Not So Little Green Man (Scifi Alien Romance) (Celestial Mates), page 1
Not So Little Green Man
Celestial Mates
Celia Kyle
Erin Tate
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Contents
Not So Little Green Man
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Not So Little Green Man
What’s a big, bad (sometimes green) alien to do when he wants a mate who isn’t motivated by greed? Contact Celestial Mates. After all, their business is romancing the galaxy.
Since she’s creeping up on the age of bearing service, the Earth government wants Jassa to have a baby and then hand it off for a family to raise, but Jassa wants her own family. Which means calling Celestial Mates. One questionnaire, a bit of blood, and a race to get away from the Department of Population, and she’s got her wish—tall, sexy as hell, and occasionally green alien Vroe, the High Warlord of Vialea.
Vroe aches for a mate who doesn’t see him as just a rise in status. He wishes for warmth and affection and goes to Celestial Mates to find… Jassa Marizen. Yet his ideas about mating—Jassa mating him and forever being known as only Vrya—collide with hers. She doesn’t want to lose her past. He wants her to embrace her future.
And then there’s this other woman… She just wants Vroe to herself.
1
Running was definitely not Jassa Marizen’s forte. Sitting. Talking on a comm. Calculating her chance of survival over the next ten minutes—maybe fifteen due to being a crappy runner—was within her day-to-day toolbox.
Running for her life? Not so much.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t give it a try.
She panted, chest heaving, while her lungs fought to bring in more and more air. Her feet pounded on the smooth metal path that lined the hovway. Vehicles raced past, the wind pulling at her long hair and tugging on her clothing. The vortex of spinning air pushed her to and fro, left then right, then left again with each speeding hovcar. It was what came from running—literally—down the middle of the hovway.
Male voices followed her, curses and demands crowding the air and battling with the rushing breeze that overwhelmed her hearing. But she knew they were there.
She was too good of a prospect for them to allow her to escape. Her genetic code…
Jassa swallowed hard and pushed herself to go faster. She had one destination in mind, one chance at freedom, and she wouldn’t be defeated by a simple lack of cardio.
Although, cardio was at the top of her list once she got to her new home.
If she got to her new home.
No. No. She wouldn’t think in terms of “if.” It was all about “when.”
When she got to her new home, she’d work on increasing her stamina. There. Positive thinking would get her through the mess she’d landed in. At least she hoped. Because if she was caught after trying to flee… Yeah, things wouldn’t go well.
Her last and only hope rested in the hands—suckers? tentacles? paws?—of Celestial Mates, an intergalactic mating agency. She wasn’t sure what they looked like, only that they responded to her written application and submission of genetic material.
They’d accepted her. Accepted. They’d even gone so far as to match her with a mate!
Her eyes stung, joy and panic warring within her heart, and she gritted her teeth. She dug deep for more strength, pushing past the first wave of exhaustion that threatened to send her stumbling.
She couldn’t allow the officers catch her—couldn’t allow them to…
“Cease or we will be forced to shoot!” The male’s voice was close—too close.
And he acted as if the worst that could happen to her was getting shot. No, the worst thing she could experience was getting caught. The Department of Population didn’t take kindly to runners. They didn’t like it when citizens sought to avoid their government-sanctioned “duty.”
They hated anyone who ran from DP.
Jassa was most definitely running. She wasn’t ready to do her duty. She’d never be ready. And since she hadn’t found a mate yet, she was about to be forced to submit…
Her throat tightened and she swallowed past the growing lump, hating the surge of emotions that swelled and threatened to overwhelm her. She could break down once she reached the safety of the Celestial Mates’ ship. Not before. Once she stepped foot on their ramp, she’d be out of DP’s reach.
The hovway took a sharp right, and she struggled to stay on the path, soft boots sliding over the smooth ground. She spun and fought to right herself, barely sparing a moment to glance behind her.
The DP officers were too close. Way too close.
A surge of adrenaline suffused her blood, her body’s fight or flight response doubling with that single look. She pushed on, arms and legs pumping, while she picked up speed once more. She wouldn’t be caught. She wouldn’t.
Because if they got her…
There was no sense in panicking over what could happen if DP took her into custody because it wasn’t going to happen. Nope. Not at all.
She wouldn’t be put in cuffs. She wouldn’t be walked down the center of the city’s main hovway in cuffs and paraded around like a trophy. She wouldn’t be strapped to a table, and she wouldn’t be impregnated by a mechanical device.
She wouldn’t endure nine months of pregnancy.
She wouldn’t have her baby ripped from her arms after she gave birth.
None of that was fucking happening because she had a mate. A mate on a distant planet, but a mate nonetheless. She didn’t know what he looked like, his species, or even his name, but it didn’t matter.
Celestial Mates had found her a worthy mate—one fully screened and guaranteed to meet her desires emotionally and physically.
That was all she’d had to hear—er, read.
The digicomm burned a hole in her pocket, a copy of the message on hand just in case she had to show it to someone from the company. She wasn’t leaving anything to chance. She’d get off Earth—away from DP—and no one would stop her.
Well, except DP if they caught her.
The port came into view, the towering structure rising high above the city. The gleaming tower of metal and glass was like a beacon to incoming ships and outgoing travelers.
A beacon for Jassa.
The last hovway between her and salvation remained in the distance, the busy path filled with vehicles racing back and forth. The drivers and passengers didn’t care that she was on the run and needed safe passage. They had their own destinations in mind.
She let her attention flick left and right, eyeing the traffic that zoomed down the busy hovway. She tracked each hovcar and truck, her mind processing variables and probabilities.
She had a chance of making it across the hovway safely.
The officers… not so much.
But they were chasing her and it wasn’t her fault if they followed her into traffic, right? She ignored the guilt that attempted to crawl into her stomach and squeeze her chest. She couldn’t control others—only herself.
And herself was getting across that hovway without injury, dammit.
Eight lanes of traffic. Piece of instacake.
Cake… She was way too hungry to be running this much. Seriously.
Jassa put on one burst of speed and crossed two lanes, freezing in place when a double hovtruck raced past within an inch of her breasts. Okay, reminder, she had to include her boobs in her calculations because she almost lost her chesticles with that one.
She bolted one more forward before halting again, ass getting brushed by a hovcar.
Obviously her butt needed to be added to those friggin’ calculations too. This wouldn’t be happening if DP would just get off her ass already.
Two more across and then one back before she leapt forward three.
She was only one away, one dash from freedom and joy and anything but remaining on Earth and giving birth to a baby she’d never get to hold. Jassa had always wanted children. Children she could keep.
A hard thump was followed by a scream and then the rhythmic sound of something large and heavy rolling across the ground.
She wasn’t going to think it was a person—an officer. She wasn’t.
She wasn’t going to think about the agony-infused cry that immediately came after or the panicked voice that shouted for emergency medassist.
Nope, not at all.
Jassa raced over the last fifteen feet of ground that separated her from the relative safety of the sideway. She ran three feet. Then six. Then ten.
Then something wrenched on her shirt, yanking on the fabric that clung to her abundant curves. “No you don’t.”
She glanced over her shoulder, meeting the furious gaze of a DP officer. His brow was soaked with sweat, the dark exhaust from passing hov vehicles clung to his skin, and rage filled every line of his expression.
“You’re coming back with me, bitch,” he snarled at her, his glare growing darker with each passi
If she went with him, she’d never see daylight again. She’d heard the stories. Piss off a DP officer and never be seen or heard from again. Sure, the woman would do her duty to the government, but then… nothing.
“No.” She snapped out the word and yanked, knowing she only had one point three two five seconds to get out of the hovway before a massive hovtruck…
The moment her foot hit the sideway, she heard the sickening, wet crunch of metal on flesh and bone.
That didn’t mean she would slow, though. The men chasing her weren’t the only DP officers in the area. Just the most recent set to spot her.
Jassa kept up her pace, her hand pressed to the outside of her pocket where the comm lay. She darted through the flowing crowd, ducking when she saw anyone in a uniform and sprinting the moment she passed one. Aliens milled around her, their various colorings drawing her eye, but she pushed her curiosity aside.
She had a shuttle to catch.
She rounded the last corner, pushing herself on and on until her destination was in sight. The Celestial Goruza was docked just as promised, the large ship resting in its berth and waiting for her. The gleaming metal shined in the sun’s few rays, the sprinklings of light able to break past the dark clouds of smoke and smog.
It was big, imposing, threatening, and powerful. The agency said their cargo was the most precious in all the galaxies, and they would always strive to care for each of the mates in their guardianship.
For Jassa, the Celestial Goruza was one thing and one thing only—salvation.
Out of breath and near collapsing, she made it to their berth, stumbling toward the ramp, pushing herself so hard she thought she’d die if she had to run any farther. More yells followed her, more officers demanding she stop—demanding someone else stop her.
But no one listened. Or at least, she didn’t notice anyone attempting to come toward her. Jassa had eyes for one being and one being only—the one with the golden wings, kind eyes, pale skin, and… a single outstretched hand beckoning her to safety.
Not suckers, tentacles, or paws, but a delicate, caring hand.
One she grasped the moment her feet hit the ramp. One she grasped and refused to release until the Celestial Goruza left Earth—and DP—behind.
Then… it was time to learn about her mate.
2
Vroe shielded his eyes from the glare reflecting off of the hull of the Celestial Goruza as it descended toward Vialea. The large ship’s engines created a whirlwind, the air whipping against the trees that lined the barren stretch of ground used for ship landings. Unfortunately, the clearing was far from his dwelling, keeping a great deal of space between him and his arriving mate.
Jassa. He repeated her name in his mind once again. As he had from the moment he received the comm from Celestial Mates.
Jassa Marizen, resident of Earth. She had no birth pair—parents—in her life, and no male occupied her heart. She would be small beside him, her five feet, eight-inch height not much when compared to his six and a half feet. At least, that was what he understood of the human measurement system. He would find out in truth soon.
He leaned against the railing that lined the edge of his dwelling, breathing in the fresh scents of his home and allowing the gentle air to soothe some of his growing tension. He would meet his mate in less than fifteen Earth minutes. Hardly any time at all, and yet it felt like an eternity to Vroe.
Unable to stop himself, he brought his right hand to his chest, to the hidden pocket sewn into his ceremonial rune’a. He hated the constricting fabrics he was forced to wear, but they were thick enough to mask the presence of the small disc that rested over his heart. The one that revealed an image of his mate. Several images, in truth, of her as she worked. She would never have to work again. And of her striding through the hovways—she would never travel alone on foot again.
Vroe would take better care of his female. She would want for nothing and never suffer as long as she lived.
The Goruza finally came to rest with a ground-shaking thud, and a great cloud of sand and dust filled the air as it came to a stop.
And still Vroe remained in place. It was important that he go to Jassa, but these first few moments on Vialea were important as well.
The soft rustle of leaves and vines reached his ears, those immediately followed by low whispers, and he turned his attention to the dwellings around his. Others lingered at the edges of their homes, leaning over the rails much as he did even now. Each attempting to see his Jassa.
His Jassa?
His. Yes, she was his. And not just because Celestial Mates decreed it so. No, it was because the moment she stepped off the Goruza, the clouds drifted above, casting her in a soft shade that made her pale skin appear blue.
Like a female Vian when she entered her…
Vroe’s length went from soft to hard in an instant. He had not even exchanged a word with the human female, but the mere hint of color that made her appear Vian and he was prepared to consummate their mating.
Now he had another reason to be thankful for the thick fabric of his ceremonial rune’a. It would hide his hardness from the other Vians surrounding him. Oh, they were all shielded from view by the great leaves of the hewo tree, but the winds could easily brush them aside.
Vroe’s men surrounded the Goruza, assuming the formation he’d discussed with his most trusted warrior, Ezae. Protect Jassa—the Vrya, mate to Vroe—at all costs, but do not alert her to their strength or deadliness. It was a study of balance and care that Ezae had embraced with both arms and blades.
Protect the Vrya without allowing her to see how desperately she needed their protection. Vroe had proven himself—more than once—to be the rightful ruler of Vialea, but there were still those who tried to wrest the throne from him. He did not want Jassa exposed to such violence yet. Perhaps never if he was lucky.
Vroe was never lucky.
Those clouds that cast a pale blue sheen over her skin drifted on, granting the bright rays of the sun entrance once more. The golden glow set her hair alight, the blonde strands seeming to shine like a flame. He sucked in a harsh breath, unable to believe the gift he’d been given. Jassa was… glorious. And when she threw her head back, her long neck stretched while she laughed. He swore he could hear the tinkling sounds of her joy—despite the long distance.
Another approached her, a male he could not recognize at the great distance, but one who gave her the proper respect owed the Vrya. He immediately knelt and lowered his head, fist over his heart as he saluted Vroe’s mate. Soon the other males near her did the same—warriors promising their swords, blood, and souls to the Vrya.
Jassa shook her head, golden hair whipping back and forth for a moment before one of the Celestial Mates representatives was at her side, the nearly white skin, soft wings, and floating movements telling him more than listening ever could.
Whatever had upset his mate was quickly soothed over by the representative.
The planks beneath Vroe’s feet trembled slightly, the tiniest vibration, but one that could not be attributed to the wind or growth of the hewo tree that cradled the dwelling. He closed his eyes and waited for it to come again, to identify the one who would dare intrude on his time.
The second when it finally came told all.
With a twist of his lips, he mentally sighed and turned his head slightly to meet the other male’s gaze. “Hello, birth brother.”
Teon parted his lips to form a wide, stiff smile while he dropped his gaze to the hewo planked flooring. The thick strips of honed wood had been in place for every Vroe before him and would remain in place for every one after. Hopefully, with the blessing of the gods and Jassa’s agreement, his own young would someday walk across them as a Vroe.
His young as a king—a high warlord—of Vialea.
“Birth brother.” Teon tilted his head in acknowledgment, but not a bow of servitude. Never would the other male do such a thing. To be subservient…
Vroe knew his birth brother would rather perish.
“Your female,” Teon sneered, but only slightly. If he’d done more than curl his lip, they would have come to blows. But Vroe would not go to his mating ceremony with blood on his hands. “Has arrived.”
