Page 24 of Alien Prince

“Raif!” I shoot out in Gemma’s voice, her surprise striking her silent for the first time, well, ever.

As Raif spots us and starts to make his way to us, he barks out a command to his lackeys to hold their fire. When their weapons are all stowed, and I have his full attention, I channel my best impression of Gemma and her doe-eyed look that tells me everything I need to know about how he feels abouther.

And that’s when I strike, casting him a glare that is all me, that tells him this is not his Gemma. Not by a long shot, and as far as I’m concerned, she’ll never be his anything ever again.

I take off like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction, and I don’t stop. Gemma’s enhancements more than aid us both in speed and impact. Her heavy boots hit the hard pavement once we’ve cleared the hallway, and I can hear Raif behind us.

What the fuck was that?she hisses in our shared space.

Kumbaya, motherfucker.

Gemma scoffs at me.Real mature, Ronny.

Her breath catches in her throat as our shared muscles burn from the adrenaline and the instincts that have taken over.

Raif’s voice, and shots ring out, but they are fading.

They can not catch us, becausemy Gemmais better with me.

She is faster, stronger, and more powerful than she even realizes.

Wow, Raif sure is being helpful today. Maybe if we're lucky, he'll shoot you again to give us a head start, I tease.You know, just to keep things interesting.

As we slip out of the pods and into the night, I can't help but wonder what Gemma has seen in her life, what experiences have led her to this moment. She moves with a determination that both impresses and intrigues me, like someone with a fire lit from within.

We dash through the city, our breaths mingling with the smoke and grime of the slums. The desperation of the streets is palpable, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the luxury I’m about to slip back into. The dimly lit alleys and narrow passages offer us some cover, but the ever-watchful eyes of the sentinels make every step a calculated risk. Gemma’s eyes flicker with a mix of defiance and fear, a look that seems all too familiar.

As we near the ivory palace, its pristine walls starkly contrasting with the filth we've just traversed, my heart races. The palace looms ahead, a symbol of everything I despise yet am bound to protect. We sneak through the less-guarded servants’ entrance, our movements synchronized and silent. The grandeur of the palace feels almost suffocating after the raw reality of the slums.

Finally, we make it back to safety. Gemma collapses onto the floor, panting and exhausted. The sight of her, so fierce and vulnerable, ignites something within me. This girl is more thanjust another pawn in this celestial game. There's a strength in her that I can't ignore, a fire that mirrors my own discontent with this cursed life.

“Nice to see the palace hasn't changed,” Gemma mutters between breaths, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Welcome to my nightmare.

With a deep breath, I begin to separate myself from her, feeling the familiar sensation of disconnection. As I fully exit her body, Gemma gasps and rolls over onto her knees. It must hurt her too, and again, the guilt of invading her body and mind hits me like a meteor slamming into a planet's surface. Breathing heavily, she struggles to stand and instincts kick in as she sways on her feet, falling to her knees.

“Are you okay?” I ask, checking on her. She looks up at me with a tired smirk, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but still managing to muster that familiar snark.

“Oh, just peachy,” she replies, sarcasm dripping from her words. “Never been better, really.”

I don't want to leave her, especially not after everything that has happened between us. But she needs rest and I need to collect my own thoughts. I have to get as far away from her as possible. It hurts to leave her, like ripping myself from her is tearing my soul apart. A hollowness gnaws at my chest, leaving me feeling as vulnerable as a newly hatched star. The cosmic void that once embraced me now seems to stretch endlessly, its cold tendrils wrapping around my very essence

I reach down to help Gemma up, fully expecting my hand to pass right through her, as it's done with everyone else besides my family. As my fingers brush her arm, an electric shock jolts through my body. My breath catches in my throat as warmth radiates from the point of contact, spreading like wildfire across my skin. My heart races, pounding against my chest as if trying to escape. I've never felt anything like this before - thesoftness of her skin, the gentle pulse beneath my fingertips. It's intoxicating, overwhelming. I want to pull away, to shield myself from this new, intense sensation, but I'm frozen in place, caught between fear and fascination.

Startled, I jerk my hand back, eyes wide with disbelief. Gemma remains on her hands and knees, panting, her breath ragged. Her icy blue eyes snap to mine, filled with confusion and something else—fear? Anger? It's hard to tell.

For a moment, time stands still. My heart pounds in my nebulous chest, each beat echoing the impossible reality of what just happened. Cautiously, I reach out again, this time letting my fingers lightly graze her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm, and very real.

She flinches but then leans into my touch, her breath hitching.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“I—I can touch you,” I stammer, my voice barely more than a breath.

Her eyes narrow, suspicion and curiosity battling for dominance.

“But it doesn't mean you can just... touch me.”

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