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Book online «Enticed by the Alien Warrior Hope Hart (the giving tree read aloud .TXT) 📖». Author Hope Hart



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past revolution, many of my most trusted guards have been killed, one by one, leaving me with an increasingly sparse group of those I can trust. Someone wants my throne. And they are getting impatient.

“I want to visit his family.”

Bevix nods. “I will make arrangements.”

How will I face Heril’s mate, Caris? How will I face his parents, knowing it is my fault he is lying here, killed by someone he trusted? By someone I trusted.

Korzyn slaps his hand on my shoulder. “We will find who did this,” he murmurs. “And we will make them pay.”

I nod, feeling as if I am in a daze as I make my way to my throne room. I have a meeting with my advisers, who are debating the merits of creating potential trade agreements with some of the barbarian Braxian tribes from across the water. My spies are currently closely watching the tribes’ qatais, judging how likely they would be to honor any potential alliances.

“Arix,” my uncle booms as I walk into the empty room. Behind me, I can practically hear Korzyn grinding his teeth. My commander is convinced that Tridi is responsible for these attacks. As I have no heirs, my uncle would be the next in line for my throne.

However, even with all Korzyn’s spies and his constant, continual monitoring of Tridi, he has never been able to provide any evidence that the other male is responsible for my parents’ murders.

Each time I see my uncle, I fight the urge to order him to leave my court. Not just because the chance he is betraying me is high but because his face is so close to my father’s that my gut sometimes twists when I look at him. My father would have those lines beside his eyes now. Would likely have the beginnings of gray in his hair.

“Tridi.” I take my throne, watching as his eyes flare at the sight.

“What’s this I hear about human females staying as your guests?”

I raise one eyebrow. I have no obligation to explain myself to Tridi, but since he’s a council member, it’s often best to placate him.

“They wish to use contacts within the marketplace to fix their ship.”

Bevix is leaning against one of the walls, and his eyes widen. The male has long been fascinated with the idea of traveling between planets, and I have no doubt he will want to speak with the human females.

I bite down the urge to warn him that while he may speak to Sarissa, Vivian is off-limits. No. Even if she does take me up on my offer, I don’t become possessive of females. My focus is entirely on ruling my kingdom and avenging my parents’ deaths.

I glance at Korzyn, and he nods. Just as my enemies have spies in this court, I do. Just as they are getting closer to taking my throne, I am getting closer to discovering exactly who they are.

And when I find out who is responsible for so much death…

They will pay.

Vivian

I crunch down on a nut as Sarissa and I wander through the marketplace. Since we’re not strolling around with Arix this time, the people here barely pay us any attention. We’ve convinced the guards to follow us at a distance, and we’re squeezing through the crowded space, occasionally elbowing each other as we notice something that grabs our attention.

And almost everything grabs our attention.

The kradis are three-sided, and vendors—both from Agron and across the galaxy—are displaying their wares and negotiating with buyers. The air vibrates with the sounds of laughing, haggling, and so many languages that the translator in my ear is likely working harder than it ever has.

A man with hooves clomps toward a vendor selling jewelry, and I fight not to stare as he scans the display. Beside me, Sarissa is tense, one hand buried in her dress, likely clutching the handle of her knife. Her other hand is wrapped around the broken piece of the thruster. While we have a lead on someone who can replace it for us, there’s no harm in seeing if any of the other vendors here can get the job done more quickly.

“You know what I was thinking?” I ask, and she glances at me before quickly returning her attention to the crowd surrounding us.

“What?”

“This is the most time we’ve spent together in years.”

She smiles. “Yeah. I’m always out of the country for work. And when I’m home, you’re posing on a beach somewhere.”

I flinch at that, and of course she notices. “I’m not being bitchy, V. You’re one of the hardest-working people I know.”

I smile, but it feels fake on my face. While I don’t know exactly what Sarissa does, she’s constantly traveling. Either way, she’s helping to keep our country safe, while I’m helping brands sell their bikinis.

“Step right up, hit the target, and win a prize.”

I blink at that, and we both turn to a small stall. “What is this, a carnival?” I ask.

This kradi is larger than most, and at the end, opposite us, a target has been set up. It’s small and seems to be hanging rather precariously in place.

Along the front of the stall, a crowd is beginning to gather, a man with light-purple skin picking up a small wrapped bag.

He growls as he hefts it in his hand. “This has been weighted.”

The vendor, a Braxian woman, smiles at him. “The challenge is what makes the win worth it.”

Sarissa nudges me. “Go on, use your superpower to win us a prize.”

I roll my eyes. My “superpower” is a party trick I used to pull out to impress guys I liked, usually while playing darts after a few drinks. I can’t catch a ball to save my life, but I have an unerring ability to hit almost everything I aim at. I was pretty good with a crossbow during our battle with the Dokhalls, but I really shine when it comes to throwing things.

“What do we get if we win?”

Sarissa frowns at me. “The knowledge that we

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