Page 5 of Alien Prince

In his arms I feel cold, but I can’t be certain if it’s because of our strained relationship, or if it’s just another side effect of the poison from the paralyzing bullet lodged in my body.

My body instantly obeys him, almost as if his voice is a magic all of its own. When my father, Vitus Starling, speaks, people listen. When he walks into a room, immediately you feel the air around you change.

It’s why he’s amassed the following he has, and why people are so quick, so eager, to do whatever he asks of them.

Like letting someone shoot you in the leg so you can get captured by the royal asshats.

My eyes are heavy, and his words are like a steel blanket. I can’t find it in me to fight anymore.

When the darkness comes, there is no pain, no wars to wage against the outside world or within myself.

There is only the dark and the stars that fill it.

Chapter Three

Gemma

When I wake up in the hospital bay, the first thing I notice is the weight—or rather, the lack of it. My body is unbalanced, different. I force the scratchy, brown blanket off me, and while my leg doesn’t look any different, it is cold to the touch and lighter when I lift it. The pain has subsided. Even as I flex my new artificial muscles, there is no discomfort. I hear the whispering whirs of machinery, and it takes me only a moment to realize they haven’t just modified my leg. They have practically modified the entire left side of my body.

I let my right hand travel underneath my white cover gown, feeling my skin against my human fingertips. Hard metal underneath my skin runs up my abdomen, stopping just below—

A quick grab of my breast confirmed that at leastthosehaven’t been changed, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Although it wouldn’t have killed them to give me an extra cup size.

I don't remember how I got to the palace, but I know that's where I am. The air here smells cleaner, the lingering scent of sanitizer, and the ever-present ominous chill is a stark shift from the always warm, sticky air of this planet.

Judging by the date on my clipboard attached to my bed, I know I’ve been here for several days, but that can’t be right.

We’d gone over the plan several times, and modifications and preparations usually only take a day at most, and once those modifications are made, I was to be entered into the system and transferred to the palace within twenty-four hours.

Which doesn’t sit right with me. Nevertheless, I don’t have time to mull over the past. My present is more important. I need to make a good impression now that I am in the palace.

I wonder whose closet I’ll end up in…

Not that I want to be worn as a meatsuit by anyone, but if I had a choice in the matter, I’d pick the Queen. Kings might get all the glory, but they are only the head of the throne. The Queen is the neck— she holds the head high, but one movement or kink in the muscle and the head falls. Plus, she makes fewer appearances, which would allow me more time to sneak away and less time being someone's favorite sweater.

It doesn’t take long for the royal medical cleaning crew to fix me up with my new upgrades. White textured walls with a set of large mirrors, a metal bed with blankets and a small dresser are the only things in the room other than a freshly pressed white uniform hanging on the wall. One look in the mirror and I barely recognize myself. Under the bright sterile lights, dressed in nothing but a hospital cover, my skin stands out, golden hued against all the penetrating whiteness around me. My naturally reddish brown hair is shiny, glossy even, like it’s been washed and treated with those high-end products that are splattered on all the sides of the buildings in the city, the very ones the royals themselves endorse. Even the ever-present bags under my eyes have disappeared, replaced by dewy, supple skin. I look…

Pretty.

Glancing around, I make sure I am well and truly alone before I disrobe. I know they’ll be back eventually to collect me, whoevertheyare.

Privacy is a luxury now. There is no such thing as privacy for me anymore.

Looking at my nude form, I am rather surprised to see that I look nearly the same in shape, but my skin is different. Smoother, cleaner. My left side doesn’t look robotic, but I knowthe skin that covers it isn’t entirely mine, from the faint shine beneath the surface. Still, on the surface, it is hard to tell where the silicone starts and where my skin ends, the texture being almost identical. The only difference is where there is machinery, the silicone is cold to the touch, and there is a metallic sheen where my veins should be, and where my flesh lays over natural born muscle, it is warm.

I let my hands travel over my skin, relishing in the feel of my newly altered body as reality set in.

“This is mine,” I whispered to myself, to the empty space.

“No matter what happens, this will always be mine.” I promise myself no matter what happens next in the coming days, no matter how long it takes for me to get into a closet, no matter how many times one of these alien asshats takes me for a ride, that when all is said and done, this body, soul, and mind belong to me.

I will let them in, let them take me over.

And then I will destroy them one by one.

Chapter Four

---