Page 79 of Alien Prince's Claim

It was not the action of a creature as terrible as the one Yaltah described.

It got me thinking about the prejudices back on Earth.

Just because you were descended from a certain culture or people — or even family — did not mean you would wind up the same.

It was not right to judge someone by their heritage.

I wished to speak with Yaltah about it but I could see he was already stuck in his thought process.

He would not trust Cayah, no matter what I said.

Only action could prove that.

I felt confident everything Cayah had told us was true, that he really did have a ship, that it really did have a Reflector — whatever that was — and that we really could escape from this place.

What concerned me more was ensuring Yaltah didn’t tear off the guy’s head before we even had a chance to escape!

Yaltah paced back and forth, constantly glaring at Cayah, who paid no attention to him.

His attention was evenly split between his mate and the walls that he expected to crack at any moment.

I shared his concern and couldn’t help but shudder each time I heard the scratch-scratch or thumping at the walls.

I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off it.

I wanted nothing more than to mate with Yaltah, fearing this might well be the very last time we could be together.

Even as drawn to him as I was, I couldn’t quite bring myself to mate in front of others.

And when the creatures finally managed to breach the walls, my body shifted into survival mode.

Cayah grabbed the sofa his mate was lying on and gently dragged it to one side.

His mate still did not move a muscle.

I began to worry that perhaps there was something more serious wrong with her than Cayah was letting on, but I wouldn’t let that concern me now.

Then Cayah grabbed a ragged old carpet and yanked it aside, sending up a billowing cloud of dust.

Cayah immediately dropped to his knees and spun a wheel on the floor.

He had to brace it with both his legs and, finally, after much puffing and wheezing, it gave.

Thunk!

For a moment, my heart was in my throat as I thought it had snapped in his hands the way it had earlier in Yaltah’s palms.

Instead, he continued to spin the wheel.

Gradually, it loosened, until he could just slap it with his hand, turning it faster and faster like a roulette wheel.

It bounced, having come to the end of its spin lock.

He bent down, grabbed a metal handle, braced his weight once more with his legs, and yanked it up.

Yaltah leapt forward as Cayah struggled with it and together, they laid it down.

Yaltah immediately dropped onto his front and stuck his head through the hole.

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