Page 12 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
You ask too many questions, comes his terse reply.
I scoff and shake my head in disbelief, laughter bubbling up until it catches in my throat.
Okay,I scribble,Answer my question, and I'll answer one of yours.
My amusement fades as quickly as it came—his silence returns like a dark cloud rolling in over bright skies.
And just like that, all energy drains from the room as I stare at that empty space beneath the door where our notes passed moments ago—a void left by his absence.
Nothing comes back.
The stillness feels oppressive now, wrapping around me tighter than any rope ever could. Walls close in with a deafening hum that seems to pulse along with my racing heart—a constant reminder of my captivity. Each second drags out endlessly until they stretch into hours—or so it feels.
Desperation claws at me again; why isn’t he writing? Did I push too hard? The thought stings like frostbite on bare skin—I don’t want to be alone here anymore.
With shaky hands, I grab Oswin’s last note and read it again under slanting light from the window—the words seem to fade and blur together until they lose meaning altogether. The lack of response amplifies an ache deep inside me; what if he really did leave?
I rise, fists clenched, and march to the door.
“Oswin!” I knock, my voice sharp and demanding. “Come on! Don’t leave me hanging.”
Silence swallows my words whole.
I press my forehead against the cool wood, heart racing as uncertainty grips me. Alone again—this time, it feels heavier. The vibrant world outside teems with life while I’m trapped in this gilded cage.
“Ugh!” I shove away from the door, pacing back to the window. I scan the lush canopy beyond, longing for freedom—any sign of movement. Anything to break this suffocating isolation.
CHAPTER 10
ZEVRAN
The warmth of her body lingers in the air, but it does nothing to quell the storm brewing inside me. The Kiphian woman beside me traces her finger up the length of my bicep as she whispers seductive things that I'm not listening to, oblivious to my growing agitation. Her scent—sickly sweet vanilla—grates against my senses, too clean, too polished. I can’t stand it.
I push myself up, the bed's soft moss feeling like a trap beneath me. She calls out to me, scoffing when I ignore her entirely. I've already forgotten her name. My head pounds with frustration as I slip out from under the sheets, anger flaring hotter than before.
Dressing quickly, I wrestle with each article of clothing as if they’re an enemy’s embrace. Every movement reminds me of my spine burning with confusion and anger—the touch that shouldn’t have happened, yet clings to me like smoke.
I storm out into the palace halls, the bioluminescent sconces flickering overhead as if they sense my ire. Each step echoes off the polished walls; where am I going? I don’t care. Just away from this—away from her.
My feet guide me almost instinctively toward her door—the human woman who has upended everything in a heartbeat. I knock hard, not even considering that she might still be asleep.
“Who is it?” Her voice drifts through the wood—delicate, drowsy yet somehow firm.
I hesitate only for a moment before pushing the door open, my heart racing in defiance of reason. There she sits on the ledge of the window, sunlight spilling across her features like a careless painter's brushstroke.
“Oh,” she grumbles, squinting at me. “It’s you.”
A laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it—a rich sound that surprises even me amidst this chaos. “If anyone else spoke to me in such a way,” I say with mock severity, “I would have them beheaded.”
Her brow quirks at my jest as she stretches languidly—a movement both graceful and infuriatingly inviting.
“Lucky for me,” she replies with a teasing lilt, “you don’t seem inclined to murder this evening.”
She leans back against the window frame, exuding confidence that draws an involuntary smile from me despite my irritation. In this momentary reprieve from all else weighing on my shoulders, I realize how desperately I need something more than just distraction—or fleeting company.
I stand there, an awkward silence stretching between us like a taut vine. "I've realized… we haven't been properly introduced."
She doesn't respond.
