Page 39 of Alien Prince (Alien Abductions and Seductions #1)

Chapter Five

Emily

For days now, I’ve been playing the part, pretending I want to be the bride for the alien prince. Smiling when they expect it, nodding when they speak to me in their strange, melodic language, feigning interest in their customs. But it’s all a lie.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anyone’s bride, least of all an arrogant, silver-skinned alien prince who looks at me like I’m an unworthy puzzle he’s been forced to solve.

I grip the edge of the balcony rail, staring out over the palace gardens. Their beauty is undeniable—lush, vibrant foliage in colors I’ve never seen before, glowing softly in the moonlight. But it feels like a gilded cage, just like everything else here.

No one is watching me right now, at least as far as I can tell. The guards patrol the perimeter, but they’ve grown used to my presence. I’m just the Earthling girl who doesn’t belong, trapped in this strange, impossible world.

I glance back toward the hall behind me, holding my breath. Still empty.

This is my chance.

I slip over the rail, the smooth fabric of my dress catching on the ornate carvings as I lower myself into the gardens. My bare feet land softly on the cool grass, and I stay frozen, listening. Nothing.

A sharp exhale escapes my lips as I take my first step, then another, weaving through the winding paths between towering alien plants. The farther I go, the darker it gets, the faint glow of the flowers barely enough to light my way.

I don’t have a plan yet—just a vague hope that if I can find the edge of the palace grounds, maybe I can slip past the guards. Maybe there’s a ship I can stow away on, something to take me far from here, back to Earth.

But as I push deeper into the gardens, the paths start to twist and overlap, each one looking identical to the last. The towering plants grow denser, their glowing blossoms casting eerie shadows that make my pulse quicken.

I’m lost.

I stop, spinning in a slow circle, trying to find the way back to where I started. Everything looks the same—the same twisting vines, the same glowing flowers, the same looming silence pressing down on me.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, panic beginning to bubble in my chest. I should have paid more attention, marked my route somehow. I can’t stay here.

The sound of approaching footsteps freezes me in place, my breath catching in my throat. The soft crunch of boots on the gravel path grows louder, closer.

No.

I crouch behind a wide-leafed plant, the glowing blossoms brushing against my cheek as I press myself into the shadows. My heart pounds so loudly I’m certain they’ll hear it, whoever they are.

“Lost, are we?”

The deep, familiar voice makes my stomach drop. I peek through the leaves, and sure enough, there he is—Kael, the alien prince himself, standing tall and imperious, his silver skin shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Of course, it’s him.

“I could have sworn the palace wasn’t so large as to disorient even an Earthling,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement.

I grit my teeth, stepping out from behind the plant. “I wasn’t lost,” I lie, trying to keep my voice steady.

His lips curl into a faint smirk. “No? Then you’re just wandering the gardens at night for the sheer joy of it?”

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “Maybe I wanted some fresh air. Is that a crime here?”

Kael takes a step closer, his violet eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Not a crime,” he says softly, “but it is… suspicious.”

The way he looks at me sends a shiver down my spine—not with fear but something far more unsettling.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I say, my voice firmer now, though my heart races in my chest.

He studies me for a long moment, his smirk fading into something unreadable. “You should return to the palace,” he says finally. “The gardens can be… dangerous at night.”

I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a challenge, but either way, I know I’ve been caught.

The glowing plants sway in a sudden breeze, their soft light flickering like a warning. I glance up, startled by the sharp shift in the air. The once-clear sky has turned dark, heavy clouds rolling in fast.

“Wonderful,” I mutter under my breath. Now it looks like I’m about to get caught in an alien storm.

“It seems survival is not your strong suit, little Earthling.” His deep voice sends a jolt through my body.

I glower at the alien prince. Kael stands there, impossibly calm and infuriatingly smug, as if he’s been watching me stumble through the garden for hours. Which, knowing him, he probably has.

I plant my hands on my hips, glaring up at him. “I don’t need your commentary, thanks. My survival isn’t in doubt.”

Is it? What if he knows I was trying to leave and that’s a punishable offense? Do they believe in the death penalty?

His violet eyes gleam, the faintest smirk curling his lips. “Wandering aimlessly into the heart of the gardens without a plan is the hallmark of competence.”

“Maybe I like wandering,” I snap, crossing my arms. The sharp edge of his amusement only makes me dig in harder. “Not everything has to be about survival or strategy, you know.”

A low rumble of thunder rolls through the air, cutting off whatever retort he was about to deliver. I glance up again, and my stomach twists as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall.

Kael sighs, his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Come,” he says, gesturing toward a narrow path to the right. “There’s shelter this way.”

For a moment, I hesitate. My instinct is to argue, to tell him I don’t need his help, but another roll of thunder—closer this time—quickly kills that impulse. With a resigned huff, I follow him, the rain quickly turning into a downpour.

By the time we reach the small stone shelter tucked into the side of the garden, I’m soaked to the bone. The fabric of my dress clings to me uncomfortably, and I can feel my hair sticking to my face in damp strands. Kael, of course, looks completely unbothered, as if alien storms don’t have the audacity to drench him.

I squeeze into the narrow space, the walls pressing close on either side. Kael ducks slightly to fit, his presence filling the small shelter in a way that makes it impossible to ignore him.

“You seem unprepared,” he says, his tone almost conversational, though I can hear the teasing undercurrent. “Surely your planet has storms.”

I roll my eyes, wringing out the hem of my dress. “Yes, we have storms. And rain. And smug aliens who think they know everything.”

His lips twitch, and he leans back against the wall, watching me with those intense violet eyes that seem to see far more than I want to reveal.

The shelter feels smaller by the second, his proximity making the air seem heavier. I try to focus on the sound of the rain, the rhythmic patter against the stone, but it’s impossible to ignore him—the warmth of his body just a few inches from mine, the way his gaze lingers on me, unreadable and yet… something.

“You’re staring,” I say.

He tilts his head slightly, his expression almost lazy. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Why does that bother you?” he asks, his tone low, almost a purr.

I open my mouth then close it again, completely at a loss for a reply. His question shouldn’t feel like a challenge, but it does, and the heat rising in my cheeks has nothing to do with the rain or the cramped space.

“I—”

Another crack of thunder interrupts me, louder this time, and I flinch despite myself. Kael’s gaze softens, and I hate how that fleeting kindness twists something deep inside me.

“This storm will pass,” he says quietly, his voice steady and calm. “And when it does, I suggest you reconsider wandering into places you cannot navigate.”

I bristle at his tone, but the way he shifts slightly closer, as if to shield me from the rain’s chill, makes it hard to focus on being annoyed. Instead, I’m acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him, the way his presence seems to fill the space entirely.

The tension between us is palpable, a charged silence that neither of us dares to break. I don’t know what to do with it, this pull I feel toward him despite every instinct telling me to resist.

I glance up at him, and our eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze stealing the breath from my lungs.

And then, just as quickly, he looks away, his expression hardening once more.

“Rest,” he says abruptly, his voice curt. “You’ll need it.”

I press my lips together, biting back the retort that rises to my tongue. Instead, I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, and try not to think about the way his presence seems to set every nerve in my body alight.

This storm can’t end soon enough.

There’s barely enough room for me to sit, let alone lie down. The walls press in on me, damp and cold, and the steady roar of the storm outside is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.

I hug my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. The rain doesn’t just fall. It lashes against the stone like it’s trying to tear it apart. The occasional crack of thunder is so loud it feels like it’s shaking the shelter, and every muscle in my body is wound tight.

Then it happens.

A deafening boom splits the air, louder and sharper than anything I’ve ever heard, accompanied by a flash of light so bright it momentarily fills the cramped space. It’s not thunder. It’s something else, something alien and terrifying.

I shriek, pressing myself back against the wall, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. Memories of being a little girl, hiding under a blanket during thunderstorms, come rushing back, but this isn’t the same. This storm is alive, wild, and completely unlike those on Earth.

In one swift motion, Kael’s beside me, his strong arms wrapping around my shuddering frame. I stiffen, startled by the contact, but his grip is firm and steady, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my dress.

“Emily,” he says softly, his voice calm and low. “It’s just a storm.”

“Just a storm?” I choke out, my voice trembling. “That sounded like the sky was exploding .”

“It’s an energy storm,” he explains, his tone even, as if that’s supposed to make it better. “They’re rare but harmless if you’re sheltered.”

Harmless? My heart is racing, my breath coming in shallow gasps, and all I can think about is how fragile this little stone structure feels compared to the raw power raging outside.

I try to pull away, embarrassed by my reaction, but he doesn’t let go. His hands are firm yet careful, holding me close like he’s anchoring me to reality. “Breathe,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re safe.”

I don’t know why, but the steadiness of his voice breaks through the panic clouding my thoughts. I focus on the warmth of his body, the way his arms seem to shield me from the storm outside, and slowly—so slowly—my breathing starts to even out.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Storms…” I manage, my voice barely a whisper. “They’ve always scared me.”

I expect him to mock me, to point out how ill-prepared I am for a life in his world, but instead, he pulls me closer. His chin rests lightly atop my head, and his grip tightens just enough to feel protective, not restricting.

“This one will pass,” he says, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “I’m here.

I close my eyes, leaning into him despite every part of me that screams I shouldn’t. His warmth is soothing, his presence grounding in a way I don’t want to admit.

Outside, the storm rages on, but for the first time since this whole ordeal began, I feel… safe.

And that might scare me more than the storm ever could.