Page 36 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
ZEVRAN
I ride through the palace gates, Carys cradled in my arms. The familiar hum of the six-legged steed vibrates beneath me, a comforting rhythm against the tension thrumming in my chest. My jaw tightens as I survey the courtyard, eyes darting from one guard to another.
Each face seems masked with intrigue, every whisper a potential threat.
Someone at court wants my mate dead.
The realization gnaws at me, a relentless ache deep in my gut.
I can feel that truth pressing down on us like the dense canopy overhead.
They plot and scheme, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning.
If they succeed in their twisted game, it won’t just mean Carys’s end—it could plunge Verus into chaos and war.
I dismount, careful not to jostle her too much. Her warmth against me feels like a beacon amid the encroaching darkness, a reminder of everything worth fighting for. She stirs slightly as I lower her to the ground, her hair brushing against my arm like silk.
“Easy,” I murmur as she regains her footing. Her amber eyes flash up at me—full of questions, concerns—emotions swirling like leaves caught in a storm.
We step onto a floating platform, its surface shimmering with bioluminescence. As it lifts us into the air, I guide her gently to stand beside me, one hand resting protectively on her back while we ascend through the treetop city.
The view is breathtaking; sprawling canopies stretch endlessly below us, woven with bridges and platforms connecting homes and marketplaces alive with activity. But even this beauty feels tainted by what looms ahead—the shadows lurking within my court.
“Zevran,” she begins hesitantly as we glide upward. “What do you plan to do?”
Her question pulls my focus back to her face—a mix of worry and determination etched there—and it ignites something fierce within me. “I’ll find out who’s behind this.” My voice is steady despite the turmoil roiling inside. “And when I do…”
I can’t finish that thought; the implications weigh heavily on my conscience.
Carys glances down at our surroundings, brows knitting together as if trying to make sense of it all. “What if they’re watching? What if they know that we know?”
“I'll take care of it.” The words spill out more fiercely than intended; I don’t want fear to touch her—not now when we’re so close to safety. “I won’t let anyone harm you.”
The platform hums softly as it rises higher into the treetops, each passing moment intensifying our connection—the air thick with unspoken promises between us. I glance sideways at her; she’s taking in everything—the vibrant colors of our home that seem brighter than ever before.
But even amidst such beauty lies danger—a shadow cast over everything we hold dear.
As we near the palace entrance, guards shift positions along our path—some bowing their heads respectfully while others watch closely for signs of dissent or trouble brewing within their ranks.
I step off first and help Carys down carefully before guiding her inside. The air grows cooler within these walls—charged with secrets whispered through marble corridors lined with ancient trees that have stood witness to countless generations.
“Zevran…” She hesitates again as we move deeper into the palace’s embrace.
“Yes?” My heart races under her gaze; uncertainty flares anew between us—a mix of fear and defiance blending together beautifully.
I can feel Carys’s weariness even before she finds the strength to express it.
Her shoulders droop slightly, and I notice the dullness in her bright amber eyes, a stark contrast to the vibrant world around us, a world that has been both beautiful and treacherous throughout our journey through the tangled wilderness.
“I’m tired,” she admits, her voice barely breaking the stillness between us, so soft that I almost miss it. “Drained. Dehydrated… hungry.” Each word escapes her lips as if it costs her something precious, revealing the toll that the arduous trek has taken on her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I scoop her up into my arms, lifting her effortlessly as if she were as light as a feather.
I cradle her against my chest, feeling the warmth of her body pressing against me—an anchor amidst the tempest of emotions swirling violently within me.
The sensation is intoxicating; I savor it deeply, this intimate connection that pulses between us.
Her breath, warm and rhythmic, stirs against my skin, sending a shiver of protectiveness coursing through my veins.
While I hold her, I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly she fits within my embrace, as if she were always meant to be here, a piece of a puzzle I never knew was missing until now.
The softness of her form contrasts with the hard reality of the world outside, a world filled with shadows and uncertainty, but in this moment, all that matters is her—the strength of my resolve to keep her safe and the undeniable bond that ties us together.
As I stride through the palace halls, every step reverberates with purpose. I scan each face—guard and servant alike—taking note of every flinch, every furtive glance cast our way. Tension thickens with each passing moment; I can feel it coiling around us like a serpent ready to strike.
Someone here knows something. A plot against my mate doesn’t brew unnoticed; whispers ripple through these walls like a disease. My heart pounds as anger wells up within me, but I keep my expression steady. I will protect her.
We pass her old quarters, and Carys shifts slightly in my hold, brow furrowing with confusion. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll stay with me,” I declare, feeling a strange mix of protectiveness and desire for closeness swell inside me as I carry her forward.
“Oh good,” she deadpans, “upgraded to a prettier prison.”
Her sarcasm pierces the tension, but I say nothing in response—my grip on her tightens just slightly as we move further into the depths of the palace.
I lead us past the intricately carved doors adorned with vines and flowers—a tribute to our culture’s bond with nature—before finally stopping at my own chambers. The door swings open silently as if it has been expecting us.