Page 3 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
I rise from my chair, the weight of their squabbling settling on my shoulders like a shroud. Silence blankets the room as I clear my throat, every eye turning toward me.
“Enough. They plunder what they cannot understand,” I begin, voice steady yet laced with a simmering frustration. “They classify every flower but never ask its name.” I look around the chamber, letting my gaze linger on Kaldin and Elara, their faces flushed with fervor. “You speak of alliances and trade, but have you considered what it means to our land? Our people?”
Murmurs ripple through the nobles, some nodding in agreement while others shift uncomfortably in their seats. They expect me to pander to their fears or fantasies, but I stand firm.
“My soldiers bleed for this kingdom,” I continue, clenching my fists at my sides. “They fight to protect our borders from those who see only wealth in our trees and ruin beneath their feet.” The memories flood back—friends lost in skirmishes that should never have happened. Each name burns in my mind like a brand: Talin, Jarek… soldiers whose dreams lay buried under fallen leaves.
“Do not mistake my refusal to open more territory for cowardice,” I add, meeting Kaldin’s glare with one of my own. “It is an act of protection.”
Kaldin scoffs softly, his expression filled with disdain. Elara’s brows furrow as if she wrestles with understanding.
“Their ships circle like vultures over carrion,” I say, forcing my voice to rise above the rising tide of dissent. “We cannot afford to trust those who would destroy what they don’t know.”
As silence hangs thick again, I sense something shift within me—this feeling of being trapped between duty and desire. How many times must I repeat myself before they grasp the reality we face?
Kaldin opens his mouth again but I shake my head sharply.
“No more discussion,” I declare, turning on my heel before he can respond. My anger surges like wildfire through dry grass; every step echoes louder than the last as I exit the chamber.
Outside the door, cool air greets me, sharp against the heat radiating from my skin. The long hallway stretches before me—walls lined with portraits of ancestors who fought fiercely for Verus’ honor. A reminder that legacy runs deep; yet here I am questioning if it’s worth preserving at all.
My footsteps quicken as I walk away from their noise—my spine burns under pressure; fury seethes within me like molten rock poised to erupt.
I storm down staircases leading into the heart of Verus, where hover platforms drift between levels above me—a city alive and vibrant yet tinged with a sense of dread.
Suddenly, a voice breaks through the haze swirling in my mind.
“Even a prince can’t fight fate.”
I pause mid-step and turn back toward the chamber door where one noble lingers behind—a smirk playing at his lips like a taunt dangling before a hungry beast.
“Fate?” My voice hardens as icy resolve washes over me once more. “Fate is shaped by choices made today.”
The noble shrugs nonchalantly but his eyes betray unease—a flicker beneath bravado that momentarily pierces through layers of indifference.
“I will not yield,” I growl softly enough only for him to hear before pivoting away again.
What do they know of fate? What do they know of sacrifice? As thoughts spiral inside me like wild vines grasping for sunlight amidst darkness, each heartbeat reminds me that duty calls louder than any lingering doubts or whispers from council chambers behind closed doors.
CHAPTER 3
CARYS
The canopy stretches above me like a shimmering tapestry, each leaf dancing in the gentle breeze. Todd zips ahead, his erratic flight path mirroring the excitement that thrums through my veins. I can’t help but grin as he dives and swerves, clearly enthralled by the kaleidoscope of colors surrounding us.
“Careful, Todd! Don’t scare off anything interesting,” I call out, watching him zigzag through the air. The little drone flutters to a stop before a trunk pulsating with bioluminescent fungus, its glow shifting like a heartbeat.
The dumb drone is halfway useless—only a slight improvement from the asshole I named him after. Todd Beckran. My old college boyfriend, who took credit for my final project when he stole it while I was sleeping. I would have graduated top of my class, right on the path to success. Something always seems to get in the way.
“Now this is what I’m talking about,” I murmur to myself, stepping closer to examine the vibrant growths. The bark underneath seems alive, swirling with iridescent patterns that pulse in sync with the fungi. “What do you think? Another addition to the collection?”
Todd hovers just above my shoulder, his sensor eye blinking as if pondering my question. “Yeah, I know you’re not much for scientific analysis,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes at his mechanical antics. “But at least you can scan this beauty while I collect samples.”
I pull out my sampling kit and crouch beside the glowing fungus. As I carefully extract a small portion with sterile tools, I can’t help but admire how it radiates light—like holding a piece of the stars in my hand.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got for me.” I activate my recorder and begin speaking into it.
“Sample one: unidentified luminescent fungus. Specimen exhibits rhythmic pulsation; possible bioluminescent properties may suggest…” My voice trails off as something catches my eye—a flash of movement below.
