Page 6 of Betrothed to the Alien Mercenary

“Then you must understand that, with the exception of an Akilidian navigator, nothing could rival a telepathically connected set of Asrai twins at the helm.” She was correct; such setups were the most coveted in the entire quadrant. The Asrai twins' ability to share information made their movements as a navigator and pilot pair uncanny. It was no wonder that the Varakartoom had a reputation for appearing out of thin air on more than one occasion.

This woman knew how to speak with tact and appeared to have a very good grasp of how tenuous the trust was between my party and hers. Every piece of information I had on the Varakartoom told me they were a crew of their word, but they just as easily took jobs on the wrong side of the law as the right side. I could not disregard Theronix’s warning that they might sell me out if they knew I was not the real princess.

“Thank you,” I said, ready to withdraw and deal with the pounding of my heart and my clammy palms. It had never been this hard to pretend to be Evadne as it was now that she was gone. I wanted to go back to that moment when Aramon stood in front of me, standing up for me, that moment when, for a brief flash, everything felt all right. Since I knew that couldn’t happen again, and since it was a fallacy anyway, withdrawing was the next best thing. I had what I came for—answers—and another look at the male that had my stomach in knots.

“Mandy is right,” Aramon said, just as I started to turn away. I froze, my chin lifting automatically to look him in the eye, and I felt that gaze like a punch to the gut. It was potent, full of heat and desire, and it pulled the same yearning out of me. “Solear and I, we’ll get you where you need to go like this.” He snapped his fingers together with a loud cracking noise. “We were just about to announce an FTL jump when you walked in, Princess. Why don’t you watch?” He gestured at the jump seats located against the back wall of the bridge.

Theronix began to interfere immediately, his sensibilities too offended by Aramon’s behavior to let it slide any longer. “Captain, I suggest you find a different male to fulfill the required position on Princess Evadne’s security detail. This male is clearly unsuited. Princess, allow me to escort you to more appropriate seating.” He clasped his hand around my elbow, and the insistent pressure against the sensitive nerves nearly made me buckle in reflex. He meant business, and he wouldneverhave made a move like that if I were truly Evadne. He was manhandling me while pretending to act like a gentleman.

I rebelled when I might have made a more sensible choice otherwise. A choice that wouldn’t involve a male that set my blood on fire and made me feel like I was completely out of control while on the most dangerous mission of my life. “No, I wish to observe from here, Theronix.” I twisted my arm in a practiced move designed to escape a too-tight grip, and I knew that all these combat-trained men on the bridge recognized that motion for what it was; I’d made no effort to hide it.

Aramon’s head lowered, a growl rumbling in the air, and his red eyes glowed brighter from inside his deep-set eye sockets, the look made all the more sinister and macabre by the skull-like white markings that covered his face and hairless head. “The lady has spoken,” he warned darkly, and then it was he who was moving to take my arm, gently, so very gently, and guide me to the jumpseat. He was grinning by the time the crew on the bridge started to murmur, and one even openly laughed.

As I arranged myself in the seat as though I were wearing a ballgown, rather than a gray, shapeless jumpsuit, I pinned Aramon with a fierce stare. I did not feel fierce like that, but I knew I had to put him in his place before he started to think he could get away with touching me uninvited. “Of course, Theronix has a point. You are extremely rude, pilot. I shall have to educate you before we reach Ov’Korad, lest you get both of us killed.”

That made Aramon toss back his head and guffaw loudly and very rudely, as if I’d made one hell of a joke. “Fuck yeah, teach me, Princess.” The response made my belly clench with a sharp lance of desire, and instead of etiquette lessons, I was suddenly imagining Aramon on his knees between my naked thighs. Damn it, what was wrong with me?

“Very well,” I said through dry lips. “Proceed.” I gestured at the front of the bridge, “Take us to FTL.” There was a second of silence, followed by an annoyed huff from the captain, but then he started barking orders and making an announcement over the ship-wide intercom.

Theronix strapped himself into the seat next to mine and double-checked my harness before sitting back, arms crossed and a frown on his face. I knew that he was overstepping his position as head guard and that he would never have shown his displeasure that openly if I were Evadne. Suddenly, I feared that he was going to be the one to give the game away.

The captain’s mate, Mandy apparently, took the seat on my other side, and the captain himself personally came to double-check her buckles. He was tender as he pulled on the straps, then kissed her before slithering to his seat with a final, lingering touch of his tail around her ankle. She gave me a gentle, slightly awkward smile and winced when Theronix leaned around me to give her a warning glare.

Enough of that. “Will you tell me about the crew? I’d like to get to know them,” I invited the woman. That was all it took. She started to talk with a warm look in her eyes, describing the males aboard the ship as her family, though she admitted to being only a recent addition herself. I would have never guessed; she seemed right at home. I listened as she talked and asked questions at the right moment; I’d been trained by the best conversationalists. I could keep a conversation going in my sleep. My eyes were stuck on the back of Aramon’s head as he worked with his twin to launch us into speeds Faster-Than-Light.

It was one of the most awe-inspiring things I’d ever seen, and it drove home how connected an Asrai was to his twin. They did not need to speak out loud to communicate, effortlessly anticipating whatever the other needed. The jump through FTL was also nothing like any jumps I’d experienced before. It was… smoother somehow, but that made no sense. I’d flown with ships that were the best of the best before, ships straight from Strewn’s best collection. Nothing but their skills could account for the way I felt as we hurtled at impossible speeds through space.

Aramon tilted his head and grinned at me over his shoulder, one red eye closing in a teasing wink. He knew I was watching him and flaunted what he could do without shame or humility.

Chapter 5

Aramon

For three days straight, I’d been working closely with Solear through jump after jump. The Varakartoom needed to cool her engines after running this fast as often as she had, and that was when I’d been summoned to see the Princess. I was ready to burst from my skin in excitement; my body felt achy from the work and from her absence.

It had been good for me—and good for Solear—to work so closely together. I felt that with him being in my mind as much as he had been, he was finally starting to understand what I felt for my Xurtal beauty. It was reaching the point where I worried he might fixate on her, and if he did, I knew my instincts would compel me to fight. I hated fighting with my brother, but nobody got to lust aftermywoman. The Princess was going to be mine. The ship was already abuzz with talk about it, and I let them talk because I wanted everyone to know I had staked my claim.

I ducked into the mess hall, my belly filled with fire, my eyes immediately searching for the moss green and emerald of the Xurtal homeworld. Her scent hit me first, the hints of something floral and sweet, notes that were all feminine and all her. She stood by one of the long tables near the viewscreen faux windows that lined the longest wall of the mess hall. Her back was to me, and I admired her curves, outlined by the simple gray jumpsuit.

Despite not owning any clothing worthy of a princess right now, she still made that plain suit look like the finest dress. It was because she was so fucking graceful and sexy, her chin at a dainty, royal angle, her shoulders and spine perfectly straight. When she turned on her soft slippers, it was like she’d just executed a turn in a dance or some shit; that was the only way I could describe the way she moved.

A lesser man than I would have felt self-conscious, but that wasn’t in me. I knew I was out of her league—miles and miles out of it—but I didn’t give a damn. That woman was my mate, and by the time this mission was over, this fake marriage was going to be very,veryreal. To do that, I knew I had to be unapologetically myself and trust that the mate bond had matched me with a female who could appreciate that. But I also knew that some compromises might have to be made. I was terrible at that, but I’d figure it out.

“Aramon, thank you so much for coming,” Evadne said, her voice perfectly pitched to reach my ears without seeming to raise her tone. Her eyes were a warm ruby, and a soft smile graced her lush mouth. I could sense her attraction to me, and I was going to work with that. It was going to befun.

I raised a hand and waved, my energy levels rising in her presence. My thighs ached as I forced myself to restrain the urge to bounce on the balls of my feet. That didn’t work out the way I wanted; I found myself striding across the room in a rush and invading her personal space before I could grasp at some semblance of control. I tended to invade space all the time—it was one of my favorite tactics to put people on edge—but that’s not why I did it with her. I just wanted to be closer, as close as she’d let me.

“Morning, Princess,” I drawled. The heat in my belly was blazing brighter, and I knew she’d see it in my eyes. If she wasn’t a princess, if she were an Asrai female, I would throw all caution to the wind and pin her to the table behind her, kiss her right that instant. Since her ramrod-straight spine made me feel like she had her hackles up, I refrained, but barely. The hint of restraint and resistance she was showing, they were a turn-on; I wanted to taste it.

“Are you ready for your lessons?” she said, but when I opened my mouth to reply, she rushed on. I was pretty sure that was against her etiquette and protocols, and it made me grin; she was nervous. “I thought we’d start with the rules of dining. Ovters are very strict about their rules and protocols, so we must adhere to them as best as we can.” She kept rambling, something about eyeballs and Ovter tongues, but I stopped paying attention and fixated on her mouth.

Her lips were dark green, but her tongue was a deep pink, and I wanted to have a taste. Her scent was all around me, and when I shifted closer, she did not move back. I wondered what her guard would think if he saw us right now. He’d have a conniption, no doubt, and I craved seeing that. I loved chaos, loved poking them where they were most sensitive, and that male was very sensitive about a lot of things.

“Are you even listening?” Evadne asked in a firm tone that managed to penetrate my rapidly spinning brain. I yanked my thoughts back from the dangerous precipice just in time, or I really would have leaned in and closed the final distance. She was frowning, but her scent had spiked with her heat. I could see her pulse pounding rapidly at her neck and the way her perked nipples poked against the fabric of her clothing.

“Definitely not,” I said with a smirk, and laughed when that made her eyes grow huge with surprise. I was willing to bet my little princess had never had a male say that to her, but I didn’t like lying, and speaking my mind often had fantastic results. Not always what I wanted, but fun all the same.

“This is important, Aramon!” she said. Unfortunately, she seemed to realize how close I was standing and jerked back with a surprising amount of grace; that stuff was ingrained in her. A whisper of her slipper as she glided her foot back, not a single glass or piece of silverware jangling as her hip pressed against the table. I wanted to make her lose her poise so badly that it was tempting to reach up and ruffle her moss-colored hair.

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