Forbidden Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva) Read online

  I pull on my heavy leathers and fur-lined cloak for the journey back to House Lo'ara, knowing I'll need the extra warmth the farther away I move from the Major House. The core-well that powers all light and heat in the Maan’alla, the deep underground of our cavern homes, fades in power the greater the distance from it.

  I climb on to my carriage and urge the strong, insect-like juntta through the well lit tunnel and out into unclaimed territory. Deep in thought about the possible future I may yet have, I make much of the trip back to House Lo'ara in thoughtful silence. Though my senses are still alert to any trouble I may encounter, vigilance deeply ingrained from a young age.

  It is that close attention to my surroundings that nudges me to raise my head when the sound of something other than juntta legs on stone intrudes.

  Scanning the area, I spot a small group of people walking in the distance. Keeping my eyes on them, I urge the carriage on and close the distance. When I'm close enough to see in the dim light cast by the sieni, a glowing moss, I recognize them as belonging to my House. These are my people.

  "Why are you walking?" I call out, drawing to a halt. "Where are your carriages?"

  They turn to look, then their eyes widen as they realize who I am. They bow their heads and turn to look toward an older male. He steps forward, shifting his weight from foot to foot while rubbing his hands together.

  "My Prince," he bows again. "We were on our way back from House Ti'ana, after a fruitful day at their marketplace and..."

  He looks back over at the rest of the group and a younger woman steps forward, her face set in stern lines.

  "They attacked us! House Ti'ana did, my Prince," she cries. "I believe they didn't appreciate that we took some of their business." She raises her chin in defiance. "Though it's no fault of ours that their goods are no match for our own. Perhaps if they spent more time improving the quality of the wares they sell, they wouldn't have cause to attack us."

  The others with her murmur, sneaking furtive glances at me. Their exhaustion shows in the deep lines of their faces. They're covered with dirt and bruises. My people. Beaten, stolen from, left to their own devices.

  My skin flushes hot and my lips pulling back, revealing fangs as my teeth grind together.

  Taking a deep breath, I attempt to calm myself but it's hard. I'd love nothing more than to call up my men at arms and lead an attack on Ti'ana but acting out of anger will not help and I know it. I have to be smarter than that. My people depend on me and I can't let my emotions make irrational decisions.

  Outwardly, I exude calm, even if inside I'm anything but.

  "Well. I am very sorry this has happened. Climb into the carriage and make the rest of the journey back to Lo'ara with me. I would not leave you out here alone."

  Murmurs of thanks from the small group reach my ears as they clamber into the carriage. The older man who spoke sits up front with me. That none of them gave even a token of protest shows how tired they are.

  "You know for a fact that the competition fueled this attack?" I ask, speaking softly as I click at the juntta, directing it forward once more.

  The man gives a weary nod. "They didn't hide their faces. They even told us we should mind our place." He shakes his head, his jaw tight with rage. "Never mind that their Prince agreed to allow us to sell in their marketplace. The girl, Rissia, is correct, their wares are not of good quality. If they were better made, they'd have naught to fear from us."

  I nod, thinking the problem through. "Was anyone hurt?"

  He shakes his head. "Bumps and bruises, sire. I believe it was an attempt to scare us off, so we would not return," he says, smiling thinly. "They must be unaware that the Minor Houses are built of sterner stuff than that. My mother scared us more for not keeping our bed chambers clean."

  I chuckle along with him, continuing to mull over the issue in my mind, studying the facets of it.

  If I go to Prince Rathorin Ti’ana, he will not be a sympathetic audience to my complaint. Never mind that his people are in the wrong. Pride alone will keep him from admitting the fact. His House is of higher standing than my own Minor House but I don't see any other avenue I can take. I have to try talking to him. Maybe we can negotiate an agreement.

  While my people are ready to return to Ti'ana and conduct business as usual, I worry that next time it will not simply be an attack on their goods and a roughing up.

  This new development also triggers another fear.

  If I am fortunate enough to match with a female, would it be right to bring her into my world?

  It is a dangerous place and not just from the perils of the eternal dark with monsters that roam the underground. The politics between the Houses are fickle. One wrong step is all it would take for my House to be absorbed by a larger house for overstepping my bounds.

  If I cannot keep my people safe even from other Alva, would it not be wrong of me to bring a vulnerable female into this situation?

  What is my alternative? Condemn myself to a life without a family, without children?

  I accepted that fate until Celestial Mates came, igniting hope and possibility. Now that I have tasted that hope, I find myself hard pressed to let it go.

  Am I a good enough male, strong enough to do what is right?

  My stubborn and tentative hope is well and truly tarnished.

  Fury rises in my gut at this new injustice meted out from a Major House.

  If they take even this from me, what do I have left?

  Chapter Three

  Clara

  I pull on jeans and sweatshirt to go to my monthly Gold Star Wives meeting, something I still keep in my life.

  When I lost Joseph, I was devastated. Moving through the world in a daze, surprised that the world kept going at its normal pace even though I felt like it should somehow stop. I was alone and nobody else could see that something terrible had happened. It was like nobody cared as they continued to live their lives in the blissful normalcy of mortgage payments, soccer games, and mother-in-law visits.

  Sure, I got the usual condolences from friends and the distant family that somehow got in touch with me although we never spoke. I don't have siblings, my mother passed away when I was young, and I’m estranged from my father. I have no desire to reach out to him. After my mother passed away, he fell hard into drink. He became a completely different man. A lost and broken soul who could no longer be a father.

  As an adult, especially after experiencing the same loss, I can forgive his weakness. Forgiveness doesn't open the door to inviting him back into my life, though. There are too many painful memories.

  Even the few friends I had were our friends, not just mine. They tried to be there for me, and I give them full credit for that, but I know they thought I would move on quicker than I have. I don't know if I ever can move past it.

  When I came across a support group for the significant others of people who perished in the military, I was skeptical. What good would it do me to be around others just as devastated as I was? I almost didn't go. I didn't want to, but I couldn't go on living like I was.

  It was the best decision I ever made.

  I could air all my emotions. The ugly, the gut wrenching, the rage related, and even the happy ones. No one judged, they accepted me. They understood in ways no one else could. Felt the same things I did., were going through the same experience I was.

  Now, though it's still a support group and we invite new people to come join us, the regulars like myself and Stella have found a social group that helps us stay grounded.

  Parking at the curb in front of the unassuming ranch style house, I grab the bag of snacks I bought and climb out of the car then walk up the sidewalk to the lit doorway. There are already plenty of other cars, letting me know I'm last to arrive, or at least close to it.

  When I try the knob, it turns and I let myself in. I've been here so many times now it's a second home. Everyone's already seated in the living room and the first thing I notice is that there aren't any new face
s today, just the core group.

  I relax a little.

  It will not be an emotionally heavy night. It's always harder when there are new people, their pain is raw and fresh. Though I don't mind when they show up. It warms me to share what wisdom and perspective I've gained through my experience to help someone who needs it.

  "Clara! How are you?"

  "Hey Clara!"

  "Clara! It's good to see you!"

  I smile and say hello to everyone as I take a seat in the corner.

  It usually goes like this on these kinds of nights, people who want to talk to the group get up and talk while everyone else listens. After everybody who wants to talk has their say, we break apart for snacks and chat.

  Only two people want to talk tonight, so we break up to eat quickly.

  I'm at the snack table when Stella corners me.

  She's a petite, bubbly blonde, but her looks and demeanor are deceiving. She has a sharp brain behind her baby blues and she's damn near fearless, sometimes to her own detriment.

  And when she wants something, she can be a force of nature.

  "So, how did the date go?" she asks, point blank.

  I give her a look as I scoop up more hummus.

  She winces, giving me an apologetic look. "That bad, huh?"

  "Bad is an understatement. It's like the man has never talked to a woman before in his life."

  She rolls her eyes. "Come on! It couldn't have been that bad! He seemed normal enough when I met him at that party."

  "He asked me if I keep my handcuffs in the bedroom."

  Her eyes widen. "No!" she gasps.

  "Yes. And I would appreciate it if you never again set me up with some random guy you've met once before. Or, better yet, don't set me up at all ever again, please and thank you," I smile to soften my words, but I mean it.

  She sighs as she picks up carrots and celery, placing them on her plate as she considers what to say. "Don't say that. You shouldn't feel like there's nobody else out there because I set you up with a dud. I mean, at least think of my mental health! I'd feel terrible if I was responsible for you quitting men forever!"

  "You'll be fine," I say, dryly.

  She's not wrong, though I know there are a lot of men out there. I don't know if I'm cut out for dating anymore.

  "Maybe I should get a dog," I muse out loud.

  "Oh no. You're about to go off the deep end," she says, shaking her head as she takes a bite of carrot.

  "What are you talking about? Plenty of people have dogs."

  "Yes, they do. But you're talking about getting a dog as a replacement for a partner. Dogs are great, sure, but they aren't a substitute for a man. Someone you can go through life with and share your ups and downs. Someone who can sweep you off your feet. Make you breakfast in bed," she grins.

  I rub the back of my neck with my free hand.

  "I don't know if I'm cut out to be a partner for anyone anymore. Besides, I see you're talking the talk but are you walking the walk? Do you have a new boyfriend? When's the last time you went on a date? Where is all this coming from?" I counter, turning it around on her.

  She hesitates.

  "What?" I demand, my eyes widening in surprise. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

  She's been in the same boat as me for a while, but it would be great news if she’s moved on. Something for me to look up to at the very least.

  "Not exactly," she hedges.

  "Well then, what exactly? Don't leave me hanging here."

  She makes a furtive glance around to see if anyone’s listening before grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms.

  "You promise not to laugh at me?" she demands, closing the door behind her.

  "I can't promise that. But I can promise to listen what you have to say," I answer truthfully.

  She rolls her eyes but nods. "Fine. I'm trying out this new... agency."

  "Like a dating agency?" I ask, wondering at the secrecy.

  "Yes. But it's for matching you with people who are really... far away."

  I frown.

  "You mean like in a different country?"

  "Kind of."

  She opens her purse, pulls out a card then holds it out. I take it from her and hold it up to read it.

  "Celestial Mates. Bringing Love Across Time and Space," I read it out loud then look at her. "Weird tag line, but it's just a dating agency. Why are you so worried about telling me about this?"

  "Never mind that," she says. "Here's the real question. Do you ever wish you could leave everything behind? Start over? Rebuild somewhere new?" she asks, her hands curling around my forearms as she meets my eyes with an intensity I've never seen in her before.

  My heart thrums in my chest. "You're scaring me, Stella. What's going on?"

  What has she gotten involved with?

  She shakes her head but doesn't break eye contact. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. And I think maybe you should go sign up with this place too," she gives me a look that I can't interpret before adding, "but try to be open-minded."

  "Open-minded?"

  "I know how stubborn you can be," she says, exasperated. "Just promise you'll try not to shut down if you do check it out."

  I look at the card.

  "Just think about it," she reiterates, opening the door and stepping out into the hall. "I think it might be just what you need."

  She grabs my forearm and squeezes. When she smiles something dances in her eyes. She pulls me into an embrace, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. When she lets go, her smile is broad and certain. "Open minded, think about it."

  Left alone in the empty room, weird chills make me shiver. Shaking my head, I shove the card into my pocket and decide to forget about it.

  Later, driving home, our strange conversation replays through my head.

  She was acting cagey and off, not at all like she usually is. What is going on with her? There was something... hopeful about it. It makes me curious about this agency. What do they have to offer? The idea of going somewhere far away that's completely new and starting over again intrigues me.

  I am stuck. Stuck in my routine, stuck in this person who everyone thinks I am. Stuck in this role I have to play.

  Am I even living?

  Sometimes, more often than not, it’s like I'm going through the motions. I get up in the morning, I go to work, I come home, work out, eat, and go to bed. And then repeat the whole process the next day. On my days off, I'm just waiting for work to start again.

  Walking into my apartment and closing the door, I fish the card out and stare at it. Maybe Stella is right. Barring that Richard disaster, she knows me pretty well.

  I sit down on the couch and set the card down in front of me on the coffee table.

  What could it hurt?

  At the least, I can make sure Stella isn't joining a cult or something. That's as good a reason to check it out as any. Looking out for a friend. Sure, I'll do it, for her.

  I pick the card back up and take out my cell. There's an email address at the bottom so I write a quick email inquiring about details and shoot it off before I have time to rethink my actions.

  Shaking my head, I stand up and head into my bedroom. I change into my workout clothes and go downstairs to hit the building's gym. Sweating it out helps me clear my head. I'm about done with my workout, setting down the dumbbells, when my phone buzzes with an incoming email.

  It's spam. I'm sure it must be. It's late, how could it be the Celestial Mates company? I'm not as careful with my email as I know I should be. Finish the workout, look at it later. I glance at the phone on the bench next to me.

  Who am I kidding? I have to look.

  Sliding my finger across the lock pattern, I realize I'm holding my breath. Tapping the icon for my email the screen flashes. The longest load time of my life as I wait for the app to open.

  Your Celestial Mates Inquiry.

  There it is. The first email in my inbox. I let out my
breath and read it.

  The gist of it is, they want to set up an appointment time to go through everything with me in person. That they won't tell me anything over email is a little strange, but it’s a marketing gimmick. Harder to say no when you're physically in front of someone.

  It makes me want to look into this thing more. If it’s a scam, they chose the wrong person. I send back an email with an appointment time for tomorrow I can make before my shift and I get a response within five minutes.

  Damn, these people are on it. All right. I guess I'm doing this.

  I lie awake most of the night, unable to stop the constant flow of thoughts and worries. Come morning I'm not well rested but somehow I’m wide awake as I drive to the address. My navigator guides me up in front of an office building downtown. It takes a minute to find a place to park then I get out of the car and close the door. The building doesn't look shady, it's just offices. Nondescript, plain, with a small sign declaring the name.

  Shrugging, I walk inside. An empty foyer leads back to a blank wall. There are six heavy wooden doors, three on each side. The door to my left has the Celestial Mates Dating Agency sign. I open the door and step inside.

  The receptionist smiles as I walk in, peering at me through her flower printed glasses.

  "You must be Clara Rivera," she says.

  "Yes," I say, smiling a tight smile. They either run a strict schedule or don't have a lot of clients since she knows my name the moment I walk in the door.

  "Welcome!" she says with a wide smile. "A representative will be with you in a few moments. Please, have a seat!"

  "Thank you," I murmur, looking around the cozy seating area.

  My butt barely hits the seat when someone calls my name.

  "Clara?" a musical voice asks.

  I look up, wanting to put a face to that voice. It doesn't disappoint.

  She, at least I guess the person is a she judging from the clothes, is tall. Very tall with long, snow white hair that goes down to her waist. She's dressed in a flowy, gauzy dress dyed in a variety of pastel colors. Her skin is slightly less white than her hair, her eyes a beautiful shade of lavender that dominates her thin face.