Page 2 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

The entire apartment was actually a waste of space. For me anyway. Perhaps a family of four would have been happy here, or somebody who held frequent parties. I had and did neither.

A familiar, lonely sting poked my heart, but I ignored it. I learned a long time ago to ignore it and move on from feelings of abandonment and loneliness. At my age, it was simply self-inflicted.

I tried to make friends, just like I tried to kiss or have sex. But the sad truth was I just didn't click with anybody. Never had. There were days I didn't even feel human.

A quick trip to a therapist had provided the explanation that it stemmed from my abandonment issues, blah, blah, blah, but at twenty-four, it was me and me alone who was responsible for my life and self-induced loneliness.

When I entered the bathroom, one of the backlit mirrors turned into a TV screen, picking up the channel I last watched in the bedroom.

Speakers in the shower allowed me to follow their conversation as warm water rushed down on me. I set it so it felt as if I were standing under a heavy rain shower today enjoying the water pressure which in this building—a one-hundred-and-eighty floor high rise my father had built—was simply out of this world even here on the top floor.

Whatever else my father might be, he was a gifted architect and engineer. A visionary. This building, the apex of his career so far, reminded me more of a structure you might see in a sci-fi movie or imagined to be on an alien planet than here on Earth. It had already won so many awards, and was constantly mentioned and featured in TV shows, books, and magazines, that it bordered on ridiculous.

The smallest unit on the lowest floor cost eight million dollars. My penthouse? If I had to buy it, it would have easily brought in half a billion dollars. But that was the perk of having neglectful, divorced parents, they always showered me with expensive gifts. Money had never been a problem. If money had equaled love, I would have been the most smothered daughter in the universe.

The professor's voice penetrated my musings and I listened.

"… it's hard to say how much mayhem actually took place in the thirteenth century after Chiron passed by, Eva," Dr. Sean Weinstein continued. "A lot of superstition occurred at that time, it happened at the height of the witch-burning era in Europe."

"We discovered documents hinting at a mass burning of witches just the day…"

My boss's voice was forgotten, when I became aware of the water hitting my skin and the tingling sensation my loofah aroused when I ran it over my flesh. For some reason my body was becoming hypersensitive, each touch caused ripples that moved through me like a current. Each touch seemed to reverberate from one nerve ending to another.

I closed my eyes and moisture built behind my eyelids. First one, then another tear rolled down my cheeks, mixing and hardly noticeable with the spray of water from above. But I cried. Cried for the sensations running through me, sensations I had longed to experience for twenty four years—well that's probably an exaggeration, since I didn't know what I was lacking at four, eight, hell, not even at twelve years old. Either way, you get my point.

Withonearmslungover my face and keeping the other underneath my head as a pillow, I drifted in that world between dreaming and awakening.Hervision still danced in front of my eyes.Her, the girl that had haunted my dreams ever since I could remember.

An ache for her spread through my chest, which otherwise remained as still, as always. No heart beat beneath the hard walls of muscles and ribs. And yet I sensed a faint echo inside my hollow chest, an echo that was always there when I woke after dreaming ofher.

My cock was hard and twitching like a snake, seeking entrance into a soft opening that wasn't there.

It would be mere hours now until we reached Adama—a planet the inhabitants called Earth—hours until Behlial would unleash his hell on the unsuspecting citizens. His gargoyles would go in first, followed by our nobles, guards, and I suspected some of the princes would want to join thefun.

Disgusted, I closed my eyes, I wanted no part in this. None.

The door hissing open made me turn once again and I watched Calliope walking in.Without waiting for my invitation, I noticed,again. Her hair fell to one side, baring her long neck as an offering and I swallowed as saliva built in my mouth at the sight, making me forget her small transgression.

It had been quite some time since I last drank from her, my dotissima—donor. I didn't like doing so even though it was freely given by her. Too freely, as she had offered the rest of her body to me even more frequently than her blood.

"All is well my lord?" she asked in her husky voice.

Noticing my reluctance, she sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched her neck invitingly, even though I would never drink from her there. Never. No matter how enticing, no matter how much it went against my predatory nature not to. Instead I usually snatched her arm and bit into the vein by her wrist.

"You need to drink, my lord. You will need your strength today," she enticed further.

I sat up with a groan. "Not today, Calliope. Tomorrow I'll drink, I promise."

The maidens might not arrive for a week, or so Behlial had warned. My mother had warned that every time we returned to Adama, we had no way of anticipating the changes Adama went through in between our visits. Adama, it seemed, was vastly advancing in manners of technology. The last time we arrived, the Adamas—humans—had built primitive cities. Not that I had seen them, I was barely conceived after our last visit.

"You haven't replenished from me in months, my lord, you will need more than one drink to be at your best."

I ground my teeth, and my fangs elongated at her words. She was right, again. My throat burned, felt as if I had swallowed sand. By Hades, I even slept last night, and dreamed ofher. I only slept when my body was nearing exhaustion from malnourishment. If I didn't drink blood, I couldn't eat, and if I didn't eat, my body wasted. And now, of all times, I needed my strength if I wanted to defeat my brothers and live.

I should have prepared a week ago, at the very least. Then again, what was the point, I wondered.

Over the next few years we, my brothers and I, would kill each other until only one remained standing. In the meantime, we were supposed toenjoyour maidens and produce seven more sons for the next sick cycle.

I didn't want to participate in the games, but neither did I want to die. Even though I didn't understand what I wanted to live for.

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