Her Brutal Alien (Alien Overlords)

“I just took some gym classes. I can vault too. And…”

“Quiet, Margaret,” Tusk says, now very much back in brutal control. “You may sit at my feet. We will eat now, I think.”

"Why do I not get a seat?"

He takes the cushion from the chair and puts it at his feet. “Down,” he orders.

He delights in humiliation. I have no doubt that he is a sadist of some, or more correctly, many kinds. Now that Krush has been unshackled, someone else must become the whipping girl, and I have been his favorite whipping girl from the moment we met.

I settle down on the cushion, finding myself looking at korabi boots and Lyric’s legs. She makes no further argument on my behalf, I notice. She is rather jealous of her mate. I wonder if that is because she does not trust him, on account of all the mutual betrayal and murder. That has to leave a mark on a relationship.

“I think it best if I take my mate and my baby and…”

“Nonsense!” Tusk declares. “This is a new family meal. We will all remain in attendance. The family that eats together, stays together.”

I let out a small laugh. This big, blue, ancient alien is a traditionalist, of that there can be no doubt.

“Something amuse you, Margaret?”

“Of course not,” I reply.

“Good. Sit there and think about what you have done. All that you have done," he says suggestively.

He expects me to feel guilty for things I do not remember, here at his feet, an embarrassed woman. I feel no real shame, and I am not interested in experiencing guilt for an unlikely crime.

I have no chair. I also have no plate. Tusk elects to feed me from his fingers from his own plate, like the pet he claims I am.

"I didn't do anything,” I say between bites of lightly grilled meats delivered by hand.

Meanwhile, the reunion is continuing to unfold.

“He’s so cute,” Lyric is saying with barely veiled jealousy. “Have you decided on his name yet?”

“I've only just met him," Jax replies. "And I've only just had him returned to me after he was stolen from my womb. So. Names haven't been the highest priority.”

“He wasn’t stolen from your womb. He was birthed under emergency circumstances because your mate decided to launch an air strike on the palace just as you went into labor,” Lyric says.

“That was not intentional," Krush growls.

"The timing, or the strike.”

“Honestly? Both. The missile was supposed to have a safety launch protocol. But it hadn't been installed, apparently, when somebody pushed the button by accident.”

Lyric laughs. “So, the fall of your trash palace was due to a mistake, and your capture and the subsequent humiliation of…"

“Enough,” Tusk growls. “The time for petty bickering is over.”

I notice that Rath never addresses Tusk directly unless he absolutely has to. There is definitely some tension between them which runs through all their interactions, or lack thereof.

The baby starts to cry, masterfully making the meal entirely too uncomfortable for anybody to want to continue with. The infant’s hungry rage is far greater than anyone’s desire to tolerate it. The little golden beast managed something everybody besides Tusk was hoping for.

Tusk escorts me from the dining room while Jax attempts to stifle the infant’s screeches with milk.

“They are so very…” I do not know a delicate way to finish that sentence.

“The truly fascinating thing is that Lyric will still want one of them, even though it is essentially a meat siren.”

“I thought you liked babies, having had nine of them."

“I like having fathered respectable offspring. I did not have any hand in raising them when they were at that stage of limited development. I did not speak to most of them until they were adults.”

I look at him in horror and see something akin to amusement in his gaze. Tusk is messing with me. I am shocked. He recently became absolutely convinced that I am a dangerous assassin, and now he is joking about being a terrible father.

I decide I may as well ask the question which has been running around my mind for quite some time now.

"Is Rath your son?”

Tusk’s expression returns to its usual serious mask. "My boys are credits to the korabi empire. Rath is a traitor to every value that comes within a hundred-mile radius.”

I notice that he didn't actually say no. I still don’t know for sure if he is Rath’s father. But I do know that Tusk thinks that family can be constructed at convenience. A baby can be taken and relocated. A son can be disowned while sitting on the throne. And me? How would he regard me if I were to disappoint him?

“It was an interesting evening,” he says. "And the days to come will be absolutely fascinating, I am sure. You have many secrets yet to be unlocked. Get some sleep. Your treatment begins in the morning.”