Page 21 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

I counted twelve armed guards at the perimeter, their leather armor studded with protective crystals. Three more patrolled between the tents, boots crunching on scattered gravel. The eastern edge backed against a cliff face - defensible, but also a trap if we needed to run. Picks and hammers rang against stone in the distance, the rhythm of miners at work.

“The mess tent serves excellent stew,” Mahra said, leading us between the rows. “We can have some brought to my quarters.”

Perfect. The fewer people who saw Niam’s face, the better. I kept her close as we walked, using my height to shield her from curious stares. The miners still paused in their work to watch us pass, tools hanging forgotten in their hands. Their faces were streaked with stone dust, gems glinting from braids and belts.

“Did you see the prince?”

“Who’s that with him?”

The whispers followed us down the path. I pressed my hand against Niam’s back, urging her forward. Her muscles jumped at my touch.

Mahra’s tent dominated the center of camp, raw gems worked into intricate patterns across the fabric. More crystals hung in strands from the entry flap, chiming softly in the breeze like miniature bells.

“After you,” Mahra held the flap aside.

Inside, incense smoke mixed with wood smoke from a small brazier. Thick furs covered the ground, and jewel-studded cushions created conversation areas throughout the space.

“Sit.” Mahra pointed to a cluster of seats. “Before you fall over.”

Niam sank onto a cushion, but I remained standing. Better position to reach my sword if needed.

“Now.” Mahra settled across from us. “Would you like to explain why you’re traveling with a Frostling, Your Highness?”

Heat surged through my veins. My hands clenched.

“Elder Mahra.” I fought to keep my voice level. “Weigh your words well.”

But Mahra threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, sit down, boy. If I meant her harm, my hunters would have taken care of that in the forest.” She smiled at Niam. “Besides, I’ve been waiting decades to meet one of your kind face to face.”

“You knew?” Niam’s hood fell back. “About my people?”

“Child, the miners see much in these mountains. Now, shall we discuss what brought a prince and a creature of legend to my doorstep?”

NIAM

Tharon shifted his weight from one foot to another behind my cushion. His proximity warmed my back, but his refusal to sit pricked at my nerves.

“I can protect myself,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” Tharon’s hand brushed my shoulder. “That’s why you’re falling over from exhaustion.”

“Enough, both of you.” Mahra clapped her hands. “We’ll discuss everything after food. You look half-starved, child.”

A servant materialized at the tent flap.

“Bring us the evening meal.” Mahra waved her hand. “And wine.”

Tharon pulled out the wrapped meat from his pack. “Take this to the kitchens,” he told the servant. “Share it with the camp.”

The smell of roasting meat drifted into the tent minutes later. My empty stomach and salivating mouth reminded me how long it had been since our last proper meal.

Two servants brought in steaming bowls of stew and fresh bread. The rich aroma of spices made my mouth water.

“My cooking skills don’t compare,” Tharon said, finally settling beside me. His leg pressed against mine as he reached for his bowl.

I froze with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I’ve been known to, on occasion.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

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