Page 18 of Gifted to the Alien Prince

My heart ached for him. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. “I didn’t know,” I murmured. “I understand now why you keep your distance from all this.”

He didn’t pull away, but his eyes remained fixed on the lights above. “It’s easier to let people believe I’m cold or disinterested than to explain the truth.”

“You’re not cold, Thadron. You carry more warmth than you let yourself believe. More than you let others see.”

His gaze finally met mine, the lights reflected in his eyes. Something shifted in his expression, a crack in the armor he’d built around himself. I no longer saw a distant prince or a hardened warrior. I saw Thadron weighed down by memories, struggling to let go of a past that still haunted him.

“Your song has power. It’s a gift.”

“You flatter me.”

“I’m not playing diplomat. It’s the truth. Your song is a gift. Not just for you, but for anyone who hears it.” I felt a pull toward him, a desire to share that burden, even if only a little. To thaw the frozen corners of his heart with understanding. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

His eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the storm within them quieted. “Let’s keep walking.”

We continued through the sculpture garden, past figures carved from ice. The lights from the sky wove through the art, bringing the frozen forms to life. Although Thadron’s words were still in my mind, my heart swelled with a mix of awe and gratitude.

We came to a stop near a tall, slender tree decorated with crystal ornaments. People passed by until we stood alone. I gota closer look at the ornaments. Each one shimmered as though capturing the glow of the auroras themselves. My gaze lingered on a sprig of greenery hanging from one of the lower branches. I thought I recognized a cluster of small, pale berries tucked within frosted leaves.

I tilted my head. “Is that... mistletoe?”

“I don’t know what mistletoe is.” Thadron's eyes twinkled with a rare light, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. “It’s calledskyberry vinehere.”

I reached up, brushing my fingers lightly against the sprig, feeling a mischievous thrill tickle at the edges of my thoughts. “Seems familiar enough.”

Our eyes met. The cold air seemed warmer. The lights above blurred softly. Thadron's fingers grazed my wrist as his hand lifted, hesitant, almost reverent.

I let my fingers linger on the delicate leaves of theskyberry vine, the pale berries nestled within the frost-kissed greenery. “On Earth,” I began, “we have a tradition with mistletoe. If two people find themselves standing under it, they’re supposed to kiss.”

Thadron’s eyes met mine, that cool, glacial blue thawing just a fraction. The air between us felt fragile, as if any sudden movement might shatter it. We were alone in our own pocket of quiet, the rest of the world blurred by the shifting light.

His gaze flickered to theskyberry vine, then back to me. “A curious custom.” His voice was low, a thread of hesitation woven through it. But he didn’t move away.

I swallowed, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “It’s just a tradition,” I whispered. My words hung there, an invitation I hadn’t intended, or maybe one I had.

His gloved hand traced a line from the vine back to me, his fingers barely brushing the curve of my cheek. The touch senta jolt through me, unexpected and electric. His eyes searched mine, as if weighing a choice he couldn’t quite rationalize.

Then, slowly, he leaned in.

When his lips met mine, the world tilted.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, a gentle press that grew bolder by the second. A heat bloomed within me, spreading through my veins, tingling at the tips of my fingers. His scent—crisp like fresh snow and mint with a hint of something dark and smoky—wrapped around me, drawing me deeper into the moment.

I closed my eyes, letting the sensation of him overwhelm me. The chill of the night faded away, replaced by the warmth of his mouth, the steady strength of his hand still resting at my jaw. The fabric of my dress rustled softly, the only sound between the beating of my heart and the whisper of the wind.

I tasted his lips. A wave of emotion surged through me. I had a hunger for more, a longing for the walls between us to fall away completely.

But just as quickly as the kiss deepened, it ended.

Thadron pulled back, his breath a soft inhale. His gloved thumb brushed my cheek once more as if to erase the moment. His eyes were stormy and conflicted now.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice rough. The words were an apology, but they felt like a punishment. “It won’t happen again.”

I blinked, feeling the cold even though I was protected by my dress. My lips still tingled, the ghost of his kiss lingering.

He stepped away, the space between us suddenly large and looming.

I nodded, though a tight ache formed in my chest. “Right. Just a mistake.”