Chosen by the Alien Prince: A SciFi Alien Romance (Fated Star Mates Book 3) by Kyla Quinn

Author:Kyla Quinn [Quinn, Kyla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emu House Publishing
Published: 2021-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

HOPE

I've never experienced travel sickness.

Not until now, because the gloopy, sweet food I ate earlier is swirling in my belly.

The drevmar plunges and I leave my stomach in the Enclave gardens. There's nothing around but the Enclave wall for the first part of our journey, with more Eyes than I've seen before patrolling in the air around.

I squeak as we hurtle towards a wall, but at the last second it drops away and we speed through until we reach a road. Nerves mingle with a strange excitement, along with a relief to be free from the Enclave. Tor keeps his eyes on the roadway and moves through the streets I'd expect to fill with other vehicles and aliens, but they're deserted. I'm confused, because the size and amount of the buildings looks like the heart of Manhattan.

"Farian’s center is less important now that the population is low," he says. "The city is in two sectors now too—one is an area decent people don't go to."

"The Dark Sector where your diseased alien lovers live?" I ask.

"Do not speak to me this way," he growls.

"I hope you're not taking us there," I say. “This Dark Sector sounds dodgy."

"Dodgy?"

"Thieves. Killers."

Tor nods. "Yes. Not this time."

This time?

The empty streets grow busier the further we travel, and I'm finally becoming accustomed to the vehicle's movement when the drevmar slows to a halt. We're positioned in a row of other drevmars beside pillars, and the moment the vehicle touches one of those, a figure illuminates on the side.

"Power," comments Tor as he helps me from the vehicle and onto a sidewalk, the same color as the ones in the gardens, but these are dirty with a lack of Roombas. "The drevmar will charge while we visit."

I turn from Tor to take in my surroundings, and nothing prepared me for the sight. I’m only just getting used to Vraxens and now I’m confronted by other species.

There’re other horned aliens, but purple and with squashed faces and no nose. I stare at a woman with tentacles beneath the chins, who gawks at me in return, so I move my eyes elsewhere. A tall, green alien with hairy legs and hooves poking from beneath his bright blue pants walks beside another who’s barely taller than my first graders, but with sharp, malevolent features. I think they’re both male, but I can’t be sure.

Tor parked the vehicle at the side of a gleaming white street lined by regimented silver-barked trees covered in blossom that remind me of the Enclave gardens.

“So many, uh, people,” I say, unsure if ‘alien’ would be rude. I find it rude when applied to me.

Tor turns me away from the street and blocks me from view. "The next three sunstimes are market times. The Regime permits inhabitants of other planets entry in order to purchase and trade."

The aliens move in and out of buildings, which are identical white and single story with neon symbols above the door and screens illuminating what I presume is inside. We pass one that projects images of small items that look like jewelry.

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