Chapter 8

I’ve never been cheered like this. I’ve never stood on a balcony, wearing nothing but a weird alien garment, with a king by my side, his cum literally dripping hot down my leg. The crowd of gray-skinned Roth aliens watching the two of us, judging, if they way they’re pointing at me is any indicator, makes me slightly ill.

But I stand there, and I paste a flimsy paper cut-out smile on my face and let them look, let them cheer.

I will be the happy little queen. I’ll play my part.

I got exactly what I wanted, didn’t I?

My eyes dart to where Lyko stands next to me, his gaze scanning the crowd of male aliens below. What does he see?

Is he like me, scanning for threats?

Does he see the enemy?

I married the enemy.

Not only that, but I had sex with him, and I enjoyed every second of it.

My heart rate picks up, and I inhale deeply through my nose. A small part of me is disgusted with myself, for what I’ve become on my quest to make sure something like the Roth invasion never happens again.

Have I become so detached from everything in my past, in Earth’s past, that I can do this? Am I selling part of my soul, along with my body?

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“She has the mark of a god,” someone in the crowd cries, and I realize the mark around my ankle is, in fact, visible with their Roth vision.

What piece of my soul did that mark cost?

A hush falls over the crowd, the silence ringing in my ears, an overwhelming pressure all around me. No wonder Leigh left. No wonder she ran away.

She didn’t choose this, not like I did.

I won’t be crushed by the crowd. I won’t be drowned by some alien god’s games.

I won’t let Earth down.

I won’t let myself down.

My feet move me forward, until I’m past the point where the guards told us to stand, my fingers clenched around the railing that keeps me from plummeting off the balcony entirely.

“I was marked by the gods.” My voice rings out, louder than I anticipated. “I am the rightful Roth queen. You will spread the word. Lyko is your king, and your gods have chosen me as your queen.”

I must have watched Evita too many times as a kid, because now I’m raising my arms, and the crowd roars below me.

“It won’t be easy,” I start, then clear my throat. No. I am not going to let the theater kid crammed way down inside me out right now. “It won’t be easy to reunite the Roth under Lyko’s banner,” I tell them, channeling Eva Perón (Madonna’s version). “But we must do it. The fate of both our species depends on it. The fate of the galaxy depends on it. Let our marriage usher in a new age of prosperity and peace for the Roth,” I cry out, my voice louder with every word.

Well, maybe I let the theater kid out a little bit.

My hands shake against the railing, and then there’s an arm around my waist, pulling me away from the edge.

“My wife speaks the truth,” Lyko booms out from just behind my ear, his strong arm around me, holding me tight. “We must work together to overcome the divisions between the home planet and the settlements. She has the approval of the gods themselves. Does she have yours?”

The response of the crowd is near deafening, and the balcony shakes underfoot from the vibrations.

Nervous, I glance up at Lyko, whose dark gray eyes glimmer with orange flames. The crowd energizes them, their fervor, their adoration. He remains fixated on the sea of Roth below, and I realize something.

Not only does he not know who I am, but I hardly know anything about him either.

That’s a problem.

I thought I could manipulate him with sex and use my na?ve Piper demeanor to coax him into doing what Earth needs, but now? I don’t think that’s going to work.

I also think I might have blown that persona away completely when I was screaming his name with his dick inside me.

I need a new strategy, and it scares the shit out of me to realize something else.

Billie might have been right when she said I was in over my head with this one.