Page 45 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

“Ignore them,” he murmured. “They mean no harm.”

“I know.” And I did. After years of the Temple’s calculated cruelty, mere curiosity held no sting. “It’s just strange, being seen as a person instead of a vessel.”

His growl rumbled through where our shoulders touched. “You were always a person. They just couldn’t see past their own corruption.”

“And you can?” The words slipped out before I could think better of them.

He turned me to face him, one hand rising to cup my cheek. The crystal light painted shadows across his face, but his eyes burned bright and sure.

“I see you, Niam. All of you.” His thumb traced my cheekbone. “The strength that helped you survive. The compassion that makes you want to save others, even after everything they’ve done. The fire that burns in your heart.”

My breath caught at the intensity in his gaze. This close, I could see the beast stirring behind his eyes, protective and possessive in equal measure.

“And what does the beast see?” I whispered.

His pupils expanded, nearly drowning the color. “Mine,” he growled. “My mate. My queen. My heart.”

The word 'mate' sent tremors through my body. So much power in that single syllable - promise and threat and destiny all wrapped together.

A throat cleared behind us. We turned to find Mahra watching with poorly concealed amusement.

“Your tent awaits,” she said, gesturing toward the shelter set apart from the others. “Unless you’d prefer to continue this discussion in public?”

“Everything you need is inside,” she said, mouth curving into a smile that made heat rise in my cheeks. “Sleep well, children.” She turned and walked away, braids swaying, leaving us alone.

I ducked through the entrance first, grateful for the shadows that hid my blush. The space felt intimate - a single sleeping pallet piled with furs, a wooden rack for our gear, a brass pot steaming in the corner. When I lifted the lid, herb scented steam drifted up.

The pouch Mahra had given me lay empty now - the device's work complete once it had led us to the pod. Like so many things from my old life, it had served its purpose and gone quiet, making way for new beginnings

I considered the wine and meat laid out on a low table. After days of travel rations, the spread looked like a feast. But something else pulled at my attention, making food seem far less important.

“I’ll check the perimeter.” Tharon’s words brushed my neck before he slipped back outside.

I sat on a woven mat to tug off my boots, wiggling my toes against the soft weave. The Temple had trained precision and control into my muscles, but now they trembled with an entirely different kind of anticipation.

The tent flap rustled. Tharon filled the entrance, moonlight spilling around his shoulders. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” I rose, took a step toward him.

His eyes tracked my movement. “Thirsty?”

“No.” Another step.

A muscle jumped in his jaw as I drew closer. His fingers flexed at his sides. My fierce warrior prince, suddenly uncertain.

My lips curved. The mighty Valti, flustered by my approach. I caught the thought and drew up short. What right did I have to find him adorable? He was Shakai royalty, heir to Zashi’s throne. A predator who could tear apart Temple guards without breaking stride.

But his fingers trembled when I took that final step.

“Are you tired?” The words rumbled from his chest.

Deliberately, I unlaced my vest and let it fall. “Not tired either.”

The furs beneath my feet whispered as I closed the last distance between us. Even on tiptoe, I barely reached his chin. My palm found his cheek, so warm beneath my touch.

“You’ll need to help me out here.” I stroked my thumb along his jawline. “I can’t quite reach.”

His hands settled at my waist, steadying. “I am yours to command, my queen.”

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