The Alien King’s Prey (Royal Aliens 1)

“I can be in a dungeon, or in a castle, it doesn't change who I am. You’re the one who needs a crown to feel special.”

He gave her another one of those glowering looks, the ones which excited her all the way to her core. She realized that she had missed annoying him. It was a pleasure to see his scaled brows draw down over those blue eyes, and know that she was making an impact on him. She didn’t need a castle to feel special, but having the king hanging on her every word, that made her feel incredibly powerful.

“I will show you under one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“You will make an effort to be respectful enough that I don’t feel the need to whip you every two seconds. It is tempting to clear this table of its plates and cutlery, put you across it and make a meal of you.”

“Why don’t you.”

“Because you just came out of a dungeon and I’m still feeling somewhat guilty about that - though you are eroding that sense of guilt faster than is good for you.”

She smiled to herself behind a cup of tea.

“Maybe I’ll have a nap first, and then you can show me all the wonders of your kingly abilities.”

Chapter 21

And so it was done as Iris decreed. Archon was not certain that he was doing anybody any favors by giving into the whims of his human, but there was no doubt that the balance of terrible things in their relationship was very much tilted against his favor.

He wanted her to like him. Archon had never cared if anybody liked him before, and he really did not like the way it made him behave. He had to think about her wishes and needs and then provide for them. It was a lot of work.

At least she was asleep now, clad in a silken gown and lying on the finest of sheets. She looked almost angelic, certainly far more innocent than she really was. He found her ruddy hair very appealing, copper tones over brown. It was as if sun was trying to burst out of her hair, but remained hidden behind that rich, earthy color.

Archon sat back in the chair beside the bed and tried to think if he had ever felt this way before. He had of course mated females before, none so roughly or punitively as he had fucked this scrap of humanity. He had been crueler to her than any other female, and yet he also had far softer feelings for her than anybody in existence.

One of her eyes flicked open. She was suddenly awake, that dark eye glaring at him with a sort of elemental annoyance. It was amazing how quickly she was transformed by the simple act of opening one eye. The angel was gone, replaced by the devil.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“Keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t escape,” Archon replied. She couldn’t know how attached he had gotten to her. She already had far too much power as far as he was concerned - and she had almost none at all.

She sat up and frowned at him. “You could have tied me up if you were worried about that.”

“Ties don’t do much for you,” Archon growled. “You’re a slippery little thing. I don’t trust you out of my sight.”

“And I don't trust you anywhere," she rejoined.

Was it still too soon to thrash her? Probably. He should give her at least twenty four hours out of the dungeon. That’s what a decent king would do - at least, that’s what Archon imagined a decent king would do. He’d never met one.

Fortunately for her, they were interrupted at that point by two old men who had apparently never heard of the universal convention of knocking.

“Sire…”

“Brimsley. Smithers. To what do I owe the honor of both your presences?”

“There’s a council meeting. We apprised you of this last month, but your illustrious highness appears to have forgotten. We are due there within a matter of hours.”

Smithers’ tone was even less deferential than usual. Archon began to wonder if his entire royal cabinet needed to be destroyed and replaced with advisors with less attitude. It had been far too long since he had done anything brutal and terrible, and he was starting to think that was a mistake.

“Fine. We will attend the meeting, and then I have other affairs to attend to.”

“Do they involve addressing the unrest on Mars?”

Archon gave Smithers the kind of look which entities usually got seconds before they were destroyed. Smithers looked back, his wrinkled wattle shaking with the motion of his head as he returned the king’s stare.

“I will leave you to prepare,” Smithers said, beating a hasty retreat.

Archon tugged the bed clothes back from his human.

“Get up, put some bloody clothes on, we’re going to a meeting.”