Page 86 of Alien Prince's Fated Mate

THARON

The Crossroads Inn emerged through the autumn haze, unchanged since our last visit. Late afternoon light painted its weathered stone walls gold. My beast stirred restlessly, remembering - Niam’s first true freedom, the gentle beginning of what we’d become.

Now she sat straight in the wagon beside Denna, her head bare to the cooling air, as regal as any queen.

“Last time we were here,” Denna said, her voice carrying a teasing note, “you two could barely look at each other without blushing.”

Niam’s laugh carried on the breeze. “I seem to remember you and Korrin being just as bad.”

“We were not.” But Korrin’s hand settled protectively over Denna’s growing belly, belying his gruff tone.

The innkeeper emerged as we drew up to the courtyard, his eyes widening slightly at the changes in us. No more the uncertain, angry prince and his fragile companion - we’d been tempered by fire and emerged stronger.

“Welcome back, my lord, my ladies.” He bowed, professional mask firmly in place. “Your usual rooms are prepared.”

I helped Niam down from the wagon, my hands lingering at her waist. Her scent wrapped around me and the beast purred at how naturally she leaned into my touch.

“Come on.” Denna linked arms with Niam. “Let’s get cleaned up while these two handle arrangements. I need to tell you about the Wanderer celebrations you’ll be missing.”

I watched them head inside, Niam’s bright hair catching the sunlight.

“They’ve both changed so much.” Korrin’s quiet observation drew my attention back.

“For the better.” I signaled the stable hands forward. “Though I notice you still hover as much as I do.”

He snorted, but didn’t deny it. We worked in companionable silence, directing the unloading of supplies and sorting what would travel with each group tomorrow. The familiar routine couldn’t quite distract me from acute awareness of Niam’s presence above - her soft laughter drifting down, the shifting notes in her scent as she washed away trail dust.

At that moment the innkeeper approached us. “Will you be taking dinner in the common room, my lord?”

“Private dining tonight, I think.” Our last evening together before the roads diverged.

The inn’s private dining room glowed with lamplight, shadows dancing on polished wood panels. Our small group settled around the table as serving girls brought platters heaped with roasted meats and autumn vegetables. The rich aroma of spices filled the air.

Niam sat close enough that her arm brushed mine with each movement, making the Valti stir restlessly. After days on the road, her nearness affected me more strongly than ever.

“Try this.” I loaded her plate with tender cuts of herb-crusted venison. “The kitchens here do amazing things with mountain herbs.”

Her small sound of pleasure as she tasted the meat made my fingers tighten on my fork. Across the table, Denna’s knowing smile told me I wasn’t being subtle.

“So,” Denna said, accepting a cup of wine from Korrin, “have you thought about what you’ll wear for the presentation to court?”

Niam’s shoulders tensed slightly. “I hadn’t considered...”

“Don’t worry.” Denna’s eyes danced. “I’m already having something made. The Wanderers’ best seamstresses are working on it. It should be in Lita’s hands before you arrive.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Of course I do. What kind of friend would I be if I let you face Zashi’s nobles in traveling clothes?” She gestured with her fork. “Besides, you should see what they’re creating. All silver and moonlight, with crystal beading that catches every ray of light.”

I watched Niam’s face as Denna described the gown. My mate deserved every luxury, every beautiful thing. But more than that, she deserved to feel as remarkable as she truly was.

“The trade arrangements are settled,” Korrin said, his practical tone cutting through the women’s discussion of fabrics. “The Wandering Nation will have representatives in Zashi by midwinter.”

“Good.” I reached for more wine. “The sooner we establish regular contact between all our peoples, the better.”

“It won’t be easy.” Niam’s quiet words drew everyone’s attention. “Generations of separation and fear don’t disappear overnight.”

“No,” I agreed, covering her hand with mine. “But worth doing anyway.”

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