Page 29 of The Alien's Unwanted Bride

As she twirled and stepped in time with the music, Zora felt a sudden, overwhelming connection to her heritage. This was the dance of her people, passed down through generations. The realization hit her with unexpected force, bringing a lump to her throat. She was not just an outsider here; she was coming home.

Through the spinning forms of the other dancers, Zora caught sight of Dravek. He stood at the edge of the square, his imposing figure unmistakable even in the flamboyant Xuevisian attire they’d chosen for his disguise. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she saw a flicker of something in his gaze—pride, perhaps, or maybe something deeper.

The dance took her closer to the Grand Hall’s entrance, and Zora seamlessly broke away from the group. She moved with purpose, her steps light but determined. Guards stood at attention by the massive doors, their expressions hidden behind stern masks.

“Time for a little distraction,” Zora whispered, reaching into a hidden pocket of her costume.

She pulled out a small, innocuous-looking seed pod—one of her own creations, a hybrid of Tharvisian and Earth flora. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it toward a nearby fountain. The pod hit the water and burst open, releasing a cloud of luminescent spores.

The effect was immediate and stunning. The spores drifted upward, catching the light and transforming into a dazzling display of color and movement. It looked like the Aurora Borealis had descended to dance among the festival-goers.

Gasps of wonder and delight erupted from the crowd. Even the stoic guards turned their heads, momentarily transfixed by the spectacle.

“Nicely done,” Dravek’s voice came through her earpiece, a hint of admiration coloring his usual stoic tone.

Zora allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she slipped past the distracted guards and into the Grand Hall.

“Now, Sprig,” she whispered, “not a single word or beep from you. If anyone hears you, the entire plan could collapse.”

“Oh,” Sprig whispered back, “I’d better shut down then. I don’t want to get too excited and blow your blanket.”

“It’scover, blow your cover.” Zora rolled her eyes at his failed attempt to speak Earth slang. His language processor was still damaged. “When we get home, remind me to reprogram your Earth language translator.”

The opulent interior took her breath away—soaring ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes, crystal chandeliers that sparkled like a thousand stars, and tapestries that seemed to tell the entire history of Xuevis in woven silk.

But there was no time to admire the decor. Zora moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows as she made her way toward the central chamber where Malgor would soon address the crowd.

As she rounded a corner, a hand suddenly grasped her arm. Zora’s heart leaped into her throat, her body tensing for a fight. But when she turned, she found herself face to face with Dravek.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed even as relief flooded through her. “We’re supposed to maintain our distance.”

Dravek’s eyes, visible through the slits of his mask, were intense. “I saw a patrol entering behind you. We need to move.”

Before Zora could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor. Panic flared in her chest, but Dravek’s steady presence kept her grounded.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered, pulling her close.

In one fluid motion, Dravek spun Zora into an alcove, pressing her against the wall. His body shielded her from view. Zora could feel the rapid beat of Dravek’s heart matching her own frantic pulse.

The patrol passed by, their boots clicking against the polished floor. Zora held her breath, aware of every point of contact between her body and Dravek’s. His warmth seeped through the layers of their costumes, and she found herself fighting the urge to lean into him further.

When the sound of footsteps faded, Dravek stepped back, his movements reluctant. “That was close,” he murmured, his voice husky.

Zora nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The tension between them was palpable, charged with unspoken emotions and the thrill of shared danger.

A burst of static in their earpieces broke the moment. “Zora, Dravek, status report” came Ylara’s voice, tinged with concern.

Zora cleared her throat. “Dravek has joined me. We’re in position. Proceeding to phase three.”

“Understood. Be careful, both of you.”

As they made their way deeper into the Grand Hall, Zora’s mind raced with the details of their plan. They needed to reachthe central communication hub where they could broadcast the evidence of Malgor’s crimes to the entire planet.

The corridors became more crowded as they neared the main chamber. Nobles and dignitaries in elaborate costumes milled about, their excited chatter filling the air. Zora and Dravek blended in seamlessly, their disguises holding up under scrutiny.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the hall. “Esteemed guests, please make your way to the Grand Chamber. Lord Malgor will address us shortly.”

The crowd began to move, and Zora felt a surge of anxiety. They were running out of time.

---