Page 26 of The Pregnancy Pact

“You bastard,” she snapped. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? My life, my thoughts, my feelings don’t matter because I’m human. Is that right?”

I shrugged. “Well, comparatively speaking. If you were at home on Earth, you would likely be given to an Overlord as a breeder. Despite being a little old for that role, you have born two sons, which proves you are capable of carrying and bringing forth offspring.”

“Well, I guess that’s what I’m supposed to do for you, now, isn’t it?” she snapped. She rose, bracing her feet as if steadying herself for a fight. Her fists were clenched at her sides. “You heard what the spokesperson said, didn’t you? The Council thinks you need an heir. And they think you need a human wife. So, logically, if you have a human wife—that means they think you need a half-human heir. And if I’m your human wife, that means they think we need to have a baby together.”

I blinked at her. Yes, I’d heard everything Spokesperson Ventara had said. I supposed, in the surprise of the moment, the full implications hadn’t settled upon me.

“That is not…” I stopped. Why protest? That was exactly what Ventara was indicating.

“Oh, it’s not?” The human woman was not finished yet. “I’m pretty damn sure it is! What better way to seal the deal with human and Asterion relations than for a damn Asterion Elder to produce a legitimate half-human heir?”

It was very reasonable. It was also very unpleasant. An Asterion on Earth fathering half-human children was all very well. But for a nobleman, an Asterion like myself?

My mouth twisted as I considered the ignominy of a half-human child on my home planet. I had seen such creatures before. Sometimes their skin was as dark as ours, sometimes not. Sometimes their eyes were golden like ours, sometimes not. Sometimes their ears were not our normal wedge-shape. To my mind, most infants were homely enough. Throw human features into the mix, and they become truly unpleasant to behold.

“Yes,” Lorelai said, her arms now folded across her ample breasts—which were admittedly still shapely for a woman her age, particularly for a mother who had birthed two children and likely nursed them. “I can tell by your face that you’re loving this idea. It was all fine for me to be upset about it because my life’s been thrown into a corkscrew. The shoe doesn’t fit so well now that it’s on the other foot, does it?”

I may not have known precisely what her odd terminology meant about shoes, but I could tell she was mocking me in her own way.

“Let us have one thing straight,” I said, stepping towards her. “My life is more important that yours. My role in the Interstellar Coalition is more important that yours on a space ship. My offspring are more important that yours, and I am more important than you. Now, you may choose to be angry and resentful over it, or you may accept the truth…which, you’d best accept it, if we are to be stuck together in this farce of a marriage. You’d best learn your role, female. The sooner you learn it, the happier you will be.”

I’d anticipated her being angry. Truthfully, my former wife, Druea, would have been angry over such a speech too, despite its veracity. Hadn’t human invented the quaint little saying, The truth hurts? Yes, the truth was painful sometimes. I did not expect her to accept my words without absorbing the sting. And yet, what I did not expect was for her to take the words, take the sting, and retaliate as she did.

Which was for her hand to flash up and her palm to strike my cheek with all the force she could muster. I felt my head whip to the side beneath the force of the blow. Felt the smart of her flesh striking mine.

“You bastard,” she hissed. “I don’t care what all the councils and coalitions in the universe declare—I’ll never be your wife and I’ll never give you a baby!”

Before I could call her back, before I could catch her arm to stop her, she’d run for the door, used the handle to fling it open, and fled outside. I saw a glimpse of her form turning to the left before the door slid closed behind her.

“Well,” I said quietly. “This bodes well for our future marriage.”

Chapter 14

Ellax

Ihad never chased down a female before. On the rare occasion Druea had walked out of a conversation with me, it was with her dignity intact. She was making the point that she still retained control over herself, and would not be bullied by me. I, of course, had never followed her, allowing her time to think and reconsider. Also, truth be told, I usually hadn’t cared a great deal about Druea walking out. It meant I could give my attention to other things.

Now?

I was on a space ship, headed for Asterion. Yes, I could pull out my computer, my communication screens, and work. There was always work to be done. Nothing pressing however. No deadlines. No tasks that demanded my immediate attention. Truthfully? The only thing that demanded my immediate attention was the problem at hand.

I had a human wife whom I did not want.

I had a human wife who did not want me.

I had a human wife who had run from me.

I needed to track her down and help her return—for propriety’s sake, if nothing else. I could ill afford scandal, especially since the mere fact that I had a human wife would be shameful enough.

J’tet!

What to do? I debated, pacing as a I rubbed my chin in thought. How could I bring this female to heel? Logic did not resonate with her. Neither did humility. She ought to be honored that one in my position had lowered himself to marry one of her humble rank, even though we were both drunk at the time.

If only there was someone from whom to ask advice on silly humans and their capricious ways. I readily admitted that this species, especially their females, was not one I understood. Then again, I’d spent scant time around them, apart from those occasions when I’d taken one to bed, discarding her as soon as copulation was complete. I’d also passed the occasional minutes in the company of human ambassadors, but they barely attracted my notice. No. Humans were not a species I understood. Nor had I ever cared to.

I continued to pace, my feet moving restlessly from one end of my bedchamber to the other as my mind spun over my quandary.

If Council did not relent, I would have to alter my stance on ignoring humans. Trying to understand them would become crucial.

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