Page 82 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

Her smile was radiant. “Due in winter. Korrin’s insufferable about it - you’d think no one had ever had a baby before.” Her expression softened. “But it feels right, bringing new life into a free city.”

“How is everyone? The city?”

“Better than we could have hoped. Everyone stepped up - families, crafters, even the merchant quarter. The city was readyfor change.” She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Though I think some merchants are disappointed they can’t dramatically reveal hidden rebel connections anymore.”

That startled a laugh from me, though it made my ribs ache.

Denna’s expression grew serious. “We’ve had word from Zashi. Once you’re stronger... they’re eager to welcome their new princess.”

The title still felt strange. “I’m not sure I know how to be a princess, let alone a queen.”

“You led a revolution by believing in people’s better natures. I’d say that’s a good start.” She reached for my hand. “And you won’t be alone. Mila’s already planning diplomatic arrangements, and Korrin’s organizing trade agreements.” A pause. “We’ll miss you, though.”

“I’ll come back to visit. Often.”

“You’d better. This little one will need their Aunt Niam’s influence to balance out their father’s stuffiness.” Her attempt at lightness didn’t quite hide the shimmer in her eyes.

I squeezed her hand, throat tight with emotion. Through the window, I could hear children playing in the streets below, their laughter free and unconstrained. Soon there would be decisions to make, a journey to prepare for, a new life to build. But for now, this was enough - the sound of hope in children’s voices, my friend’s joy.

The future stretched before us like dawn breaking over mountains. Different than we’d imagined, perhaps. But brighter. Free.

THARON

The heat of the day carried the sharp scent of medicinal plants mixed with tanning solutions. My claws left fresh marks in the wooden door frame as I watched Niam take careful steps through the garden, catching herself on raised beds when her legs trembled.

Every instinct screamed to help her, to gather her close and carry her to safety. But I’d learned - my fierce little mate needed to find her own strength again.

I noticed Serra's youngest grandchildren peering from behind the herbs, their whispered conversation clear to my enhanced hearing.

“They say she made the Temple fall with just a thought...”

“Look how pale she is, like moonlight...”

“Do you think she really talks to machines?”

Niam noticed them too. She knelt carefully beside a patch of yarrow, her movements still stiff but improving. “Would you like to learn about the healing plants?”

The smallest child - Rovia - crept forward first, drawn by Niam’s gentle voice. The others followed, their fear melting into fascination as she showed them which leaves to pick, how to tell when flowers were ready for drying.

“Can I...” Rovia reached toward Niam’s close-cropped hair, then pulled back. “They say it burns like fire.”

“It’s just hair.” Niam caught the girl’s hand, guiding it to touch the bright strands. “See? No fire.”

The older children hung back, their eyes darting between Niam and me. One boy tugged the girl’s sleeve, trying to pull her away when she strayed too close to where I stood.

“But look at his hair,” Rovia whispered, seemingly unafraid. “Like the sky.”

Her brother’s voice shook. “Grandmother says the creatures outside the walls of Terr eat bad children.”

Standing deliberately relaxed, I remembered how Niam had taught me that stillness could be as important as strength. The children's heartbeats fluttered like trapped birds - except for Rovia, who seemed more fascinated than frightened.

“He’s not scary,” she announced, making her brother choke. “He looks at her like Papa looks at Mama.”

My chest tightened at how she handled their curiosity, teaching them not to fear what was different. The beast in me purred with pride even as it stayed alert for any threat to our mate. Children’s honest wonder was one thing - the calculated interest of adults would prove far more challenging.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Ashur strode into the garden, Mila at his side. Their expressions spoke of urgent news, but they paused when they saw Niam surrounded by children.

“The merchant’s council requests an audience,” Mila said, her tone careful. “And there are... visitors from the inner rings.”

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