Alien Prince's Pregnant Fake Fiancée (Celestial Mates) Read online

  Her shoulders drop as she sighs. “I’m going to regret this.”

  My heart soars. “You will not. You have my word—”

  She holds up a finger. “Not so fast. I still want something from you.”

  I nod eagerly.

  “I’ll go to the ball with you if you can answer one simple question.”

  “Yes, anything!” And I really did mean anything. She could ask for my villa on the Aluthian moon and I’d gladly hand it to her!

  She crosses her arms over her chest and ponders me smugly. “What’s my name?”

  Shit. “Uh…”

  She raises a brow. “Uh?”

  “One moment, baby,” I stall.

  She bites her lip in an attempt to stop herself from smiling.

  She’s playing me, the minx! She knows I have no idea. She asked me this question specifically because she had any intention of going to the ball.

  Damn these women! I can’t let her win—I can’t let mother win! I close my eyes, forehead burning as I try to remember something—anything! Come on horn! What good is having one so big if it can’t even remember something as simple as a woman’s name?

  “It looks like you’re having some difficulty,” she notes.

  I crack an eye open and glare at her. “I’m not. Just give me a second.”

  She giggles. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me my name.”

  Oh thank God! My horn was about to shoot off my head and explode like a firework.

  She cocks her head to the side and runs a long, black nail down my chest hard, muscular chest. “Tell me something about me.”

  “You’re hot as hell and have such a sweet, tight little—”

  She slaps my chest and pulls back. “Not something like that! Something real. Like…what do I do for a living?”

  I think so hard that it feels like my horn is drilling through my skull. “Uh…”

  Her mouth drops open. “You really don’t know anything about me, do you?”

  Shit, I’m losing her. “You’re a waitress studying to be a royal seamstress!” I blurt out.

  Tiny yet strong hands push harder than I would have thought possible against my wall of chest. “I’m a sculptor with my own gallery show. It’s where we met, you dumbass!”

  Oh, that’s right! “I remember now! I asked you if you wanted a better model of a horn for your next nude.”

  Her lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re an impressive specimen, but you’ll have to forgive me for not taking me up on the offer. I think I’ve had enough of you and your infamous horn to last a lifetime.”

  No! “Come on, baby!”

  “You still don’t remember my name, do you?”

  This again? “Uh…” I curl my hands into fists and squeeze my eyes.

  A soft, delicate hand pats my chest. “Don’t think too hard. You might break your horn, and then what would you be good for?”

  Ouch. I open my eyes to a smile so saccharinely sweet that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  “Have fun at the ball tonight,” she says, one foot already out the door. “I hope you find a mate your mother will be proud of.”

  Chapter 2

  Volex

  I scowl at my brother as he turns purple. “I hope you rupture something.”

  “I hope I don’t,” Ivar replies hoarsely, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

  I grit my jaw. “This isn’t funny.”

  “I know it isn’t,” he rasps. “That’s why I’m not laugh—laugh—”

  His fist falls like a hammer on the table. Our dishes clatter. And that previously purple hue coloring his cheeks turns ultraviolet as, for the sixth time this afternoon, he descends into demonic laughter.

  My scowl deepens. “You’re a terrible brother.”

  “I’m sorry.” He tries to compose himself.

  I glare at him. You’re not sorry.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Volex. I’m not laughing,” he replies as he snickers.

  If my scowl deepens any more my eyes will shut. Instead, I rub my temples and sigh until his infernal cackling dies down. “Are you done yet?”

  “For now, yes.” Ivar reaches over the table to pat my shoulder. “Don’t look like that. It could be worse.”

  “How?”

  “She could be pregnant.”

  “I guess you have a point. Though if she were pregnant, maybe mother wouldn’t force me to attend a…bridal ball. I swear, this is even worse than that coming out party she threw for me when my horn finished growing!”

  “When she thought your horn had finished growing,” Ivar corrects.

  That’s right. I’d never forget how furious mother had been when my horn had “the audacity” to keep getting larger after the party.

  Ivar looks up into the clouds, scowling. “I believe her exact words were—”

  I roll my eyes. “Here we go again.”

  Ivar clears his throat and raises his suddenly-snooty voice an octave: “That thing atop your head is just vulgar, Volex. Please, show some decency for once and make it stop.”

  I smirk despite myself. “Not a bad impression, but mother’s voice didn’t crack. And for the record, if it had been within my power to make it stop I would’ve, but unfortunately it has a mind of its own.”

  Ivar eyes my horn, sobering. “I can believe it.” Then, he sits up straight and takes on a regal stature befitting of a king. “We should have lunch more, Volex. I’ve been working too hard lately, and these little diversions of ours are just what I need. Why, this afternoon, I think I’ll actually return to the business of running the kingdom rejuvenated!”

  What, was he leaving already? He couldn’t just idly listen to my sorrows, have a few laughs at my expense, and take off! I needed real help here! “You can’t leave! The main course hasn’t even arrived yet!”

  As if on cue, the waiter sets down a dish of aurora trout in front of Ivar. Then, she takes away my sprig salad and replaces it with roasted heartwood.

  Ivar smiles. “Ah, there you go. You can have mine, too. Consider it an early engagement present.” He winks.

  “It sounds like you think this is fun,” I accuse.

  “That’s because it is fun.”

  My upper lip curls. “Fun? You think me almost getting kicked out of my own kingdom is fun?”

  “Come on. You’re not going to get kicked out. You’re going to go to the bridal ball and marry whomever mother picks out for you. Then, you’re going to sire some children, and then we’ll really have some fun things to talk about.”

  I just barely suppress a shudder. “You’re wrong. I’m not going to marry just anyone mother picks out for me! She can’t get away with this!”

  “Oh, she already has, brother.” He raises his glass.

  I glare at the sparkling goblet, then back at him. “I’m not toasting to that!”

  He shrugs. “The sooner your resign yourself to your fate, the better it will be for you.”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side, Ivar.”

  “I am on your side.”

  “Then why haven’t you at least offered me some money and a ship?”

  “So you can make a run for it? You know mother will hunt you down. She won’t stop until she finds you. And there isn’t a force in the universe strong enough to save you when she does.” He reaches over the table and pats my shoulder. “I care about you too much to let you stand her up at a party she’s throwing in your honor.”

  “You’re just scared she’d get mad at you for helping me.”

  He nods. “That too.”

  Wow. He doesn’t even try to deny it.

  Ivar sighs and throws back the rest of his drink. He gives an over-the-shoulder finger wave to the waiter and instantly gets a refill of his sparkling garnet. Then, he turns his imperial gaze to me.

  “Volex, I love you—you know that I do—but you’re a man-whore who never thinks beyond where he can stick his horn. You’ve never taken any in
terest in matters of the people. You’ve never attempted to get involved with the kingdom’s affairs or to help anyone. All you think about is yourself. Can you blame Mother? It’s you who has pushed her to this.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Of course, that’s a lie. “I’m only eighty. Eighty-year-olds aren’t supposed to have responsibilities.” Again, a lie. Most eighty-year-olds are apprenticing in career paths designed to last for centuries and have only just begun the very long petition process to have their genetic code unlocked. By unlocking mine without making me work for it, Mother is essentially stating that I have nothing of value to give my people other than an heir…and she’s right.

  “Is your genetic code unlocked yet?” I ask, doing my damnedest not to sound as petulant as I feel.

  Ivar chokes on a bite of aurora trout. “Of course not!” He then has the sense of mind to look embarrassed. “She’s promised to unlock it after another century of service.”

  I slouch. “I really am good for nothing.”

  A waitress passes by on her way to a neighboring table. When she gets there, she bends over straight-legged as she speaks with the customer, allowing her already short skirt to ride even higher. Then, before standing, she gives me a come-fuck-me look over her shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t say you’re good for nothing,” Ivar muses as he looks appreciatively at the waitress walking away.

  “I don’t think that counts, brother,” I reply dryly.

  He isn’t listening. “How do you even get them to bed you?” he asks, running a hand up the length of one of his thick horns. “I mean, I’ve had girls turn me down because of these. How the hell is it that you get anybody to say yes with horns like those? They’re not even separated. They’re like a uni-horn.”

  I lift my hand and trace the bony ridge that joins the two thick horns that protrude from my forehead and slope over my head like a protective cap. “Some girls like a challenge.”

  Ivar looks at me like I’m a science experiment gone awry. “How big are you, anyway? Can you even get it in…” He shakes his head. “Actually, forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”

  That’s probably for the best. It’s true that I always have to take it slow—and that some women decide my girth is simply too much—but many women can take up to half my length.

  So what are you going to do about the ball tonight?” Ivar takes another drink of his sparkling garnet, and the question sparks a heavy dread that sits on me harder than anything I’ve ever known. What if I get stuck in a sexless marriage?

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I confess.

  “That’s understandable. A life partner is one of the most important personal and career decisions a being can make,” he replies.

  “No, it’s not just that!” I lean forward and keep my voice low, taking care to ensure no one overhears my confession. “Not all women can take my entire…horn.”

  “That’s shocking,” Ivar replies, deadpan.

  “I’m not joking, either! Mother is expecting me to pick someone tonight. What if I pick wrong? What if she can’t take my… you know,” I wave my hand at the table top—or rather what lies beneath—to make the question clear.

  “Well, first of all, I’m glad you have your priorities in order.”

  I nod, eager for his next tidbit of advice.

  Ivar sighs. “That was a joke, Volex. Your wife is someone you will share your entire life with. She’ll have access to your wealth, listen to your fears, and support you while you struggle to reach your goals—not to mention she’ll be granted immense power as a princess of Vertar. Either think beyond the bedroom for once, or let mother pick someone out for you.”

  Let mother pick someone out? “That is horrible advice!” I tell him off in the harshest whisper I can muster.

  “It’s actually pretty good advice given the situation. You’re simply not mature enough to accept it.”

  “Look, I’m have no intention of ever cheating on my wife!” I declare, pointing my finger at him accusatorily.

  “Well, that at least is nice to hear.”

  “Ivar, please! Listen. If she can’t accept all of me, I’ll be doomed to rub one out all alone in a dark corner three times a day. What kind of existence is that for a man?”

  Ivar shudders. “Alright. Thrice a day seems a bit excessive, but I see your point. As king of Vertar, I cannot allow you to do that in dark corners around the kingdom. Maybe you should pick a woman you’ve already been with?”

  I wave off his suggestion. “Mother is lining up every eligible young lady she can sink her claws into. I don’t make a habit of banging debutantes.”

  “There’s always Rekaia,” Ivar offers. “I know you’ve bedded her, though I have no o idea why. I’d be too afraid she’d cut off my cock afterward to keep as a souvenir.”

  Rekaia…

  I sit back in my chair as my fingers drum the table. It’s true. She is an option—one I’m sure mother is pushing for—but life with her would be its own unique misery. She’s conniving and more than a little scary.

  The pretty little waitress walks by, giving me another eye-fuck, but I don’t even glance her way. Instead, I sit on the edge of my seat and stare at Ivar. “Didn’t Mother have lunch with Rekaia a moon ago?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not Mother’s keeper.”

  “She did,” I hiss, my finger pounding the top of the table. “That fucking b—” I glance around the restaurant and then lower my voice again. “She’s behind this. She’s manipulating Mother.”

  “Alright, now I know you’ve lost it. Nobody manipulates Mother. You know that as well as I do.”

  “I don’t care. Rekaia is behind this. I know it. I feel it. She’s maneuvering, that scheming, fucking—” I have to stop myself again.

  “If she’s behind it, she’s only getting Mother to do what Mother already wants to do. Still, what you’re saying is disturbing. If Rekaia maneuvers you into having to marry her, that will put her in direct line of the crown.”

  “Not you and not even Mother would be safe from her. Why would Mother allow that?”

  Ivar sits back in his chair and shakes his head, his eyes lowered in thought. “We can’t be right about this. But”—he lifts his gaze and looks at me—“I have a feeling that we are. My skin is prickling.”

  “Mine, too. So, what do we do?”

  Ivar frowns. “You told mother you were going to bring the love of your life. Now, all we have to do is find her.”

  I frown as my horn starts pounding almost as hard as it did this morning. “Fuck, I still can’t remember her name! But I know what gallery her work is showing in, and I think I remember what sculptures hers were. They were nudes.”

  “Of course they were,” Ivar mutters, rolling his eyes. “Look, I’m not talking about the woman from last night. You need someone who will convince mother.”

  “So we hit up some actresses?” Alright, now this is a plan! I love using props in the bedroom. “We should get one who can do a Soulatian accent. I fucking love a Soulatian accent.”

  “No, we’re not hiring an actress.”

  “And why the hell not?”

  “First, mother goes to plays. She already knows the most talented actresses in the city. And second, you’re going to get drunk tonight—”

  “We don’t know that for a fact,” I interrupt.

  Ivar raises his eyebrows.

  “Alright, alright. But can you really blame me for having one or two?”

  “How I feel about it doesn’t matter, Volex. The question is whether whatever springs from your mouth is going to cause your ‘lover’ to throw her drink in your face and storm out or drag you by your horn to the nearest coat closet. Either way, it’s a problem. We need to put on a convincing performance, not a circus.”

  I sigh. “Fine. What do you suggest we do, then?”

  “Celestial Mates.”

  One of my two hearts skips a beat and, after the briefest pause, I drain my entire glass
of sparkling garnet. “That’s madness,” I whisper as I lean forward. “I didn’t want anyone to hear this. They could be listening. “Those strange flying…beings…could match me with anyone, and there’s no going back! You want me to give up all control over who I spend the rest of my life with?”

  “You’ve already lost control. At least this way, you can choose who you’re going to give that lost control to—destiny or mother.”

  I glance down at my drink, wishing there was more.

  “Look Volex, I know this is scary, but this could also be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Celestial Mates has an extremely high success rate. You might actually find the being that completes you.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “If giving up control to destiny is so great, why don’t you do it?”

  “Because I’m not ready. I don’t want to be paired with my soulmate yet. I want to get a few more mistakes under my belt first.”

  I wish I had some soap to scrub away the twinkle in his eye. He’s eager to play with the powers of the universe as long as it’s not him being put on the auction block.

  “As I see it,” he continues, “what choice do you really have? Tonight, you will be paired with a life mate. That woman can be the mate of your soul as well, or she can be the person who makes you dream of an early death. Celestial Mates is your best option to get out of this with a future worth looking forward to.”

  “Celestial Mates…” I scowl, leaning back in my chair. “Watch them pair me up with a slug from the Cartesiah solar system.”

  I see Ivar shiver in revulsion at the thought. I’d do the same if I could, but I’m too frozen in terror at the thought of my wedding night with a slug girl.

  “You’d kill me first, right?” I ask, only joking a little bit.

  “I’d be there for you, brother,” Ivar says, lifting his glass to me.

  “Celestial Mates it is then,” I say and take his glass of sparkling garnet away from him and drain it dry myself.

  Chapter 3