Page 24 of The Alien's Runaway Bride

“Garek, I’m not going to leave if her people can’t guarantee her safety.”

“We’ve been in contact with the presidential security team. The Secret Service has been outside the cabin for about an houralong with some of our team, which they don’t know about. She’s protected and will be until she’s on Tharvis.”

“Tell them to stay back and out of sight. Just protect her but don’t disturb her. She’ll go back on her own in the next few hours. They don’t need to harass her.”

“I’ll let them know. Call me when you’re ready to be picked up. I’m nearby.” Of course, he was nearby. Vex wouldn’t have expected anything less from his best man.

The call ended, leaving Vexor alone with the weight of his decision. He stood there for a long moment staring up at the star-filled sky, wishing for a solution that didn’t involve breaking his own heart.

When he finally returned to the cabin, Vexor found Raelee had dozed off on the couch. The firelight danced across her face, softening her features. She looked so peaceful, so untroubled. Vexor’s chest ached with the knowledge of what he had to do.

He knelt beside her, drinking in the sight of her. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch featherlight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to fall in love with you.”

The admission, spoken aloud for the first time, hit him like a physical blow. He loved her. And because he loved her, he had to leave.

As dawn broke, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Vexor gathered his few belongings. Each item he packed felt like another betrayal. He scribbled a note, his usually elegant handwriting shaky and rushed:

“Raelee, I’m sorry for leaving like this. Know that you’re safe now. I wish I could explain everything, but some secrets are better left untold…for now. Remember these days we’ve shared. They’ve meant more to me than you could ever know.

Vex”

He placed the note on the kitchen counter, weighing it down with the peanut butter jar—their almost-dinner from the night before. It seemed a fitting metaphor for their time together: unexpected, a little absurd, but somehow perfect.

With one last look at Raelee’s sleeping form, Vexor slipped out of the cabin and into the misty morning. His heart felt like it was being torn in two, but he forced himself to keep moving. He had a rebellion to quash, a planet to protect, and a love to safeguard—even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.

As he made his way out the main entrance, Vexor allowed himself one moment of weakness. He turned back, looking at the cabin that was rapidly disappearing in the distance. “Good-bye, Raelee,” he whispered to the wind. “May the stars watch over you until we meet again.”

Then, squaring his shoulders, Prince Vexor of Tharvis turned his thoughts toward home, leaving behind the only piece of his heart he’d ever freely given. The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but one thought kept him moving forward: someday, if the fates were kind, Raelee would stand beside him as his wife, and he would never have to leave her again.

Vexor chuckled darkly to himself. “Well, Vex,” he muttered, “you wanted to experience Earth culture. Congratulations. You’ve just starred in your very own romantic tragedy. Shakespeare would be proud.”

With that final, sardonic thought, he activated his cloaking device and disappeared into the fog, leaving behind the Earth girl who had changed everything.

TEN

Raelee’s eyes fluttered open, her hand instinctively reaching across the bed. The sheets were cold, unnaturally smooth. No Vex.

“Vex?” she called out, her voice echoing in the empty cabin.

Silence answered, broken only by the gentle ticking of the old clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Each second that passed without a response made her heart beat a little faster.

A knot formed in her stomach as she sat up, scanning the room. His bag was gone. His jacket no longer hung on the chair where he’d carelessly tossed it last night, leaving behind only the faint scent of his cologne. It was as if he’d never been there at all.

“No, no, no,” Raelee muttered, stumbling out of bed. Her injured foot hit the cold wooden floor, sending a jolt up her spine. Or maybe that was just the growing sense of dread.

She searched the cabin, her movements growing frantic with each empty drawer, each barren surface. The coffee mug he’d used yesterday still sat in the sink. It felt like a taunt, a reminder of what had been there just hours ago.

Then she saw it. A folded piece of paper on the kitchen counter, her name scrawled across the top in his boldhandwriting. With trembling fingers, she unfolded it, holding her breath as if the paper might disintegrate at her touch.

After reading it, the paper crumpled in her fist as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over her. Anger, confusion, hurt—they swirled together, threatening to pull her under.

“Safe?” she spat out, her voice cracking. “What the hell does that mean?”

She paced the small cabin, her mind racing. The floorboards creaked under her feet, each step punctuating her spiraling thoughts. Why would he leave like this? After everything they’d been through, everything they’d shared...

Raelee stopped short, catching sight of herself in the small mirror above the fireplace. Her hair was a mess, her eyes wide and slightly wild. She looked like a woman on the edge, which, she supposed, she was.

“Get it together, Arison,” she told her reflection sternly. But the woman staring back at her looked anything but together.

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