Page 22 of The Pregnancy Pact

“What would I—I don’t know. What do you want to say? Do you want this? Do you want to be married to me?”

She’d stalked several spaces closer and stood six inches from me, her face pale and her eyes glittering. Her chest heaved. She was so emotional, I thought with a slight measure of distaste. Druea had never betrayed her emotions so forthrightly. It was not done among Asterion females. I wasn’t certain I liked it. On the other hand, there was something to be said concerning the honesty of portraying one’s emotions, I supposed.

“I do not,” I finally replied. “It is folly indeed. I never intended to wed you. It is against all laws and decorum for an Asterion Elder to marry a human female. Which,” I admitted, with disgust at myself, “the captain said he reminded me of last night, but I would not be dissuaded.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t, huh?” she growled. “Listen, your lordship, I don’t care if you wouldn’t be dissuaded last night. Apparently, we were both drunk off our asses last night. You don’t want to be married to me, and I sure as hell don’t want to be married to you. So, we have to find a way to fix this. And quick!”

She was not wrong, yet I dislike being addressed so sharply.

“Know your place, female,” I snapped, stepping towards her. “Whether you are now legally my wife or no, you haven’t the privilege of speaking to me in that fashion.”

“Because I’m still a lowly human?” she sneered. “That’s fine by me. You use your status and authority to get me out of this and back on my ship. You’ll never have to hear me sass you again. Deal?”

“I don’t make deals with humans,” I objected coldly. “However, one thing I can promise you: this marriage will be ended. If not by us on this ship, then as soon as we arrive on my home planet. Even if we wished to uphold it—”

“Which we don’t,” she interjected.

“Even if we did, the Council of Elders would see to it that the marriage is annulled. Under no circumstances can an Overlord of my position be married to a human. You may put your faith in that. It is that simple.”

Chapter 11

Lorelai

As it turned out, it was not that simple. While my stomach tied itself in knots that disallowed me to eat any of the food the flight attendant served—along with a hearty dish of cold stares for me—we waited to be connected to the spokesperson of the Asterion Council. Ellax—I’d decided since we were, apparently, legally married, despite neither of us having any true memories of it, that I should start calling him by his name—put in the call but was told the signal was spotty, likely due to our passing through the asteroid belt. And the spokesperson was busy. We received an encrypted text message, which passed easier than a video call, confirming that our request had been received, and the spokesperson would call as soon as she was available.

From then on, there was nothing to do except wait. Ellax appeared completely unbothered. He sat down at the dining table that had almost magically popped out of the floor, uncovered the trays, and commenced a hearty breakfast. I paced and chewed on nothing except my fingernails. I’d figured I was doing okay handling my anxiety. After all, I wasn’t crying, screaming, throwing a fit, or even badgering the Overlord. In fact, I was pretty proud of myself for letting him enjoy his breakfast in peace. I supposed he didn’t see it that way, for he broke the silence with,

“That is a vile habit. One you must break.”

I spun on my heel, dropping my hand from my mouth. “What?”

“I said that is a vile habit,” he repeated, gesturing towards my hands with his fork. “Do you know what diseases can be trapped beneath fingernails? At any rate, you are too old to be chewing your nails, like an adolescent.”

The criticism hit me like a ton of bricks. The fact that my nerves were already strung to the breaking point didn’t help anything. I spun and paced to the window, bracing myself with a forearm against the glass, breathing deep to stop the tears. In my head, all I heard was Charlie.

Lose some weight, Lorelai.

Have you considered dieting?

It’s really annoying when you nag me all the time.

You treat me like a child.

Why don’t you wear makeup every day?

Your clothes could use a refresher. Something younger.

Never mind. That’s too young. You should dress your age.

And on and on and on it had went.

Little had I known, the more complaints Charlie had, the more women he was sleeping with.

This wasn’t the same situation, but the words hit me with nearly the same impact. Beating me down. Wearing me down with the same message—You’re not good enough.

Clearly, the Overlord didn’t realize what he’d done. Or, if he did, he didn’t care. While I struggled to bring myself under control, he continued his breakfast. I could hear the occasional scrape of his fork over the porcelain plate, and the sounds of thick mug as he raised and lowered it.

I don’t know what he thought I was doing by the window, but he finally pushed back his chair, rose, and walked over to me.

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