Page 13 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
Clearing my throat, I sweep into the Kiphian bow, my spine tingling with the effort of control.
“My name is Prince Zevran, great grandson to the revered Prince Elvion of Veras.”
She blinks at me, unimpressed. “Never heard of him. Besides, why bother introducing yourself to a prisoner?”
Her words slice through me, and I feel the heat rise in my cheeks—a rare reaction. How could she not know about Elvion? The stories are legendary among our people, tales that shape our history. But I brush past it; there's no point in lingering on the trivialities of human ignorance.
“I’m not keeping you here as a prisoner,” I say, forcing calm into my voice. “Prisoners stay in cells.”
She pushes herself away from the window and stands tall despite the room’s opulence—a contrast that strikes me anew. Her hands sweep around her, gesturing at the walls draped in silks and adorned with jewels.
“This place might look luxurious,” she snaps, “but it’s still a cage.”
A flicker of annoyance courses through me. “It is far from a cage. You’re?—”
“Right,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I’m being treated like royalty here.” She gestures toward her makeshift bed and the corners filled with nothing but shadows and echoes.
I let out a long sigh, the weight of her words pressing down on my shoulders like an unwelcome shroud.
“What is your name?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Carys,” she replies, her voice steady. The name rolls off her tongue like a melody, somehow both foreign and achingly familiar. It resonates in the air between us—a perfect fit for the fiery spirit I see before me.
I take a moment to observe her fully. Her medium brown skin glows in the filtered light, shoulder-length curls framing her face in a chaotic halo. Those bright amber eyes flicker with determination and defiance, but beneath that fire lies something softer—perhaps vulnerability. The dirt-smudged goggles perched on her head remind me of a gardener lost in aworld of flora; it feels absurdly domestic against the backdrop of our alien landscape.
She crosses her arms, bringing my attention back to her irritation. “You’ve taken everything from me,” she snaps, glancing toward the corner where Todd would be if he hadn’t been captured. “My research gear, my drone—what do you want with them?”
I shrug, unwilling to admit that I hadn’t even considered their value beyond mere equipment. “They were confiscated as a precaution.”
“Precaution?” she scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “You think I’m some kind of spy?”
“No.” The word escapes before I can weigh it carefully. “But humans have a history of exploiting what they don’t understand.”
Her expression shifts from anger to exasperation, and for some reason, it ignites a flicker of amusement within me.
“I’m bored out of my mind,” she says with an exaggerated sigh, pacing like an agitated creature in a cage—a vivid reminder that we are both trapped in this moment.
After a beat filled with unexpected contemplation, I relent. “Fine.” The agreement surprises even me as it slips from my lips. “If you promise your little…Toddisn’t a threat.”
Carys’s eyes widen momentarily before narrowing again in suspicion. “He’s not dangerous,” she insists. “He’s just... jumpy.”
“Then we have an accord.”
An awkward silence envelops us as I step back, unsure how to conclude this strange encounter without further irritation brewing between us.
“Until next time then,” I say stiffly.
“Right.” She nods sharply but doesn't move toward the door.
I linger for just a heartbeat longer before exiting the room, closing the door gently behind me.
What in the worlds am I doing?
CHAPTER 11
CARYS
Iwake to the softness of silk against my skin, the sheets wrapping around me like a gentle embrace. For a fleeting moment, I revel in this luxurious cocoon, imagining myself as a queen surveying her kingdom. The bed is lavish, the kind of comfort I never thought I'd find on an alien world. Sunlight filters through translucent panels, casting dappled patterns on the floor—a reminder of the forest outside.
