Kidnapped By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett
Chapter Eleven
Callie gaped at Voren. “The cook is leaving?”
He shuffled uncomfortably, clearly not exactly thrilled his king had left him with this task. “She says she cannot work any longer with your head of house.”
“What’s a head of house?”
“It is someone who sees to the palace. The inside. The cleaning. Helping Neela get what provisions she needs.”
“Oh,” Callie said in understanding. “You mean a housekeeper.”
Voren nodded slowly. “I think so, yes.”
“I didn’t even know I had a head of house.” Voren looked pained, and she was pretty sure he muttered something she wasn’t meant to hear. She chuckled and patted the seat next to her. “Don’t loom. You’re too tall. Sit and give it to me straight.”
Voren tried very hard not to roll his eyes but sat as he was told. “Who’s the housekeeper?”
“That’s the problem. Technically, well, officially, you don’t have one. It was Fashtaa, aided by three assistants, and none of them are here. One of Maylesh’s attendants—Ky’raa—has taken over the responsibility.”
Callie blew out a breath. “What’s the problem?”
“Everyone else who works here.”
Callie grinned. “Let me guess. She thinks she can do things better than anyone else?” It was the same the world over, universe, whatever. “Does she get on with Neela?”
Voren winced.
“And what does Zak say?”
Voren looked like he wanted to run himself through with his ceremonial dagger. “It is the queen’s department. He would not presume to interfere.”
Callie arched an eyebrow. “You mean you told him, and he said it was my problem.”
Voren seemed to find the floor covering very interesting. “I asked my matriche, and she said I should bring it to you.”
Callie grinned. The thought that a seven-foot tall super strong warrior went to ask his mom for advice just about made her morning. It was also the first time he had mentioned any other family. “I met your aunt in the village,” Callie said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met your mom.”
Voren shrugged, seeming to completely close off, and Callie wondered what she’d said.
“Can you ask Neela if she will come and see me?” Voren nodded, looking relieved, and got on his communicator. He stepped out, and not more than a few minutes later, he showed Neela in and promptly went to wait outside.
“Coward,” Callie muttered and turned to smile at the cook, whom she had only met three times but had seemed very helpful. To be honest, anyone who could make anything edible out of a diet of gava berries, protein bars, and porridge deserved a medal.
Callie beamed and patted the chair next to her. Neela looked like she’d been asked to walk the plank.
Callie sighed. “Please sit down.”
Neela sat, and Callie decided to dive right in. “I understand there is a problem with Ky’raa, head of house.”
Neela twisted her hands. “I am unable to please her.”
Callie took her hand, and Neela clasped it gratefully. It took forever, but in stilted, one-word answers, it seemed that Ky’raa was trying to take over the menu planning, except that the things she was insisting Neela prepare either they didn’t have or was being saved for the Dry as she had been instructed. Both Callie and Zak had made it clear that the days of elaborate feasts when the rest of the people were hungry were well and truly over.
“I don’t understand why she thinks she has the right to go against what I say,” Callie said at last. She was new to the whole queen thing, but so far everyone had been okay. Her biggest problem was the huge silver alien that shared her bed every night. It was a very fine line between overprotectiveness and throwing away the key, and she knew that issue was going to come to a boiling point very soon. Maybe sorting out the household staff was her get-out-of-jail-free card.
Neela was back to wringing her hands. What had she said? Just that she didn’t understand why one of Maylesh’s attendants thought she was in charge.
“Did Ky’raa ever help in the kitchen? Was she one of Fashtaa’s assistants?”
Neela didn’t raise her eyes but shook her head.
“But that makes no sense,” Callie said. “And why has it even been allowed to happen?” Since when did people decide what job they would do. Hell, if Callie had known that, she would have been a pilot or something equally as cool. She couldn’t fly a plane, but based on Ky’raa’s assumption, that was a minor, insignificant detail.
“Why was she allowed to take on this role, Neela?”
Neela shook. Callie wasn’t sure why it was such a hard question, unless it had something to do with Maylesh. Maybe a reward for tending her? That seemed reasonable. She just needed to find something else for her to do.
“Neela?” Callie laid a hand on her arm, but it seemed one thing too many because Neela jumped up, spat out the word “Dula” or something like that, and burst into tears. She raced from the room.
Callie sat back in shock, and tears pricked her eyes. What the hell had she done? Voren put his head around the door a moment later and didn’t seem to know what to say. Callie was mortified. “Where’s Zak?” She might as well admit defeat now. He would find out soon enough anyway.
Voren even sat down without asking. “My queen?”
“I can’t do this.” She stood and paced. “What did I say to upset her? I was on her side.” Voren was clearly trying to translate how the side of the room Callie might have been in proximity to Neela had anything to do with her being upset and didn’t reply. “What does Dula mean?”
Voren’s head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he didn’t break something. He rose, a hand to his weapons belt, face full of fury. “She called you that? I will have her escorted from the palace. My queen, I am so sorry—”
“No, Voren.” Callie shook her head. “I don’t think she was calling me that—whatever it means. What does it actually mean?”
Voren squirmed but shook his head, and Callie decided to put him out of his misery. “Is Tamara here?”
He looked up, but his face seemed wary. “Yes, my queen. She will be—”
“Good.” Callie said. “Let’s go find her.” She knew Tamara had also been one of Maylesh’s attendants and had cared for Kaleth since he was a baby. She didn’t really know her, but Kaleth had turned out to be a very kind young male, so if Tamara was at least 50 percent responsible for that, it was a good indication of her own character. Besides which, it was really unfair to place Voren in this situation. Voren led her to a part of the palace she hadn’t seen before. The rooms were smaller but very much lived-in. Voren knocked and opened a door, standing back for Callie to enter.
Tamara stood up immediately, the sewing she had on her lap dropping to the floor. She bowed, then scooped it up.
“I’m sorry if we disturbed you, Tamara, but I wondered if I could ask your advice?”
Tamara’s eyes rounded, and she smiled, clearly delighted. “Of course, my queen.” She glanced at Voren. “Voren, perhaps some Ateel tea?”
Callie smothered a smile at Voren being politely ordered to do anything, but Voren disappeared immediately, and Callie sat down next to Tamara, gazing in awe at the racks and racks of fabrics and half-made clothes. She recognized the M’apeth silk. “Did you make the green silk outfit I have? It’s very beautiful.” She was wearing her customary jeans at the moment. Tamara beamed with pleasure and showed her some other outfits that were half-done.
Voren brought some fragrant tea which Callie dutifully sipped. She would have preferred a Starbucks latte, but beggars can’t be choosers as her mom would have said. Tamara eyed him quietly, but for some reason, Voren wouldn’t look at her.
She put the cup down after deciding she could only handle one problem at a time, and all suitable niceties had been observed. She took a breath. “Tamara, can you tell me what a Dula is?”
Tamara didn’t react with shock like Voren. “It depends on the context you heard it in.” So Callie told her about Neela and Ky’raa.
Tamara bit her lip. “I had heard and wondered if that would cause problems.” Callie waited patiently. Tamara put her cup down also. “A Dula is the same as…” She paused, and Callie knew she was exploring the translations available. “A concubine.”
Callie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t have said anything if her life depended on it. Neela thought Callie was… No. Callie sat back, stunned. Neela wasn’t calling Callie a concubine; she was saying that was what Ky’raa was, and if she followed that train of thought, she could only be the concubine of one person. The king. And it couldn’t be the old king because she wouldn’t think that gave her any status with the new one. It had to be Zak. Callie breathed in through her nose in an attempt to keep the sudden nausea at bay. It made sense. Why Ky’raa thought she could suddenly walk into a job and order other people around—because she had the favor of the king? Callie drew in a furious breath.
“He loves you very much, my queen,” Tamara said after a moment when she knew Callie had understood what was being said to her.
“Does he?” They had known each other for three weeks, and none of that time had exactly been date-night material. And what did that mean for the future? Once Zak realized she wasn’t going to give him a child, would he go back to Ky’raa? Because the baby thing—no matter what Zak insisted—could be the only reason he was with her. Yes, Ky’raa was older than Zak, but Callie wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. Zak had insisted she was his mulaa, but he had also said she didn’t panic and had looked after Lexie, wrangled the villagers and the other females. All excellent qualities if you were interviewing someone for the job of queen.
“Did you know that Maylesh never allowed my king to come to her after Kaleth was born?”
Callie looked up. “I knew it wasn’t a love match, but no, I didn’t know that.” But did that make a difference?
“And it wasn’t because she was sick. She was, but not all the time. She was in love with one of her guards. She finally told my king sometime before she died, but only after the guard had died himself.”
“Well, fuck,” Callie said, which she hardly ever did and guessed from Tamara’s smile it had translated fine. “And I suppose being a Dula is acceptable on Ishtaan?”
Tamara glanced away, but Callie caught the sheen of tears. “Tamara? I’m sorry. What did I say?”
Tamara took the offered hand. “You didn’t say anything, my queen, and I will tell you because I would rather you heard it from me than anyone else.”
Callie nodded.
“I was the king’s Dula.”
Callie absorbed that. “Zak’s father?”
Tamara smiled. “Yes.”
“But—” Callie snapped her mouth shut.
“It was over thirty-five cycles ago, and yes I was young, but I had stars in my eyes.”
“I’m sorry.” Because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“It was brief because I committed the ultimate crime, and it was only because my own matriche was friends with Maylesh’s family that I got a position with her.”
“Crime?” Callie parroted.
Tamara nodded. “Being a Dula was acceptable. What would never be permitted was becoming with young, especially if you were Dula to a king.”
“You got pregnant?” Callie asked.
Tamara nodded. “I was sent away. I had the young and then got the job with Maylesh. No one cared I was here so long as my son wasn’t.”
“Does Zak know?” Because she was sure Zak would be disgusted with his sire’s behavior.
“He does. As soon as he found out, the first thing he did was go and find him. My son couldn’t say who he was, and Zak was unable to acknowledge him until he was king, but made sure he is a fully trained warrior and an excellent pilot.”
“Have I met him?” Callie asked.
Tamara smiled. “He just served you tea.”
“Voren?” Callie exclaimed, completely stunned. But of course. He was Zak’s greatest confidant. He seemed to be more clued in and loyal than even N’ameth or Azlaan.
“And the king trusts him to care for what is most important to him.”
Callie smiled, understanding the compliment. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
Tamara smiled. “Always, my queen. I am sure my son wouldn’t wish you to say anything at the moment until a formal acknowledgment is made.” Tamara took both her hands. “The arrangement between them finished a long time ago. You are his mulaa.”
Callie managed to be her usual self with Voren, even though her mind was whirling in a million different directions, and walked back to her rooms, deep in thought. She wasn’t a hypocrite. Hell, Gary hadn’t been her first. The fact that he had been her last relationship had simply been down to working all hours and being so bruised from her marriage she was in no hurry to get involved with anyone else, but she had looked and seriously considered a few times. The issue—the main, vital one—wasn’t even what either of them had done before. She couldn’t even blame Ky’raa for assuming things would continue in the same way with another queen. But she had to make clear it wouldn’t. She’d known at the end that Gary was cheating on her. It had been that more than the money that had finished them. He had tried to blame it on her. Said her baby obsession had destroyed their marriage, and she had been prepared to take 50 percent of the blame. She hadn’t talked when she knew things were going wrong, but he had never come to her once and said he was unhappy. She doubted he ever would have, but she couldn’t make that same mistake twice. Zak wouldn’t know how she felt unless she told him.
“Where’s Zak?”
“In the training yards, my queen. We have a new intake of warriors now that he is king. The N’olaan warriors are also training.”
“Good. Please take me there.” She was going to get changed into something else, but then she changed her mind. Jeans was who she was. And either that would work, or it wouldn’t. But she needed to find out now.
Zak liked the new recruits. He liked that news of his naming was attracting some of the locally based warriors, but he had a long way to go to get any interest from the more remote villages. They were fighting hand to hand. He’d decided to put D’estaan through his paces, knowing a younger warrior would be more likely to try and impress him.
And it was certainly working. They were both slick with sweat and heaving for oxygen. D’estaan had boundless energy, but Zak had patience. He’d spent the last twenty cycles learning every agonized second of it under his sire. He just needed to let D’estaan think he was tiring, and he took a breath, but instead of sweat and the sand in the arena, a whisper of jasmine made his whole body tremble.
He was flat on his back, looking at D’estaan’s worried face before he knew what had happened. “My king!” D’estaan looked like he expected to be executed, but Zak wasn’t really taking any notice. He jumped up, slapped D’estaan on the back good-naturedly, and ran over to the stands where Callie was. Voren stood a couple of feet behind her. He glanced over at Ner’oh, the weapons master.
“Everyone dismissed.” He nodded to Voren. “You too. I will spend the rest of the day with Callie.”
He finally met Callie’s gaze with a wide smile. “I would greet you properly, but I am filthy and covered in sand.” He was a little surprised when Callie merely smiled and said she would wait if he was going in the shower. Although, his excitement over something else made him brush it off. “I’m sorry I left early.” Perhaps she was upset to miss him. They had taken first meal together the last few days.
She shrugged. “You cannot be there all the time. I know you are busy.”
Zak tipped his head to the side in consideration. That wasn’t like his mulaa. In fact, him being all sweaty hadn’t stopped Callie kissing him before. Maybe it was because he had left early. “I have something to show you.” He reached out a hand and led her toward the empty stable block where in his elder sire’s time it would have been filled with the Kal’re. He walked through the first door, past all the empty stalls until he got near the end one. “You must stay quiet. I don’t want her to be frightened.”
Callie nodded, and he carefully opened the door, nodding to the guard. He bent and made crooning noises to the animal lying on the floor. Sa’th the stable master was leaning quietly on the opposite wall, watching her. He heard Callie’s hurried intake of breath. “They are called the Kal’re and are indigenous to Ishtaan, except we thought they were extinct. Patrols found her in the early hours. She’s half-starved. Her leg is broken, and she has a vicious wound on her side.” Sa’th didn’t say, but it was likely she was attacked by a Veerlash.
Callie dropped to her knees on the matting and stared at the animal in wonder. He tried to see the Kal’re through her eyes, and he imagined a cross between a stag and a horse, except this one was near the point of starvation. “Poor baby,” crooned Callie. “Will I scare her if I touch her?”
Sa’th pushed himself from the wall and handed Callie some Eldew roots. “Try these. It’s a treat for her.”
Callie took the small green roots and plucked one off, offering it to the Kal’re on the flat of her hand. The animal lifted her head, sniffed a little suspiciously, then took it delicately in her lips and chewed.
“That’s what makes me think she wasn’t always wild,” Sa’th explained. “She hasn’t reacted to any of us like we’re going to hurt her. Neela is making me some mash for her, but there’s something else, my king.”
Zak looked up at Sa’th’s excitement. “What?”
“I borrowed one of the monitors from the shuttles like you said to check that she didn’t have any internal injuries, and there’s a second heartbeat.”
“She’s pregnant?” Callie said in awe.
Zak was speechless and watched as the Kal’re ate another root.
“That’s amazing,” Callie said and smiled.
“It’s more than that.” Zak almost choked out the words. “If she’s pregnant, that means there’s at least two males out there.”
“Two?” Callie repeated in astonishment.
“The Kal’re need to be inseminated by two different males to get pregnant, or the pregnancy never develops,” Sa’th explained.
“We could restart the breeding,” Zak said in wonder. It was a sign. A sign his planet, his home, wasn’t dead or dying. That they had a future.
Callie stood quietly after the Kal’re ate all the leaves. “This is your priority now, by my order,” Zak told Sa’th, and the old male grinned.
“Yes, my king.”
“She’s beautiful,” Callie said after they had walked outside. Zak abruptly realized he still hadn’t discovered what was wrong with Callie.
“Voren said there was a problem with Neela this morning. I had been summoned here and told him to bring it to you. I’m sorry if he disturbed you.”
“So you didn’t know what it was about?” Callie asked carefully and turned to look at him. Zak stepped closer. He didn’t like the way his mulaa seemed so unhappy. She had been blissful as she slid into sleep last night, almost while he was still inside her. Maybe that was it? Maybe she was tired. Perhaps Azlaan should look at her.
“No,” he answered finally, realizing she had asked him a question. Callie looked around and pulled him back into the stables but at the opposite end from the Kal’re where they wouldn’t be heard.
“What is it, my Callie?” He brushed one of her long, beautiful hairs away from her face.
“The problem is Ky’raa.”
Zak frowned. Opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed. Of course it was. “You have spoken to her?”
Callie shook her head. “Did you make her your head of house?”
“Ky’raa?” Zak repeated in astonishment. “Of course not. I honestly don’t think I have even seen her since Maylesh was sent to Ash’dar. And then only because she and Tamara prepared Maylesh for her journey.” And he had sat and watched over the body as was the tradition for a full daylight until the fires had been lit.
“And before that?”
Zak met Callie’s hurt gaze, but he knew what she was asking. “I’m not sure what it is called on Earth, but yes, I lay with Ky’raa. We had a formal agreement because I don’t just have the freedom to date, I believe you would call it, and I could not lie with a younger woman and deny her the chance of her own warrior.” He shook his head. “Even if there had been any available. But the last time was before the festival of the sun last year. I went to her to formally free her of our arrangement, and she agreed.”
Callie stepped forward and cupped his cheek in her palm. “We both have a past. I just want to know I’m your future. Only me.”
Zak ignored the dirt and the sweat and dragged his Callie closer, molding her to his length and dipping her backward slightly before fastening his lips over hers. They kissed until they had to break for gulps of air, but he didn’t let go. “I would kill any that thought to touch you like that, my Callie. How could I expect any less of you?”
She grinned and jumped, her jean-clad legs wrapping around his waist and their mouths locking. Zak quickly stripped Callie. He had thought to go get clean, but nothing short of an explosion could keep him sinking into her wet, hot depths. “Zak,” Callie moaned as he laid her down on the matting.
“My queen,” Zak gasped and not hesitating, slid into her in one thrust like it was meant to be. He stilled for a heartbeat, trying and failing to gather some semblance of restraint, but then Callie moved and he was lost. Every thread of his control snapped, and with a roar, he pounded into her. Head back, eyes closed, beautiful swollen lips wet with kisses, she shuddered and tightened as her climax rolled over her. It was the most beautiful sight Zak had ever seen.
