Free Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance by Juniper Leigh

that,” she said, floating around me in a circle. She was submerged up to her chin, but I was only submerged up to my ribcage. I peered curiously down at her as she slithered through the water like a sea snake. “You are under no obligation to answer them, I only wondered—”
    “I was a man of the gods,” I said by way of explanation. “Mating was not terribly high on my list of priorities. Then, when our leader passed, I gave up the Qulari priesthood, and left my people.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. “About your leader, I mean.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Is his death why you left?”
    “Her death,” I corrected. “And yes, in part.” I cocked my arm back and threw the soap gently to land. It plopped to the ground near to where I’d set down the basket. “When we lost Ramari Ro’quare, I lost my path to the gods. My people asked me to step up and lead them when she passed, but I could not.”
    “Why?” she pressed. “Why couldn’t you lead?”
    I scowled and waded toward the shoreline, climbing out of the water, modesty be damned. “Enough of this chatter,” I said, picking up the soap and the basket, and grabbing my pants. “You dry yourself, and I shall make us some breakfast.”
    I left her there, floating in the water, with a stack of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline.

***
    The garments I’d left for her were much too large, and the lady Lore looked somewhat ridiculous trying to hike up the pants enough so that she did not trip over them. She’d tied her hair back with a strand of tall grass and, even in spite of the dark bruise on her forehead, she was looking much fresher.
    “Thank you for the clothes,” she muttered, “but I’m not sure if I will be able to travel in them.
    “Come here,” I said, and she gathered the fabric in her hands and high-stepped over to me. I reached for my hunting knife, which I had left out of its sheath on the work table, and sliced into the red linen of the pants I’d given her. I cut the fabric away in a neat line until the end of both legs hit her mid-calf. I treated the black tunic similarly, but I sliced the sleeves off at the seam so that her shoulders were bared. The intricate beadwork at the neckline went unharmed.
    “Thank you,” she said, then took one of the eviscerated sleeves and tore it in strips lengthwise. One she used to wrap around her waist to keep the tunic largely in place, and the second she used to replace the reed holding her hair back. When she was finished, she looked quite fine. Better than any of the Europax stick insects they’d sent to us.
    “I have some oats and berries for you,” I said, and held out a bowl and spoon for her. She took both with grateful enthusiasm.
    “Thank you,” she said again, undoubtedly spurred by my having scolded her for not employing her manners somewhat sooner. “I really do appreciate your kindness.”
    We began eating, and I delighted to hear her mmm’s that indicated she was enjoying the small meal I’d prepared to break her fast. I ate with less enthusiasm: truth be told, I was sick of oats and fresh berries. I was sick of everything about the routine of my life, and there was a small part of me that was grateful for the disruption that was Lorelei Vauss.
    “We’ll set off for the village presently,” I said, and she nodded her agreement. “Have you any notion as to what your plan of action will be when we arrive?”
    She bounced her delicate shoulders in a shrug, her eyes angled down into her bowl as she toyed absently with what remained of her meal. “I do not know what I should do,” she murmured. For the first time, I could hear the fear in her voice. “I need to find that ship. I need to get people to it before my friends are auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
    “Will they be separated, then?”
    “I believe so. I think the way it works is that the Quarter Moon Slavers invite people to the ship for the auction, and once the