Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance by Juniper Leigh

as that.”
    Lorelei’s face was full of fear, and I found her absently reaching a hand out toward me as though I myself could hold onto her and keep her safe. “There must be something we can do,” I protested. “There must be some way to protect her.”
    Waelden glanced at his own wife who seemed about as interested in the proceedings as she was in the packed dirt upon which she was sitting, and he heaved a sigh that deflated his entire body. “Well, there is one thing we could do.”
    “What is it?” I asked, and Lore leaned forward as we both waited with baited breath.
    “You could marry her.” Lore let out one abrupt little laugh, and I just sort of blinked so that my eyes might clear.
    “Pardon?” I asked, hoping I had somehow misheard him.
    “She is the property of the Quarter Moon Slavers. If they were to come planetside this very moment, they would see you as a thief of that property. But if you were to marry her—”
    “Then I become his property?” Lorelei demanded, indignant.
    “More or less,” Waelden confirmed. “So I suppose the question you must ask yourself is, to whom do you wish to belong?”
    “I belong to myself, and I will thank you to remember that,” Lorelei asserted, snatching the Panyan liquor away from Waelden to drink deeply of it herself.
    “My lady,” Waelden asserted, “I did not say this was a just thing. Merely that it might be the only way to protect you from their reaches so that you might be free long enough to rescue your friends. I am not even certain that it would work, truth be told, unless we could somehow prove to them that you were married prior to their having detained you in the first place.”
    “And it doesn’t have to be me,” I said quickly, in order to reassure her that I was not doing something preposterous, like trapping her into a union. “It could be any member of the Qet. Well, any unmarried member of the Qet.”
    “And who better than Calder?” Waelden asked, slapping me on the shoulder. I sat there in stunned silence and relieved Lorelei of the liquor bottle, even as Waelden rose to his feet. “We will leave you two to discuss your options, for the Winternight grows cold and it is time that we turn in.” Ever the gentleman, Waelden held his hand out to Vanixa, who spurned his assistance and rose to her feet of her own volition. Waelden muttered something under his breath as she passed quickly in front of him to disappear into their tent. “We shall travel with you back to Larandi tomorrow,” he said. “Until then, I bid you good evening.”
    Neither Lorelei nor I said anything as we stood and headed into the opposite tent, but I still had that liquor skin in my hands, and I drank from it. Oh, did I drink from it.
    “Calder,” Lorelei began, but I held up a hand to silence her.
    “There is no sense in making any decisions now,” I said. “We’ll sleep, yes? And discuss it further with clear minds in the daylight.”
    She gave a sharp nod of her head in agreement before we headed into the tent.

CHAPTER SEVEN: LORELEI VAUSS
    Married? To Calder? Or to anyone for that matter seemed completely absurd. What kind of backwards, antiquated bullshit had I stumbled into? I was no one’s property, not a slaver’s or a husband’s. My head swam with distress and Panyan liquor as I sat myself down on the furs that Calder laid out for us inside of what I was certain was Vanixa’s tent. There were pastel drawings all over it’s insides, and little trinkets set up around the perimeter. It was cozy and warm, and quite beautiful for a tent. But what was so wrong with marriage to a Qeteshi that necessitated that a man and wife have separate sleeping domiciles?
    Between the two of us, Calder and I finished off the liquor, and we lay side by side on the bed of furs, staring at the dancing shadows on the roof of the tent.
    “Maybe,” I murmured at length, certain that Calder was still just as awake as I was, “maybe it would not have to be like a