Page 13 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

Minutes stretched like years until the bagart finally drew to a halt, finding refuge in a sheltered clearing. I slid from its back on shaky legs, my entire body trembling from the adrenaline and fear. Where was Tharon? Had he...?

A rustling from the path behind us made me whirl around. Tharon emerged from the underbrush, his clothing torn and stained with both his blood and the creature’s dark ichor. But he was alive, and the fierce grin on his face sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with fear.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes scanning me for injury.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. He approached, his hand reaching out to steady me, and I found myself leaning into his touch, craving the safety and warmth he offered.

“What was that thing?” I finally managed to ask.

Tharon’s expression darkened. “Something that shouldn’t be here. We need to move. There might be more, and we’re still too close to the Temple.”

THARON

Icrouched by the stream, washing the creature’s dark ichor from my wounds. The cuts stung, but I’d endured worse.

I glanced at Niam, who sat on a nearby rock, her face pale but determined. My chest tightened. She shouldn’t be out here, facing such dangers. And yet, I admired her strength.

“How are you holding up?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Just...” She trailed off, her gaze distant.

I nodded, understanding her unspoken words. The encounter had shaken us both.

Finishing with my wounds, I moved to check on the bagart. The beast snorted as I approached, still skittish from the attack. I ran my hands along its flanks, searching for injuries.

“Easy,” I murmured, stroking its neck. “You did well.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Niam watching me. Her expression softened, a small smile playing at her lips. Heat rose to my face, and I turned away, suddenly self-conscious.

“We should keep moving,” I said, clearing my throat. “The Temple guards could still be tracking us.”

Niam nodded, standing up. I moved to help her onto the bagart, hyper-aware of her closeness as I lifted her. Her scent,a mix of sweat and something uniquely her, filled my nostrils. I swallowed hard, resisting the temptation to draw her near.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she settled onto the bagart’s back.

I grunted in response, not trusting my voice. As I swung up behind her, I wrestled with conflicting instincts. All I wanted was to protect her, to whisk her away to safety. But I knew she had her own mission, her own strength. I had to respect that.

We set off, the terrain growing more treacherous with each passing hour. Jagged rocks jutted from the ground, threatening to tear the bagart’s hooves. Narrow ledges forced us to dismount and lead the beast carefully along cliffside paths.

My senses remained alert, scanning for any sign of danger. The encounter with the skyclaw had put me on edge. If one impossible thing could happen, what else might we face?

Niam stumbled on a loose stone, and my hand shot out to grip her arm instinctively. She looked up at me, our faces suddenly close. We stood frozen, my hand on her arm, her breath warm on my skin.

“I’m okay,” she said, breaking the spell. “Just lost my footing.”

I nodded, releasing Niam’s arm reluctantly. The path ahead narrowed to a treacherous ledge hugging the cliff face. I eyed the crumbling rock with distaste.

“We’ll have to lead the bagart carefully,” I said. “Stay close to the wall.”

I took the bagart’s reins, guiding it forward onto the narrow path. The creature snorted nervously, hooves scraping against loose pebbles.

“Steady,” I murmured, patting its flank.

We inched along the ledge, the drop to our right a dizzying void. Niam pressed herself against the rock face, her breathingquick and shallow. I longed to scoop her up, carry her to safety, but I knew she’d never allow it.

“You’re doing great,” I said instead, offering what reassurance I could.

She shot me a grateful look. “Thanks. I’m not usually afraid of heights, but this is...”

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