Page 63 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

Within the inn’s private dining room, I caught the aromas of unfamiliar spices wafting from heated serving dishes. After a long day of preparations, my stomach growled despite my nerves.

“You need to eat.” Tharon pulled out my chair, his hand lingering on my shoulder as I sat. “Build your strength.”

At his command servants brought in platters heaped with dishes I’d never seen before. Vibrant colors and textures filled the table - golden-crusted pastries, roasted meats glazed with shimmering sauces, and vegetables cut into delicate spirals.

“Try this.” Tharon loaded his fork with a morsel of meat wrapped in paper-thin pastry. Instead of passing the plate, he held the fork to my lips. “Trust me.”

I hesitated, catching Ashur’s raised eyebrows and Korrin’s carefully blank expression. Even Denna had frozen mid-reach for her cup. The fearsome Prince of Zashi, hand-feeding someone like a doting lover?

But Tharon’s focus remained entirely on me, as if the others had ceased to exist. The tenderness in his expression made my chest ache.

I leaned forward and took the offered bite. Flavors exploded across my tongue - rich meat seasoned with sweet spices I couldn’t name, the pastry dissolving like snowflakes.

“Good?” His thumb brushed my lower lip.

I nodded, unable to speak around the exquisite taste. He smiled - not his usual predatory grin, but something softer, meant only for me.

“More?” Another choice morsel appeared on his fork - this time something that looked like jewel-toned flowers made of impossibly thin slices of fruit.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mila’s jaw drop. The fearsome Prince of Zashi’s reputation clearly hadn’t prepared any of them for this side of him. But I was learning there were many sides to my mate.

I opened my mouth for another bite, savoring both the intricate flavors and the warmth in Tharon’s eyes as he watched me eat. Let them stare. This was who we were together, even if no one else understood.

The delicate fruit melted on my tongue like summer rain.

“Remember my first Wanderer feast?” Denna tucked her feet under her, accepting a cup of spiced wine from Korrin. “I’d never seen so much food in one place. Or so many colors.”

“Tell them about the dancing,” Mila prompted.

Denna’s cheeks flushed. “I stepped on everyone’s feet. But they just laughed and taught me the steps again.”

“You should see her now,” Korrin said. “She leads the harvest dances.”

“Because no one else wants to risk dropping the ribbons in front of the elders.” But Denna’s smile betrayed her pride.

I picked at my food, stomach too knotted for more than small bites. Tomorrow, we’d ride for Terr. Tomorrow we’d begin the journey back to my nightmares.

Tharon’s hand settled on my knee under the table. I covered it with mine, grateful for the anchor.

“What about you?” Denna asked Mila. “Any embarrassing stories?”

“Oh stars.” Mila groaned. “The first time I tried to cook for Ashur’s family. I didn’t know the spices were that different.”

“Different?” Ashur’s lips twitched. “You nearly burned my mother’s tongue off.”

“She was very polite about it!”

“She drank three pitchers of water.”

The laughter that followed eased some of the tension from my shoulders. These were my people now - this odd collection of humans and Shakai, bound together by choice and trust.

The conversation drifted, stories flowing like the wine. Tales of first meetings, of cultural misunderstandings, of finding belonging in unexpected places. Through it all, Tharon’s steady presence grounded me.

When the last dishes were cleared and the wine was gone, reality settled back over us like a heavy cloak. Tomorrow waited, with all its dangers and uncertainties.

“We should rest,” Denna said finally. “Long ride ahead.”

The others murmured agreement, rising to prepare for bed. But I lingered, not ready to face the dark and my dreams.

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