Page 13 of Alien Prince

She shouldn't be able to control this body so freely while I'm attached. There are memory flashes, hundreds of moments that are not mine speeding across my consciousness, spilling into my memory as if they belong, spreading like ink in a glass of water, tarnishing my own.

“Do your guards always carry giant guns so haphazardly?” she asks, her voice a hushed whisper as we pass one of my family's guards carrying a laser rifle. I don't recognize him, so hemust be new. Then again I don't bother to learn anyone’s names anymore. The turnover of guards and servants here is ever-present.

Finally, I concede, ignoring her question and leading us through an opening into another darkened corridor, the air there stale and cold. Gemini's fear teases the edges of my consciousness, and I have half a mind to soothe her, calm her. The distinct inherent desire to earn her trust is maddening.

I’ve never felt such a desire for any of my skins.

Just a little further, I say, hoping it helps ease her worry enough as we arrive at a doorway I am more familiar with. It leads us into an abandoned alleyway behind the palace. At one time these hallways used to be for servants, but after an attack nearly twenty-five years ago, they've been off limits and boarded up since.

Unless you are skilled at breaking and entering, that is. Which happens to be a talent not many know I possess. After all, such criminal things would reflect badly upon the royal family.

“So, this is how you sneak out?” she asks, and I exhale, closing our—my eyes, letting the sticky air kiss my frigid skin—our frigid skin.

There are many guards and people who would rather see a royal dead than alive. We have many secrets.

No kidding.

And I shouldn't have heard that. I shouldn't hear any of her thoughts as clearly as I do, as if she is speaking them aloud. All the signs are clear that there is a reason, one I am not ready to deal with. Too much is at risk if she is truly my mate.

My pulse quickens at the thought of her being mine forever, insane since I have no idea who she is other than some cyborg who was tossed into my closet, one who I was told not to possess. What did she do to deserve this kind of servitude? Who is she? What does my mother know that she isn’t telling us?

I know as I feel the wall weaken, that Gemini absolutely cannot stay. The danger of even having a mate within the palace walls, near my mother—I don't need to have someone my wretched parents can use against me.

Using such a sacred bond against me, tormenting us both.

Perhaps that is why she advised me against this skin. Perhaps she knows more than she is letting on… as usual.

In any case, I see that as all the more reason to dismiss Gemini from my use.

Which means she'll never know the truth, and that itself is bittersweet. With my mind made up that Gemini must leave, I decide to take her to the one place someone could disappear into. I decide to let her go, to release her back into the sea where she belongs. Away from me.

“You think too much, Ronny.” Gemini breaks through my melancholy thoughts. “And you’re hurting my head with how many fucking languages you think in.”

My head—our head—whose head is it right now? I ask, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Yours, obviously. You're the one thinking too much,” she responds as the corners of her mouth gently tug up to grin.

Chapter Eight

Kyron

“A nightclub? Really, Ronny?” Gemini asks in disdain, our gaze drifting around at the dimly lit space. Loud music bumps from the live synth band in the corner, the air slightly warm from the amount of bodies crammed in the main lounge. I can't help but smirk. The putrid smell of alcohol, bodily fluids, and sin swirling around us usually is a calming experience for me. In the chaos, the noise, I can blend in; dissolve into the desire that plagues these human skins. It’s less chaotic, despite the crowd, for me to relax and think freely without distraction. Here in the shadows of these hallways, under the neon, there are no expectations, no responsibility to uphold some stupid tradition. Here, I can just… exist.

I try to get a read on Gemini’s reaction, but she’s put up another flimsy barrier between our minds, effectively keeping her thoughts a murky low whisper from me and I find that more than irritating.

Does this bother you?I ask, if only to garner some semblance of how she’s feeling, and what her emotional state is. It’s difficult to tell when I can’t hear her, when she isn’t speaking out loud with bite and venom.

“It’s not really my style,” she says, her voice low.

I notice that while she keeps me from accessing her thoughts, I seem to have free use of our body for the moment.

Now I know she can’t focus on blocking me from both at the same time. That I can use.

I need to provoke her, to instill fear in her so that she not only resists me, but also provides me with an excuse for one of my skins to disappear. I hope that pretty little Gemini will grasp my implication as I approach a random dragonkin soldier at the bar, lean in close, and whisper in Gemini's voice, “Buy me a drink?”

I anticipate that she will falter and be outraged by such a request, at the use of my dismantling her autonomy, but instead, I am met with a loathing grunt. I do not sense disgust in her, only pity.

Don’t embarrass yourself, Ronny,she chastises. Her scoff is somehow both refreshing and annoying as hell.

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