Page 8 of The Marriage Bargain

An architect. Interesting. I would never have gauged Zyn’s sister-in-law as someone with those sorts of aspirations, but there hadn’t been any detectable teasing in her tone when she gave me that response. It was certainly a surprise to hear. Few human males were able to attend those schools or assume those roles in a world currently being reinvented by the Interstellar Coalition, much less human females. The part of me that oversaw the construction of buildings and edifices, specifically at the Citadel, was curious as to what drew her to this vocation. The realistic side of me, the side that knew my own people would count her worth far more in terms of breeding than designing buildings, realized what a lofty goal she’d set for herself.

Realistically? I didn’t think she could reach it. Not without the assistance of someone with political pull. An Asterion, not a human. Few humans remained that had enough political pull to help her. It didn’t matter how talented she might be or how hard she was willing to work. Asterions hadn’t come to elevate humans; we’d come to re-set the planet, reshape it in the likeness that we desired. Humans had proven, through the devastation of their terrible War, that they couldn’t be trusted to rule themselves or care for their own planet. They needed us to intervene and supervise.

Or such was the thinking of the Coalition. That had been my thinking too, when I first made the decision to come to Earth. Not only was I fleeing my father’s family, but seeking a way to reinvent myself into the Asterion I wanted to be. Not an Asterion bastard, constantly living in the shadow of my father and his family. However, living on Earth for the past several years, working alongside humans like Zyn, had taught me many lessons, including the one that humans were far more resilient than we had originally supposed.

Delle was finishing with the dishes now, and would turn around any moment. I didn’t want to be caught stealing glances at her backside, rounded and firm in her formfitting black pants. A backside my mind couldn’t help envisioning in…well, any number of activities I was certain she would disdain, given her clear dislike of me as an Overlord. I was a little surprised myself at how my gaze kept wandering in her direction, but there was something about the human female that gripped my attention and sent heat spiraling through my core. Every time she moved, shifted her stance, my eyes flitted back to her body. And every time they flitted back to her body my brain channeled thoughts it probably shouldn’t.

She was simply so different from Asterion females. I couldn’t stop myself from visually tracing her curves any more than I couldn’t stop imagining my hands tracing those same curves. There was nothing tall, willowy, or slender about her. She was all breasts and hips and backside and thighs, rounded in valleys and dips that set my skin ablaze.

Divinities help me.

I did my best to make it seem I had been doing anything but noticing the lines of her body when she finished her task and turned to face me.

“What about you?” she asked, her hands meticulously folding her dish towel.

The inquiry caught me off guard. “What about me?” I echoed, stepping aside to place the broom back in its corner.

“Why are you here?” she clarified. I noted a trace of hostility in her cool tone, but at least she was speaking to me. Asking me questions.

“I am here in your home because Zyn invited me,” I replied, but that wasn’t the answer she sought.

“No, why are you here on Earth? Why are you here at the Citadel? Why aren’t you on your own planet? Did you really come here to save our world?”

There was veiled hostility in the way she said, Save our world. She was one of the humans who considered us invaders rather than saviors. I could have chastised her for it. Humans were not permitted to show rebellion against their Overlords. But her boldness intrigued me.

“I am no savior,” I chuckled, leaning against the counter behind me, folding my arms in a stance to match hers. “I came to create a new life for myself.”

“What was wrong with your old one?”

I tilted my head, considering her. Should I tell her? Explain about my life as the bastard son of an Asterion noble? Forever caught in the gloom of my father’s bloodline, while never accepted by his family? Knowing there was no chance of ever being accepted? Knowing that I was the one they were ashamed of, and more than a shame to some. I was outright hated by his wife, as living proof of her husband’s infidelities. His wife’s family were powerful Asterion elites, as well. Even if my father had wished to claim me, elevate me into a position in his house, he could not have done so without angering his wife’s family.

“I did not fit in, I suppose,” I answered slowly, choosing to skip the truth.

I think this surprised her. Given her hints of disdain, she likely thought we were all alike: power hungry, seeking what we could devour and control here on her planet.

Not all of us.

She wanted to design buildings as well as her own life. I wanted to build—both buildings and a new life for me. In that, we were much alike, and I confess it warmed me, drew me to her even more.

She tilted her head now, regarding me skeptically. “How could you not fit in on your own world? Your own planet?” she asked.

“Do you fit in on yours?”

“Touché,” she said with an exasperated chuckle, turning away. “I guess everyone has their issues.”

We did, and one of my mine seemed to be my body’s ridiculous response to this human female. I couldn’t stop my gaze from following her as she walked out of the kitchen and into the living area to begin rounding up her nieces for bed. Couldn’t keep them off her every motion, every movement. Mental scenes flashed of her movements and motions, but in a very dissimilar setting—she and I alone, the lights dim, and no clothing allowed…

I shook my head sharply, questioning my own judgment.

What is the matter with you? She is simply a human female. You’ve seen many.

Perhaps not many, since they weren’t in abundance, but I’d certainly seen them. Though…not any that captured my entire focus, like this one.

Since I knew little of children, I remained aloof while she ushered her nieces into their room. There was nothing for me to do except take a seat in the quiet living area and relax, listening to the sounds of Delle and the girls through the door. Her voice murmuring and hushing and soothing, answering questions, giving directions. There was something strangely attractive even in that. She was clearly a good aunt to my friend’s children. She would make a fine mother.

And if my fellow Asterions got their way, a mother was all she would make.

That thought sent a spike of discomfort into my brain.

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