Page 29 of Tricked By the Alien Prince

“I don’t blame you for dumping me into the hot springs,” I try to clarify, pushing aside the dark thoughts. “I survived thanks to you.”

But did everything survive? My hands drift to my pocket. With shaking fingers, I slide out my beloved tablet.

“Is it still working?” Volan asks, eyes watching me closely. “I didn’t think about the water… I’m sorry.”

I press down on the button, and the screen lights up. A sigh of relief escapes to see that it’s still functioning. To lose it would feel like losing a limb. It’s as much a part of me as my heart or soul.

“It works,” I tell him, shoulders loosening. “Technically, the manufacturer claims it’s waterproof to something like 100 feet in depth, but I’ve never been brave enough to actually test that.”

Even on Earth when it was more easily replaced, I hadn’t tested it. I’d been so afraid that my secret would have been discovered and that I would lose the one thing I hold so close to my heart. And now, on planet Atraxis… It’s not like it can be easily repaired out here in the middle of nowhere.

“The devices are rare,” Volan states. The way he glances at it only proves my suspicion that I’m not going to get a new one any time soon.

I follow him, shoes squelching and skirt sticking to my legs, as he leads me from the cavern we are in. Back to endless tunnels, rock pressing down on me from all sides.

“Back home, you could probably get a tablet like this from every corner shop,” I tell him. My tablet’s not anything particularly fancy. It’s actually kind of old. I’ve updated the RAM, replaced the hard drive with something bigger… but it’s not like it’s the latest model or anything. Not anymore.

He raises a brow, and I realize that despite my words, I’m clutching the metal rectangle to my chest like my life depends on it.

“It’s got sentimental value,” I explain to him as we walk. My throat feels tight, like the words are hard to voice. Even now, it feels hard to talk about it. “My mother gave it to me before she… passed.”

Did I ever give myself time to grieve her loss, I wonder? I don’t remember crying for her, at least not after her death. Things were too hectic, my life thrown into utter chaos.

At Volan’s silence, I blurt out, “She had cancer.”

My cheeks flare with heat, as I struggle to not feel so embarrassed. This is one of those awkward situations that I never know how much information is too much. Like does he even care about how she died? Whenever someone says they lost a loved one, others are curious, right? They just don’t want to upset you by asking how they died. That would be insensitive, after all.

To be honest, I don’t even know why I’m telling him. It’s not like I’ve ever told anyone before, not even my friends back at Eve’s Rest know. My past was always that—something I did my best to leave behind. It’s just… it’s always on my mind. The more I tried to forget about it, the worse it haunted me.

Am I a horrible person for not crying after my mother was gone? I watched over her for so long. I knew she was dying for a long time. Maybe that’s why I never cried for her, I think; I had time to prepare for that moment.

“She was sick a long time,” I explain. My mind returns to all those nights that I would sit beside her, watching over her as she drifted in and out of sleep. “She read to me when I was a child, so it only made sense that I read to her as an adult. It was a passion we shared together.” It was a passion I kept alive after. The one thing connecting me to her.

“Losing a progenitor is a hard thing,” Volan muses. “I too lost my mother, but that was at my birth. I do not remember her at all.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, sharing a commiserating smile. The pain is gone, left behind by this hollow ache that you are missing something in your life. You never fully heal, but you get to a point where you can move on, given enough time. And even then, you still have moments when you just expect to see them out of the corner of your eye.

Given that we are both dressed again, Volan leads me to the entrance and back out into the tunnels, our conversation pausing only for us to slip through the crack in the cave wall.

“At least you have her gift to remember her by,” Volan comments, looking over his shoulder at me. “I am very glad it was not destroyed by the water.”

“It wasn’t a gift,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. I huff in annoyance. The desire to talk to him is overwhelming. It’s like when I’m around him, everything I’ve kept bottled up inside is suddenly flowing out. All those walls I’ve erected, and he just casually knocks them down.

Coming to a standstill, I glare at my boot, scuffing the small rocks on the floor as I try to get my racing mind under control. Why am I acting like this? I’m used to being anxious, that fluttering of my heart that has tingles running throughout my limbs, but this right now… I’m all over the place. Sad, angry, frustrated, overwhelmed… I’m a jumble of emotions, and they are all desperate to escape. Why, of all things, do I want to talk to him about my past, about everything? Is it because we had sex? It was just sex! It didn’t mean anything…

I look up at Volan, who’s stopped only a few steps away. He watches me with a raised brow, his lips slightly curled. Everything about him looks so carefree. Something about him pushes and prods at me. He infuriates me. He draws me in like no one has ever done before.

“You can tell me if you want,” Volan says, voice quiet. “You can trust me.”

I’m so screwed, because the thing is… I really, really want to trust him.

Sometimes in life, we have to make a choice; to continue as we are, or to forge a new path. I’m unhappy—I have been for a long time, I realize—and I can continue this way, or I can take a leap and define a new me.

I’m scared, but fear doesn’t need to stop me. It doesn’t define me. I’ve been hurt in the past, but it isn’t fair to treat Volan with the same suspicion.

“I do,” I breathe, the sacred words a soft whisper from my trembling lips. “I trust you.”

And as I stare up at the male standing before me, eyes and skin burning an iridescent glow, I realize that I’ve been waiting for him to enter my life for so, so long. He’s my hope, shining bright.

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