Page 52 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

“My most trusted warrior, though I rarely admitted it.” Tharon resumed work on the tent. “He balances Drax’s fire with cool logic. Together they’re...formidable.”

The sun dipped lower as a chill breeze stirred my hair.

Tharon noticed my shiver. In moments, he’d wrapped his heavy cloak around my shoulders. The fur lining carried his scent - musky spices and mountain air.

“The king is dying.” His words came soft as he knelt to build a fire. “My father - no, Sarl. He was never truly a father to me.”

I drew the cloak tighter. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do.” Sparks flew as he struck flint to steel. “You need to understand what you’re walking into. The royal court is a nest of vipers, each noble faction vying for power.”

The flames caught, casting dancing shadows across his face. “For years I played their games. Kept Drax away from court, undermined his position, all to secure my own claim to the throne.”

“What changed?”

“I did.” He fed small twigs to the growing fire. “When mother died, when I realized how deep her poison ran...I saw what power had cost us all.”

Night crept into the valley as Tharon explained the web of alliances and betrayals that marked Zashi politics. He spoke of King Sarl’s wasting illness, of noble houses circling like vultures, of his own ruthless climb to power.

But underneath the cold calculation, I heard pain. The abandoned child desperate to prove himself worthy. The unwanted son fighting for scraps of approval.

I rose, my legs steadier now, and moved to kneel beside him. “You don’t need to be alone anymore.”

His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. “No. I don’t.”

The fire crackled, sparks rising to join the first stars appearing overhead. Tharon pulled ingredients from our packs - dried meat, roots, herbs that filled the air with sharp, unfamiliar scents.

“Drax is handling the council while I’m gone,” he said as he worked. “He has a way with people when he bothers to try. They trust his honesty, even if they fear his beast.”

“And you?”

“They fear my mind more than any beast.” He stirred the pot hanging over the flames. “But perhaps that’s changing too.”

I watched his sure movements as he prepared our meal. No wasted motion, every action precise. Like the Temple’s efficiency, but warmed by something human.

“The wanderers worry me more,” he continued. “Korrin’s people have always been...unpredictable. But we need their support if we’re to unite the Shakai.”

“Why does everything have to be about power?” The question slipped out.

Tharon’s hand stilled. “Because power used wisely protects what matters. My people. My lands.” His eyes found mine across the fire. “My mate.”

Warmth spread through me. “I don't need protection.”

“No.” His smile held edges of predator and prince. “But you have it anyway.”

The rich scent of cooking meat filled the air. My stomach growled, reminding me how long we’d traveled.

Tharon ladled stew into wooden bowls, passing one to me. “Careful. It’s hot.”

The first bite exploded with flavor on my tongue.

“Good?”

I nodded, already reaching for another spoonful. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Survival training. A prince who can’t feed himself won’t last long in the wilds. Not all of the dangers lie in the council chambers.” He watched me eat with satisfaction. “Though I rarely had such appreciative company.”

Night settled fully around us, the fire our only light. Stars wheeled overhead, a stark contrast from the Temple’s sealed chambers. A night bird called from the forest edge.

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