Page 6 of You're Not My King!

“Why are there no lizard people here already?” I heard myself asking, more of an uncomfortable mutter than curiosity. I was distracted, watching Sharky juggle and damn near drop his boxes of loot in order to wave at me. Friendly fucker. Maybe going with him wouldn’t be so bad. “This is their planet, right?”

The steward shot me a sideways glance, eyes drifting from my face to my feet and back again, as if he was trying to figure out who the hell gave me the right to speak. This entire species had the tolerance of a wet paper towel, I decided, so my expectations of getting a reply were seriously low.

He surprised me.

“Lee-zurd,” he enunciated, correcting my obviously shit attempt, “are an introverted species. They are social enough with their own kind, but prefer not to mix with others unless completely necessary. They leave goods here to be traded, only returning for collection once all visitors have departed.”

That confirmed my earlier theory. “Well, since the aliens haven’t left, maybe that’s why the escort isn’t here?”

“No,” he said, unimpressed. “Collecting humans is one of those necessary times. They are tardy, and it will be noted.”

Alright then.

The air grew tense and awkward, but thankfully—or regretfully, depending on how I looked at it—it didn’t stay that way for long. As if summoned by the steward’s threat, a big, burly dude and his posse of similar aliens broke through the tree line, panting as if they’d run for miles. I couldn’t help how my mouth dried up and my heart skipped. These guys must be the lizard people I’d heard so much about in the last three hours. I could see the reptilian resemblance in their scaled red skin, the slits they had for noses, the narrow pupils and frilled ears, and, of course, those long, barbed tails. Oh, and fangs. Claws, too, I noticed as they advanced. Fantastic.

They were all very tall, and very, very half-naked, with skimpy, furry ‘panties’ the only things covering their crown jewels. In all honesty, it was more for flourish, it seemed. A way to draw attention but not have everything flapping around in the wind since their bulges—massive bulges—were still pretty much visible.

I’d changed my mind.

Where the hell was that shark dude?

The alien leading the pack—the biggest one, obviously, and not just in bulk—barked something to the steward in a gruff, throaty language I didn’t understand, and, because I hadn’t been punished enough, proceeded to point straight at me. I had no clue what was said, but I knew an ‘I want that one’ when I saw it.

Fuck my life.

Not that my opinion mattered any, but I inspected the guy as he bartered back and forth with the steward. He was kinda scary looking, harsh and seemingly without patience. I mean, he would’ve been absolutely terrifying if his first noticeable feature after the nonhuman appendages hadn’t been the purplish hair that he’d tied into… space buns. I may have gaped a little. It probably would’ve made me chuckle if I weren’t about to be sold into slavery. Pft, who am I kidding? I snorted anyway. My emotions weren’t exactly well regulated, and seeing a fierce warrior alien with a hairdo to rival one of the Spice Girls kinda tickled me. Not that men couldn’t be pretty too, but come on. It was just so ironic.

Too many eyes darted around to face me, and the leader scowled, probably debating whether the sounds coming from my mouth meant I was defective, which… Yeah, buddy, I am, so buy someone else. But instead of being put off as I hoped, he nodded with even more finality, and apparently that was that. Guess he liked the crazies. And why the fuck was I being singled out, anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to be escorting us all? Now wasn’t the time to fantasize that I was some special case, though it did cross my mind briefly, so it left me questioning whether the rules changed to suit their moods.

Or maybe I really was special.

Big dude and his three merry men charged toward me, and I struggled to contain my reactive flinch. He really was a beast, and pissed-off looking to boot, so could I be blamed for nearly shitting my pants? Surprisingly, my obvious nerves made him falter, signaling for his posse to wait while he approached alone. Blood still rushed to my ears as he stopped in front of me, towering over me by at least three feet. I slowly released the breath that had caught in my throat, my gaze climbing from his nippleless chest up to his stony face. He was staring into my soul, head tilted as if trying to uncover my darkest secrets.

Good luck with that.

This close, I could see each intricate swirl of green in his eyes and the little red spikes he had instead of eyebrows, over his collarbones, his ribs and… I didn’t dare glance farther down. He had a carved bow strapped to his back alongside a leather quiver of arrows, the heads shiny-black and jagged, held on with string. The dude was still sizing me up, his gaze unwavering, but I couldn’t blame him since I was doing the same. There was an expression on his face that I couldn’t decipher—concern mixed with curiosity? My skin prickled under the rapt attention, but it was nothing to how my back stiffened as he leaned down and, because this whole situation wasn’t weird enough already, proceeded to sniff me.

He fucking sniffed me.

I waved my hands in his face, batting him away. “Whoa, I don’t think so, buddy. I’m not a fucking flower.”

He huffed at my reaction, and though no smile accompanied the noise, I could tell he was amused. “Title?”

I blinked, wondering—not for the first time since getting here—if the new atmosphere was making me high. “Huh?”

The alien frowned as if conjuring a memory, before shaking his head. “Name?” he clarified, and after a quick internal chant of oh my God, he speaks English, I answered him.

“Reuben.”

“Roo-bin,” he parroted, rolling it over his tongue a few times as if tasting each syllable. Once he had it almost perfect, he placed a hand on his broad chest and added, “I, Zaay-el. You come with us. New home. No harm to you.”

“Huh?” Why was it only me? I looked to the steward for help, and he sighed skyward.

“Congratulations,” he drawled, “you have a new owner. All transactions are non-refundable.”

“But… I thought?—”

“Count your blessings. Unlike your comrades, you get to skip the bidding process. It is a two-day hike to reach the farthest clan. Or so I’m told.”

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