Page 1 of The Alien's Runaway Bride

ONE

Raelee Arison’s fingers traced the cold metal of her favorite racing trophy, a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she once tasted on the track. The polished silver gleamed in the soft light of her bedroom, a stark contrast to the suffocating opulence that surrounded her. Designer clothes worth more than some people’s yearly salaries hung in meticulous rows, a colorful army of fabric that felt more like a uniform than a wardrobe.

She turned to face the full-length mirror, its ornate gold frame a perfect representation of the gilded cage she called home. Raelee’s reflection stared back at her, blue eyes storm-tossed and defiant. She smoothed down her silk blouse, a habit born of years of public scrutiny, then deliberately mussed it up again.

“Screw it,” she muttered, running a hand through her long blonde hair. “It’s not like I’m going to be wearing this again, anyway.”

Thoughts of the upcoming wedding sent a shudder through her body. Raelee closed her eyes, trying to push away the image of herself in a white gown being handed off to a stranger like aprize mare at auction. Her stomach churned, a nauseating mix of anger and fear threatening to overwhelm her.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the reasons she couldn’t go through with this farce. It wasn’t just about her freedom, though that was a big part of it. It was about standing up for herself, about refusing to be a pawn in her father’s political games. It was about living a life that was true to who she was, not who others wanted her to be.

The sudden opening of her bedroom door jolted Raelee from her thoughts. Jack Arison strode in, his presence commanding and unyielding as always. He surveyed the room, his gaze settling on the racing trophy in Raelee’s hands.

“I hope you’re not getting nostalgic,” he said, his tone clipped. “This is about looking forward, not back.”

Raelee’s grip on the trophy tightened. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Looking forward? Funny, it feels an awful lot like being shoved off a cliff.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a telltale sign of his rising frustration. “This alliance with Tharvis is crucial, Raelee. Earth’s future?—“

“Earth’s future, Earth’s future,” Raelee mimicked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve got it memorized, Dad. But what about my future? Or does that not factor into your grand plan?”

“Your future is secure,” Jack countered, his voice rising. From the dresser, he picked up the gaudy alien engagement ring she was supposed to be wearing and slapped it onto her palm. “You’ll be married to the crown prince of an advanced alien civilization. You’ll have power, influence?—“

“But will I have a choice?” Raelee interrupted, her eyes flashing. “Will I have the freedom to be myself, to pursue my own dreams? Or will I just be Earth’s most valuable export?”

The tension in the room was palpable, years of unspoken resentment bubbling to the surface. Jack opened his mouth to retort, but a gentle hand on his arm stopped him.

Melanie Arison had entered silently, her presence a soothing balm to the charged atmosphere. Her simple yet elegant dress and soft updo were a stark contrast to the rigid formality of her husband.

“Jack,” Melanie said softly, “perhaps we should give Raelee some time to herself.”

Jack hesitated, clearly torn between his roles as president and father. But Melanie’s quiet insistence won out, and he left with a final, conflicted glance at his daughter.

As the door closed behind him, Raelee’s shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. Melanie crossed the room and sat beside her on the plush ottoman, close but not quite touching.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Melanie sighed, her voice thick with emotion. “I wish... I wish things could be different.”

Raelee looked at her mother, really looked at her for the first time in years. She saw the fine lines around Melanie’s eyes, the slight tremor in her hands—signs of the toll their life had taken.

“Mom,” Raelee whispered, her voice cracking. “I can’t do this. I can’t be what they want me to be.”

Melanie reached out, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from Raelee’s face. “I know, darling. Believe me, I know.” She took a deep breath. “There are times I wonder what my life might have been if I’d chosen a different path. If I’d had the courage to forge my own way.”

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Raelee felt a surge of love for her mother, mixed with a fierce determination. She wouldn’t let herself be trapped in a life of regrets and what-ifs.

When her mother left the room, she flung the ring still in her hand across the room. She would never wear it.

As night fell, casting long shadows across the room, Raelee paced, energy thrumming through her veins. Her mind racedthrough scenarios, weighing risks and possibilities. She couldn’t stay, that much was clear. But where could she go? How could she disappear when her face was known across the globe?

Her fingers flew across her phone’s screen, tapping out a message to Maya Reynolds: “I need out. Now.”

The response came almost instantly: “On my way. Be ready for Operation Runaway Bride minus the bride part. And the running. More like Sneaky Escape of the Century.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Raelee found herself smiling at Maya’s message. Leave it to her best friend to find humor even now.

Raelee’s heart pounded as she changed into jeans and a hoodie, clothes that felt more like armor than the delicate silks and satins that filled her closet. She threw essentials into a small duffel bag, her movements quick and purposeful. Each item she packed felt like a declaration of independence.

A soft knock at the door made her freeze, but it was only Maya, slipping into the room with a grin that was equal parts excitement and nerves.

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