Page 26 of Alien Prince

A chill pervades the closet, and most of the skins in here are either resting or idle in some other fashion.

Some stare off into the empty shadows, and a part of me wonders if they have lost all sense of their humanity and become literal robots.

This is the reality of what he does. What they all do, and I need to remember that.

I find my cot, and waste no time crawling atop it, pulling my legs to my chest.

I bury my head in my knees and let out a deep breath.

When did everything become so complicated?

The unsettling silence does nothing to quell my wild thoughts. Thoughts I know I shouldn’t have, especially about the prince.

Even now as I lay here, squinting my eyes shut and trying to force out the memory of his possession, of his touch, I can’t.

I should be able to compartmentalize. Strategize. I’m here to bring down the fucking royals, not get all lovesick and swoony over one of them.

He touched me.

Outside of that possession, he touched me, and I know he shouldn’t be able to do that.

What does that mean?

Nowhere in any of my briefings was that covered. Cassie’s intel never specified that the parasites could touch you outside of their parasitic form.

I lay on my cot for what feels like hours, but because there are no windows here, I can’t discern what time it actually is. There is no movement, no acknowledgment that life exists beyond this closet. The people here are like shells. They barely move, save to sleep, bathe, and eat whatever is delivered.

Because they have nothing to do but wait.

I realize this as I watch them. Were they like me when they arrived?

Is this what will happen to me if I don’t follow my orders?

Is this what Ky will turn me into?

No, something tells me that despite everything I know, he wouldn’t. Maybe it’s naive to think as such, but my gut hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

My thoughts threaten to go down roads I don’t want, so instead of thinking about the alien prince who made me come earlier—using my body to do it— I think about something that is equally as unnerving, but less sexual.

Raif.

We’d discussed the details of this mission plenty of times before the day he shot me.

Once I ended up in the closet, I’d be out of touch until I made contact with our mole, who I still have no idea where the fucker is. All I know is I’m looking for a person with several arms, but this place is huge, and I haven’t had much time to explore the grounds with Ky hi-jacking me for a hot ride and all.

I’m not supposed to be thinking about him!

Raif knew I was going dark. He knew he wasn’t to contact me, for risk of blowing the whole fucking operation.

But he couldn’t fucking help himself, could he?

Why the hell did he have to be in that club?

Why did he risk our entire mission, just to follow me?

I know the answer, but I don’t want to admit it. Not now, and certainly not here.

Likely not ever.

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