Page 71 of Alien Prince

A low, commanding voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “You are awake. Good.”

I spin toward the sound, my heart slamming against my ribs. The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“W-Who… Where am I?” I stammer, clutching the slippery fabric of my dress like it’s some kind of shield. “What is this place?”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence that feels heavy with judgment. “You are on Erythos,” the voice answers. “You have been chosen by the matchmaking vessel to meet your destined mate.”

My breath hitches. “What?”

Another pause, and then the voice delivers the final blow. “You are to meet the prince.”

The prince? What prince? My legs threaten to give out beneath me, and I grab the edge of a nearby table to steady myself. This has to be some kind of dream—or a nightmare. But the throbbing in my head and the cool, metallic scent of the air tell me it’s all horrifyingly real.

Before I can ask another question, the wall in front of me shimmers and disappears, revealing a towering figure silhouetted in the doorway.

And then my world shifts again.

Chapter Two

Kael

The council chamber is oppressively silent as I sit at the head of the long obsidian table, my fingers drumming a sharp rhythm against the cool surface. The room reeks of tradition. Every carved pillar, every glowing emblem of my ancestors screams at me to follow in their footsteps. Duty above all else. Responsibility before desire. It’s a mantra I’ve known my entire life, yet I’ve never found it more suffocating than in this moment.

“The matchmaking vessel has returned, Your Highthos,” Elder Veyar announces, his voice a brittle echo in the chamber. “It has chosen your bride.”

My drumming stops. “Chosen my bride?” I repeat, my tone sharper than intended. A few council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, but I don’t care. “I did not request this, and thus far, the vessel has failed me time and again.”

“The vessel doesn’t wait for requests,” Veyar says, his tone laced with the kind of false patience that grates on me. “It acts on behalf of the throne.”

I grit my teeth. I should have expected this. The ancient traditions that bind my people are as relentless as they are outdated. For centuries, the matchmaking vessel has plucked women from distant worlds, parading them as destined queens for Erythos. This one, I assume, is no different.

“She is from Earth,” Veyar continues, the word dropping like a stone into the silence.

I freeze, disbelief twisting into irritation. “An Earthling?” I spit the word like a curse. “You mean to tell me the vessel traveled across galaxies to bring back one ofthem?”

Another council member clears her throat. “Earthlings are genetically compatible, and the vessel deemed this woman a suitable match.”

“Suitable,” I echo, my voice cold. “The vessel has chosen weak, pliant creatures before. This will be no different.” I lean back in my chair, the sharp edges of my armor biting into my skin. “Do not mistake my tolerance for agreement. I will meet her, but only to appease this ridiculous ritual.”

A murmur ripples through the council, but none dare challenge me. They know better.

I stand abruptly, the scrape of my chair loud against the polished floor. “Have her brought to the observation chamber,” I command, turning on my heel. “If I must endure this farce, let it begin now.”

As I stride down the gilded hallways of the palace, my jaw tightens. An Earthling. A fragile, primitive creature. No doubt she will cower before me, her fear as plain as the weakness I expect to see in her. This isn’t the queen I need, and certainly not the one I want.

But if she proves herself unworthy, I will not hesitate to send her back. Destiny be damned.

As I stride down the gilded hallways of the palace, the weight of my duty presses harder against my shoulders than ever. Myfather’s condition worsens with each passing day, his once-commanding presence now a shadow of its former self. The king who once led our people with unyielding strength is now confined to his chamber, weakened by an illness even our most advanced healers cannot cure.

I know this is why the vessel was sent out. I don’t need anyone to tell me. They see his decline as a signal, a ticking clock counting down to the day I take the throne. And of course, in their eyes, the throne cannot be occupied by a single ruler. A queen must sit beside me, bearing heirs to secure the royal bloodline.

I clench my fists as my steps echo through the golden corridor. I almost wish I were of a different alien race, one that lacked these cursed matchmaking vessels and their relentless interference. The vessel is supposed to be a sacred tradition, a gift from our ancestors to ensure the continuation of Erythos’s royal line, but to me, it’s nothing more than an ancient chain, binding me to expectations I never asked for.

My jaw tightens as the thought of my so-called “match” flashes through my mind. An Earthling. Of all the possibilities, the vessel brought back one of them. Primitive. Weak. Likely terrified of this world and the responsibility they think she’s meant to bear. What good can an Earthling possibly bring to Erythos? To me?

The vessel has already brought other possible brides for me, and I declined them all for one reason or another. I doubt this one will measure up either.

I pause at the doorway to the observation chamber, my hand hovering over the control panel. For a brief moment, I hesitate, the flicker of doubt whispering in my mind. What if she’s not what I expect?

---