The Alien King’s Mate part 4

VIVIAN

I raise a hand to protect my eyes from the glaring, flashing lights. But there’s no escaping the spotlight. The reporters are buzzing outside, and I can barely make out their questions.

“Will you be queen?”

“Will you move from Earth?”

“How do you feel?”

I look behind me to check if they’re talking to someone else, but there’s no one there other than the receptionist who looks as panicked as I am and holds the phone to her ear

There must be some confusion. Some prank.

They ask if I’ll be Queen? Queen of what? Of student loans? Of ketchup packets in the cupboard? Of abandoning TV shows and books?

I need to get to the car. I need to escape.

I rush to the exit in the back of the building but find even more reporters are pooled. So the front door is my best option to escape this madness.

I grip my pants by the pockets, as if that would help me run better, and I pull back the glass door.

I step out, but don’t get very far.

The reporters vanish from my focus as all of my senses lock on the horned male that stands beside the door. He had been blocked by a panel when I was inside, but now that I’m beside him, a lot of things are starting to make sense.

Like why the reporters didn’t enter the lobby. They were keeping their distance from the beast lurking on the grounds. God, is he terrifying. Seven feet tall, horns not included. His expression is flat, not giving away the tiniest hint. He makes me feel more self-aware than the cameras that are capturing my picture. He reminds me of how mortal I am. How much smaller. How messy my hair and clothes are. How slumped my figure is. I guess that’s what happens when you stare at perfection. An image of a male so perfect that he’s literally out of this world.

I curl my fists and look away. In my therapy appointment, Dr. Sorbec told me that I have many walls I have yet to climb. But as I stand here before this massive man, a wall in his own right, I realize some walls are unclimbable.

Defeat is imminent.

“There you are,” he speaks, his deep voice vibrating through the air and making me shudder. “You sent me on quite the search.”

He sounds so different than he does when he’s on TV.

“I’m—I’m sorry about everything, about running and about your grandma. Please stop this.” I plead, my eyes flickering to the reporters. I feel horror and embarrassment down to the roots of my hair.

I think of all the people this press footage will reach. My parents, my friends, neighbors, strangers, and all the people that have wished me ill. It’s a sickening thought. I’ve always tried to have a low profile, having abandoned social media. But now I'm facing all these reporters who are digging through my past for the last bit of information down to my elementary school report cards.

Anxiety is making me tremble, and the flashes are making my headache return.

The king frowns. “You don’t want this?”

“No!” I blurt. “No, please take it away.”

His eyes narrow, his expression cracking to allow a hint of confusion. What doesn’t he understand? This punishment he has given me has succeeded. I feel ashamed, small. I want to disappear like a scattering roach.

He turns to the crowd and waves a hand. “Enough!”

Five guards appear from where they blended in, their horns white unlike their king’s. Their uniforms the same. They work together to contain the crowd. The king has spoken, and now they’re pushing the reporters away, raising their arms to block the cameras and booming their own commands.

I walk backward, pressing against the glass door as my eyes remain wide.

The king steps in my view, blocking the background so all I can see is him. “Why didn’t you enjoy your announcement ceremony?”

I’m panting, sweating. “A—announcement ceremony?”

He looks genuinely confused. “Clearly, you must know who you are.”

I swallow, taking deep breaths to calm myself. Something isn’t right in my head, in my chest. I think I’m going to pass out.

Nothing is making sense. “My name?” I ask. That’s all I am. A human. A cleaner.

He reaches a hand out, and I flinch. He looks displeased by this as he presses his palm against the door and pushes it back.

I walk backward, entering the building and walking deeper until the flashes are gone. I don’t know if he’s following me. I don’t care. I need a dark, empty room before I pass out.

All the office doors are locked, and Dr. Sorbeck is nowhere to be found. I lean against a wall and palm my face, focusing on my breathing for a few minutes until the walls stop closing in.

I’m better. Stable. But I need to get home.

I lower my hands, yelping when I find the figure that’s in front of me. The king is still there, looking at me with a furrowed brow. With eyes pulling me in like a black hole.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Sir, king, your highness— I’m sorry but I have to go home.”

“There is no need. I already sent one of your men to get your things.”

Oh, no. So I’m going to jail after all?

“Please have mercy,” I say, my eyes stinging. I’m one camera flash away from sobbing. “I can’t go to jail.”

Hot air blows from his nostrils. Frustrated. “You are not going to jail. You’re coming home with me.”

“Home,” I repeat, feeling my panic return. “Like, to your planet?”

My voice is higher in pitch. This is surreal. The man is extraditing me because I spilled his grandmother’s ashes.

“You do not look excited,” he observes. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be your prisoner,” I whisper.

“You are not going to be my prisoner.” He steps closer, hands reaching out and grabbing my shoulders. Hands so wide that I feel even smaller.

“You are going to be my queen. My yuri.”

Yuri. I’ve heard of this word before. It’s what they call their soulmates—however that works.

I step away from the deranged, handsome man. Clearly his horns grew right into his brain and pierced something important.

“Yuri?” I rasp. “No. I’m human.”

He shakes his head. “I organized this world announcement ceremony and called you my queen and you have yet to show any gratitude. Only upset. Explain why.”

“Because I didn’t ask for this,” I grit, getting defensive.

“That answer is not acceptable, but we will discuss this later. Come. We must go home.” He tugs me forward. I think he meant to be gentle, but doesn’t realize his strength.

I scramble backward when I thud against his warm chest, disturbed by the energy that pulsed through me. Like static electricity that makes my hairs stand.

“I can’t go with you!”

My panic and anxiety are being joined with something else. Anger. Because this man wants to rip me away from my planet. It’s an inconceivable idea. And this soulmate talk is all nonsense. Me, a human, a perfect match for an alien king? Impossible.

“Oh, right.” He shakes his head. “How could I have forgotten? Tell me how much you require, and I will get it done.”

How much? Is he trying to buy me?

My horrified expression makes him tip his head to the side.

“Does this not please you?” He asks.

Maybe it’s the alcohol still in my system. Maybe it’s my disorientation. Something has me opening my mouth and blurting— “are you out of your goddamn mind, alien king?”

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