Page 14 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
ZEVRAN
I watch her laugh, a sound that’s both light and sharp. It pierces through the tension, yet it grates on my nerves.
“Your what?” Carys asks, her amber eyes sparkling with disbelief. “Is that even a real word?”
“Fated mate,” I reply, my voice turning hard as the weight of the truth presses down on me. “Jalshagar.”
"Jag-sha-what?" she repeats, butchering the word.
“Jalshagar,” I say again, forcing the word through clenched teeth. “Fated mates. It means two souls destined to find one another across lifetimes, an unbreakable bond. When you discover your Jalshagar, it’s a sacred thing—a connection that transcends everything.”
I take a step closer, her defiance barely brushing against my resolve.
“Not many experience it. Some go their entire lives without ever knowing their fated mate, while others may never even believe it exists. But those who do… it’s cherished and celebrated among my people.”
The weight of my heritage crashes over me. A beautiful truth tainted by the reality of our circumstances.
“It binds you in ways that cannot be undone. It is more than love; it’s an understanding that flows between you like the very sap of the trees we hold sacred.”
The ache in my chest intensifies, pulling at me with each word I speak.
“It is revered. And now,” I say, forcing the words out despite the turmoil inside me, “it binds us.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as if warding off my revelation. “You’re joking. That’s not real. It’s sci-fi soulmate garbage.”
The mocking tone stings, but I refuse to let it show. “It is real,” I insist, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Every Kiphian knows of it. It’s not something we take lightly.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale.” Her dismissive tone makes me want to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her.
“Fairy tales or not,” I counter, forcing my tone to remain steady, “the bond is unbreakable. Irresistible.”
Her laugh rings out again—taunting, derisive—and I grit my teeth against the urge to respond with anger.
“I don’t think you understand how ridiculous you sound,” she says, tilting her head in defiance. “You think just because you say it’s true, it suddenly becomes fact? That’s ridiculous.”
“You mock what you do not understand.” My words slip out sharper than intended.
“I mock what doesn’t make sense!” She steps closer, challenging me with those fiery eyes of hers. “You can’t just declare someone your ‘fated mate’ and expect them to accept it like a hand-me-down cloak!”
The pulse of heat ignites in my spine again—both from frustration and an undeniable awareness of her presence so close to mine.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” I snap back. “I didn’t ask for this bond! Jalshagar means responsibility—a commitment to protect each other!”
Carys shakes her head as if dismissing everything I say like an errant leaf blown away by the wind. “Or maybe it means you're just scared of admitting you have feelings for a human.”
The accusation hits me like a blow; anger twists in my gut. "Feelings? This isn't about feelings!" My hands clench into fists at my sides.
Her lips curl into a smirk that twists my insides further. "Sure looks like it is."
“It isn’t just passion,” I speak through gritted teeth, desperately searching for clarity in this chaos she’s thrown me into with her fierce defiance.
"It's destiny! Kiphians have lived by this belief for centuries, woven into the very fabric of our existence.
Countless cultures have embraced this truth, passed down through generations as a guiding principle of our lives. "
“Not mine,” she retorts quickly, her voice sharp and unyielding, each word fired off like a bullet aimed directly at my heart, striking with unnerving precision.
Frustration bubbles within me, and I can feel the heat rising in my chest again—her skepticism feels like nails on bark, grating and raw.
"We have different traditions!" I exclaim, the volume of my voice rising involuntarily as I struggle to articulate the depth of my belief.
“You must understand that this bond is not just a whim of fancy; it is a sacred obligation, steeped in the history of my people and the weight of our legacies.”
"I don't care," she shoots back, her tone fierce and unwavering. "You don't get to steal someone’s autonomy, and then try to blame it on some mystical connection!" Her eyes narrow into slits, radiating an intensity that both unsettles and captivates me.
"That's not what this is," I reply, my voice faltering ever so slightly as I grapple with the tangled emotions swelling inside me. There’s a churning conflict between my duty to my people and the undeniable truth of what she represents in my life—a truth I’m still struggling to accept.
Especially when my mate is behaving like an insolent brat.
I stare at her, a whirlwind of emotions clawing at my insides. “What? You really think that I could be mated to an alien like you?” Her laughter rings sharp, slicing through my resolve.
“I’m not all too thrilled about it either,” I snap back, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions roiling within me. “But here we are, entangled in this mess of fate and obligation whether we like it or not.”
“Then just leave me alone. Let me go and forget about it,” she retorts, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, the very picture of stubbornness. The fire in her amber eyes is unmistakable, and it only fuels my irritation further.
“What part of this are you not grasping with your tiny human brain?” I can’t help but let my voice boom in the chamber, echoing off the walls like a thunderclap.
I wrestle with the urge to keep my temper in check; the tension in the air is palpable, and I can feel the walls closing in around us.
“There is no letting go. This is destiny, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically, dismissing my words as if they were the most ridiculous nonsense she had ever encountered.
“Destiny? I’m a woman of science! I don’t believe in made-up ideas like fate and mating.
That’s all fairy tale nonsense,” she declares, her tone laced with indignation, as if she were swatting away an irritating fly.
My glare intensifies, piercing through the layers of sarcasm coating her words like a protective shell. “You feel nothing when I do this?” I challenge, the question hanging in the air like an unspoken dare.
I step closer, closing the distance between us, until the air feels charged with an electric tension.
She can see the muscles in my arms tense, the barely contained power coursing through me.
Before she has the chance to respond, I lean down, driven by a force greater than either of us, and press my lips against hers.
The moment my mouth meets hers, a jolt shoots through me, igniting every nerve ending along my spine, and suddenly all the chaos fades into the background, leaving only the undeniable connection between us.