress, she asks him, “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Petier’s gaze falls straight to the floor.
“Emma, you can’t—”
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just …”
The tailor regains his composure. “You are just curious, as I’m sure I would be if I’d just landed on a new planet.”
Emma nods and smiles at him. “It’s a lot to get my head around.”
I stare at the both of them. The tailor may not be an Alpha but something tells me he understands my Omega better than me.
“Do you live in the palace?” Emma asks him when the silence seems to stretch.
“No, Betas are not allowed to live in the palace.”
“Oh,” Emma says, the pink in her cheeks darkening to a red.
“I live in the city.”
“I’d like to see the city too!”
Petier meets my eye.
“Omegas may not leave the safety of the palace,” I tell her.
“Don’t be silly, Tor. You can take me if you’re worried about my safety or whatever.”
“No, Emma. It is forbidden.”
“Forbidden by who?”
“It has always been that way,” the tailor says stiffly.
Emma swings round to face me, her dress billowing as it swishes about her legs. “You’re telling me I can’t leave the palace?”
I hesitate. “Yes.”
Chapter 9 — Emma
As we glide towards the Great Hall this time, I stare out at my new home with less curiosity and more frustration. Tor promised me we’d explore the universe together, now it sounds like I won’t even be able to explore his planet. The walls of the palace suddenly seem more imposing and impenetrable than magnificent and regal. My throat tightens as I look out at the Grytons and see only smartly dressed Alphas and the many guards on patrol. I spy no Omegas and the Betas that hurry about do so with their eyes lowered, their clothes plain and dull.
What kind of world is this?
Tor’s fingers stroke up my side and eventually they wander to the hot gland at the back of my neck. He wants to claim me. I know it’s always on his mind — even more so now we are here and he thinks it will keep me safe. But the action of him taking me like that, creating this bond he believes unbreakable, seems more of a chain than ever before. If I let him do it, I’ll never be able to leave here, not without Tor, and as we stop before the leering statues of his dad that thought seems suddenly terrifying.
“Are you alright, Emma?” Tor asks me, clearly reading the unease in my scent and the tension in my shoulders.
I manage a tight smile. “It’s just all different here.”
“But good? You like it?”
I peer back to the window. “It’s too early for me to answer that, Tor.”
“There is still so much to show you. I promise you will come to love this planet as much as I do.” His words are so earnest. He wants me to be happy. And I want to please him.
I stroke his cheek and he catches my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “I’ll fix this all, Omega.”
I hope he is right. We step out of the vehicle and find a crowd waiting outside the entrance to the Great Hall.
“Why is it so busy?” I ask as he takes my arm and we stroll towards the entrance, other Grytons making way when they see who passes.
“Word has spread about you—”
“And they’ve come to stare at the alien.”
“Maybe but it is also the day my father lays down judgements. Some have come to make appeals to our leader, others to answer their crimes. It is a great source of entertainment.”
“It is?” I can’t help stiffening beside him. I know those shows were popular back home — live broadcasts of trials and sentencings — but I always hated them. There was always so much sadness behind the razzmatazz of the court; lives ruined, families hurt. It felt wrong to watch it.
We make our way up the steps to the entrance but before we can step through, a loud commotion sounds from within. Tor steps back quickly, pulling me with him, as several soldiers come marching out, dragging a Gryton Beta between them. The Beta shrieks, twisting in their arms, throwing his head over his shoulder to plead to those behind him. He is young, younger than me, and his eyes are wide with fear, his cheeks damp with tears. After the Beta and the soldiers race an older woman and man, clasping each other’s arms, tears streaking down their own faces as they call to the Gryton who must be their son.
I squeeze Tor’s arm, my voice high with alarm when I speak to him, “What’s going on?”
“I do not know for sure,” he says, “But it is likely my father has ordered the Beta’s execution.”
“Execution? What?” My stomach plummets. “What did the man do?”
“I do not know. Something to displease my father I assume.”
“I don’t understand. There was a trial, right? Your dad can’t just order an execution, can he?”
“Of a Beta, yes. Only Alphas are awarded the privilege of a trial on Astia.”
“But that’s …” I tug on his arm, “you have to do something, Tor! He’s just a boy!”
“Do something?” He stares at me in clear bewilderment. “What can I do? My father’s word is the law on Astia. Once uttered, no one can overturn it. Even asking such a thing would meet with my father’s wrath.” He collects himself, rubbing his hand over the flat of my back. “Emma,” he says, “You must trust my father’s judgement. He is Lord Alpha of Astia, wise and fair. If he ordered this punishment, then it was justly deserved.”
I think he says these things to try to calm me. There is a lack of conviction in his tone, like he doesn’t truly believe what he is saying.
I swallow and take a deep breath. What else can I do? My unease with Tor’s planet is growing by the minute. I’m not sure this is somewhere I belong and I want to take Tor’s hand and race with him back to our ship and disappear into space. But this is his home, would he even leave with me?
My eyes wander to the retreating figures of the desperate Beta family and my heart aches for them.
“I can try, Emma,” Tor says, his hand cupping my chin, “If it would make you happy?”
I shake my head. “You shouldn’t want to change things because it makes me happy. Don’t you see how unfair things are here? How can you stand back and just watch?”
He takes a step back and the colours on his skin darken, his composure stiffening. “You don’t know what it is to be a Gryton, to live under my father’s rule,” he hisses in a terse whisper and a pain I’ve not seen before flickers in his eyes. I know he hates much of what his dad does, how he treats his mother, how he was separated from her as a young boy. I know he thinks it wrong that his dad claims all the Omegas for himself, leaving the others with no families of their own. But does he see further than his own nose, his own companions, his own concerns?
And suddenly I know that I don’t want to flee. I want to stay and make him see. I step towards him, closing the space between us and taking his arm. “I know. You are right.”
Just like yesterday, we make our way to the front of the Great Hall, even more dazzling as sunlight pours through the coloured windows and bathes the Grytons within in a rainbow of hues. Like before, the Grytons gather round to watch me pass, whispering to each other and leaning forward to obtain a better look. This time, however, we take a seat at the end of the hall, close to the throne where Tor’s dad sits conducting his business.
Grytons come and go, presenting in front of Astia’s leader, stating their business and awaiting his judgement. His advisor and son, Prince Dram, choreographs the whole thing, ushering people forward, whispering in the leader’s ear, signalling for guards to move in. But I hardly notice what is happening — my mind straying again and again to the desperate young Beta and the words of the tailor. Still, I’m aware of the many pairs of eyes trained my way. I’ve never been the centre of attention before and I have to sit on my hands to stop from fidgeting.
Finally, the proceedings of the court end and the many Grytons here to watch file away. We wait though, Tor wanting to take this opportunity to speak with his dad again.
When the hall is empty, we are beckoned over. Only Tor’s dad, his guards and his advisor remain.
“Your Omega is quite the hit,” Tor’s dad says, peering down at us from the height of his throne. The light pouring through the decorative window behind him, means his face lies in shadow, but his scarlet eyes gleam in the dark.
“Me?” I squeak but the Alphas ignore me.
“There is talk all across the capital of the beautiful alien Omega you have brought to Astia. My court judgments do not usually draw such a crowd.”
I almost want to laugh. Is he trying to flatter me? And how would he even know up there on his throne what the people of his city really think — although Tor tells me he has spies everywhere?
Next to me, Tor’s hold on my arm grows tighter. I wait for him to speak, but the advisor does first.
“You wanted to talk to our father?” he asks and his tone is so full of hostility, I can’t help drawing closer to Tor. What has passed between these brothers?
Tor dips his head, then lifts his chin to meet his dad’s gaze. I hold my breath, gripping his arm so hard I must be hurting him.
“I come to tell you that I will not take the Omega Sia as my mate. I have my Omega, I have a child coming into this world, I have no need for another. Give Sia to one of my brothers.”
The scents in the hall shift immediately, aggression curling through the air. Tor’s dad glares at him with such ferocity, I’m surprised laser beams don’t spring from his bright red eyes. Tor does not flinch though. He stands tall, refusing to cower.
My lungs scream for air but I am too afraid to release my breath. I think again of the Beta dragged from the hall and wonder if we have just signed our own death warrants.
Dram’s gaze flicks between his brother and his dad. He raises a hand to speak, “It may cause bitterness among the other Alphas if you were seen to favour Tor with two Omegas, when others have none,” Tor’s brother says.
I glare at him, despite his words in favour of our cause, I don’t like the way these Alphas talk about Omegas as if they were nothing more than possessions, pretty ornaments to collect.
The leader’s scarlet eyes land on me, as he drums his long fingers on the carved arms of his throne. “Perhaps you are correct, Dram.” There is silence as his striking eyes assess me, and I hold my breath, hoping he can be won over. “But this peace has been hard negotiated. Making changes to the treaty now could throw agreement into chaos once again.”
“If you would let me speak with the governor, explain—”
“No!” Lord Qudrat snaps. “You will not undermine my negotiations.” He pauses again and leans down so Dram can whisper in his ear. His red eyes find mine. “Let me think on this some more.”
And then we are dismissed.
* * *
Tor’s uncle waits for us outside the hall, the crowds now dispersed. He bows low to me.
“I understand you now speak our language?” he says.
“Yes, I can.”
“Then we can now be formally introduced. I am Lord Max, Prince Tor’s uncle, brother to Lord Qudrat.”
“Very nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Emma.”
He stares at me for several long seconds. “Tor is an exceptionally lucky Alpha to have found such a beautiful Omega.”
I can’t help screwing up my nose and looking down at my round belly. But Tor rests his hand on my shoulder.
“You have no idea, Uncle, just how lucky I am.”
“Oh I do,” says the older Alpha. He looks very much like his brother, Lord Qudrat, except the lines on his face are less severe and his eyes are more of a sunset orange than a blood red. “Are you returning to your chambers?”
“Can we walk?” I ask.
“Walk?” the uncle says, his eyes flicking to Tor. “You are the mate of a prince. There is no need to walk.”
“My Omega wants to see more of our palace,” Tor explains.
The older Alpha bows his head. “Then may I accompany you?”
“Of course, Uncle. I would welcome your counsel,” Tor replies, and my heart sinks a little. I’d hoped it would be just the two of us and we could talk more about what has just passed.
“What troubles you?” his uncle asks as we begin to make our way through the weaving passageways. It’s noon now, and the sun beats down on our heads, the palace gleaming so brightly I have to squint up my eyes.
“Are you aware of the terms on which my father brokered peace with the East?”
“Yes, I am. It seems you are a very lucky Alpha. So young and yet two Omegas to your claim.”
“For fuck’s sake, can everybody stop talking about me as if I’m an ornament to add to Tor’s collection?!”
Tor’s uncle stares at me. “Perhaps it will take some time for your Omega to adapt to her ways. Her words are not quite as gentle as her appearance.”
I glare at Tor. “Emma is a fierce warrior, Uncle. She has slain the Alphas who were sent to kill me.”
“Oh yes, of course,” his uncle says, clasping his hands behind his back as he walks, his long, heavy cloak billowing out behind him. “So what did you wish to talk with me about?”
“I will not take another mate. I made a vow to my Omega that she would be my only Omega and this was one of the conditions on which she agreed to come with me here.”
I agreed to come with him, because I love him, but I doubt his uncle would understand that so I let it lie.
“But we know the war has been a long and bloody one,” I say, “we don’t wish to be the cause of any more lives lost. Tor hoped he could convince his dad to choose another of his sons to marry — I mean mate with — the governor’s daughter.”
“And what did your father say?”
“He said he would think on it some more,” Tor says.
“It seemed to me he might change his mind,” I add hopefully.
But Tor’s uncle halts. “He won’t change his mind, Tor. You know that as well as I. Once my brother has chosen a particular path, he will not be diverted. If he wants you to mate the governor’s Omega, then you will have to.”
“But surely if he saw reason—”
Tor’s uncle cackles. “When has reason ever come into it with Qudrat? Your only hope is for the governor himself to insist the terms of the treaty are changed.”
“My father has forbidden me to speak with him.”
The older Alpha’s eyes float to the sky as if he is thinking. “Then you will have to go to him in secret.”
Tor’s eyes flick from side to side before he speaks again, “My father would see that as treason.”
“Then we will tell him that your alien Omega is unwell with the pregnancy and that you have taken her to the Southern lands for a few days rest. I will smooth it with your father, make him believe this, while you travel to the East in secret.”
