The Alien’s Unwanted Bride (Alien Brides #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

TWENTY YEARS AGO

“ T hen Little Red Riding Hood said, ‘What big teeth you have, Grandma,’” her mommy said. “Then it jumped out of the bed and turned into a?—”

Alone with her mother in her bedroom just before time for lights out, little Zora waved her hands. “I know, I know, Mommy,” she said, shaking with excitement, “it was a shadow stalker.”

Sitting beside her on the mattress, her mother grinned and set the picture book on the nightstand. “And how did Little Red Riding Hood save herself from this vicious shadow stalker?”

“In her basket was a puffball,” Zora replied. “She smashed it into the air and the pores killed the stalker.”

Her mother grinned. “Spores. Very good, my Zora.” Her mom leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You are so smart.” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “And speaking of smart, let’s go over the symbols again.”

Zora sighed. “But, Mommy, I know them already. We’ve been doing this for years .”

Mom chuckled and unfolded the page. “You’ve barely been alive for years ,” she replied. “Now what’s the correct order they should be in?”

Zora studied the symbols her mother had drawn. Every time they played this game, it got harder and harder, the emblems more and more detailed and complex. She pointed to the fifth image.

“This one is first and then this one.” She pointed out the correct order and her mother smiled.

“Perfect, Zora. You will be ready when the time comes.”

“Time comes for what?” Zora asked.

“Never you mind,” Mom replied, pulling the blankets up.

Zora snuggled into her covers. “Mommy, will I ever get to see the glowing flowers and magic mushrooms in all the stories you read to me?”

Her mother grinned. “When you’re older, you’ll get the chance to go to my home.”

“Tell me again what it’s like, Mommy,” Zora said as she closed her eyes. Her imagination roamed as she listened to the beautiful description her mother recited: Sentient Ivy that responded to emotions, glowing flowers that knew when you were near, and plants that changed scent if danger approached.

“Now, remember,” her mother said, “these stories and the symbols are our secret. No telling anyone.”

“I remember,” Zora replied, her eyelids drooping. “When I’m all grown up…” Her eyes closed.

Melanie brushed a strand of hair off her daughter’s cheek, dropping her voice to a whisper. “When you’re all grown up, you will have the weight of two worlds on your shoulders, little one. I only hope I’m here to guide you and your sisters through.”