Chapter 9

Lorelai

D espite how crappy the morning had started, when the Overlord started laying out a logical, step-by-step plan I began to feel a tiny bit better. A thread of hope wormed its way through my bleak, tired soul.

This isn't an impossible situation. Not if he agrees to help you, I realized.

He had power. Tons of it. He could probably pull any strings he wanted. As long as I was nice to him, hopefully he'd pull those strings and get me back to my ship and the life I was trying to build. Re-build.

I watched as he punched a button on his phone, then placed it to his ear.

"Ellax Pendorgrin," he said. His tone was crisp. Authoritative. "Connect me with the ship's bridge."

I couldn't hear what was said on the other line, but in a moment a different voice was speaking. Ellax responded, "Good day, Captain. I am requesting a face-to-face meeting with you. We have, uh…" He slanted me a look. "…a situation on our hands." Silence. Then, "Very good. I will see you then."

He pressed a button to end the call, nodding briskly at me. "He will meet me straightaway."

"May I go too?" I asked eagerly. If they were going to be discussing my fate, I wanted to have a say in it.

The Asterion Elder frowned like I'd lost my mind. "I think not. What value could you add to the conversation?"

Instantly, I felt heat rise. Of course. Me. Lorelai Bristol? No value. Ever.

I pursed my lips to keep from swearing at him.

Perhaps he saw how angry I was. Tilting his head, he said in a slightly less degrading tone, "Come, come, I meant no offense. It is only, you are a human female of no rank or worth. The captain of a space ship such as this has no time for you. He scarcely has time for me, especially as we should be approaching the Endromitus asteroid belt soon."

He walked to the wall, pressed a nearly invisible button, and waved his hand. As before with the liquor cabinet, seemingly out of the wall sprang a 3D map of space showing our ship hurtling through the vastness of the universe.

"You see," he said, pointing to a towering cluster of miniature brown stones and boulders, the size of moons or tiny planets. "The Endromitus asteroid belt. It is the only difficult passage between Drixus and Asterion. The captain must be on the bridge to navigate it."

"Which means…what?" I snapped. "That he has time to meet with you and not with me?"

The Asterion blinked. "Yes. That is precisely what it means."

I huffed a breath through my nose. Either he had no idea how condescending he came off, or he didn't care. Or both. Likely both. After all, I was a mere human female .

"Fine," I grumbled. "I'll stay here if I have to. But please let him know something needs to be done to get me back to my ship or I'll—I'll…"

A smirk twisted the alien's thin, beautiful mouth. "You will what?"

"I don't know. Raise cane, or something," I warned, waving my hand in frustration. "Just let him know I won't be happy."

The alien's golden eyes glimmered with humor as he gazed down his nose at me. "Yes. I am sure Captain Osiris cares a great deal for your happiness."

Do you even hear yourself? I started to snap, then stopped. What was the use? Honestly, threats and pouting and fits weren't going to get me anywhere. I was truly at the mercy of the aliens as far as getting back to my ship, my job, my life. I didn't have anything to bargain with. I'd be better off begging and asking nicely. Maybe they'd at least feel sorry for me.

"You're right," I said sweetly, changing my tone, my approach. "You're right about everything. Really, I appreciate you going to the captain for me. I'm sure, between the two of you, you can come up with a solution."

The smirk faded off the Overlord's face. I think he was trying to figure out why I'd changed tactics. He didn't study on it long, because he said, "Yes," in a doubting tone. "Very well, then," he went on, his voice becoming more clipped, business like. "I will dress and go to the captain now. I will have breakfast sent. Likely, it will arrive before I return. Help yourself."

Dressed.

Right.

He wasn't dressed.

For a mortifying instant, I found myself consumed with the desire to watch him as he walked away and towards the center wall panel. Again, with the press of a nearly imperceptible button, he opened a closet that was far deeper than I would have imagined. Okay, I admit it—I did watch. He was long, lean, and toned. Muscles moved beneath his dark silver skin. His long hair gleamed in the soft ship's light, falling to his bare shoulder blades.

Despite the gravity of the situation, and the fact that he really was not a very nice guy, that same wave of longing that had hit me last night slammed me again. It wasn't any kind of attraction to him as a person. The feeling was purely physical, and probably had a lot—a lot —to do with the fact that I hadn't had sex in absolutely forever. And when I had had it? Let's just say, by the end of our marriage, my ex's lovemaking skills, such as they were, clearly weren't being spent on me. I got bare minimum effort. That was it.

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd experienced…pleasure.

Charlie certainly hadn't cared enough to make sure I was satisfied.

Not like this guy would, either, more than likely, my better sense remined me as he, having selected clothing, walked out of his closet and past me. He draped the clothes on the back of a small armchair, and began dressing. He seems like a Charlie-type of lover. Like he's going to get his, then he's done and it's all over.

Maybe he'd be different.

Not likely.

Before I had time to finish the internal argument, the Overlord was slipping on his boots. He walked towards the door, twisting his long hair into a knot, saying, "I will return shortly. Help yourself to the meal when it arrives, but do not pry into my belongings."

I did a doubletake as the door slid closed behind him. What the hell kind of person did he think I was?

What the hell kind of person was I that, even though the idea hadn't occurred to me to begin with, as soon as he said it, as soon as he was gone, that was all I could think about? Prying through his belongings? I didn't dare push my luck too far. Still, as I glanced around, something in the back of the open closet caught my eye. A photo, nearly hidden behind an array of coats. I slipped inside the smaller space to pick it up. Examine it.

Why was he hiding a photo in the closet? That seemed bizarre. A mistress, maybe? Hadn't he said his wife was dead? So why hide his mistress?

I poked my head out, glancing around the bedroom. The outer door remained closed. I heard no footsteps.

The coast is clear.

Satisfied, I ducked back into the Overlord's closet and reached for the picture. It was secured in a heavy silver frame, and I knew at a glance it must be a family portrait from several years ago. Asterions aged wonderfully well, but I could tell Overlord Ellax Pendorgrin was certainly a bit younger. He stood on a balcony of white stone with intricately carved railings. Beside him was an Asterion woman, nearly as tall as him. She was breathtakingly beautiful, in the way Asterion women were beautiful. Slim, willowy, cold, regal. Although her features could have been carved from marble, her stare was hard and lifeless. Why? Was it her—was she the difficult one? Or had years of marriage to him, Overlord Ellax, caused her to harden herself?

I shuddered. Of all people, I knew how the pain of a difficult and unfaithful spouse could harden you into someone you never thought you'd become.

On either side of their parents, were the sons. Like their parents, they were both handsome and arresting, beautiful. Silver skin—a shade or two lighter than their father's—golden eyes, wedge-shaped ears, and the darker silver hair. One's hair was cut far shorter than his father's, in a manner typical for humans rather than Asterions. His brother's was long, like Overlord Ellax's. I didn't know which son was which, but they were both handsome young men. Which one was now dead and which was alive?

The longer I stared at the portrait, the guiltier I felt, knowing what had happened to this family. His wife—gone. One son—gone. The other estranged. And Ellax, the Overlord, either so ashamed of his family or so determined to deny his grief, had hidden their portrait away as if it embarrassed him.

So sad, I thought with a sigh, and replaced it in its hiding spot.

None of my business. I had to get off this ship. I had to get back to my ship. I didn't think I'd do myself any favors trying to plead my cause by appearing a drunken floozy, either. I needed to come off as strong and resilient as I possibly could, given the circumstances.

To that end, I stepped into the Overlord's private bathroom to clean up a bit. I had no change of clothing, and didn't want to risk offending the Overlord by borrowing his without permission, so I took off my blouse and slacks, did my best to shake them free of wrinkles, then put them back on. I used the Overlord's hairbrush and comb to bring my wild, matted hair under control and into a sleek ponytail, cleaned under my armpits, and stepped out of his bathroom in time to see the door opening.

Uh oh.

Inwardly, I braced myself for him to snap at me for borrowing his bathroom.

Instead, the mere sight of his face made my guard go up. He wore the strangest expression. Something between shock, disgust, alarm, and—something else entirely, when his focus slid to me. I froze, bracing for the shouts. The angry words. The vitriol. Was he that mad that I'd dared to trespassed in his private space?

"Is—is everything alright?" I asked quietly, hating myself for the nervous catch in my voice.

"No," he replied, shutting the door behind him. "No, it is not."

He walked fully into the room, not looking at me. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he started pacing.

While I stood there, watching, my nerves now screaming, he walked up and down the length of the room, from his doorway, past the foot of the bed, to the opposite wall with its window that gazed out into the starry heavens, and back.

"Lorelei," he said, "Have you any memories of the proceeding night?"

"The proceeding night?" I echoed stupidly. "You mean, last night?"

"Yes, last night."

"Some. Right up until we started drinking."

"No memories of afterward?"

I scrunched up my face, searching my foggy recollections of the night before. "I sort of remember waking up at some point. Seems like you woke up too. I can't recall what we said or did, though."

"I cannot either."

He was still pacing. Up. Down. Restless. What on earth could he have to say that was so bad it warranted this level of nervousness?

"Well, there seems to be a problem."

"A problem?" I repeated dumbly. My brain was struggling to put everything together. To jump left, right, backwards, forwards, and figure out what he was getting at. For the life of me, I couldn't. We hadn't had sex, right? Surely, I would've known, even if I couldn't remember the actual deed. It couldn't be that. Could it?

"When I went to speak to Captain Osiris," the Overlord said gravely, turning to face me. "He informed me of some rather strange tidings."

"Which were?"

We were soaring among the stars, and the entire universe seemed to hold its breath, hinging on whatever this alien male had to say.

"Captain Osiris claims we came to him last night and asked him to marry us."