The Alien General's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron) Read online

  “Unlikely.”

  Megan sighed and shook her head, relenting. “Are you coming back inside?”

  “Yeah, but after I use the washroom.” Jillian grimaced, reaching up under her glasses to rub her eyes. “I’m gonna splash some cold water on my face first.”

  With a quick smile, Megan headed back inside with a sleeping Kelan in her arms.

  Jillian breathed deeply and followed the rest of the walkway into a corridor. She made a left and as she walked, she realized she didn’t know exactly where the washrooms were located. She knew they were close by, though. While the palace was large, Megan had given her numerous tours so she wouldn’t get horribly lost. But she didn’t relish returning there just yet.

  At the end of the corridor, she hesitated momentarily, uncertain which direction she should take next. There were signs on the walls, but they were all in Omaron text. She decided on another left, resigned to returning to the hall if she didn’t have any luck finding a washroom here.

  The sound of a soft, feminine laugh caught Jillian’s ear. She picked up the pace, relieved she could ask someone for help. A figure was standing at the end of the hallway, but her nearsightedness and the gloominess of the area prevented her from distinguishing them clearly.

  “Hello,” she began when she drew closer, but then she realized that the one figure she’d thought she’d seen was actually two.

  A man and a woman.

  Jonnar and his acquaintance.

  Jonnar, whose hand was under the top of his acquaintance’s sari, and his acquaintance, whose legs were wrapped around Jonnar’s hips.

  And then there was her. Jillian. Standing there, her eyes wide behind her glasses, her lips slightly parted, her face probably as red as a pepper and just as hot.

  All three of them were frozen in place for what felt like ages. Then common sense returned to Jillian, followed by the crushing, suffocating weight of extreme embarrassment.

  She blurted out an apology and spun around so fast, she was dizzy for a second. But she didn’t care to orient herself. Pumping her arms and legs, Jillian power-walked blindly away from Jonnar and his female friend, hoping, desperately, she could out-walk her mortification and her ridiculous feelings of betrayal, too.

  2

  Jonnar

  —

  Jonnar tilted his head up, hoping the cold water spraying onto his face would shock him out of his bad mood.

  But even after the shower completed its washing and drying cycles, the scowl on his face persisted as he dressed himself.

  He disliked being in a bad mood, and he knew that was the main reason he was upset in the first place. On any given day, he did his best to maintain a serene disposition. While on active duty and in the midst of a grim battle, his men would regard him with admiration at his unworried attitude.

  Life was often terrible. No sense in dwelling on it and letting it ruin one’s day. Being upset about the unpleasant things in one’s life was easy. Slapping a grin on your face as you bore the bad experiences? Far more difficult, yet more rewarding.

  Jonnar ran his hand through his hair, rubbed his face, then rolled his shoulders. Casting a quick glance around his room, he retrieved his communication device with his telekinesis, wrapped it around his wrist, and headed for the door.

  Yes, he was upset that he was upset. Why? He was a coward. He’d had ample opportunity to tell Mikaal the truth last night. To look his Klar in the eye and insult him with the admission he no longer wished to serve as his army general, but to work as a common engineer. Instead, he’d avoided speaking with Mikaal altogether and tried to indulge in his favourite pastime with Aisana—no, Aisandra… Aisalia?—to forget his cowardice.

  And then that plan fell through, too, when the human showed up. His Klara’s sister—Jillian.

  Gods above, the disappointment in her bright blue eyes had hit him like a blow to the chest. In all his years, he’d yet to turn down a willing woman’s offering, but he’d lost all desire for the woman wrapped around him last night.

  He wasn’t oblivious. One did not rise to his current position as leader of an entire planet’s military force without possessing perceptive skills. He was more than aware his Klara’s kin had developed affection for him. A flattering thought, but not unsurprising. He was a strong, intelligent, attractive male, often without a lack of females determined to conquer him as their mate.

  And while he enjoyed all women and considered them gifts he should treasure and pleasure to the fullest extent, some women were verboten. For example, his Klara, who was his closest friend’s wife. And his Klara’s kin.

  Yet every time he looked at her, every time she gazed up at him with those twin pools of sky blue, his resolve weakened and the what-ifs grew louder. What if he touched her creamy skin? What if he kissed her full lips? What if he made her scream his name until she cried… cried out all that suppressed sorrow evident in her eyes?

  Thank the gods she was leaving today. All he had to do was restrain himself for a few more hours as he returned her to Earth. Then by the time she next visited, he wouldn’t be anywhere close to fight the urge to take a woman he should not have.

  Strips of pale blue light overhead illuminated the hallway, casting their reflection on the stark white walls and the metallic skin of the cleaning-bot coming toward him. The sterile scent of cleaning solution permeated the air, flooding his nostrils. He could almost taste the acrid flavour. The cleaning-bot side-stepped him as he approached, then immediately returned to adding an extra shine to the floors, making a whirring sound along the way.

  Jonnar made a turn down a hallway toward the carrier that would lead him up to the dock where his ship awaited. Ever since Varrack’s capture, the Lutvian rebellion had come to a swift close and Jonnar found himself with a lot more free time now that no wars were in progress. After finding and defusing hidden bombs left behind by the rebels, many of his soldiers had taken to peacekeeping or working with aid relief organizations for the civilians who’d been affected by the fight.

  And while he’d played his part in some of these tasks, his primary job was the protection of Omaron’s flight zones—a dull job that mostly involved dealing with rude and angry traders—or being the escort for members of the Council or royal family.

  The translucent carrier doors slid open to admit him as he approached. Just as he was about to enter, the doors slid open once more to let in Suri.

  “Greetings, Jonnar,” she said, a larger than usual smile on her face. A vision in a blue royal dress, and her dark hair coiled over one shoulder, she maintained a straight, graceful posture effortlessly. Like many, he considered her a stunning woman, yet Jonnar had only ever seen her as a sister.

  “You seem pleased,” Jonnar commented as he hit the button for the dock station. The carrier doors promptly slid shut and it made its way up.

  If it were possible, her smile widened. “I am. My sister will be completely mine as of today. I will no longer have to share her.”

  Jonnar smirked. “May the gods bear witness to this momentous day. The flawless Paera Suri admits envy of another.”

  “I did no such thing!”

  “Ah, so it is not true you seethed with blind jealousy as Megan strolled the palace arm in arm with her blood sister?”

  Suri pursed her lips. “You will not ruin my happy day with your assumptions, Jonnar.”

  “I understand completely.” Jonnar’s smile deepened. “The truth is often so hard to hear.”

  “And the truth is often so hard to tell,” she replied calmly.

  Her knowing smile made Jonnar uneasy. It wasn’t the first time he suspected Suri capable of mind-reading. It wasn’t unheard of in the Dava people, but only Elders after years of training attained such a skill.

  No response prepared, Jonnar gazed out through the transparent walls of the carrier. The spread of the palace property appeared larger from above, and the mountainside to the east was a coloured mix or dark blue and maroon. To the west, where city life thrive
d, Jonnar saw the sun’s glint on the chrome and glass of buildings, and the blur of hovercars as they whizzed away.

  The view held no surprise for him. This was normal, everyday life in Omaron. Yet he remembered the look of awe on Jillian’s face the first time she descended on the carrier. He’d felt a ridiculous sense of pride knowing he’d aided in giving her a moment of pleased wonder.

  At last, the carrier announced its arrival and slid its doors open to admit him and Suri onto the dock. Workers in white jumper suits scurried about the area, pausing briefly to pay their respects to Suri before they continued on to their tasks. In one of the docking stations stood his ship, a few workers buzzing around it as they did their pre-flight inspections.

  Standing close to the docking station, yet out of the way of the workers, Mikaal held Kelan as he conversed with an Elder, while Megan chatted with Jillian. Suri moved to embrace the women. Jonnar focused on Jillian for a moment, unsurprised when she studiously ignored him.

  “Took you long enough,” said Mikaal, a smile playing around his lips as he approached Jonnar. Kelan sucked on his bottom lip, quite content to be in his father’s arms. He had a remarkable resemblance to his father, and for a split second, Jonnar wondered what it would be like to have a child of his own. To pass along his heritage to a son or a daughter. Then he swiftly cast those thoughts aside, labelling them impossible and ridiculous. He would never be a father. He’d never had a father, so how could he learn to be one?

  “Apologies, my Klar, but a captain always needs his beauty sleep. It’s an important rule,” replied Jonnar. Then he nodded a greeting to the Elder, who did the same in response.

  “And did you remember this rule as you… entertained the beautiful Yena Aisamina last night?”

  “Beautiful?” squawked Megan, turning away from Suri and Jillian to give her husband an amused look. “That better have been said sarcastically or I might have to go home with Jillian today.”

  Mikaal chuckled, regarding his wife with affection. “Gods be damned, woman. You’ve the hearing of a petila boar.” The women laughed and he shook his head as he returned his attention to Jonnar. “I have news for you.”

  I have news for you too, thought Jonnar. But it was not the right time. Not here, around the others. His news would have to wait until his return from Earth.

  “I hope it’s good.”

  “In part.” Mikaal pressed a kiss to his son’s fingers when Kelan spread a tiny palm over his lips. “Ambassador Yulrich was killed. While his death is under investigation, the Council seeks someone to fill his role.”

  “Who would kill him?” Jonnar frowned. “Ambassador Yulrich has done much for maintaining Omaron’s allegiances with other planets. It would take someone of impressive skill to live up to his achievements.” Then his frown morphed into a look of confusion. “But where is the good news in this?”

  “You,” spoke the Elder for the first time since Jonnar’s arrival. Of the five Elders of Omaron, Elder Olin was the most reserved. His slim features were usually serene, unmarred with emotion, and he often avoided direct eye contact. Since Jonnar was a boy, he’d heard rumours that the Elders were devout users of the forbidden ruya herb. Whenever Jonnar encountered Elder Olin and his glassy, unfocused gaze, Jonnar wondered if the rumours held some truth.

  “I recommended you as a candidate,” Mikaal clarified with a triumphant, excited expression. He gave Jonnar a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. “I’ve known you for two decades, Jonnar. You’re an exceptionally skilled warrior, an intelligent negotiator, and an honest, loyal friend. You are the worthiest man for the position.”

  “That is…” Jonnar ran his hands though his hair. Surprise and embarrassment robbed him of words. He glanced in the direction of the women and found them regarding him with admiration. Jillian looked away, resetting her features to a blank, uninterested state.

  Then he remembered what he had to tell Mikaal. Conflicted, his forehead creased in a frown. With or without his desire to follow his dreams, he couldn’t be an ambassador. Such positions were held by men and women who came from prestigious families, or who thrived under such immense responsibility representing Mikaal outside of Omaron. He was none of those things. Yet Mikaal was not just his Klar, but his friend. To reject his generous gift would be doubly insulting.

  “Mikaal…” Jonnar began, but what could he say? The moment was inopportune for the truth. So he settled on a smile that felt forced around the corners. “Thank you. I am honoured.”

  One of the ship inspectors trotted up to them, and after a hasty bow, announced that all was ready to go.

  “We’ll talk more about it after your return,” Mikaal said, with another pat on Jonnar’s shoulder. He then gestured to the Elder. “Elder Olin will be joining you this trip. He’s curious about Earth and would like to visit it. Though I’m uncertain why. The planet’s technology is archaic, and its people are weak.” He glanced at Megan, a look of satisfaction and love on his face. “Well, not all of them.”

  This time Jonnar’s smile was genuine.

  “Mikaal, you must promise me an Ahmenian spear to the chest if I ever look this way.” He pointed at Mikaal’s face.

  “How?”

  “Sickeningly lovestruck. I would punch you to remove it. However, I would be imprisoned to the end of my days for raising a hand to my Klar.”

  Mikaal chuckled. “Fear not. Your turn is coming.”

  “To be so completely in love with a woman?” Jonnar smirked as he backed away toward his ship. “That will never happen.”

  3

  Jillian

  —

  “I apologize for last night.”

  Jillian tensed even further as she stared at the spaceship’s floor. It consisted of a black, glassy texture that wasn’t slippery. Yet focusing on the floor and the way the bright interior lights of the spaceship reflected off it helped calm her nerves.

  Then she looked up and met Jonnar’s gaze. Instead of his jacket and pants, he wore a light grey flight suit. While not form-fitting, the suit still didn’t hide the impressive breadth of his shoulders and the strength in his thick arms. Grudgingly, Jillian conceded that Jonnar could probably wear the most ragged clothing from a vagrant and still look handsome as hell.

  When standing, he towered over her effortlessly. Now that she was seated, she felt tiny and defenceless beneath his direct stare. Or it could be her anxiety for the space flight ahead giving her that impression.

  She clenched her fingers tighter on the handles of the seat as his words brought back the images she’d already fought so hard to eradicate from her mind. All of last night and this morning, she’d convinced herself what Jonnar did and with whom was none of her business, therefore, she had no right to feel anything about it.

  Judging from her rising irritation, none of those inner speeches had worked.

  “Are you sorry you did it or because I caught you doing it?” The words flew right out of her mouth. Jillian blushed at his frown and shifted her gaze from his face to some random spot past his shoulder. She desperately wished she could turn back time by a few seconds so she could come up with a far more dignified response to his apology.

  She was angry with him, sure, but he didn’t need to know that. Because if he did know she was angry with him, he’d want to know why, and the why—that she had an insane crush on him and seeing him with that woman last night had felt like a kick in the teeth—could never be admitted out loud. Never.

  “I am sorry you encountered it,” he said, surprise flickering in his eyes before disappearing behind a mask of professionalism. “It was not appropriate.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Jillian said coolly. “Next time, get a room.”

  “Have I upset you, my Yena?”

  “I hate being called that. I know what it means, but it’s weird to be called that instead of my name.” While half of Jillian panicked from her unusual rudeness, the other half celebrated it. “My name is Jillian.”

  Jonnar’s frown deep
ened as his tone took on a commanding edge, similar to the tone of a parent scolding a petulant child. “My—Jillian, you are nervous of the upcoming trip. Perhaps you will find it easier to bear if you spend the duration of the journey asleep.”

  “No.” Jillian scowled, touching one handle of her glasses to adjust them, agitated. “I’ll stay awake, thank you.”

  “As you wish.”

  Jonnar pivoted away from her and sank into the captain’s seat upfront. They were on the “bridge” of the ship. Apparently that was the name for the area where a spaceship’s controls resided. While Jonnar occupied the foremost seat as the captain, she and her co-passenger sat in two seats a few steps behind and flanking his sides, so they had an unobstructed view of the viewport.

  Jillian breathed slowly, inhaling a subtle chemical scent, before exhaling softly. Her shoulders slumped beneath the weight of her shame and remorse for how she’d behaved. She glanced to her left and found her co-passenger regarding her quietly. She didn’t know his name, but his beige robes, plain brown leather sandals, and maroon sash curving over his right shoulder and across his front identified him as an Omaron Elder. Their true purpose still remained a mystery, but Megan had told Jillian about their impressive abilities to harvest energy source from a being.

  “Every push inspires a pull, and so, a strong fighter inevitably becomes weak,” he said cryptically.

  Uncertain what he meant and how to respond, Jillian awarded him a weak smile.

  “Uh… I suppose so.”

  He turned away from her abruptly, his features serene, his body still. Even though he stared ahead, to where Jonnar made preparations for launch, his gaze was unfocused. Like he’d pulled in on himself and now only his body was present, but not his mind. A living, breathing statue.

  Disturbed yet a little curious, Jillian felt tempted to stretch across and poke his arm to see if he would tip over. She intertwined her fingers in her lap and restrained the urge. Instead, she faced forward as well, watching as Jonnar attended to five large screens at the same time.