Page 7 of Alien Wants A Wife

Well fu— I mean, fiddlesticks.

LOVE GALAXYisone of those tacky dating shows. Lydia’s mouth is open, but she’s too surprised to speak. That, or she’s too furious.

To say I’m shocked would be an understatement; this is exactly what I’d been praying wouldn’t happen. If this moment hadn’t been two years in the making, I’d probably be preparing to storm out. As it is… well, I guess I should be grateful it’s not me dressed in the alien costume.

And maybe it’s not too late to persuade the crew to take a different creative direction…

Frowning, Mr. Smith pushes his way past. Chloe smiles, seemingly unsurprised to see him dressed up. He doesn’t return the smile, just walks down the ramp, presumably expecting the three of us to follow.

“Excellent.” Chloe turns her smile on Lydia and me. “Remember, don’t look directly at the cameras. Pretend they’re not there, and be yourselves,” she adds, squeezing first my hand in a show of support. “That’s my best advice. The audience, and the guys, will be able to tell straight away if you lie.”

“Of course.” My heart lurches. Which is ridiculous because I’m not lying. I’m being myself: this new, better version of myself. The version everyone will love.

Roan

“Walk down the stairs,” John Smith says. “And for the love of God, stop looking directly at the cameras.”

“Easy.” I straighten my shoulders and immediately make accidental eye contact with the lens of the closest camera. It isclipped to the handrailing and is staring straight at me. I turn my gaze toward the ceiling, pretending that did not happen.

Beside me, John Smithhumphs.

“I can manage,” I assure him. At the bottom of the stairs is my family’s kitchen, and in the kitchen awaits the first two Female contestants. They are talking quietly with my eldest brother, and their voices are trailing up the stairs tantalizingly. I strain to hear their individual words, but they are too distant for me to interpret clearly.

“Start from the beginning,” John Smith orders, and I trip over my own feet as I return to my starting position at the head of the staircase, keen to get going.

John Smith examines his datapad, reviewing the various camera angles, ensuring everything is working. Behind me, stands another Female. She is holding a microphone and has another camera trained on her face, ready to commentate on descent, as if walking down stairs is an intergalactic sport.

She is the first and only Human I have seen, and as I wait for John Smith to give me the go ahead again, I peek over my shoulder, watching her.

If the Female contestants are comparable with this crew member, then my brothers and I are going to be lucky indeed.

She is … small. Much smaller than I had been expecting. With hairs instead of scales, and a smooth brow. She is dressed in clothes which cover her torso, leaving only her head, arms and feet bare. Resting on her nose, she wears a metal frame that circles and magnifies each of her eyes. The frames have two arms, which curve back over her ears, holding them in place at the center of her face. I have not seen such a contraption before. Is it… decorative? Functional? Mayhaps each piece of circular glass is a miniature screen, displaying information right before her eyes and prompting her commentary.

“Right,” John Smith says, drawing my attention back to him.

Inside my chest, it feels as though my heart is doing backflips, excitement and anticipation causing me to bounce on the balls of my feet, eager to meet the contestants. Eager to meet my forever Mate.

Who will she be?

“On the count of three, Roan. And three.” The Drah’os Male waves one of his two arms through the air, signaling me to begin.

Keeping my gaze fixed squarely on the stairs’ mid-point landing, I head downward, walking significantly slower than is natural. John Smith says slowness is for ‘dramatic effect’.

COMMENTATOR CHLOE:

Roan is the youngest of the three Ril’os brothers. Born on this planet, he has never once left its atmosphere, his work on the family farm keeping him busy…

She continues talking, but I cease listening as I finally pass the landing and turn the corner, bringing the kitchen into view.

It looks strangely the same as always, with the counter across the back wall devoid of clutter and the large wooden table taking up most of the rest of the space. Except…

My gaze jumps to the two eligible Females, and I practically slide down the final stairs, coming to an abrupt halt at the table’s edge.

“I am Roan,” I announce, straightening to my full height and puffing out my chest, ensuring my shoulders are displayed to their full breadth. “Welcome to my home.”

The two Females stand, the legs of their chairs scraping against the flagstone floor.

“Hi, Roan. I’m Lydia, and this is Harlee,” The closest Human Female raises a hand in greeting, wiggling her fingers in a gesture I have not seen before but which I immediately copy, notwanting to risk appearing rude. She has pink hairs, the ends of which curl around her shoulders.

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