Page 5 of The Alien's Captive Bride

Azlun turned to face her fully, his black and gold eyes hardening. “The alliance with Earth is of utmost importance, Princess. And I’d advise against underestimating Miss Arison. She’s far more than meets the eye.”

Nyrea’s facade cracked, raw anger seeping through. “You’ll regret this, Azlun,” she hissed, her nails digging into her palms. “We had something real. Don’t think I’ll stand idly by while you throw it all away for some human plaything.”

With a dramatic swish of her gown, Nyrea stormed off, leaving a wake of startled guests in her path. Azlun released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, tension draining from his shoulders.

“Well, that was quite the show,” a familiar voice chuckled beside him. Amari Stryka stopped next to him, a glass of shimmering color-changing Tharvian wine in her hand. Her sharp green eyes sparkled with amusement. “I thought she might actually breathe fire for a moment there.”

Azlun couldn’t help but laugh. “Amari, your timing is impeccable as always. I was beginning to fear I’d need to call for reinforcements.”

Her brow rose as she sipped her wine. The liquid swirled from deep purple to vibrant blue as it passed her lips. “Reinforcements? Against Nyrea? Please. I’ve seen you face down entire armadas with less concern.”

“Armadas are straightforward,” Azlun grimaced. “Nyrea is... extremely complicated.”

“Mm-hmm,” Amari hummed, her gaze drifting to where Venus stood chatting with Earth officials. “And I suppose Miss Arison is simple?”

Azlun followed her gaze, a small smile on his lips. “Venus is... refreshing. Challenging. She sees me as a person, not a title or a means to an end.”

“Ah,” Amari nodded sagely. “So she’s exactly what you need and everything you fear. No wonder you can’t keep your eyes off her.”

Before Azlun could respond, a booming laugh interrupted their conversation. Dravek, Azlun’s younger brother, approached with Garek in tow. Dravek’s massive frame dwarfed most of the other guests, his intricate royal tattoos glowing faintly beneath his formal attire.

“Brother!” Dravek bellowed, clapping Azlun on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a lesser man. “Why so serious? It’s a celebration!”

Garek, more reserved but no less amused, nodded in greeting. “Indeed. Though I must say, these Earth women are proving to be quite the challenge. One nearly took my head off for complimenting her hair. Apparently, it’s a ‘weave,’ whatever that means.”

Azlun couldn’t help but chuckle. “Perhaps it’s best to stick to complimenting their intelligence, Garek. It seems safer.”

“Safer?” Dravek guffawed. “Where’s the fun in that? I, for one, am enjoying the unpredictability. It’s refreshing to meet women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds.”

“Speaking of which,” Amari interjected, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “our dear prince here seems quite taken with one Earth woman in particular.”

All eyes turned to Azlun, who felt a rare warmth creep up his neck. “Venus is... intriguing,” he admitted. “She’s not afraid to challenge me nor push back against the whole idea of this arrangement.”

Dravek’s grin widened. “Oh ho! A woman who can keep my brother on his toes? This I have to see.”

“Trust me,” Garek added, a knowing smirk on his face, “you should have seen them during the dance. I thought we might have an interplanetary incident on our hands.”

Azlun shook his head, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “You’re all impossible.”

“Perhaps,” Amari agreed, her tone turning more serious. “But maybe that’s exactly what you need, Azlun. Someone who sees beyond the prince and challenges you to be more than just a figurehead in this alliance.”

A comfortable silence fell over the group as they each pondered Amari’s words. Azlun’s gaze once again found Venusacross the room. She was laughing at something one of the Earth delegates had said, her entire face lighting up with genuine delight. For a moment, Azlun forgot to breathe.

“Well, brother,” Dravek said softly, uncharacteristically serious, “whatever happens, know that we’re behind you. Even if it means facing down the wrath of a scorned Nyrea.”

Garek nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Though perhaps we should increase security around Miss Arison, just in case.”

Azlun tore his eyes from Venus, looking at his friends and family with genuine gratitude. “Thank you, all of you. I have a feeling we’re in for quite the adventure.”

As the night progressed, the jovial atmosphere in the ballroom began to shift. The initial excitement of the wedding celebration gave way to more serious undercurrents, particularly among the Tharvian nobles. Azlun noticed the change, his keen political instincts kicking in despite the festive setting.

He gestured to Garek and Dravek, leading them to a quieter corner of the ballroom. The three of them huddled close, their voices low, a stark contrast to their earlier lighthearted banter.

“We need to discuss the Drakanor Sect,” Azlun said, his tone grave. “I’ve heard whispers that Oran has taken control.”

Dravek’s usually boisterous demeanor sobered immediately. “Oran? Eerion’s younger brother? That’s... concerning.”

Garek nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if searching for potential eavesdroppers. “Indeed. Oran’s always been more calculated than Eerion. If he’s in charge now, we could be facing a far more subtle threat.”

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