Page 76 of Alien Prince

“Lost, are we?”

The deep, familiar voice makes my stomach drop. I peek through the leaves, and sure enough, there he is—Kael, the alien prince himself, standing tall and imperious, his silver skin shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Of course, it’s him.

“I could have sworn the palace wasn’t so large as to disorient even an Earthling,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement.

I grit my teeth, stepping out from behind the plant. “I wasn’t lost,” I lie, trying to keep my voice steady.

His lips curl into a faint smirk. “No? Then you’re just wandering the gardens at night for the sheer joy of it?”

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “Maybe I wanted some fresh air. Is that a crime here?”

Kael takes a step closer, his violet eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Not a crime,” he says softly, “but it is… suspicious.”

The way he looks at me sends a shiver down my spine—not with fear but something far more unsettling.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I say, my voice firmer now, though my heart races in my chest.

He studies me for a long moment, his smirk fading into something unreadable. “You should return to the palace,” he says finally. “The gardens can be… dangerous at night.”

I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a challenge, but either way, I know I’ve been caught.

The glowing plants sway in a sudden breeze, their soft light flickering like a warning. I glance up, startled by the sharp shift in the air. The once-clear sky has turned dark, heavy clouds rolling in fast.

“Wonderful,” I mutter under my breath. Now it looks like I’m about to get caught in an alien storm.

“It seems survival is not your strong suit, little Earthling.” His deep voice sends a jolt through my body.

I glower at the alien prince. Kael stands there, impossibly calm and infuriatingly smug, as if he’s been watching me stumble through the garden for hours. Which, knowing him, he probably has.

I plant my hands on my hips, glaring up at him. “I don’t need your commentary, thanks. My survival isn’t in doubt.”

Is it? What if he knows I was trying to leave and that’s a punishable offense? Do they believe in the death penalty?

His violet eyes gleam, the faintest smirk curling his lips. “Wandering aimlessly into the heart of the gardens without a plan is the hallmark of competence.”

“Maybe I like wandering,” I snap, crossing my arms. The sharp edge of his amusement only makes me dig in harder. “Not everything has to be about survival or strategy, you know.”

A low rumble of thunder rolls through the air, cutting off whatever retort he was about to deliver. I glance up again, and my stomach twists as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall.

Kael sighs, his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Come,” he says, gesturing toward a narrow path to the right. “There’s shelter this way.”

For a moment, I hesitate. My instinct is to argue, to tell him I don’t need his help, but another roll of thunder—closer this time—quickly kills that impulse. With a resigned huff, I follow him, the rain quickly turning into a downpour.

By the time we reach the small stone shelter tucked into the side of the garden, I’m soaked to the bone. The fabric of my dress clings to me uncomfortably, and I can feel my hair sticking to my face in damp strands. Kael, of course, looks completely unbothered, as if alien storms don’t have the audacity to drench him.

I squeeze into the narrow space, the walls pressing close on either side. Kael ducks slightly to fit, his presence filling the small shelter in a way that makes it impossible to ignore him.

“You seem unprepared,” he says, his tone almost conversational, though I can hear the teasing undercurrent. “Surely your planet has storms.”

I roll my eyes, wringing out the hem of my dress. “Yes, we have storms. And rain. And smug aliens who think they know everything.”

His lips twitch, and he leans back against the wall, watching me with those intense violet eyes that seem to see far more than I want to reveal.

The shelter feels smaller by the second, his proximity making the air seem heavier. I try to focus on the sound of the rain, the rhythmic patter against the stone, but it’s impossible to ignore him—the warmth of his body just a few inches from mine, the way his gaze lingers on me, unreadable and yet… something.

“You’re staring,” I say.

---