Page 33 of The Alien's Unwanted Bride

“Zora!” Dravek’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “Zora, stay with me!”

The vines caught them, bending under their weight but holding firm. They slid down the makeshift rope, the ground rushing up to meet them at dizzying speed.

They hit the ground hard, Dravek taking the brunt of the impact with Zora cradled protectively in his arms. The shock of the landing sent a fresh wave of pain through Zora’s injured side, and she bit back a scream.

“Zora?” Dravek’s face swam into focus above her, his features etched with worry. “Zora, can you hear me?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak groan. The world was starting to fade around the edges, shock and blood loss taking their toll.

“Stay with me,” Dravek pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his hand against her wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “You can’t leave me, not now. I... I need you.”

A warmth spread through her chest. She wanted to tell him that she needed him too and that she wasn’t going anywhere. But the darkness was closing in, inexorable and all-consuming.

The last thing she saw before consciousness slipped away was Dravek’s face, his usually stoic expression shattered by fear and something that looked a lot like love.

Then, everything went black.

TWENTY-THREE

Dravek’s world narrowed to a single point of focus: Zora’s pale, unconscious form cradled in his arms. The chaos around him faded to a dull roar as he pressed his hand against her wound, willing the bleeding to stop.

“Zora,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Stay with me. Please.”

For the first time in his life, Dravek felt true fear. Not the adrenaline rush of battle or the tension of a high-stakes negotiation, but a bone-deep, paralyzing terror at the thought of losing her. The realization hit him like a physical blow: he couldn’t imagine a life without Zora in it.

A shout from nearby snapped him back to reality. Ylara and her rebel forces had arrived, engaging the remaining Drakanor mercenaries in fierce combat. The night air crackled with energy blasts and the clash of weapons.

Dravek’s military instincts warred with his desire to stay by Zora’s side. But he knew what she would want him to do. As he laid her in a hidden alcove, Sprig fell out of its hiding place in the gown’s inner pocket.

“Sprig,” Dravek said. The small robot came to life.

“Prince Dravek, what has happened?”

“No time, Sprig. Watch over Zora. Make sure no one harms her further. I’ll be back,” he promised. “Hold on, Zora. I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain. Malgor will fall.”

With a last lingering look at her still form, Dravek turned and plunged into the fray. He fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself, each strike fueled by a potent mixture of rage and fear. Mercenaries fell before him like wheat before a scythe.

As he fought, Dravek caught glimpses of the larger battle unfolding. Ylara’s forces were pushing the Drakanor back, reclaiming the palace room by room. The tide was turning.

A familiar voice cut through the din, dripping with malice and desperation. Malgor Tan’er.

Dravek’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the usurper trying to slip away in the chaos. Without hesitation, he gave chase, vaulting over fallen debris and dodging energy blasts.

He cornered Malgor in a lavish study, the walls lined with ancient tomes and priceless artifacts. The older man’s composure had crumbled, replaced by wild-eyed panic.

“It’s over, Malgor,” Dravek said, his voice cold and hard as Tharvisian steel. “Surrender now, and you might be shown mercy.”

Malgor’s laugh was brittle and humorless. “Mercy? There’s no mercy in politics, boy. Only power.” He lunged, a hidden blade flashing in his hand. But Dravek was faster. Years of training took over, and in a blur of movement, he disarmed Malgor and pinned him to the ground.

“You’re wrong,” Dravek growled, securing Malgor’s hands behind his back. “There is mercy in justice. And justice is what you’ll face.”

As he hauled Malgor to his feet, Ylara burst into the room, flanked by her most trusted lieutenants. Her eyes widened at the sight of the captured usurper.

“Well done, Prince Dravek,” she said, a fierce grin spreading across her face. “The throne room is secure. Xuevis is ours once more.”

A cheer went up from the rebels, the sound of victory echoing through the palace halls. But Dravek felt no elation. His thoughts were only of Zora.

“Zora,” he said urgently. “She’s injured. She needs medical attention immediately.”

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