Page 54 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
The palace glows with amber light, casting a warm hue over everything. I stand at the altar, heart thrumming like a drum in my chest. It’s not a sensation I’m used to—this anxious flutter twisting in my gut—but here I am, gripped by it.
I adjust my formal wear, fingers smoothing over the intricate patterns woven into the fabric. My gaze sweeps across the gathered Kiphians seated in the naturally grown pews, their murmurs creating a buzzing anticipation that fills the air. Each face holds a mix of curiosity and expectation, all eyes drawn toward me. They’re waiting for their king to take his rightful place, to finally claim his future queen.
At the front, my mother—the former Queen—sits regal and composed. A young Kiphian boy stands beside her, fanning her gently as she observes the proceedings with an inscrutable expression. I wonder what thoughts swirl in her mind. Does she see me as ready? Or is there doubt lurking beneath her serene facade?
The music begins—a soft melody that swells and fills the room, urging everyone to rise. Instinctively, I straighten my spine, tension creeping into every muscle as I prepare myself forwhat comes next. All of Verus watches this moment; they are here to witness our bond become something more tangible.
The sound of cascading water reaches my ears, and every breath feels charged with electricity. My heart races as I focus on the entrance where the waterfall parts.
And then she appears.
Carys steps through the shimmering veil of water like a goddess emerging from myth—a radiant vision framed by droplets that catch sunlight like flames dancing across her gown. She glides forward with grace, each step deliberate and mesmerizing.
My throat swells, not allowing a single breath as I meet her gaze.
She’s stunning—regal and glorious, embodying everything I’ve come to cherish about her. The gown hugs her figure perfectly; it shimmers with iridescent colors that seem to shift and change with every move she makes. In this moment, all doubts dissipate; she belongs beside me.
I’m completely in awe as she approaches, every gaze in the room glued to her radiance. The music swells further, carrying us along this current of destiny as Carys nears the altar.
“Zevran.” Her voice cuts through the space between us like silk brushing against skin.
“Carys.” My reply feels small against the backdrop of grandeur surrounding us both.
She stops just before me, those bright amber eyes locking onto mine—intense and searching. In them lies a world of understanding we’ve built together through trials and uncertainty; they spark memories of whispered conversations and unexpected laughter in stolen moments amidst chaos.
I extend my hand toward her—the gesture almost instinctual—and she places hers within mine without hesitation. The bondbetween us hums alive; warmth spreads up my arm as if igniting something deep within my very core.
“I've never seen something so beautiful,” I say softly enough for only her to hear amidst our audience’s fervor.
Her lips curve slightly at my words; there’s strength beneath that softness I admire so fiercely.
I watch as the councilwoman, now sitting in Lord Kaldin's former place, rises to address the assembly. She carries an air of authority, a sharp contrast to Kaldin’s haughty demeanor. Her voice rings out clear and steady.
“Welcome, citizens of Verus, to this momentous occasion,” she begins, sweeping her gaze across the gathered crowd. “Today, we witness a bond not seen since the great King Elvion was united with his Jalshagar. We are blessed to celebrate the crowning of our new Queen.”
The room buzzes with murmurs of approval and awe. I grip Carys's hand tighter, feeling her pulse beneath my fingers. It’s surreal how far we’ve come in these past months. Just a few moons ago, we faced treachery from within our own ranks—Aran’tha’s plots against me and my family felt like shadows lurking just outside the light. We’ve weathered storms together, forged fragile alliances with the Desert Kingdom despite every ounce of doubt threatening to pull us under.
Carys stands tall beside me, her expression shifting between uncertainty and fierce determination. She still struggles to comprehend the bond we share; I can see it in her eyes when she glances away from me during discussions about court politics or traditions. But she’s not fighting it—she accepted this role as my queen despite her reservations. I never thought I’d see that day come.
In some ways, I’m grateful for her skepticism. It pushes me to rethink my own convictions about leadership and power. Carys has a warrior’s spirit hiding beneath that surface—herpassion ignites when she speaks of changes she wishes to implement for our people. It invigorates me; it reminds me that ruling together will not be just about following traditions but also redefining them.
As the councilwoman gestures for everyone to take their seats, I return my focus to the ceremony unfolding before us. The air feels electric, charged with anticipation as we prepare to recite our vows—a pledge not only to each other but also to our kingdom.
“Do you promise to stand united in love and loyalty?” she asks us both.
“I do,” I declare without hesitation, my voice steady as I meet Carys’s gaze head-on.
“I do,” she echoes back, though there’s a slight tremor beneath her words—a flicker of vulnerability that makes my heart race.
With each vow exchanged, I feel energy pulsing between us like a living thing—raw and powerful. It courses through my veins as if destiny itself surges forward, binding us tighter together under watchful eyes filled with hope and fear alike.
The councilwoman raises her arms once more. “By this bond, your union is officially sealed!”
A wave of warmth washes over me as if an unseen force ties us together more firmly than before. In that moment of realization, an impulse surges within me—I sweep Carys into my arms effortlessly.
Cheers erupt around us as we begin our walk down the aisle together. The path stretches out ahead like an uncharted adventure waiting for us beyond this sanctuary of tradition.
Carys looks at me wide-eyed—surprised yet exhilarated—and in that shared glance lies an understanding deeper than any words could convey: We’re no longer just two souls grappling with fate; we are partners in every sense of the word now.
