Page 8 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
Aran’tha’s gaze sharpens, her suspicions swirling around us like a charged storm. “You touched her, didn’t you? You’re bonded.”
I grit my teeth, anger flaring. “It’s a trick. They’re playing with us. Maybe they’ve synthesized the bond. It can’t be real.”
Her expression hardens, disbelief morphing into something more serious. “Zevran, Jalshagar is biological. Unfakeable.”
Fuck. I pace the room again, hands clenched into fists. The anger isn’t aimed at Aran’tha; it burns towards fate itself. Of all the stars in this vast expanse, why a human?
“What do I do with this?” I snarl, frustration echoing in my voice as I run a hand through my hair again. The dark strands slip through my fingers like sand. “This… connection could destroy everything I’ve worked for.”
“Or it could strengthen your position,” she replies coolly, her eyes narrowing as if calculating every angle. “A united front could turn public sentiment in your favor.”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I refuse to let this bond dictate my choices.”
“Then what will you do? Exile her?” She crosses her arms tighter, refusing to back down.
The idea churns in my gut, but even as it surfaces, I know it won’t work. Exiling this human means cutting off any chance of understanding this bond—or worse, leaving her vulnerable to those who would use her against me.
I stop pacing and face Aran’tha directly, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “No exile.” My voice softens yet holds a resolute edge. “She will remain here—as a guest.”
Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Under guard?”
“Of course,” I snap back quickly. “Under scrutiny and within reach.”
Aran’tha studies me for a moment longer before nodding slowly, accepting my decision though I can see the skepticism lingering behind her eyes.
“It’ll raise questions,” she warns.
“Let them ask,” I say fiercely, conviction solidifying my stance as if bolstering the walls of our kingdom itself.
“And what if this bond grows stronger?” she probes.
A knot forms in my chest at the thought of losing control over myself or—worse—my duty to Verus. But deep down lies an ember of something unexpected: curiosity mixed with dread and desire that twists around the idea of this woman.
“I will not fall,” I whisper under my breath, more for myself than for Aran’tha’s ears.
Her brow furrows slightly at my admission but she remains silent.
“I have responsibilities.” My voice hardens once more as I glance out at the endless canopy stretching beneath me—my realm—the place where each leaf has a story and every branch bears witness to centuries of history.
“This bond threatens everything,” I continue slowly as if drawing strength from the very wood surrounding us.
“It also presents opportunity.” Aran’tha’s tone shifts slightly; she leans forward as though drawing closer to an ally rather than a prince whose life is spiraling into chaos. “You know how volatile court politics can be right now; human relations are under scrutiny.”
“Yes,” I concede reluctantly.
“And your status will be bolstered if you handle this correctly.” She gestures toward me with one hand before letting it drop decisively to her side. “Use this situation to turn their suspicion into support.”
“What am I supposed to do? Put on a show? ‘Look at me! I'm bonded with an alien!’” My voice rises dangerously close to breaking as fury swells anew within me—this is no love story; it's fate mocking me from afar.
“You’ll need finesse.” Her eyes bore into mine, unyielding yet steadfast—like roots anchoring deep within sacred soil that cannot be moved by mere storms or whispers from jealous courtiers seeking power.
I nod slowly despite myself; there’s wisdom in her counsel even if it feels like shackles tightening around my heart with each word spoken aloud.
“Make the arrangements. For the time being, she is a guest. No one is to go near her chambers without my express consent,” I finally command after swallowing down another surge of frustration that threatens to explode outwards like wildfire across dry fields.
“Yes, Your Highness.” A flicker of satisfaction crosses Aran’tha's features as she turns toward the door but pauses just before stepping out—a final look back at me that says so much without uttering another word.
With a heavy sigh left unspoken between us—the weight of inevitability pressing down—I stare into the canopy outside once more while gripping the edge of the table hard enough that wood groans beneath my fingers.
