His to Claim: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance - Taylor Vaughn Page 0,83

race that was only slightly more intelligent than house pets over his own people?

“Do not bother, N’Ure.”

I furrow my ridges in confusion at the sudden command. “My Kel?”

He pushes the note to make it disappear. “I said do not bother. Call off your men. The hu’man is no longer of consequence to me.”

“But you said—”

He slams his palm on the desk. “I know what was said. And now, I am telling you to call off the hunt. I now realize the error of my hasty announcement. A new alliance with the New Terrhans will never work. The stupid hu’man was offered more than she deserved but was not smart enough to understand that. I will not be made a fool of again.”

I open my mouth but can come up with no words for this unexpected decision.

It does not seem to matter because he continues to talk. “I would also like to have a marriage meeting with A’Ry—forgive me. I should call her by her formal name for such an important topic. I believe N’Maryah will be a more suitable choice to become my mate. She understands our customs and will never embarrass me. If she will still have me, I hope she will do me the honor of becoming my Qel.”

I stand there in complete shock for several moments, unable to believe my original plan is really coming true.

Then I assure him, “Of course, my Kel. My A’ry is most forgiving and practical. Furthermore, she will understand the importance of her position and will always be a credit to the throne.”

He gives me a cold nod. “Make it happen as soon as possible. Also, set up a comm meeting with Emperor Zalias.”

Kel D’Rek looks into the distance, his black diamond eyes glittering with bitterness. “I have decided to accept his original treaty offer.”

24

Captain Dedon of Ship Emperor Cargo

The face pretty, but too body skinny Xalthurian is still laughing when an emergency holo hail suddenly appears as a cloaked screen in front of her face.

Her eyes cool as she checks the message. Then she laughs no more.

“Is something amiss?” I ask, growing more impatient by the moment. We have been waiting for her father to rendezvous with us as promised for nearly a quarter week now, and he has yet to show.

“No…nothing is amiss,” she answers, but after too long a pause. Also, her ridges lay flat against her head, which I know from the broken prisoners in our holding cells, means she has much anger. “It would seem there has been a change of plan. I must go.”

“Another change of plan?” I stroke a hand down one side of my hanging mustache, not liking this news. Not liking it at all.

Something is off. As my father, the great warrior Crill of Ship Alloo would say, “This meat is pink, but it smells bad.”

I think for a second of holding her here. Perhaps even keeping her here and demanding a ransom from her father for her safe return. Kaidorians value wealth over everything after all, and I can well-imagine the kind of reward this beauty would fetch.

Or I should say, Kaidorians used to value wealth over everything. The situation has become dire indeed. Our last Kai babeling was born over five solars ago. If we cannot secure these human females…if we must undergo another messy war, there’s a good chance our race will die out.

And what good is wealth, without a family to spend it on?

With a pang, I think of my own four fathers and mother. Of course, they do not fault me for not having provided them with a grandbabeling yet to spoil. However, their eyes do not glitter as they used to, when I return to our home ship with the spoils of my travels.

Yea…this deal must go through.

So instead of halting the Xalthurian female’s progress, I escort her back to the shuttle bay. Then I press the comm button on my captain’s uniform to tell my flight control officer to open the shuttle doors, so that our guest might leave.

“My father will be in touch soon,” she says, before hurrying over to the small flyer she flew here in with the unconscious female. Watching her scurry into her ship, I am reminded of the newets she mentioned earlier, rodents that are nearly impossible to exterminate from spaceships, because they breed in litters with a gestation period of a mere two weeks. They can often be seen and heard on my own cargo ship, scurrying about in much