Page 77 of Alien Prince

He tilts his head slightly, his expression almost lazy. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Why does that bother you?” he asks, his tone low, almost a purr.

I open my mouth then close it again, completely at a loss for a reply. His question shouldn’t feel like a challenge, but it does, and the heat rising in my cheeks has nothing to do with the rain or the cramped space.

“I—”

Another crack of thunder interrupts me, louder this time, and I flinch despite myself. Kael’s gaze softens, and I hate how that fleeting kindness twists something deep inside me.

“This storm will pass,” he says quietly, his voice steady and calm. “And when it does, I suggest you reconsider wandering into places you cannot navigate.”

I bristle at his tone, but the way he shifts slightly closer, as if to shield me from the rain’s chill, makes it hard to focus on being annoyed. Instead, I’m acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him, the way his presence seems to fill the space entirely.

The tension between us is palpable, a charged silence that neither of us dares to break. I don’t know what to do with it, this pull I feel toward him despite every instinct telling me to resist.

I glance up at him, and our eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze stealing the breath from my lungs.

And then, just as quickly, he looks away, his expression hardening once more.

“Rest,” he says abruptly, his voice curt. “You’ll need it.”

I press my lips together, biting back the retort that rises to my tongue. Instead, I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, and try not to think about the way his presence seems to set every nerve in my body alight.

This storm can’t end soon enough.

There’s barely enough room for me to sit, let alone lie down. The walls press in on me, damp and cold, and the steady roar of the storm outside is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.

I hug my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. The rain doesn’t just fall. It lashes against the stone like it’s trying to tear it apart. The occasional crack of thunder is so loud it feels like it’s shaking the shelter, and every muscle in my body is wound tight.

Then it happens.

A deafeningboomsplits the air, louder and sharper than anything I’ve ever heard, accompanied by a flash of light so bright it momentarily fills the cramped space. It’s not thunder. It’s something else, something alien and terrifying.

I shriek, pressing myself back against the wall, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. Memories of being a little girl, hiding under a blanket during thunderstorms, come rushing back, but this isn’t the same. This storm is alive, wild, and completely unlike those on Earth.

In one swift motion, Kael’s beside me, his strong arms wrapping around my shuddering frame. I stiffen, startled by the contact, but his grip is firm and steady, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my dress.

“Emily,” he says softly, his voice calm and low. “It’s just a storm.”

“Just a storm?” I choke out, my voice trembling. “That sounded like the sky wasexploding.”

“It’s an energy storm,” he explains, his tone even, as if that’s supposed to make it better. “They’re rare but harmless if you’re sheltered.”

Harmless? My heart is racing, my breath coming in shallow gasps, and all I can think about is how fragile this little stone structure feels compared to the raw power raging outside.

I try to pull away, embarrassed by my reaction, but he doesn’t let go. His hands are firm yet careful, holding me close like he’s anchoring me to reality. “Breathe,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re safe.”

I don’t know why, but the steadiness of his voice breaks through the panic clouding my thoughts. I focus on the warmth of his body, the way his arms seem to shield me from the storm outside, and slowly—so slowly—my breathing starts to even out.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Storms…” I manage, my voice barely a whisper. “They’ve always scared me.”

I expect him to mock me, to point out how ill-prepared I am for a life in his world, but instead, he pulls me closer. His chin rests lightly atop my head, and his grip tightens just enough to feel protective, not restricting.

“This one will pass,” he says, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “I’m here.

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