The Alien’s Unwanted Bride (Alien Brides #4)

Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

D ravek’s world narrowed to a single point of focus: Zora’s pale, unconscious form cradled in his arms. The chaos around him faded to a dull roar as he pressed his hand against her wound, willing the bleeding to stop.

“Zora,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Stay with me. Please.”

For the first time in his life, Dravek felt true fear. Not the adrenaline rush of battle or the tension of a high-stakes negotiation, but a bone-deep, paralyzing terror at the thought of losing her. The realization hit him like a physical blow: he couldn’t imagine a life without Zora in it.

A shout from nearby snapped him back to reality. Ylara and her rebel forces had arrived, engaging the remaining Drakanor mercenaries in fierce combat. The night air crackled with energy blasts and the clash of weapons.

Dravek’s military instincts warred with his desire to stay by Zora’s side. But he knew what she would want him to do. As he laid her in a hidden alcove, Sprig fell out of its hiding place in the gown’s inner pocket.

“Sprig,” Dravek said. The small robot came to life.

“Prince Dravek, what has happened?”

“No time, Sprig. Watch over Zora. Make sure no one harms her further. I’ll be back,” he promised. “Hold on, Zora. I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain. Malgor will fall.”

With a last lingering look at her still form, Dravek turned and plunged into the fray. He fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself, each strike fueled by a potent mixture of rage and fear. Mercenaries fell before him like wheat before a scythe.

As he fought, Dravek caught glimpses of the larger battle unfolding. Ylara’s forces were pushing the Drakanor back, reclaiming the palace room by room. The tide was turning.

A familiar voice cut through the din, dripping with malice and desperation. Malgor Tan’er.

Dravek’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the usurper trying to slip away in the chaos. Without hesitation, he gave chase, vaulting over fallen debris and dodging energy blasts.

He cornered Malgor in a lavish study, the walls lined with ancient tomes and priceless artifacts. The older man’s composure had crumbled, replaced by wild-eyed panic.

“It’s over, Malgor,” Dravek said, his voice cold and hard as Tharvisian steel. “Surrender now, and you might be shown mercy.”

Malgor’s laugh was brittle and humorless. “Mercy? There’s no mercy in politics, boy. Only power.” He lunged, a hidden blade flashing in his hand. But Dravek was faster. Years of training took over, and in a blur of movement, he disarmed Malgor and pinned him to the ground.

“You’re wrong,” Dravek growled, securing Malgor’s hands behind his back. “There is mercy in justice. And justice is what you’ll face.”

As he hauled Malgor to his feet, Ylara burst into the room, flanked by her most trusted lieutenants. Her eyes widened at the sight of the captured usurper.

“Well done, Prince Dravek,” she said, a fierce grin spreading across her face. “The throne room is secure. Xuevis is ours once more.”

A cheer went up from the rebels, the sound of victory echoing through the palace halls. But Dravek felt no elation. His thoughts were only of Zora.

“Zora,” he said urgently. “She’s injured. She needs medical attention immediately.”

Ylara’s expression softened. “Go to her,” she said, taking charge of Malgor. “We’ll handle things here.”

Dravek needed no further encouragement. He raced back through the palace, his heart pounding with each step. When he reached the outside hiding place where he’d left Zora and Sprig, he found a team of rebel medics already tending to her.

“How is she?” he demanded, his voice rough with barely contained emotion.

One of the medics looked up, her expression grave but not hopeless. “The wound is severe, but we’ve stabilized her. We need to get her to a proper medical facility as soon as possible.”

Dravek nodded, relief warring with continued worry in his chest. Without a word, he scooped Zora into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. To him, she was.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Dravek refused to leave Zora’s side as she was rushed to the palace’s advanced medical wing. He stood vigil outside the emergency healing room, his normally impassive face etched with lines of concern.

As he waited, staring blankly at the stark white walls, Ylara approached. She looked tired but triumphant, the glow of victory in her eyes.

“How is she?” Ylara asked softly, coming to stand beside him.

“Still inside,” Dravek replied, his voice hoarse. “They say... they say the next few hours will be critical.”

Ylara nodded, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Zora is strong. She’ll pull through.”

Dravek said nothing, but the muscle in his jaw tightened. Ylara studied him for a moment, her gaze knowing.

“You love her, don’t you?” she asked gently.

Dravek’s first instinct was to deny it, to retreat behind the walls of duty and protocol he’d built around himself. But he was too tired, too raw to maintain the facade.

“Love wasn’t part of my training. It wasn’t part of the plan.”

Ylara’s laugh was soft and kind. “Oh, Dravek. Love is never part of the plan. It’s what happens when all our careful plans fall apart.”

She turned to face him fully, her expression serious. “Listen to me. What you and Zora have is rare. You’re life mates whether you want to admit it. The only way either of you will ever truly be happy is if you embrace that love.”

Dravek closed his eyes, feeling the truth of her words resonate within him. He thought of Zora’s smile, her fierce fortitude, the way she made him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had. The idea of a life without her by his side was... colorless. Empty.

“This is scary,” he admitted.

“Of course, it is,” Ylara said. “Love is terrifying. It’s also the most powerful force in the universe. Don’t run from it, Dravek. Run toward it.”

Before Dravek could respond, the door to the healing room opened. A medic emerged, looking tired but satisfied.

“She’s stable,” the doctor announced. “The surgery was successful. She’ll need time to recover, but barring any complications, she should make a full recovery.”

The relief that flooded through Dravek was so intense, it nearly brought him to his knees. “Can I see her?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

The doctor nodded, stepping aside to let him pass.

Dravek entered the room slowly, his eyes fixed on Zora’s still form. She looked small and fragile against the white sheets, but the steady rise and fall of her chest was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He sank into the chair beside her bed, gently taking her hand in his. And there, in the quiet of the recovery room with only the soft beep of monitors as witness, Dravek finally allowed himself to accept the truth.

He loved Zora. Completely, irrevocably, and with every fiber of his being. The realization didn’t feel like a surrender or a weakness. It felt like coming home.

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. “And when you wake up, I promise I’ll tell you properly. We have so much to talk about, so much to look forward to. Just... come back to me, Zora. Please.”