Alien Desire by Hannah Haze
Chapter thirteen - Tor
The next day she shows me images of her planet on the computer system. It is primitive, although not so very different from my own, oceans and deserts and mountains like mine. And full of greens and blues much like Astia. Her eyes sparkle as she shows me the sights, explains where she was born and where she grew up.
She wants to show me pictures of her family too but of course there are none. Instead, she describes them to me, what they looked like, what they were like, her memories.
It sounds so happy and so different from my own early life.
I sit and happily watch her, intrigued as always by the changes that play out across her face. It changes so often and it makes her truly exquisite, beautiful.
Then she describes the intense training she had to go through to become a space cadet and the hardships of her mission here. I can hardly believe a slight little thing like her has overcome such physical challenges and mental obstacles. She is unlike Omegas from Astia — fragile, feeble Grytons who require the protection of an Alpha and who do not like to stray far from home.
She speaks of her lost crewmates too — one female and two males. I can’t help a stab of jealousy at the mention of these men, especially when it is obvious she had affection for them.
Perhaps this jealousy is visible on my face because she is half way through a sentence when she seems to realise how long she’s been speaking. She laughs and colour spills into her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away. It’s been such a long time since I’ve spoken with anyone.”
“I like listening to you talk,” I tell her.
“I was babbling. I haven’t spoken about my family for so long. Tell me about yours, about your childhood and your planet. Were you always this big?”
“Of course not,” I say.
She examines me. “How old are you?”
“I am twenty-seven in Astia years but this is meaningless to you.”
“It is,” she agrees, frowning. “I am twenty-four Earth years.”
“And you are of sexual maturity, as am I.”
The colour in her cheeks darkens still.
How do I explain it? My life sounds so different to hers.
“We Alphas are not raised by our parents.”
“Oh,” she says simply, her forehead wrinkling.
“I lived with my mother until I was five and then I was sent to be with the other Alphas, to be raised by them and taught how to be an Alpha.”
“And your father?”
“I rarely saw him.”
She looks at me with an emotion I don’t recognise in her eyes. It looks a little like sadness. “Being sent away so young must’ve been hard.”
I swallow. I have never spoken with anyone about this. “It broke my mother’s heart to be separated from her only child like that, so I hated it. Even though I made loyal friends who I would happily go to war with, fight side by side, I could never be happy there when I knew it caused her pain.”
She nods. “I understand.”
“It is why I visit her so often now that I have come of age. It brings jeers and jibes from my contemporaries — they call me my mother’s pet — but I do not care. Perhaps if I was disliked, it would be used against me. But I am known for my strength, my sound judgement and fairness. It is why so many have declared their backing for me to be my father’s heir. And so this little softness, this weakness, is overlooked.”
“You and your mum are very close?”
“We are.”
“I think that is a strength not a weakness. Family makes us stronger.”
“Then why are you alone, little Omega?”
She glances down to her hands in her lap. The picture of her planet Earth flickers on the screen behind her.
“When my family died, I felt nothing. Not grief, or anger or pain. Just a … numbness. I didn’t feel human anymore. I didn’t feel anything and I wanted to feel. To be alive. So I signed up to be a space cadet. I knew the training was harsh and punishing, that I would be pushed to my limits, but at least I’d feel something, pain, exhaustion, anything. And I did. I felt those things. And I found a new family of sorts in my comrades. But it was always superficial, merely skin deep. It never penetrated further.” She sweeps her hand over her face and smiles at me flatly. “But this planet has changed me. This frozen planet has melted my heart.”
I don’t understand entirely what her words mean but I perceive the sentiment of it, because something similar has happened to me since I woke on this planet to find a strange creature curled up against me. The muscle in my chest aches in a way it never has before and I have a need to fix everything for her. To make it all right. But I can’t bring back the dead. I can’t resurrect her family. There is nothing I can do to fix that.
“Tell me about your planet,” she says.
I pat my knee and she comes trotting towards me and sits in my lap like a good little Omega.
“It is not vastly different from your own.”
“Can you show me where it is on the star map?”
I shake my head. “Your maps do not show my part of the universe.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I …” How do I explain this to her? Does she have the capability and the imagination to conceive more than she knows? “This is not my universe.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is not my universe,” I repeat. “I come from another.”
She stares at me. “There is only one universe,” she whispers. “There were once theories that there could be others but it’s been proven nonsense. The experiments to find other universes failed.”
“Before I crashed here, my kind knew of two universes. I believe this may be a third.”
She stares towards the window where large clumps of snowflakes tumble to the ground. “How did you cross then?”
“I am unsure. Some force took control of my ship and the next thing I knew I was hurtling out of control towards this planet.”
“Were you searching for other universes?” Her eyes sparkle. From her stories I know she likes adventures. “There is so much more of this universe I want to see — and to think there are others!”
I look her in the eye. “No, I was searching for Omegas.”
She flinches. “What?”
“It is complicated,” I say.
“Tor,” she says.
“My father considers me a threat to his leadership of our world. I believe he sent me on a futile quest in order to remove me without the need to take more violent means that would result in an uprising.”
“Your father, he’s what, a king or something?”
“He is the leader of our world.”
“Of the Omegas and Alphas.”
“And Betas too.”
“And so you’re … a prince?”
“My father has many mates and many children,” I say, unable to help the bitterness leaking into my voice.
“You think this is wrong.”
“One Alpha does not need all the Omegas. They should be shared among the Alphas.”
She jumps up from my lap and takes a large step away from me. Her face darkens as if a storm is brewing inside. “Shared! Like meat? Like cattle? To do your breeding and satisfy your carnal needs?”
Once again I do not understand what she means or why she is cross.
“Every Alpha deserves to be with their mate, to build a family with his or her Omega.” I add quickly, “Every Omega deserves this too. My mother has to share my father’s attention. She deserves more.”
“So if you were leader you’d change all this? You wouldn’t just take all the Omegas for yourself?” Her tone is laced with anger.
“I need only one Omega,” I say quietly, meeting her eye. Her features soften for a fleeting moment and then the rage returns.
“Does your mum love your dad? Does he love her back? Did she have a choice to be his?”
“Love?” I search for a meaning in my head and find nothing. The translation device scrabbles for one too and finds no comparable expression or word.
“Love,” she snaps. “Do they love each other?”
“I don’t understand,” I say simply and she looks at me with astonishment.
“Do you love your mum?”
“I don’t understand, Emma,” I say with irritation.
“You care for her. You are concerned for her welfare. You worry about her. You want to be with her. You enjoy her company.”
“Yes.” Although, it is this feeling that has caused me to be an object of jest.
“That’s love.” She frowns and rubs at her temple. “Although it’s a different type of love.” Her eyes dart about as she searches for the words. “In my world, we fall in love and those are the people we commit to be with for the rest of our life.”
“Your mate.”
“I don’t know if it is the same thing.”
“I’m not sure it is.” I have never seen great affection between my father and his Omegas.
“Maybe your species can not feel love.” Her eyes sadden.
“Maybe,” I say, a depression sweeping over me too.
She turns and walks away, leaving me in deep confusion.
Everything appeared so easy and simple when I first arrived here. I had found an Omega; one I could mate and claim as my own. I would take her home and show the Alphas of Astia the existence of Omegas from another universe. I would lead an expedition to find and claim more of them. I would win more of my kind over to my side and I would take my father’s throne.
Now I don’t know what to do. The Omega kisses me but she does not want to mate with me. She does not want to be owned. She wants love, whatever that is, something I cannot give her, and she pines for a dead family and a planet that is not mine.
I could use more forceful and persuasive tactics, as my father has done with many of his Omegas. Force her to submit to my will.
But I don’t want to. A peculiar idea is brewing in my mind, gaining traction all the time.
I want her to choose me. More than that. I want her to feel for me as I do for her. To love me like she described.
It is not enough I realise, to own her, to claim her. I am discovering that there can be far more between two beings than I ever perceived. Touching and kissing and holding each other.
I don’t want to take her back to Astia and lock her in my chambers. Remove her from the world. Hide her away. Rarely see her except on the occasions we are required to mate.
I want to lie with her and talk with her and kiss her soft mouth. I want to follow her as she fusses about her futile routine. I want to be out there in this new universe exploring with her. I want her to show me her world.
Will she let me?