Page 102 of Alien Prince

He nods.

I narrow my eyes, the knot in my chest tightening. “Names. Places. Anything.”

The guard nods, grimacing as he speaks. “I think the leader is Nyran. I overheard one of them call out his name. He’s been rallying support in the southern provinces for months, preying on discontent. I’ve heard whispers of his stronghold, hidden deep in the Sareth Wastes.”

Nyran. The name rings familiar. He’s been a thorn in my side for far too long, but I never thought he was behind the coup.

“He took Emily.” I clench my fingers into fists. I’ll kill him myself.

“I tried to… I’m sorry,” the guard says quietly, his gaze dropping.

“Rest,” I tell him, my tone clipped as I turn toward the exit. “You’ve done well.”

He nods weakly, and I stride from the room, the fire in my chest building with every step.

Nyran. The Sareth Wastes.

It won’t take long to find him.

I summon my top strategists, laying out the information I’ve gathered. Their protests about the dangers of storming the rebel stronghold fall on deaf ears.

“This is not a discussion,” I say coldly, silencing the room. “Emily is their prisoner, and they intend to use her against me. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“But, Your Highthos,” one of them ventures cautiously, “if you charge in, they may harm her to send a message. We must tread carefully.”

I pause. As much as I hate to admit it, they’re right. Recklessness could cost her life.

“Then we’ll strike with precision,” I say after a moment, my voice steady and commanding. “We infiltrate the stronghold, retrieve Emily, and dismantle Nyran’s operation from within.”

The room is silent, but I see the nods of agreement. Plans are set in motion, the best operatives assembled for the mission.

As the final details are confirmed, I retreat to my chamber to prepare. My armor gleams under the dim light, each piece a reminder of the duty I carry.

But this mission is not just for the crown.

It’s for her.

I fasten the last piece of my armor, my jaw tight. Emily is out there, in the hands of those who seek to harm her, to use her against me.

But they underestimate her. They underestimate me.

I will find her. I will bring her back.

And Nyran will regret the day he dared to touch what is mine.

The air in the Sareth Wastes is heavy with heat and dust, the rugged terrain providing natural cover as my guards and I move silently toward the rebel stronghold. The structure looms ahead, a haphazard fortress carved into the rocky cliffs, its defenses meant to repel armies—not precision strikes.

But armies don’t move with the desperation I feel now.

Every step toward the stronghold sharpens my focus, my mind consumed with one thought: Emily.

She’s here, and if they’ve hurt her—

I push the thought aside, clenching my fists as we reach the outer wall. The guards I trust most move swiftly, disabling the sentries with quiet efficiency. The adrenaline surging through me is tempered only by the iron control I’ve honed over years of leadership.

This isn’t just a rescue. It’s a reckoning.

We slip inside the stronghold, navigating the dimly lit corridors with precision. The rebels are organized but overconfident, their defenses lacking against a strike this calculated.

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