The Alien Prince’s Omega by Lorelei M. Hart
Kagin
I am in love.
Hanson may be my rupling. No, he was my rupling, but fries… I had no words to describe how good they were.
“You like them, right?” he asked as I stuffed a handful in my mouth. “Would you say they’re out of this world?”
If this deliciousness came from another galaxy, I had to get the recipe. “Mmmm.”
“We often eat fries with ketchup.” He indicated a small bowl containing a red sauce. “Go on.”
I did as he asked and thrust more fries between my lips, opened my mouth wide, and shoved in the red stuff. All of it.
“Or you could dip it.” He shrugged. “But never mind.”
“So good,” I agreed.
Hanson tapped his mouth. My grandfathers’ research was detailed in some aspects, but there were huge gaps in my knowledge. Never knowing the existence of fries was a crime. I touched my mouth repeatedly too.
“You have a little something.”
I put my head to the side. “I doubt there is anything about me that is little, Hanson. Which part of me are you referring to?”
Fries and ketchup flew out of his mouth onto the table, and he coughed. “After getting an eyeful this morning, I agree, and I can honestly say there is nothing about you that’s small.” He leaned over and wiped the corner of my mouth with a square of soft paper. He sat back. “Why are you grinning?”
I tipped my head to the side again. “I am cocking my head. Cock! So many uses for one word. I could walk around all day just saying cock and everyone would understand me.”
Once again his cheeks became pink. Even the tips of his ears. “Mayo’s good too.” He demonstrated by putting one, just one, fry in the creamy sauce and then putting it in his mouth.
Humans ate so slowly. Why take one when you could pick up a handful? But wanting to fit in with my surroundings, I did as he had done. “Yum.”
After we had finished, Hanson paid, saying, “You’re my guest.” Outside, we breathed in the sea and I took Hanson’s hand again. I increased the temperature on my palm and the noise coming out of his mouth was like a baby animal. “I have to go to work.”
“I am excited I can watch.” He did something funny with his face. “Can I watch?”
“Yes, I don’t see why not.” He let go of my hand and grasped my shirt. “But sometimes animals are wary of strangers, so if they’re afraid, I’ll ask you to wait outside.”
I did not understand why the creatures would be scared of me, but I agreed. When we got to the place he called his clinic, people were sitting there with their animals. The humans narrowed their eyes at me, reminding me I must tell our scientists to improve the glamour. A small hint of blue shone through even when it was on.
But the air crackled with tension as the animals—the small, smaller, and the really tiny ones—pricked up their ears, hissed, cried, and howled. Hanson giggled, but it wasn’t from happiness, because the laughter never reached his eyes. He shoved me into a room and closed the door behind us.
“I do not think they liked me.”
“Mmmm.” He pressed something and said, “Maisy, can you send in the first patient.”
A young girl walked in holding a soft, fluffy animal. “This is Annie with Thumper. He’s a rabbit,” Hanson explained as he put the animal on a table.
Annie furrowed her brow. “You’ve never seen a rabbit?”
Hanson translated for me. I shook my head. “I come from…”
“He’s a long way from home,” Hanson finished my sentence.
The rabbit looked at me, his long ears flat against his body, his eyes big and bulging. “I won’t hurt you, little one.” Annie petted Thumper and I reached out, very slowly. He didn’t fidget or huddle away from me. I placed my hand on his back and warmed him. His nose twitched, and he wriggled.
“He likes you!” Annie grinned. I didn’t need Hanson to tell me what she said.
“He does,” Hanson agreed.
I observed my rupling examine Thumper and give him cream for his ears. After they left, a man brought his dog in who had a sore foot. And after that, a woman arrived with a cat who had an eye infection. Each time, Hanson was calm. He explained everything to the humans, and he was so gentle and kind. It brought tears to my eyes. Even the cat who hissed at me was content after Hanson quieted him.
But as animals and their humans came and went, while I admired the work Hanson was doing, it also had me rethinking my purpose of claiming him as my rupling. I had thought of it as opening his eyes to a new world, a new planet. A different way of life, at my side. Me ruling over Thulnara, us having offspring, one of whom would eventually follow in my footsteps.
His work here on Earth was important. Perhaps instead of showing him an exciting way of life, I would be tearing him away from a purpose that he loved. And by doing so, would I rip out his heart at the same time?