The Alien Prince’s Omega by Lorelei M. Hart
Kagin
I spentthe afternoon following Soothsayer Idda’s pronouncement in the palace library, researching Earthlings and their blue planet. The information had been provided by my grandparents long before First Grandfather had died. The pair of them were explorers and had headed a team of scientists and anthropologists studying known and unknown worlds.
At first, I wondered how out of date the data was, but after reading a handwritten note from Second Grandfather which said, “Little will change on Earth from generation to generation,” I was reassured. And while it was helpful knowing what I was reading—inhaling was more like it—was current, I worried how my mate would adapt.
I had not slept, not even a moment, since Idda had given me the news about my Earthling mate. As a prince and heir, I had accompanied First Father on diplomatic missions to distant planets. But none of the people we met were my fated mate. I was overjoyed that he existed and the universe had not played a cruel joke expecting me to live my life with someone chosen by others.
My parents had a love match and I wanted nothing less. The galaxy was littered with couples who had been matched by their families. And while some were mated happily, others lived separate lives, anger infecting them at being denied happiness.
My mind wandered to me introducing my mate to Thulnara and its many wonders. Was he pining for me? Had he been searching all of Earth’s nooks and crannies hoping I was nearby? I had to find him and soothe his worries. Him understanding that he would be a prince and Second Father to our babies might concern him, but those worries would vanish once we mated.
But my grandparents had not taken their team to the blue planet, so they themselves had noted minute details such as some Earthlings wore suits and hats and went to work carrying a briefcase, while others wore overalls and carried a lunch pail.
Their mates stayed home with their offspring and wore an apron. They enjoyed leaning over white picket fences chatting with their neighbors, but spent hours cooking and cleaning. They were always happy, and the little ones were bathed and ready for bed, and dinner was on the table when the First Father walked in the door.
In return, First Father would hand his mate dead plants or boxes of small brown things which reminded me of animal droppings. Ewww. And they ate them, and the children did too. So much ewww. I shuddered.
A small note at the end mentioned how valuable television was in informing them about life on Earth, and I learned that the opening at Idda’s home was a door.
I puzzled over the details of one person working and the other staying home. If my mate wanted that life, I would give it to him gladly, but if he wished to continue working, we would share the children’s upbringing. Herix and I had had nursemaids and tutors from around the galaxy, some present in person, others appearing as holograms from far across the universe.
When the king stepped down and handed me the crown, my mate would be my consort. It would be a huge change from his present life, whatever that was. But that would not be until we were long mated and our offspring grown.
But as I continued my investigation, there were also stories of people on Earth who looked, spoke, and acted differently who were treated badly, and that had my hands clenching, a fierce rumbling in my chest. The desire to protect my mate, though I had never seen his face, was overwhelming. No matter his appearance, I would love him unconditionally and protect him with my life.
And that had my thoughts turning to the mating. The act of us joining our bodies, pleasuring one another first, producing children later. My member swelled as I studied an Earthling’s anatomy. The Thulnarans I had lain with were always more than satisfied with my performance and I with theirs, the cries from our all-night sessions ringing through the palace until Second Father would send a message telling us to be quiet.
Earthlings were soft and fragile, and I stroked the image that hovered above me, turning it one way and the other, as I peered at the dips and planes on their bodies. Would my mate break when I entered him? I was at a loss after peering at the diagrams. An Earthling’s rod was tiny compared to my own, and I studied the arrows and the numbered steps my grandparents had written.
A put his member into B. That was me, I was A. I puffed out my chest. But B lay there and waited for A to finish. And B then spurted over the bedding, himself, and maybe A. And A fell asleep, leaving B staring at the ceiling. After staring at the old sketches—why were there no photos, were Earthlings shy—I noted something odd. B’s member just flopped around. Why was it not inserted into A?
Curious. But I had no time to consider it further. My mate was waiting. Idda had pinpointed his location and I had the coordinates in my pocket. I had chosen the changing of the guard for my escape. I hated the word escape because I was not a prisoner, but I should have informed First Father and been guarded by a specially chosen team.
But I had to do this alone.
There was a lot of pomp and ceremony when the guards changed shifts, and I snuck out of the library to a room under the main building. The palace had been built over a vortex which allowed us to travel anywhere in the galaxy. The sensors recognized me and I swished through the walls.
I am sorry, First Father and Second Father. I would deal with their anger when I came back with my mate. Would I be stripped of my skill, like a common criminal, to freeze or boil things with my hands? That ability was a birthright, but at a very basic level. Increasing the skill was earned, step by step, and I had achieved the highest stage.
So be itwas my last thought as I entered the vortex.