The Royal Mate (Space Wars)

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 April Zyon

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-917-8

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Jessica Ruth

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To everyone at Evernight, thank you for letting me continue to be part of this family.

  To Rhonda B, you kind lady are a rockstar!!

  To Avril S, I love you bunches and would be lost without you!

  THE ROYAL MATE

  Space Wars, 6

  April Zyon

  Copyright © 2016

  Prologue

  She looked at her mother and frowned. She couldn’t have heard the woman correctly. Paisley wasn’t a militant; she wasn’t a protector. For the love of all the saints, she was a teacher for young children.

  The marshal sighed. “Because you are about the one and only person that I will trust to be around him right now, and since you know where the safe house is I will leave you to take him. It’s too dangerous right now for him to remain on his ship with Fintan.”

  “Wait, you mean, The General?” There was awe in Paisley’s voice and she knew it, but she had seen what the man had gone through for his mate. He was the only reason that Paisley believed in love once more. It was the reason why, with her mother’s help, she’d broken the arranged marriage and had begun to live for herself and not for what she should do.

  “He’ll be arriving soon with several guards. You are all going to the bunker. The guards will take the outer shelter, and you and Markus will take the inner sanctuary.”

  The inner sanctuary was a place that none could enter if they weren’t of the Ralston family. It literally took living blood and a tie to the blood and heartbeat of a Ralston to keep the air on in that sanctuary. It would be either a haven or a tomb depending on if people knew it or not.

  “And what about you, Mother? You’ve kept a low profile while they sorted out the issues that were evidently in your offices.”

  “This is very true and it’s past time for me to get back to what it is that I do. Besides, this way I know that you will be safe as will Markus.”

  “You could always go into the shelter with him instead of me,” Paisley pointed out.

  “No, because they would use you to get to me. You are my one weakness, Paisley.”

  Paisley moved to give her mother a hug. “There are not many that know of me, Mother. You’d probably be safe, you know, and so would I.”

  “No, there is too much to be done.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Paisley. This is an order. You are to keep him safe.”

  Paisley bowed her head and nodded. “As you say. Just remember I don’t know how to fight.”

  “You don’t, but he does.” Her mother gave her another hug, then pushed her toward where the family bunker was. It was something that no one and nothing could get into. Even if the world exploded, the bunker would eject into space and hook up with a waiting ship that would become their own private spaceship. The shelter had been designed with the ultimate of protections in mind. Her great-grandfather had designed it, and it had kept her mother safe when this war had begun to truly heat up as it had in the last several months.

  “I trust you,” Paisley told her mother. She took a deep breath and smiled. “I’ll go pack.”

  “Your things are already down there. I had my assistant go to your home and empty your closets and drawers, and I personally put everything into the bunker. It’s fully stocked with food for as long as you might need to be in there as well as the machines to recreate foods if you wanted or needed it. I doubt that much time will be needed, but just in case.”

  “A career military man,” Paisley mused. “And how does he feel about having to hide?” she asked with a knowing grin. She knew the type.

  “About like what you think he’s feeling,” the marshal stated with a laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Fin had to tranquilize him to bring him in. Now, go.”

  And just like that Paisley was summarily assigned a duty that she had no business taking care of. She wasn’t a fighter and never had been. She was soft, short, and more than a little pudgy. Paisley was not anything that anyone really would ever look a second time at.

  Chapter One

  “No, not happening.”

  His commanding officer gave him a look that would have made Markus squirm when he’d first stepped on board the cruiser. Now it only had him digging his heels in further. “You know it’s not even an option, Markus. For your safety, and for the future of both our races, we need to make sure you remain alive until the general public is made aware of everything.”

  He hated when Fintan Daykin made complete sense. The man already thought too highly of his logic for his own good.

  Yes, Markus was important, but to his thinking, he was no more important than any other Craegin—or Imarian, if he wanted to get technical. He was, after all, a byproduct from both races, although the Imarian in his blood was definitely diluted.

  Growling under his breath about his stubborn commander, Markus shoved a hand through his short, dark mahogany hair and paced around the office. Fintan held his tongue for once, a blessing and a curse all at the same time.

  Markus wouldn’t be in this situation where he was being ordered by not only Fintan but by the marshal of the Craegin people to go into hiding for his safety if not for a wedding most Craegin and Imarian people did not know occurred.

  If not for the fact the entire crew aboard the cruiser he was currently on would also be in danger, he wouldn’t even consider leaving. But he could not willingly and knowingly put others in danger because he was stubborn. Yes, he was stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. And while it grated severely on his nerves to admit it, Fintan and the marshal were correct. Not only were there factions on the Craegin home world who wanted him dead and buried where no one could dig him up, but there was the entire ruling body of Imara to take into account. They likely had spies in place on his home world and moon outposts, hoping to get a shot at him.

  Markus stopped near the vid monitor in Fintan’s office, which showed the view from space of the outpost planet they were currently orbiting. Most folks down there didn’t have a clue about the ticking time bomb floating in space above their heads. Fallout from the wars that were fought from the ships in space sometimes pelted down on the planets below. Never had he hated knowing about his heritage more than he did right then.

  “Fine, I’ll go. But I don’t need a watcher. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You and I both know that. And it’ll be much easier to deal with anyone that may get wind of my location if I am alone. Having someone either interfering or uselessly getting in the way will only get me killed.”

  “It’s not my call, and it’s definitely not yours. You will have a watcher, but I’ve been assured by the marshal that this individual will follow your orders to the letter unless they are a direct threat to your own life. I cannot, nor would I, change that.” Fintan pushed up from his chair to come stand by his side. “I know that your heritage weighs heavily on you. I wish I could carry the burden with you, my friend. But I will do whatever is necessary to keep you alive. Once the general public of Craegin and Imara know about you, and your line
age, then you can step from the shadows and into the light.”

  Snorting at his words, Markus shot a look to the other man. “That was rather poetic, Fin. Love has changed you more than even I realized. Although I don’t know if this new streak you are showing is for the better.”

  “Shut up,” Fin muttered.

  Amusement coursed through him for a moment. He knew Fintan was doing it on purpose, and that made Markus appreciate the man’s friendship all the more. But the knowledge that he, Markus Rothschild, was the only living heir to the crowns of both Craegin and Imara…

  The reason he was the only living heir was tragic, according to many. His parents had both been killed while on a tramp headed for a fundraiser event on a Craegin moon base. They and nine others including the pilots died instantly. Markus had not been with them like he normally would have, because he’d come down with a cold and had been too ill to travel.

  The official report was a rogue micro-meteor shower had compromised the tramp’s hull. While it had been a cold comfort to him at only ten summers old at the time, he had at least known the reason why they would never be coming home again. There had been closure. Now that he knew about his lineage he had to wonder if perhaps someone had taken them out. But that didn’t really work, either, because he was still alive. Why kill his parents but leave him breathing?

  It was only one of many questions that haunted him since he had been told he was descended from royalty. The royalty, if he wanted to get technical. Shaking his head mentally to get back on topic, he turned to face Fintan. “Basically, you are telling me I’m stuck with the marshal’s chosen watcher.”

  Fin nodded. “Whoever it is will probably be nothing more than a large, silent shadow that lurks in the background while you try to keep from going insane with boredom.”

  Right, there was that issue, too. “What exactly am I supposed to do during this unwanted hiatus? I don’t mind the idea of a little downtime to relax and rest, but being stuck somewhere indefinitely is less appealing.”

  “I’m sure we can find something for you to do. You might even be able to finish all those reports I know you have been ignoring.”

  Markus plastered on his best innocent face and blinked at his commanding officer. “Reports? Whatever do you mean, General? I always do my reports promptly.”

  Fintan’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead at that bold-faced lie. “Right. Do them all up. Wherever you are going will likely have the capability of secure transmissions, so you can send them all back here and I will sign off on them before submitting them. Sadie can make sure there are no electronic tags on any of those files that could potentially lead back to your location.”

  Sadie, Colonel Bracken Kauller’s wife and family friend to the Daykins, was a genius with anything electronic. Her doctorate in AI and destroyer programming spoke for itself, but her skills were known across the quadrants even if people did not know her name. “I’ll make sure all the reports are completed. I make no promises on when I will get them done, though. It will depend on wherever you and the marshal are planning to stash me and this watcher you are saddling me with. My first priority will be security since that is why I am leaving the safety of a Craegin destroyer.”

  “You cannot guilt me, Markus. I do this not only for your own good but for the good of two races. All of the Craegins and Imarians need you.”

  “No, you’re right.” Damn but he felt like a kid being chastised right then. “I’m sorry. This situation is not our making, but it is our responsibility to see it righted. You and the marshal believe this is the best course to take, so I’ll bow to your wishes and let you handle it. But swear to me one thing, Fintan.”

  “What is it?”

  “Be expedient handling all this. Be careful, but do not dally. I’ve never been one to sit idly by while my friends take the risks pointed toward me.” Markus had always preferred to face whatever came at him head-on, which made having to step aside and allow others to handle things grate on his nerves.

  “I’ll do all I can to make sure we all come out of this alive and in a better position. Now go pack your bag and get your reports. The tramp will be here soon to take you to the cargo vessel that will shuttle you to your destination. I know it will not be the most comfortable ride, but no one would ever expect it.”

  A few more words were exchanged before Markus left Fintan to his own duties. Heading to his quarters, he mulled everything over yet again. Before he ever got near the symbolic throne he was to take, he was going to drive himself crazy. And that did not even take into account whatever nightmare of a watcher he was being saddled with. He was definitely not looking forward to meeting whoever it might be.

  Chapter Two

  Paisley marched back and forth in front of the door that hid her from her mother’s offices. From there they would take a hidden tunnel that would lead to another hidden area that would then lead them to the tramp that would take them via underground tunnels to her family’s hidden shelter. It was a long trip with many loops and turns. It would be just her and this Markus man—the royal heir—along the way. Her mother’s guards that were going to be on the outer rim of the panic rooms had become ill and with as suspicious as it had been, and the length of time it would take new guards to be vetted, they decided no guards.

  Granted because of this shift her mother had filled the tramp with enough weapons to start their own war, if Paisley knew how to use one, that was.

  She paced in the darkness and paused when the silence was broken. She heard her mother’s voice coming closer. When the door opened, Paisley was shocked to see a huge man standing behind her mother. He was gorgeous.

  Her mouth was suddenly dry and when she went to swallow she coughed. The reflexive action had her eyes watering. “Holy smokes,” was all she said, her gaze on the man, who’d moved to stand beside her mom. “Hi?” Okay, she was smarter than this.

  He grinned, and her mother shook her head slightly before turning to look up at the man. “Lieutenant Colonel Markus Rothschild, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Paisley Ralston. Paisley here will be showing you to the location of the bunker where you’ll be staying. There are supplies and everything you could want down there even if this goes longer than expected, Colonel. Try not to kill each other.”

  Confusion was the first emotion to roll over his face, then a dawning realization, before a mask fell down. She knew that mask. Her mother had one she used when dealing with politicians or speaking to the media. “This was definitely not what the general told me.”

  The marshal hid a smirk behind her hand while scratching what Paisley knew to be a nonexistent itch on her nose. “No, I’m quite sure that Fintan left out all the details. He was highly amused by my plan to keep you tucked away safe, and we both know he has a twisted sense of humor when he decides to show it.”

  “To say the least, Marshal.” Paisley was pretty sure he muttered something about keelhauling the general but she might have been mistaken since her Old Craegin was a little rusty.

  “Well, good luck,” her mother said cheerfully. “Paisley, do close your mouth, dear. No one needs to see your tonsils.”

  Paisley waited until her mother’s back was turned and stuck her tongue out. Childish, she knew, but for the love of all that was holy why and how did she get stuck with this man who was so beautiful it made her teeth ache?

  “That’s impolite dear. Oh, and make sure that he understands why he needs to keep you alive as well?” her mother called over her shoulder after practically shoving Markus into the small room with Paisley.

  She noticed just how hard all over Markus Rothschild was when his arms automatically wrapped around her body. “Uhm. Hold on?” she said, then pressed her forehead to his chest when she felt the bottom give way under them and the trip to their pseudo-home for the next while began.

  It wasn’t until they made it to the tramp that she let go of him and spoke. “There were supposed to be guards on the outer layers of the panic housing but they suspiciously bec
ame ill. Because of that, Mother added more weapons, food, medical supplies and so on to the facility we will be staying at,” she said as they got on board. She slid into the pilot’s seat. “Thankfully this thing has autopilot, because I can’t fly. I also can’t shoot. You should know that now. I’m…” She felt her face heating. Gosh bless it, why? “I’m a teacher for the young, ages two to five. I don’t do war, much to my mother’s horror.”

  Settling into the co-pilot’s seat to her right, he gave her a look. “Don’t apologize for not participating in the war or anything to do with it. You have a much more important position than all the military combined. You are helping to mold and to instruct our most precious assets, our young. They are lucky to have someone who has no such ties. I pray this war is finally done with so not a one ever has to put on a uniform before they are old enough to make the decision themselves. No child should ever have to learn how to field strip a weapon or kill another being before puberty.”

  She looked at him in horror and found herself reaching out. Her hand closed over his and she gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant Colonel, no one should ever have that life. No one should ever have to hide, either, but here we are. At least the travel to the protective facility won’t take long,” she continued. “Once we’re inside, I will tell you a few secrets, ones I don’t dare voice aloud here or my mother might hear them,” she teased him, well, tried to tease him, as she fired up the engines and put in the coordinates for their destination.

  “You don’t need to apologize to me for anything. I may not have chosen this life had I had the option, but I’ve done well for myself. Unlike many, I didn’t have parents to argue against me going into the academy at an early age. While they were alive, they kept me out because I was their only son, but without them around the choice fell to the state. Since I was healthy and a male, the natural choice was the academy.” He gave a shrug and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did well and made something of myself. My parents may not have chosen it for me, but I think they would be proud. Or I hope they would be.”