Page 29 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
CARYS
I push deeper into the swampy lowland, boots—clearly meant for fashion and not protection—squelching in the muck.
Each step sends a splatter of murky water up my shins, and I swear at the roots snaking beneath the surface, scratching my legs.
This isn’t exactly how I pictured exploring Verus—more like a scene from some bad horror flick.
“Why can't I just be waterproof too?” I glare at Todd as he hovers just above the surface, his little green sensor eye blinking innocently. “You get to fly around while I’m stuck wading through this nightmare.”
He tilts slightly, his motor whirring as he shifts to avoid a low-hanging vine.
“Oh, look at you! All shiny and dry while I’m practically drowning here.” I gesture wildly with my free hand, cradling my data tablet with the other. “You should be grateful you’re just a glorified tin can. No scrapes or bruises for you!”
Todd buzzes softly, clearly unbothered by my outburst.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t give me that look.” I stomp forward, squishing down into another puddle that almost takes my boot with it. “You’re supposed to be helping me! A real partner would be down here getting dirty with me instead of floating like some arrogant little drone.”
He flutters back a few inches, and I can almost picture him rolling his eye at me. Ugh, great. Now I’m arguing with an appliance.
The forest opens up a bit more ahead—thank the stars—but it’s still dense and disorienting. The air thickens with humidity and the scent of damp earth mixed with something floral and sweet that twists my stomach in knots. The temptation to turn back weighs on me like lead.
“I could really use some food right now,” I grumble as Todd hovers close again, scanning the surroundings with his sampling arm extended.
“Find me something edible!” I urge him as if he can magically summon snacks from thin air.
He zips ahead, darting between the trees and vines as if daring them to trip him up. Great for him—he doesn’t even know what hunger feels like!
As frustration builds inside me like an overboiling pot, all I want is to scream into this alien expanse—just once—and let it echo back my grievances before succumbing to whatever fate lies ahead in this wretched swamp.
I shiver, the cold biting into my skin like a hungry animal. Every drop of moisture seems to cling to me, weighing me down. My boots squelch with each step, and I curse every life choice that led me to this moment.
“This wasn’t part of the damn research grant,” I mutter to myself, glaring at the dripping foliage around me as if it’s somehow responsible for my predicament.
I glance at Todd, who flits uselessly a few feet ahead. His buzzing doesn’t comfort me; it only serves as a reminder of how far off course I’ve drifted. He could’ve scanned for food, helped map the area—anything other than just being a glorified paperweight with wings.
“Thanks for nothing, Todd.” I roll my eyes and press forward through the muck.
The damp air presses in on all sides. My stomach growls angrily, and I stop short, scanning my surroundings with new urgency. Maybe if I can find something to eat, I can think clearly again. “Come on, Carys. You’re a botanist; you know how to identify edible flora.”
After what feels like an eternity of squinting through the murky light filtering down from above, I spot something vibrant nestled against a massive root system—a cluster of small fruits glowing faintly in shades of pink and orange. They hang like Christmas ornaments from a nearby vine.
“Hello, pretty things.” A glimmer of hope flares in my chest as I crouch down for a closer look. They resemble some kind of alien berry—plump and ripe with soft skin that glistens in the dim light.
With caution born from too many horror stories about mysterious plants in alien territories, I pluck one and bring it closer to my face. The scent wafts up—sweet and tangy—and my mouth waters despite the unease gnawing at me.
“Here goes nothing,” I whisper as I take a tentative bite.
The flavor explodes across my tongue—like a blend of passionfruit and honeydew—and warmth floods through me almost instantly. Okay, this might actually work! With renewed determination, I devour another fruit before sinking back against the twisted roots that cradle me like an embrace.
“I’m definitely not making it out of here without getting messy,” I sigh deeply as exhaustion drapes over me like a heavy blanket. The world around me blurs into shadows as my eyelids grow heavier.
As sleep drags me under its spell, images begin to swirl in my mind—of Zevran’s hands gripping my waist, his mouth brushing against mine with that heat that sent sparks down my spine.
His voice echoes softly in the darkness surrounding me: “You’re my Jalshagar.”
A laugh escapes my lips even in sleep—the absurdity of it all mixing with warmth radiating from within. His piercing jade eyes flicker through my mind's eye like stars cutting through blackness—a stark contrast to everything else here.
In this dreamscape, we’re somewhere else entirely—not tangled in roots or lost among alien flora but somewhere safe where laughter flows like water over stones. His touch is firm yet gentle as he tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear—so familiar yet impossibly foreign at once.
“What are you doing here?” he asks with that teasing lilt in his voice that makes everything else fade away—the world outside our bubble ceasing to exist entirely.
“I’m trying to survive,” I say playfully before pulling him closer again. His warmth wraps around me as if chasing away the chill clinging stubbornly to reality.