Page 31 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

She nodded. Her short hair brushed my chin, carrying the lingering scent of Mahra’s tent - herbs and woodsmoke. But underneath was pure Niam, a scent that called to something primitive in my blood.

We sat in silence, listening to the storm rage outside. The drones passed by twice more, their whine barely audible over the wind.

“Tell me about the Valti.” Her quiet words surprised me. “Mahra said it was something extra in the blood.”

I stiffened. Of course, Mahra would have told her.

“It’s... complicated.” I chose my words carefully. “The Valti runs in some Shakai bloodlines. Makes us stronger, faster. Better hunters and warriors.”

“But?”

“My mother - Queen Kiha - she wanted the perfect prince. My half-brother Drax’s Valti nature showed early. She saw how people feared him, whispered about him. So she ordered the priestesses to create something that would suppress my Valti.”

“Did it work?”

“For years.” I laughed without humor. “I was everything she wanted - cold, controlled, reasonable. The perfect counterpoint to Drax’s wildness. Then...”

“Then?”

“Then I started dreaming of you.”

NIAM

My heart nearly stopped at Tharon’s words.“Then I started dreaming of you.”

His admission hung in the frigid air between us. My mind raced, trying to process what he’d said while also being acutely aware of his solid warmth against my back, the way his arms bracketed me from the cold.

“Dreams?” The word came out barely above a whisper.

“For months now.” I felt his breath at the nape of my neck. “At first, just fragments. A flash of red hair. Green eyes filled with defiance. The echo of your voice, though I didn’t know the words.”

I pulled away slightly, turning to face him. The firelight caught the angles of his face, shadows dancing across his features. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes searched mine. “And then I saw your message, the vision of you from the device when it was first assembled. It was the first time I knew you were real.”

The cave fell silent except for the howling wind outside and the steady breathing of the villart. My hands trembled, and not just from the cold.

Because I’d seen him too.

During the endless hours in the Tomb, when digital tendrils threaded through my mind like poisoned vines, sometimes there had been... something else. Flashes of midnight hair and eyes that held both ice and fire. A sense of safety I couldn't understand, warmth in the midst of electronic winter.

I’d assumed it was the Temple playing tricks, trying to keep me compliant. But now...

“The storm’s getting worse.” Tharon’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “We should move deeper into the cave. Find somewhere more protected.”

I nodded, grateful for the momentary distraction. He stood first, offering his hand to help me up. The simple touch sent sparks along my skin.

The villart balked when Tharon tried to lead it further in, tossing its scaled head and backing away from the darkness.

“Here.” I stepped forward, running my hand along its neck like I’d seen the handlers do. “How do I calm it?”

“Find the soft spot just behind the jaw.” Tharon’s fingers covered mine, guiding them to the right place. “Gentle pressure. Let it know you’re not a threat.”

The villart relaxed under our combined touch, scales warming slightly beneath my palm. Tharon’s hand lingered on mine longer than necessary before he pulled away to gather firewood.

“Good,” he murmured. “You have a way with them.”

I led the villart while Tharon scouted ahead with a makeshift torch, until eventually the passage curved inward, then opened into a wider chamber with a high ceiling. Perfect.

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