✅ The Alien King’s Mate: Complete Story

An alien king with gold horns has declared me as his Mate and Queen of his planet on national television.

An alien king with gold horns has declared me as his Mate and Queen of his planet on national television.

An alien king with gold horns has declared me as his Mate and Queen of his planet on national television.

Me. The human woman whose most exciting part of the day is cutting coupons from the newspaper. I guess I can kiss my quiet life goodbye now that I'm standing in front of a dozen cameras with a fucking alien king standing beside me, making low grunting noises and... is that a tent I see in his pants?

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VIVIAN POV

“I’d trade all of my gold just to kiss that man.”

I snort at my best friend and steal a potato chip from the bowl she holds on her lap. We just finished our work shift, and now we’re lying on our couch in the darkness of our shared apartment, watching TV.

The news outlets are celebrating the 42nd year since we made contact with the Versai. Aliens from a far away world, whose planet is smaller than ours, but rotten with natural resources. By Earth terms, they are filthy rich.

The Versai have a monarchy in place. And for the past six years, their king has been coming to Earth to greet us—well, more like acknowledge us. He never looks excited about these things. Miserable, actually. The mood of the seven-foot alien is darker than his shadow. He always wears simple clothes—thin tunics and pants, often black and white. But his golden gauntlets, necklaces, and horns prove he’s anything but simple. He’s the king of gold, but there’s no spark in his eyes. No life. For the past six years since I’ve been watching him appear on TV, I can’t tell if he’s glaring at the cameras and reporters or at the world.

I’ve picked up a few of his mannerisms. How he sets his jaw and taps a finger on the podium three times when a question irritates him. How he runs a hand over a horn in exhaustion right as he declares an interview over.

The king has inspired many books—some historical, most erotic. He hasn’t been king for long, and is in need of a queen. Apparently, his people have soulmates, and humans line up outside his hotel to check if they’ve won the lottery by being his soulmate.

Hell, I’ve got so many bills I might as well go and check, too.

He’s a handsome man, even with the stripes of gold on his cheek and neck. That’s the thing about these aliens. They can turn items to gold with just their touch. But that’s not exactly a gift. I hear that they destroyed much of their planet through wars. Entire ecosystems were frozen. Plants, rivers, and land covered in so much gold that nothing can grow or thrive anymore.

But of course these are only rumors. There are few photographs of their planet, and we have no access to visiting it.

Earth is salivating for their gold. We’ve been negotiating with them for decades, but they refuse to bring their gold to Earth.

“You don’t have much gold, Harper,” I remind my friend.

“I’ll show him what gold truly is when I open this mouth and fall on my knees,” she says, popping a chip in her mouth and licking her lips.

I snort. “Uh-huh. Why don’t we return to reality for a second?”

She rolls her eyes. “Alright. There’s a gig in two days at some gala. Do you want to go?”

Harper and I own a cleaning company. We started a year ago, and business has been going well. She does the people part, and I do the bookkeeping part. We’re a good team. An unexpected one, since we’re nothing alike. She’s a tough older woman that survived a few years in the army, and a few years with an abusive husband. And I’m… me. Just me.

We share an apartment, and I couldn’t ask for a better roommate. Well, maybe one that doesn’t drool over any hot guy that crosses the TV (human or alien. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t discriminate).

“Is the pay good?” I ask her.

“Yeah. We might even run into one of these golden boys.”

“Then let’s go.”

I change the channel, setting it on a home improvement network.

“What if we see the king at the gala?” Asks Harper.

The question makes me snort. So what if we see the king? He certainly won’t be seeing us in our grey scrubs. Our uniforms are plain to make us blend into the background. We walk into the place, clean it, and disappear. That’s how the rich customers like it. And hey, I’m not complaining as long as I get paid for my hard work.

So no. This elusive, mysterious, otherworldly king will not notice us.

“If we run into him, you can show him what true gold is, just like you want to.”

Harper grins, snatches the control from my hand, and changes the channel back to the news. My eyes lock on the king’s horns. They’re stunning, made of pure gold while the rest of his people have white horns.

It’s like his very horns are his crown, but they seem to weigh heavily, because he seems deeply, truly unhappy.

KING VULCAN

Humans. The comedy relief of the cosmos. There is so much death, tragedy and hopelessness scattered across the stars, but the humans bicker over the most foolish reasons. Fossil fuels. Land. Religion. They are children. Laughable. They are convinced they are the center of the universe without seeing an inch of it.

And yet, my parents saw hope in them. That’s why they made contact. Made our world known to Earth. They even named me after an Earth God; Vulcan. They studied the human culture closely and saw something I don’t see. Even now, as king, I don’t see what makes humans special.

The only thing I see is their beautiful planet, and their willingness to destroy it. My people were reluctant to make contact all those years ago. I was just a child. But it was the beauty of their oceans and forests that made us agree to reach out. Because on our planet, we don’t have much nature left.

Then there’s the few mateships that have been formed with humans. They are rare—one in a million, but they appear.

I sigh as I sit on a human bed in their primitive hotel. The bed is weak, and the wind coming from the window is too light. This is my last night here. I must attend their clown show or “gala” to uphold appearances. But I won’t enjoy shaking hands with greedy politicians who are foaming at the mouth to get their hands on my gold. Or those desperate to find the portal that takes me home, so that they may invade my planet. Or the women throwing themselves at my feet, crying out for a queen’s crown that they don’t deserve.

I know not all humans are like this. I’ve met respectable, honorable people that look at my eyes, not the gold horns atop my head. But had it been my choice, I would have never let the worlds meet. I would have kept my kingdom private. Unknown. Safe.

Earth’s beauty and the few found mates aren’t worth the danger we exposed ourselves to. But what’s done is done.

I rise from the bed and duck my head to pass the short doorframe, clipping a horn accidentally. My mood sours. The two attendants that had been waiting outside my door follow me down the steps, and I already hear the chatter downstairs. I took the exit stairs, avoiding the entrance lobby and the hundreds of flashing cameras. This is another part of humanity I’ve never understood. Why must they stalk their “celebrities”? Why watch them closer than the gods do?

The smell of cleaning products irritates my nose. As I step into a staff kitchen and spot two humans scurrying around.

“What are we going to do?” One of them panics.

Now curious, I step back, shielding myself with a wall. My assistants silently follow.

“No, we can’t use a broom to sweep it up!”

“You’re right. This is an expensive broom.”

“No! I meant that we already spilled their ashes. We can’t desecrate them any more.”

Ashes? What is this nonsense about? What could ashes possibly be doing in a kitchen? Unless… unless they got their hands on the vase of seasoning my people brought as a gift to earth. The seasoning is very grey. Ash-like. And the vase should have been engraved with the season dates of harvesting.

This is a precious gift I offered to Earth, and I can’t understand why these servants have it. To steal it, perhaps?

Not wanting to deal with this mess, I walk back up the stairs. I already did my due diligence and handed the gift to the human politicians. How they carelessly lost the gift is their problem.

My men are silent. They always are, unless I address them. Behind closed doors, we are close friends, but we keep appearances outside.

On the second floor, I take a different staircase and prepare my body for the swarm of humans that will throw fake smiles at me. My expression remains stoic. I don’t care to fix it for them, as my sister would advise me to. They should know that I don’t want to be in their presence, and I’m only here out of duty.

My men and I struggle through the narrow corridors and doorframes. We average a foot taller than humans, and that only makes it easier to be in the spotlight. Humans are smaller, thinner. But I suppose they have a unique attractiveness. Their women are certainly a sight to behold.

I enter the great hall with the red carpet unrolled. The round room is lit with chandeliers and draped with exquisite, long curtains. Gold curtains. The plates and utensils are gold too, and as are the accents on the tablecloth. They did this to honor me. But all I see is their obsession with my planet's gold.

The place is already full of humans. I’m always one of the last to arrive. They turn, raising their heads to get a good look at me. The men wear the same thing: a black tux, while the women wear diverse dresses.

I spend the next hour curtly answering their questions. I miss home. The palace and the peace it offers. The people that don’t dare to interrupt me, especially with their boring, repetitive chatter.

I suffer through the hell of socialization for one too many conversations, running a hand through my hair and stroking my right horn in frustration.

I can’t stay here. Although it would be rude to leave the event this early, my temper is teetering. It’s best if I leave before I explode and leave the humans in need of another planet.

I skip the elevator as usual, even if it’s private. I can’t risk running into another bug-eyed politician and listen to the slick bastard rant about why I should invest in his company.

Right as I enter my room, Ceros, my right-hand man, asks, “you really hate them so much that you don’t stay until dinner?”

I groan. “I don’t hate humans. But it’s hard to love them when they murder your parents.”

My parents were murdered by a rogue team of them, although even in their last breath, they had hope for our worlds to unite. This happened decades ago, but the pain and confusion is fresh.

Cero’s smile falls from his face, and I disappear into my bedroom, gritting my teeth when my horn skims the door frame.

Sleep doesn’t come early. Although they adjusted the bed to fit my height and the sheets are the silkiest that the planet could offer, this isn’t home. And although we’re on the fifth floor, there’s a distant buzz from the women lined at the gates hoping to meet me and magically become my yura. My soulmate. My queen. Some men would consider their obsession flattering. But to me, it’s just bizarre. I am but a regular man, with more titles to his name than the next one.

I doubt my yura is here. If I haven’t found her after thirty years in my homeland, she won’t be here.

Things would get immensely complicated if she were human, and not only because humans aren’t allowed in the kingdom. It’s not possible. The gods wouldn’t screw me over like this.

I stay up for most of the night, pacing and thinking of all the things I have to do once I return to the place. I’m excited about it, preferring paperwork over human chatter any day.

— —

I rise with the sun. That strange, single sun that’s nothing like the triple suns over my homeland.

My bags have already been packed, and all I need to do now is cross the portal home. The portal humans have offered anything to cross: weapons, wealth, land, women. But this is a secret of our world. One more precious than the gold that runs through the city’s veins. I will never share it.

My men and I walk out of the room right as two women with clattering buckets and uniforms step out of the private elevator, giggling and distracted.

I recognize the destructive duo from yesterday.

I stand there, studying them as they come to an abrupt stop. Their eyes widen and the buckets drop as they realize they’re under my shadow.

My eyes shift to the youngest female, and confusing feelings flood me. Desperation and lust. I look down at my fist right as the two women mumble an apology and stumble back into the elevator they came from.

My fist is covered in gold. It’s wrapped tightly like an armor. I grip my wrist and focus on making the gold receded back into my body, disturbed by my loss of focus. Pain blares through me as I fight my instinct. It’s the strangest, most terrifying experience I’ve had in a while.

I’m not supposed to summon gold. None of my people are. It’s banned. But that beautiful young girl snapped something inside me, and—

The girl!

“Get her,” I grit to my men as I struggle with the burning pain in my arm. My body won’t listen to my command. Gold wants to pour out of me and wrap around her, until she’s trapped and all mine.

I’ve never experienced this for a woman. But I know what’s happening. I’ve read accounts of the madness swirling in my veins.

I’ve met my yuri.

My gods have screwed me over, because she’s human, but it doesn't matter.

My men run down the steps to beat the elevator. They’re gone for a while, and I’m left alone to calm my breathing. When they return minutes later empty-handed, I know there’s trouble.

My queen is gone.

I must find her. My return home will have to wait.

I didn’t even get her name. Out of all the women I met, she’s the first that runs instead of throwing herself at me.

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