Page 30 of Alien Desire
“I am unsure. Some force took control of my ship and the next thing I knew I was hurtling out of control towards this planet.”
“Were you searching for other universes?” Her eyes sparkle. From her stories I know she likes adventures. “There is so much more of this universe I want to see — and to think there are others!”
I look her in the eye. “No, I was searching for Omegas.”
She flinches. “What?”
“It is complicated,” I say.
“Tor,” she says.
“My father considers me a threat to his leadership of our world. I believe he sent me on a futile quest in order to remove me without the need to take more violent means that would result in an uprising.”
“Your father, he’s what, a king or something?”
“He is the leader of our world.”
“Of the Omegas and Alphas.”
“And Betas too.”
“And so you’re … a prince?”
“My father has many mates and many children,” I say, unable to help the bitterness leaking into my voice.
“You think this is wrong.”
“One Alpha does not need all the Omegas. They should be shared among the Alphas.”
She jumps up from my lap and takes a large step away from me. Her face darkens as if a storm is brewing inside. “Shared! Like meat? Like cattle? To do your breeding and satisfy your carnal needs?”
Once again I do not understand what she means or why she is cross.
“Every Alpha deserves to be with their mate, to build a family with his or her Omega.” I add quickly, “Every Omega deserves this too. My mother has to share my father’s attention. She deserves more.”
“So if you were leader you’d change all this? You wouldn’t just take all the Omegas for yourself?” Her tone is laced with anger.
“I need only one Omega,” I say quietly, meeting her eye. Her features soften for a fleeting moment and then the rage returns.
“Does your mum love your dad? Does he love her back? Did she have a choice to be his?”
“Love?” I search for a meaning in my head and find nothing. The translation device scrabbles for one too and finds no comparable expression or word.
“Love,” she snaps. “Do they love each other?”
“I don’t understand,” I say simply and she looks at me with astonishment.
“Do you love your mum?”
“I don’t understand, Emma,” I say with irritation.
“You care for her. You are concerned for her welfare. You worry about her. You want to be with her. You enjoy her company.”
“Yes.” Although, it is this feeling that has caused me to be an object of jest.
“That’s love.” She frowns and rubs at her temple. “Although it’s a different type of love.” Her eyes dart about as she searches for the words. “In my world, we fall in love and those are the people we commit to be with for the rest of our life.”
“Your mate.”
