Page 59 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
The six-legged behemoth shuffles forward, its circular maw a horrifying vortex of grinding teeth. Its eyestalks swivel independently, their dull, black surfaces fixing on Mareliux with unsettling precision. Despite its bulk, there’s a coiled tension in its movements, a sense that it can unleash surprising speed.
Mareliux shifts his stance, Bellatriz held low and steady. The firelight glints off the clear blade, a fragile barrier between us and the monster. The air thickens with a reptilian stench, just like from the dead one.
The dinosaur lunges with unexpected swiftness. Its six legs churn, propelling its massive body forward in a surprisingly agile rush. Mareliux sidesteps the initial charge. The air whistles as the creature’s clawed limbs swipe where he was moments before. I swear the ground is shaking.
The barricade we made isn’t much good against this. The monster simply walks right through the logs, shoving them aside with its body.
“Umbra, the pod!” Mareliux grunts, his features tight with concentration as he parries a snapping bite from the circular gape.
Sparks fly as Bellatriz meets the creature’s hide. A dull, scraping sound indicates the metal-like resistance. Those plates are some kind of natural armor.
I can see the strain in Mareliux’s arms as he struggles to keep the monstrous jaws at bay. The dinosaur’s sheer weight and relentless attacks are pushing him back, step by agonizing step.Its eyestalks twitch, following his every move and reacting to them so fast it seems like it’s reading his mind. The churning teeth seem eager to tear him apart.
Fear begins to claw at me, through the fog of the alien drugs. This isn’t some lumbering beast. It’s fast and powerful. Those teeth are a nightmare made real. Mareliux is a skilled fighter, but where will he even begin to attack this thing? Its defenses seem impenetrable.
Another lunge, faster this time. Mareliux barely manages to deflect the snapping jaws, the force of the impact rocking him. I see a flicker of desperation in his features. He needs an opening, and he needs it now. We’ve now backed off so far that my back is against the open hatch of my pod, and the stench of the dead raptor is filling my nose.
My frustration with my own powerlessness surges. The Syntrix is there, a tingling warmth beneath my skin, but still so difficult to direct with precision. But seeing Mareliux in such peril… something snaps.
I focus, not on a twig or a pebble, but on the creature itself. I picture its bizarre, stalked eyes, those dull black orbs that track Mareliux with such deadly intent.Distract it! Look away!I pour my raw, untamed Syntrix into the command, a mental shout powered by desperation.
The effect is immediate, if inelegant. The dinosaur’s left eyestalk spasms violently. Its eye swivels wildly in its socket. The creature lets out a guttural bellow, its attention momentarily diverted by the sudden, bizarre sensation. Its movements falter, and its powerful legs stumble for a fraction of a crucial second.
“Now, Mareliux!” I yell.
But I needn’t have bothered telling him. He’s already moving, because that sliver of an opening is all he needs. With a roar of his own, Mareliux lunges forward, his blade a silver blur in the firelight as he plunges it hard straight at the creature’s armor. Only when it sinks in to the hilt do I realize that he aimed for the crack where two thick plates meet.
A horrific shriek comes from the dinosaur’s circular maw, a sound that vibrates in my very bones. Thick, dark fluid erupts around Mareliux’s sword as he pulls it out.
He gets ready for another cut into the monster, but instead he takes a step back and just watches.
The creature thrashes wildly, its six legs kicking and scrabbling, its eyestalks rolling back and forth in fury and agony. Then, with a shuddering sigh that sounds like air escaping a punctured bellows, it turns its double tail to us and lumbers off into the night. The ground shakes with each of its steps until it’s gone.
Mareliux holds Bellatriz loosely with one hand, letting the dark blood drip from the blade’s tip. “Was that you?” His eyes flash.
“Just a distraction,” I tell him, hoping he’s not mad. “To get you to finish the fight, not just play with that poor thing.”
He wipes Bellatriz on a handful of leaves. “I wasn’t playing with it. I was fighting for my life. It’s different from fighting a thinking enemy. They are predictable. This monster didn’t so much think as act on instinct. And it was fast. I had no idea what it was going to do.”
I love how honest he’s being. It speaks of integrity and strength. He knows who he is. “It was no match for you. If you didn’t have to worry about me, you would have beaten it sooner.”
He gives off a dry laugh. “Umbra, there’s no need to try to stroke my ego. I was in trouble here, and I don’t mind admitting it. Without your well-timed help, I don’t know that we would have won. That was a very smart move you made. This victory isours, not just mine.”
I walk up to him and look up into his clear eyes. “There are times, Prince, when I almost wish you were my husband for real.”
He replaces Bellatriz in the scabbard. “Really? Is this one of those times?”
I reach out with the Syntrix and twirl one of his tendrils. “Maybe.”
An invisible force grabs my hand. It’s Mareliux’s Syntrix, dragging my hand to his so he can pull me close. “I could say the same, except I wouldn’t say ‘almost’.”
His words make a light go off in my mind. “Then I won’t say it, either.” I let my Syntrix drop down his front, sensing the strength of his muscles and the smoothness of his skin, until it reaches his abdomen. “I’m glad you didn’t kill that thing.”
“It wasn’t necessary,” he says, one hand lightly caressing my cheeks. “I don’t particularly enjoy killing. There’s been so much of it.” He lifts my chin and bends his neck to kiss me.
I let my Syntrix follow the deep groove of muscle down to his belt, then over the fabric of his pants to his massive, straining bulge. “I also prefer life to death.”
He looks me up and down. “How are you feeling?”
