Page 58 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

Mila and Denna’s tales of their new lives spilled out, punctuated by laughter and animated gestures. I soaked in their happiness like a flower turning toward sunlight, letting their joy wash away the shadows of the past few days.

“You should have seen Ashur’s face when I told him I wanted to learn sword-fighting,” Mila said, reaching for another honey cake. “He tried to talk me out of it for days until I threatened to ask Drax instead.”

“And now?”

“Now he complains that I’m getting too good.” She grinned. “But I caught him bragging to the other warriors last week.”

I pictured her wielding a weapon against seasoned Shakai warriors. The image filled me with a fierce pride.

“What about you, Denna?” I asked. “How are you finding life with the Wandering Nation?”

She brushed crumbs from her riding clothes. “It’s... never boring. Let me tell you about the time Baroness Balinta caught some merchants trying to cheat the tribe?”

I shook my head, curling deeper into the cushioned chair. The innkeeper had stoked the fire against the mountain chill, and its warmth seeped into my bones.

“These traders came through last month, claiming their silk was worth three times what the tribe usually pays. Balinta listened to their whole spiel about special dyes and rare weaving techniques.” Denna’s eyes danced. “Then she picked up one bolt and started listing every flaw in the weave, every uneven dye lot, even the exact village where it was made - which was definitely not where they claimed.”

“What did they do?”

“Turned white as ghosts. Turns out she’d spent her youth trading textiles across half the continent. They couldn’t leave fast enough once she was done with them.” Denna’s smile turned thoughtful. “She’s teaching me about fabrics now. Says knowledge is the best weapon in any negotiation.”

More stories flowed - Mila describing the sprawling markets of Zashi, where traders from across the lands hawked their wares. Denna telling tales of life on the move with the Wandering Nation, following ancient paths between summer and winter grounds.

I drank in every detail, until a comfortable silence fell. I traced the rim of my teacup, watching ripples spread across the surface.

“Niam.” Denna’s voice grew serious. “What can we do to help?”

I met their concerned gazes. These women who had escaped the Temple’s grasp, who had built new lives far from its shadow. Who had come running at my message despite the danger.

“The device you helped assemble,” I said slowly. “It led me to something. A... control section that broke off when the ship crashed.”

Their blank looks reminded me - they didn’t know. How could they? The Temple kept its true nature hidden even from its own servants.

“The Temple.” Where to even start? “It’s what’s left of the colony ship that brought humans to this world. The priests use the machinery, the tanks, to...to repair it. With our bodies. Our minds.”

Horror dawned on their faces as understanding hit. Everything they’d endured - the “purification” rituals, the sensory deprivation tanks, the girls who disappeared - suddenly made terrible sense.

“Stars above.” Denna’s face had gone pale. “All this time...”

“I tried to destroy it from the command pod.” My fingers twisted in my skirt. “But there’s too much damage. The systems won’t respond properly. I have to go back to make the final link.”

“No!” They spoke in unison, then shared a quick glance.

“You can’t.” Mila reached for my hand, her eyes going to the side of my head where the implants had been just a few days before. “After everything it took to get you out-”

“I have to.” Steel filled my voice. “As long as the Temple stands, they’ll keep taking girls. Keep using them. Keep-”

The door opened. Tharon filled the frame, his expression unreadable as he took in our positions, the tension in the air.

“The innkeeper said you hadn’t touched your lunch.” His eyes met mine. “Everything alright?”

I started to reassure him, but Denna spoke first.

“She wants to go back to the Temple.”

THARON

Iinhaled sharply at Denna's words. My beast clawed at my chest, demanding action. Drawing on years of discipline, I took steady breaths. Focused my thoughts.

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