Page 86 of Alien Prince

I should have known better than to ask her to dance. The moment I touched her, the moment her warmth seeped into me through that ridiculous Earthling dress she insists on wearing, I knew I’d made a mistake.

Her movements were hesitant at first, her steps unsure, but she adapted quickly, just as she has with everything else. And when she began to move with me, her body fitting against mine like it belonged there, I felt it—like the air between us was alive, charged with something I couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore.

She looked up at me, her wide, questioning eyes catching the light of the hall, and I forgot myself. Forgot who I was. Forgot everything except the way she felt in my arms.

I stop pacing, planting my hands on the edge of the nearest table and bowing my head.

This cannot happen.

Emily is an Earthling. She’s not part of my world, no matter how well she’s managed to adapt. She is here because the vesselbrought her, nothing more. A tool of tradition, a means to secure the throne.

It failed once again.

Or did it?

Her laughter, her wit, the fire in her eyes when she challenges me—it’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. She is not weak. She is not timid. She is a storm wrapped in softness, and I am a fool for letting myself be caught in her orbit.

I told myself I brought her to the dinner to test her, to see how she would fare among the elite. And she did well—better than I expected, even as the others tried to tear her down with their words. But that wasn’t why I asked her to dance.

I wanted her close.

The truth hits me like a blow, and I shove myself away from the table, anger rising in my chest. I am a prince, the heir to Erythos, bound by duty and tradition. I cannot afford this… distraction.

Emily’s presence is dangerous, not just because of what she is but because of what she makes me feel.

And yet, even as I stand here, trying to banish her from my thoughts, I can still feel the warmth of her in my arms, hear the soft catch of her breath when I pulled her closer.

I want her.

The admission burns, raw and unrelenting, and I grip the edge of the table again, my nails digging into the polished surface.

But want is not enough.

She is not part of my future, not in the way my heart foolishly insists she could be. She is a complication, a disruption to the order I’ve fought so hard to maintain.

I have to push her away, for her sake as much as mine.

But even as I make the decision, I know it’s a lie.

Because no matter how much I fight it, no matter how many walls I try to build between us, I cannot stop wanting her.

And I hate myself for it.

I head out to stand on the balcony of my private chamber, staring out at the sprawling city below. The lights of Erythos shimmer against the dark sky, a breathtaking sight that should bring me peace. But tonight, it doesn’t.

I cannot stop thinking about Emily.

She’s unlike anyone the vessel has ever brought before—bold, quick-witted, compassionate in ways that are both frustrating and disarming. She doesn’t grovel or beg for my approval like the others did. Instead, she questions everything, challenging me, my people, and our traditions at every turn.

And I can’t send her away.

I’ve done it before—rejected the women the vessel chose, sent them back to their home worlds with nothing but my apologies. It was always an easy decision. They weren’t fit for this life, this kingdom. And it wasn’t their fault; they simply didn’t belong.

But Emily… I can’t bring myself to do the same with her.

It’s not just her resilience or the way she’s managed to navigate the complexities of my world. It’s the rebellion stirring at the edges of the kingdom, the whispers of discontent growing louder by the day. My people demand stability, a future they can trust. And the council is watching my every move, waiting for me to secure the throne with a queen at my side.

Replacing Emily would be seen as a sign of weakness, indecision. Another woman in her stead could disrupt the fragile balance I’ve managed to maintain.

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