Page 37 of Alien Prince (Alien Abductions and Seductions #1)
Chapter Three
Emily
My legs are trembling so hard I’m not sure how I’m still standing. Standing in the doorway is a figure so tall and imposing it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. He steps forward, his movements smooth and deliberate, like a predator sizing up his prey.
He’s… not human. That much is painfully clear.
His skin is a metallic silver, shimmering faintly under the bright lights of the room. His face is sharp and angular, almost too perfect to be real, but it’s his eyes that catch me, pinning me in place like a butterfly under glass—piercing violet, glowing faintly, as if they hold secrets I’ll never understand.
This must be him. The so-called prince.
My throat tightens, and I take a small step back, my bare feet scuffing against the cold, smooth floor. His presence fills the room, heavy and suffocating, and I can’t shake the overwhelming sensation that I am very, very small compared to him.
“Is this… a dream?” I whisper, my voice shaky and thin. I clutch at the slippery fabric of the strange dress they’ve put me in, desperate for something—anything—to ground me.
He doesn’t answer, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that makes my stomach churn. I don’t know if it’s fear or something else, something I don’t want to name.
I shake my head, trying to force myself to wake up. Any second now, I’ll open my eyes and find myself back in my tiny apartment, the smell of old books and vanilla candles filling the air. Any second now, this towering, impossible alien prince will disappear, and I’ll laugh about how ridiculous this dream was.
But nothing changes. The gilded room is still here. The alien is still here, his sharp features unreadable as he stares at me.
And I don’t think I’m waking up anytime soon.
He steps closer, and I instinctively take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. He’s massive—easily a foot and a half taller than I am, and I’m five foot five—and every inch of him exudes power and authority. His violet eyes narrow slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated, curious, or both.
“You are the one the vessel chose?” His voice is deep and smooth, but there’s a sharp edge to it, like he’s questioning the very idea.
I bristle, my fingers tightening around the slippery fabric of this ridiculous dress. “Excuse me?” I snap, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? Because if it is, you’re terrible at it.”
His silver brows draw together, and I swear I see the corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s fighting back a smirk, but it’s gone so fast I might have imagined it.
“It is not a compliment,” he says flatly, folding his arms across his broad chest. “It is an observation, one I am still processing.”
Processing? Like I’m some kind of equation he needs to solve? My fear is still there, lurking in the background, but his arrogance is grating enough to push it aside. And maybe… maybe that’s why my usual painful shyness hasn’t reared its head yet. I should be shrinking into myself right now, tongue-tied and stammering, but instead, the words keep tumbling out of me, sharp and biting.
And really, what else am I supposed to do? I can’t believe I’m even talking to an alien. Sure, he’s handsome—in a strange, exotic kind of way—but that only makes this more surreal. His skin gleams like molten silver, and his violet eyes seem to glow with an intensity that’s both mesmerizing and unnerving. If I weren’t standing here barefoot in a palace straight out of a sci-fi movie, I might think I’d stumbled into some eccentric billionaire’s mansion.
But this… this has to be a dream, right? A weird, vivid dream brought on by too much late-night reading. Any second now, I’ll wake up in my bed, surrounded by my mismatched furniture and the smell of old books. Any second.
“Well, while you’re processing , maybe you can start by telling me why I’m here and how to get back home,” I say, crossing my arms to mimic his stance.
His eyes flash, the faint glow in them intensifying. “You are here because the vessel deemed you a match,” he says, his tone clipped, “and as for returning home… that is not an option.”
Not an option? My stomach flips, but I refuse to let him see how much his words terrify me. I square my shoulders, trying to channel every ounce of defiance I can muster. “So, what? I’m just supposed to accept that some ancient alien spaceship kidnapped me, plopped me on a shiny planet, and decided I’m supposed to marry you?”
His jaw tightens. “You are to learn our ways, fulfill your role, and—”
“Yeah, no,” I cut him off, crossing my arms over my chest. “If this is some weird intergalactic dating app, I didn’t swipe right.”
He stares at me, and the tension is so thick I can hardly breathe. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curve into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “You are… different,” he says, his voice quieter now.
“Thanks,” I deadpan. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He doesn’t respond, just watches me with those unnervingly bright eyes. The silence stretches, heavy with something I can’t quite name. I don’t know if it’s anger, intrigue, or something else entirely, but whatever it is, it’s electric.
I look away first, my heart still hammering. “Well,” I mutter, “glad we cleared that up.”
“Indeed,” he says softly, and the way his voice brushes over the word sends a shiver down my spine.
Damn him.
I need to find a way to wake up… or to prove this is real. My fingers tremble slightly as I clutch the slippery fabric of my dress. The fabric feels impossibly smooth, almost like liquid against my skin, but with a strange weight to it that I can’t quite explain. It clings to me in all the wrong places, flowing like silk but with an unnatural coolness that makes me shiver. When I brush my fingers over it, it’s slick and seamless, almost as if it’s alive, shifting slightly with my movements.
It’s nothing like the cotton dresses I usually wear or the soft knits I curl up in at home. This is alien—otherworldly—and the way it wraps around me so perfectly, like it was made specifically for me, only heightens my unease.
I glance around the room, hoping for something—anything—that will either snap me out of this bizarre dream or confirm my worst fear.
The walls glimmer faintly, etched with intricate patterns that seem to shimmer and shift when I focus on them too long. Everything is too vivid, too detailed to be a figment of my imagination. Even the air smells different—crisp, metallic, and faintly sweet.
I take a hesitant step toward the nearest wall and press my hand against it. It’s warm, almost alive, like it’s humming beneath my palm. I pull my hand back quickly, my heart pounding. No dream has ever felt this real.
“What are you doing?” the prince asks, his deep voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
“Testing something,” I mutter, refusing to look at him.
My gaze scans the room again, landing on a delicate vase filled with glowing blue flowers. If this is a dream, then breaking something shouldn’t matter, right?
Before I can second-guess myself, I stride toward the vase, wrap my fingers around its smooth, cool surface, and hurl it at the floor.
It shatters into a thousand glittering shards, the sound sharp and deafening in the quiet room. The flowers scatter, their glow dimming as they hit the ground.
I freeze, half-expecting the world to dissolve around me, but nothing happens. No sudden awakening. No shift back to the familiar comfort of my bed.
“You dare destroy an artifact of Erythosian heritage?” His tone is calm, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it.
I whirl around to face him, my chest heaving. “I… I needed to see if this is real.”
His violet eyes narrow, and he steps closer, closing the distance between us in a way that makes my breath hitch. “Do you believe it now?” he asks softly, his voice low and dangerous as he grabs my shoulders.
His touch… I feel him. He’s actually here.
He’s not a figment of my imagination.
I swallow hard, my defiance wavering under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t know what I believe anymore,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
He studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my utter shock, the corners of his mouth tilt upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “You are bold,” he says, almost to himself. “Foolish but bold.”
That seems like an insult, but if he really is an alien prince… I’m at his mercy.
I gulp. “So… this isn’t a dream, is it?” I whisper.
His smile vanishes, replaced by a look of quiet intensity. “No, little Earthling,” he says. “This is very real, and now that you have proven that to yourself, you will need to decide whether you are strong enough to face it.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Strong enough? I’m not even sure I’m awake enough for this, but the way his glowing eyes hold mine, as if daring me to prove him wrong, sends a strange jolt through me. Fear, yes. But something else too.
I straighten my spine, even as my heart pounds. “I guess we’ll find out.”