Pheromone, page 34
part #1 of For the Love of Aliens Series
“You met me five seconds ago.” I need to stop doing that, truncating everything that happens to me down to a few seconds. That’s my version of compartmentalizing my feelings. I grab onto his tunic and he releases me, stepping back and seeming surprised when I follow. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Do what?” he asks, and I fucking swear that we’ve known each other in another life.
“Keep me here. You can do better than that. I am not your prisoner.” I squeeze my lips together, noticing the way his eyes track my mouth. He doesn’t look at me like he’s never seen a human. He looks at me like I’m his perfect version of attractive, like the most beautiful creature ever imagined.
I hate all the things that I’m thinking.
The only thing that I want is to see Abraxas again. I don’t even care what I have to do. Anything.
“No, you are not a prisoner,” he agrees, reaching up to put his hands on my wrists. “You are the Imperial Princess. I will give whatever I have to get you what you want.”
“Except for the only thing that matters?” I clarify, offering a shocked laugh. “I want to see Abraxas.”
There’s that rage again, his horns—or antennae, whatever—they swivel backwards, and he bares his teeth.
“Except for that.” He releases me and I hold up my hands to either side.
“Appreciate you proving my point.” I walk around him and into the room where the den is hanging, suspended from the ceiling by chains. All of a few hours ago, that was my home. I only lived there for a few weeks, but it doesn’t matter. I liked it. I felt safe there. Happy.
There’s a square-shaped object near the base of the den that looks like a platform. When I step on it, it lifts me right up to the doorway. I look down to see that I’m nearly thirty feet in the air. Between the suspension and the chunk of dirt and grass hanging from the bottom, I’m much higher up than I was when the ship was planted firmly in the ground.
Broken vines litter the floor as I stand up and step aside, looking over at Zero’s blank screen. I turn back and move into the ship. When the prince joins me, I ignore him.
The bathroom is still there, but there’s no water in the tub now. My mate’s musky smell clings stubbornly to the space, and I find myself disturbed that I’m actually feeling nostalgic for the toilet. I visit the nest last, walking in and then slumping down in the center of the room.
I just sit there in a ridiculous ruby-red robe. It drags on the ground when I walk. But you know what? It doesn’t matter, because when I walk here, it trails across a shiny white floor in a sterile hellhole. I’m the sort of person that really likes old houses—especially castles—and appreciates trees more than people. There are no trees here. And if there are, it still won’t be the same. I can’t crack a window to feel the breeze. There is no breeze.
“It will not be so bad,” the prince encourages, coming in to kneel beside me. He puts an elbow on his knee, like he’s a person. Only, his eyes are massive and dark, and his skin is snow-white and ebon-black. His hair is textured and white, flowing over his shoulders and down his back like the hood of a fur cloak. He flattens his antennae back against the sides of his head. “You will soon forget the nightmare you endured.”
I ignore him, standing up and taking the nicest, softest fur with me. Many of the furs in the new bed were white or light colored and very, very soft. They weren’t there when I first came to stay, and there’s no way that Abraxas had the time to kill all those animals, skin them, and treat their hides while I was there. Which means that he was preparing and keeping them in advance for his future mate. They were given to me.
Now I’m here, and everything is ruined.
I search around and find Jane’s shirt near the pile where I left it. With those two things clutched in my arms, I head back to the weird platform thing outside. Rurik trails behind me, brimming with frustration. I say nothing because the sooner I get away from him, the better.
“Please don’t scrap this ship,” I plead, hating how quiet and soft my voice comes out. He stares back at me, but all of that false humanity in him is gone. He’s as distant and unreachable as the stars outside the all-too numerous windows.
“If you behave,” is how he responds.
I grit my teeth.
I have never wanted to punch someone as much as I want to punch this guy. And have you met Tabbi Kat or Zero? For me to want to punch Rurik more than I want to punch them, he must be the lowest, most vile creature in the whole of the … what’s it called? The Noctuida? I’m still not sure what that means exactly, but whatever it is, this prince is the absolute worst.
“I fucking hate you,” I growl at him, and he slow-blinks back at me. Says nothing. Pompously stands there and picks at the fingers of his gloves. As soon as I get into the hallway, I wait for him to walk ahead and stay behind to chat with the only other human being on this stupid spaceship.
“Are you okay?” Avril asks me, noticing the items in my arms. “Seriously, what’s going on, Eve?”
“I fell in love,” I whisper as we walk, and she gapes at me. Actually, she stops walking and it takes several seconds before she’s able to catch up. Zero sulks behind us, looking for all the world like something strange and demonic as she frowns and stares at the floor. Her red android eyes flash.
Christ, that’s scary.
I turn sharply away from her and decide I won’t pick on her much after all. It was more fun when she was inside a screen and couldn’t move.
“You … what?” Avril asks, waiting for an explanation. But then she holds up both hands and shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not my business, and I shouldn’t have asked.” She drops her arms and peers at me with sapphire eyes. She’s … seriously fucking pretty. If only I weren’t into men. Or alien dragon peen. For shame. “You understand that you’re supposed to marry this guy?”
I sort of figured that bit out after the frequent use of ‘princess’. The kidnapping and the insta-love were some pretty good clues as well. Insta-love? What the fuck? How? I can’t for the life of me understand it. I am not that sort of person. I can barely commit to second dates.
Which is how you ended up perma-mated to an alien dragon in two weeks time? Hmm.
We reach a doorway that opens automatically, the panel sliding into the wall to reveal a lavishly appointed foyer with five other rooms coming off of it. The one at the end has its doors wide open. I see a beautiful bed and an entire wall of glass. No seams. Just a big, unbroken expanse of space.
My vision blurs, and I blink frantically to clear my head. I don’t know what this is—astrophobia maybe, fear of stars and space—but it’s disorienting and disturbing. I hate it.
Rurik walks right to the double doors of the bedroom, taps a screen beside them, and they swish shut. He turns around to face us with an expectant air about his imperial personhood. Ugh.
I enter the foyer tentatively, Avril on my left, Zero trailing after. The door slides shut behind her, leaving the four of us alone. One big positive: this area doesn’t have any of the gross red and blue organic matter that infests the walls and ceilings on the rest of the ship.
“Our rooms are in the uppermost level of this vessel—that is, The Korol,” Rurik explains, and I immediately imagine some sort of tower sticking up off the top. What if it gets scraped against something? We’d all be goners. I swallow back the fear, clutching the fur and the shirt. I’m going through a similar period of denial the way I did when I realized for certain that my time catering parties and playing golf with my dad were gone.
Permanently.
Abraxas, the den, all of that, it’s over.
“You may select a room for yourself for now. After the wedding, we will sleep in the same room.” The prince stands there with his hands clasped together in front of him, looking for all the world like somebody who has never been told no in his entire life.
I decide to save the argument for later.
I very quickly move to the door closest to me and peer in. Looks normal enough. It’s a huge room with a separate living area, bright lights, and lots of orange, yellow, and pink in the decor. I’ll take it. I basically sprint in there, waiting for Avril and Zero to follow. The door slides shut with an inorganic sigh, and I lean against it.
“I can’t be anywhere near that moth,” I whisper, pushing up to a standing position and beginning a search of the room. The other two girls trail behind me, and I realize how much I’ve loved being in the woods alone all this time. I needed some ‘me’ space for sure. I turn around suddenly and they both come to a stop. “Do you smell it when you’re around him?” I ask, and they both just stare at me. “You know, that weird cardamom and honey stuff. It’s driving me nuts.”
“While my particular model has been equipped with scent receptors, and while I’m sure that my sense of smell is infinitely better than yours, I am not enamored with His Majesty’s pheromones the way you are.” Zero smiles sweetly at me, and then winks. “The Aspis male would be displeased with your behavior, would he not?” Woooow. She is way more fucking annoying like this.
I turn to Avril. She seems weirdly empathetic, not sympathetic. Like, she doesn’t feel sorry for me, she simply understands how I feel. I want to slap her, too.
“Eve, neither of us like his smell. Only you do. You are his mate.”
I shake my head and back up, bumping into a low bookshelf. It sits in front of another window wall that I’m doing my best to pretend isn’t there. I’m leaning against it. I stumble forward in my haste to get away from it.
“I’m not his anything. He’s doing”—I wave my hand around randomly—“something to my brain and making me want him sexually. It’s fucked-up.”
“It’s pheromones,” Avril says, and I glare at her. “What?” She moves over to a table and picks up a bottle of wine, shaking it enticingly in my direction. I don’t trust it. I’d accepted that I’d never have wine again. Oh my God, it’s a red. I bite my lip. “It’s real wine. He bought it at the black market for you—it’s from Earth.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, but I can’t resist coming over to the table to stare at it. “How would he know to buy wine?”
“He asked me,” Avril explains, popping the cork and pouring us both a glass. She doesn’t offer Zero one, and my estimation of her improves considerably from already high levels. This bitch removed metal scrap from my leg and then stitched up a bleeding artery. How cool is that? “Because he’s your mate. Vestalis have unique chemical and biological properties. Each of them has an infinitesimal chance of finding his mate—as in, another person who agrees with those properties—and when he does, their chemistry is perfectly compatible. He smells amazing to you because you’re his mate. And vice versa.” She raises her glass. “His dick will change shape to fit perfectly inside of you. How’s that for commitment?”
I sit down hard in the chair opposite her.
Zero takes another seat at the large, oval table and leans in, putting her elbows on the surface.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had sex. Thankfully this body is fully functional.” She sighs happily and puts a hand up to the side of her face. Those cherubic cheeks, that tiny pink rosebud mouth, the oversized eyes and long lashes … what a farce. Zero—or Raina, I guess? I prefer Zero—is a deviant. “As soon as we dock at the World Station, I’m going to work my way through as many males as I can. Hopefully there’ll be plenty of Cartian males around. My people are renowned throughout the Noctuida as—”
I cut her off, leaning in toward Avril conspiratorially.
“What have you been doing for the last few weeks?” I ask, and she gives me a look.
“Girl, you know that in Earth terms, we’ve been out here for a month, right?” Her face softens with true sympathy at the look on my face. “Jungryuk—the planet you were on—its days are longer than ours, and its nights are much longer than ours.”
Somehow, because of Abraxas, I never even noticed.
My heart aches so fiercely that I have no choice but to bypass my wineglass and go straight for the bottle. I chug it down and ohmyfuckingholyfuckthat’samazing. It’s practically orgasmic. And I say practically because, well, once you’ve orgasmed on an alien dragon’s dicks, nothing else compares.
“Wow. That is … some cheap supermarket crap, but it tastes like heaven on the tongue. Can’t lie.” I look at the bottle’s label. It’s a generic cabernet sauvignon.
“I don’t mean to overwhelm you,” Avril begins, reaching up to unhook the clasp of her cloak with a relieved sigh. The heavy garment is so stiff that it doesn’t even fall to the floor. It just stands there behind her with its ugly collar and strange, shimmery fabric. She reaches back absently and shoves it away, like she’s been here, done this before. “But as your lady-in-waiting, it’s my duty to educate you. I’d ease into it, but we don’t have a ton of time here.”
I go to take another drink of the wine when something occurs to me.
“Seeded.” Abraxas’ toothsome rumble sounds in my head and I set the bottle down. Again, I’m still pretty sure that I’m right, that I’m not pregnant, but … Apparently, I wouldn’t be totally upset to have an alien dragon baby. It’d be too early to tell now, and certainly it’d be fine to have some wine, but I’ll need to be careful. I have a feeling that if the prince finds out about this, he might try to make a choice for me.
I set the bottle aside.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask, looking around the room. Other than the glass wall of stars that’s at my back, the room is comfortable and well-appointed. The bed is truly suited for a princess, this pristine affair of pale pink and white linens, mountains of pillows, a frilly canopy. I want my musky nest back.
I keep Abraxas’ fur and Jane’s Ninja Turtle shirt tucked close.
“The Vestalis—that is, these moth people—they have one-hundred-and-three imperial princes.” I just stare at her. I feel suddenly sorry for Rurik’s mother. Is she a moth, too? I’m starting to get the idea that maybe these moth guys aren’t particular in whom or what they breed with. Anybody that matches their stupid pheromones. “In order to inherit the throne, a prince must find his mate.”
I sit and stare.
I’m being baby-stepped into … something here.
“The only prince who has found his mate … is your prince.”
“He’s not my prince,” I say, but it feels like he is. It feels like everything in my life has been orchestrated to get me to this single place in time and space.
And I can’t stand it.
Where is my sense of choice? My free will? It is not possible to love someone at first sight. Lust at first sight, sure. But love? Love is built on trust and experience and action. This is a sham, and I feel sick to my stomach about it. Maybe the prince isn’t doing it on purpose, but he is doing it. He’s making me want him to the point that I don’t care about anything else. That is fucking terrifying, and it’s not okay.
I want to make my own decisions.
“Within the next couple of days, there’s going to be a royal wedding …” Avril cringes, like she knows exactly what my reaction is going to be.
I stand up suddenly, knocking over my chair and ignoring Zero’s frustrating smirk.
“Is there a way to communicate with Earth?” I ask, pausing near the seating area. Again, the room looks normal enough with the exception of those clever wing notches in the backs of the chairs and couches. Either the Vestalis live and relax similarly to humans … or this entire thing is orchestrated. It feels orchestrated, just like those all-too human expressions on the prince’s face.
“Nope.” I hear the wine bottle glugging as Avril gives into temptation. “First thing I asked. It’s not that they don’t have the technology to communicate with Earth, it’s that they won’t. I guess they treat Earth as like, a protected habitat full of an endangered species.”
I whirl around to stare at her, trying not to like the soft, supple fabric of the robe and the faint hint of cinnamon sweetness clinging to it.
“Endangered species? Aren’t there like eight billion of us?” I’m genuinely confused. I took my brother to a convention in Los Angeles last year, and the convention center was so packed that I couldn’t even walk. Tell me how humans are an endangered species. I’ll wait.
“Yeah, well, since we’re only from one planet, we’re considered endangered. Also, since we’re so primitive, we’re like … leopards or something. Asking to send communications to Earth is like asking to send a text message to an animal in a reserve.”
Lovely.
I move over to the bed, spreading my fur and Jane’s shirt both out on the surface of it. Those two items are the only things in this room that look real. Everything else feels … manufactured.
Exhaustion hits me like an asteroid, and I crawl onto the mattress, curling into a ball and staring wide-eyed at the swirl of cosmic stardust outside my window. This is not a rags-to-riches princess dream with fluffy beds and pretty dresses and pompous princes, it’s a nightmare.
I miss Abraxas so much that I honestly might throw up.
It’s not because I haven’t seen him—it’s only been a few hours … I think—but the fact that I’m pretty damn sure I’ll never see him again. I take a pillow, wrap the fur around it, and hug it close. My eyes squeeze shut, and I sort of want to kick Avril when she comes over and covers me with a blanket.
“It’s all going to be okay. You’ll see,” she tells me, sitting beside me on the bed. “The Vestalis are like humans in a way: some are bad, some are good, some are great. Rurik, he’s one of the great ones.” She gives my hand a little pat, and then stands back up.
I should tell her that I don’t need to be tucked in and petted like a little princess, but that lonely feeling that hit me in the woods? It’s infinitely worse here.
“I’ll be sleeping just over there.” Presumably she points, but I don’t open my eyes. “The android chick, she’ll be guarding us.”
