Page 31 of Claimed By the Alien Prince

CARYS

I jerk awake with an abruptness that sends my heart racing, an urgent squirming itch on my leg igniting a surge of panic that spirals through my entire body like wildfire.

The sensation feels foreign and unwelcome, a prickly urgency that demands immediate attention.

My pulse quickens, echoing in my ears as I instinctively lift the edge of my robe.

But when my eyes finally catch sight of the source of the itch, a scream rips from my throat.

Leeches. A slimy cluster of them writhes across my skin, their bodies glistening in the muted light. Panic spikes; the cold dampness of the swamp sinks into my bones as I swipe at them, my fingers finding their slick forms, the disgusting texture making me gag.

"Ew! Ah, fuck! Ew, ew!"

I rip them off one by one, flinging them away with disgusted cries. They splatter into the murky water like tiny dark bullets, leaving behind trails of viscous slime that cling to my fingers. I shudder, wiping my hands against the mossy ground, but the sensation lingers.

“Todd!” I yell, heart racing as dread tightens around my chest. “You had one job! You—You're supposed to keep watch!”

The drone hovers nearby, flickering in and out like a faulty bulb.

“Low-power mode activated…” he sputters weakly.

His single green eye dims further, drooping as he swings once, twice—then he falls straight into the water with a tiny splash.

"Todd!" The panic surges again; I leap forward in a frantic attempt to catch him before he plunges beneath the surface. But it’s too late—my fingers graze empty air where he once floated.

I scramble to the edge of the murky pool and plunge my hands into the water, feeling around blindly until I find his glossy surface. The moment I pull him up, dread settles in like lead in my stomach; his once-bright exterior now clings with algae and muck.

“Todd…please,” I whisper as I shake him off furiously—water spraying everywhere in an almost comical display. But he doesn’t respond. No reassuring whirring or playful bounces; just silence. Something must be damaged inside his solar battery.

“No…no!” My voice trembles with frustration and fear as I tap his smooth body frantically. “Come on! Please come back!”

Nothing happens—just an empty gaze from that single green sensor eye staring blankly back at me. My stomach sinks deeper than before; this little guy is more than just a drone to me—he’s been my companion through every challenge on this planet.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” The words spill out without restraint—a bitter cocktail of despair and anger.

I glance around the swampy expanse that seems intent on swallowing me whole: tangled roots stretch out like skeletal fingers reaching for something lost while bioluminescent fungi pulse faintly in colors that dance eerily across surfaces slick with decay.

Every noise feels amplified—the croaking of unseen creatures echoes around me as if mocking my plight while that gnawing thought resurfaces: What if Zevran can’t find me? What if no one comes?

I shove down that worry; no use spiraling into helplessness now. But it claws at me like those leeches had clung to my leg earlier—relentless and insatiable.

With a sigh steeped in resignation, I tuck Todd into my pocket.

I limp forward, each step sending jolts of pain through my ankle, the sharp throb a constant reminder of my reckless escape.

Part of me wants to look back, to see if anyone follows.

Another part fears the answer. I just need to get to a place where I can contact the CRC—where they can come get me and take me home, away from this tangled mess of vines and emotions.

But then there's Zevran.

Mates… it’s nonsense. A myth wrapped in biology. I refuse to believe in it, but I can’t shake the warmth that blooms in my chest when I think of him. The way my skin tingles whenever he gets too close—how his presence hugs me and keeps me warm, confusing and intoxicating.

Yet how could I ever be with him? Not after the last words he hurled at me: "You stupid little human. They'll have your head for this." The memory cuts deep, a bitter reminder of our divide.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head as if that motion can clear my thoughts. Glancing over my shoulder is instinctive now, but the sight that greets me freezes my breath.

Zevran stands there, dismounted from his sleek six-legged steed, tall and imposing among the greenery.

His bronze skin gleams under the filtered light breaking through the canopy above, and those deep green markings twist over his arms and chest like ancient vines entwining a tree.

His long hair flows like dark silk around his shoulders, framing that intense face set in a stoic expression that reveals nothing.

Relief slams into me like a hammer—hard and unforgiving—and I hate myself for feeling it so deeply.

He watches me with those jade eyes that pierce through the shadows, holding an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. There’s no warmth in his gaze; just scrutiny mixed with something unnameable—a flicker of tension crackling between us even from this distance.

The world around us fades into insignificance; it's just him and me in this moment suspended by gravity’s pull yet filled with electric anticipation.

My heart races as conflicting emotions whirl inside me like a tempest: anger at him for his earlier words, longing for his presence despite everything, fear for what will happen next.

Is he here for my heart?

Or did he come for my head?