Page 5 of Alien Knight Steals the Bride

“What are you saying?” Dagan asked with confusion. “What are younotsaying? I’m as concerned as you, but they’re not Lumerian. He’s one of ours. Justice wll be served. Why come out of hiding now?”

“We are loyal to you. I ask out of respect that you do not attempt to interfere in Lumerian business.” Falden’s jaw ticked. Veins stood out in his neck. His cold blue gaze unflinchingly met Dagan’s.

Time dragged as Falden carefully considered his next words. A confession two thousand years in the making. “We went to extreme lengths to hide all Lumerians with royal blood. Even Torrin and Sevron have been kept unaware of their true lineage. They are very young by Lumerian standards and have yet to reach their full potential.”

“You’ve been hiding yourroyalson Caldor and didn’t tell us?” Dagan’s eyes narrowed.

“It was not my decision. Sevron and Torrin are heir apparent to one of twelve royal houses of Lumeria even though they were born on Caldor. The queen was pregnant when Lumeria was attacked. She instructed us to put her into stasis until we could protect her children from our real enemies. The Vilitos are only mercenaries. Someone else was responsible. We were waiting. Watching. Then the queen’s stasis unit began to malfunction, most likely because the chamber was designed to regulate only one life, not three. We were not ready. Sevron and Torrinmustbe found.”

Dagan stared hard at Falden. “So, youdidknow they were brothers. Twins.” He frowned as the deeper implications of who they really were penetrated his anger. “They’re Lumerians. And you knew.”

A muscled ticked in Falden’s jaw as he met his king’s accusation. “Always.”

Dagan took his time answering. His grandfather had warned him that the Lumerians had secrets, but to give them time. They were an honorable people. Their secrets would be safe with the Caldoians should they ever be shared.

Dagan chose his next words carefully. “I wish you had trusted me with this sooner. Whatever your plans, my family has always been ready and willing to help. My grandfather always said Lumeria was our greatest ally. Caldor is your home now. The decision to stay hidden has been yours. But know this; your fight became our fight the day you came to Lumeria seeking refuge, and we protect our own.”

Falden stood tall, a warrior who’d seen too much, done too much in the service of his people. “My thanks, Caldorian,” he bowed ever so slightly. “Your Majesty,” he acknowledged. “We stay hidden and scattered to protect those who would offer us sanctuary.”

Chapter Three

Vilitos Cargo Ship; Space Dock 626

Survival instinctslong buried rushed to the fore as Juliette checked Torrin’s vital signs. He had a very weak pulse. She’d gone to nursing school to save people. Comfort the sick. The dying. Her worst fear was being the cause of someone’s death, the possibility haunting her dreams at night.

The ship couldn’t take much more, shaking with each blast from the pursuing Vilitos. Juliette was relieved the autopilot was engaged and they were slowly pulling away, but she was afraid the ship wouldn’t hold up long enough to get out of range. She had to get them out of there, or they would both die.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, choking back a sob. There was no time for self-pity. Doubt. Recrimination. Their lives hung in the balance.

Eyes swollen, she sniffled, not bothering to wipe away the constant stream of tears as she rolled to her feet with determination. She dragged Torrin’s limp body, one agonizing inch at a time, as fast as she could, to the back of the ship to strap him into the cargo hold as the whole ship tremored from another blast. There was no way she could lift him into one of the chairs. He was huge, and she strained to move his dead weight. “Come on, come on, dammit!”

Alerted by the sound of grating metal, Juliette whipped her head from side to side, scanning for damage. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I think we’re about to be space garbage.”

Torrin moaned.

“Agh! I want out of this damn place!” she yelled in frustration.

Juliette swayed as the small craft rolled to the right. A pleasant, disembodied female voice said something in an unfamiliar language. Maybe the voice was telling them to get out. Maybe telling them to buckle up. She was completely at a loss as to what she was expected to do, but trying anything was better than staying where they were and getting killed.

“Earth. Take us to Earth!” she shouted as she dragged Torrin a few more inches. The creepy reptilian guards were still firing on the craft, the small vessel shaking with every blast. “Maximum speed,” she shouted, feeling slightly hysterical. This wasn’t a movie, or television show. This was real. But what the hell? She’d give it a try. “Maximum warp! Engage!”

The craft shot forward. Juliette didn’t have time to watch. Didn’t have time to celebrate their escape or stop and wonder if the A.I. system understood her language or where she wanted to go. She would have to trust that Torrin knew what he was talking about. Trust the ship. All her skill, all her focus, had to be on saving Torrin.

The ship was gaining speed, but she couldn’t feel anything beyond a constant shudder now, so she stopped trying to strap Torrin down, instead rolling him to his side so she could see where she suspected the worst of his injuries lay. Assess the damage. He panted. Groaned in pain.

A few inches to the right of his spine, between his shoulder blades, was a small wound, blackened and charred around the edges. There was no blood. She gently pulled at the edges, trying to see deeper into the wound. All she could see was blackened flesh, but it didn’t seem too deep. Pulling her hands back, she breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time since her capture, hope blossomed in her heart. “I think we’re going to make it.”

As she watched, the small charred hole in Torrin’s back grew just a fraction. She frowned, stripping the top potion of his suit from his body. What she saw was disturbing to say the least. Deep lacerations and bruises covered nearly every inch of his body, but it was the newest wound that worried her the most. “What the hell?”

Leaning in close to the blackened wound, she smelled deeply. No odor. Burned, charred flesh normally had a distinct smell, as well as other necrotic, dying tissue, but she detected neither. Strange. A cold frisson raced down her spine, wiping out all traces of happiness. She sat back on her heels, her gaze narrowing worriedly. “No blood loss. But the wound is growing?”

Juliette groaned, a low mournful sound as she placed her palms on her forehead, her hands slowly clenching in her hair. “I wish I could contact Earth and ask Doctor Jorvin how to fix an alien gunshot wound? Laser shot? Dammit!” she shouted in frustration.

“Contacting Earth,” said a pleasant, disembodied female voice.

“Oh my god!” Juliette jerked around, startled, instinctively searching up and down even though she knew the voice was coming from the ship’s artificial intelligence, or AI, system. “You speak my language now?”

“I have sufficient language input data to determine operator preference,” said the A.I. system.

---