Page 24
Story: Alien Protector's Bond
When our lips met, the bond exploded into something new—a resonance that echoed through every silver line beneath my skin. His mouth was warmer than I’d expected, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. His tail wrapped around my leg, an instinctive gesture of possession that should have alarmed me but instead sent heat spiraling through my core.
My back pressed against the wall beside the open hatch, Ravik’s powerful body caging me there. One massive hand cradled my head while the other gripped my waist, strong enough to crush me yet carefully controlled. The disparity in our sizes should have been awkward, but we fit together as if designed that way, the bond guiding us into perfect alignment.
I felt his desire—not just physically but through the connection between us, a burning need that matched my own. My fingers traced his lifelines, drawing a rumbling sound from deep in his chest. In response, his hand slid beneath my shirt, tracing the markings along my ribs with a reverence that made me gasp.
Everywhere he touched, my markings flared with pleasure, creating feedback loops through the bond. I could sense his amazement, his conflict, his growing need. My leg hooked around his hip, pulling him closer, all rationality subsumed by the chemistry between us.
A distant crash shattered the moment. Voices echoed down the corridor outside the storage room—the security team expanding their search pattern after discovering the damage to the command center.
We froze, the danger instantly re-prioritizing our focus. Ravik set me down gently, his breathing as ragged as my own. The bond hummed between us, subdued but forever changed by what had just happened.
“They’re coming,” he whispered, golden eyes still dilated with desire but mind clearly shifting back to tactical concerns.
“Later,” I promised, the word carrying weight beyond its simplicity.
He gave a short nod, understanding all I hadn’t said. Then we were moving again, slipping through the hatch into the passage beyond. The door sealed behind us, hiding our escape route as the patrol burst into the storage room.
We’d found our way out of Hammond’s compound, but navigating what had just erupted between us would be far more complex.
RAVIK
The shadows concealed us as we crouched near the fence line, observing the patrol patterns from our hidden vantage point. Hammond’s security rotations had increased since our successful penetration of the ventilation system yesterday. Our escape had been postponed by the heightened vigilance, but the delay provided opportunities for critical intelligence gathering.
I remained perfectly still, my warrior’s training allowing me to maintain position without shifting or fidgeting despite the lingering pain in my healing injuries. Beside me, Zara demonstrated similar discipline—another quality I reluctantly admired in the human female.
My tail remained motionless against the ground, betraying none of the confusion that had plagued me since our encounter in the storage room. The memory of her smaller body pressed against mine, the intense resonance between our markings and lifelines, the hunger that had momentarily consumed all rational thought—these things haunted my meditations.
Such a connection was forbidden by my clan’s most sacred teachings. The marked outsider brings only destruction. Yet in that moment of connection, I had sensed nothing of destruction—only completion.
The translator stone rested between us, concealed beneath a small pile of debris but accessible if needed. We had agreed to use them sparingly—only when critical information needed to be exchanged. Its presence had transformed our planning, allowing precision where before there had been only approximation and guesswork.
“Movement at the main building,” Zara whispered, her voice barely audible.
I redirected my focus, eyes narrowing as Hammond emerged from the compound’s central structure. He was accompanied by his second—Phillips—and two armed guards. They moved with purpose toward the western section where I had been held during Hammond’s initial experiments.
“Follow them?” Zara asked, her analytical mind already calculating risks versus intelligence value.
I nodded once. We had become adept at silent communication over the past days, our movements synchronized despite our vastly different physiology and training. Another effect of the bond, however much I tried to deny it.
We used the perimeter shadows for cover, moving only when patrols turned away. Zara’s markings provided warning of electronic surveillance, while my heightened senses detected guard movements beyond visual range. Together, we were formidable—another uncomfortable truth.
Hammond’s group entered a structure built directly into the exposed section of ruins—a laboratory of sorts, where he conducted his most sensitive experiments. From our position near a ventilation outlet, we could hear fragments of conversation carried on recirculated air.
“—failing again,” Hammond’s voice, tight with frustration. “The interface is rejecting standard protocols.”
“We’ve tried increasing the energy output,” Phillips responded, “but the system becomes unstable above sixty percent.”
“It’s not enough!” Something slammed against a surface—Hammond’s fist against a console, perhaps. “The Nexus requires complete integration. The shard is the key, but we’re missing something in the conversion process.”
I went rigid, a cold fury building beneath my calm exterior. Nexus. The word confirmed my worst fears—Hammond was attempting to access the planetary control systems that had precipitated the Great Division. My ancestors had warned of this precise scenario: another arrogant attempt to harness Arenix’s power, regardless of consequences.
“Sir,” Phillips again, his tone cautious, “the readings from the Nyxari subject showed promise. His lifelines responded to the shard in ways the marked women’s patterns didn’t. If we resume those tests?—”
“Resumed and accelerated,” Hammond cut in. “Bring him back to the lab tomorrow. And double the security detail—I don’t trust that blue monster.”
Beside me, Zara stiffened. Through our bond, I sensed her shock and fear—emotions quickly subsumed by a cold, analytical anger. Her markings pulsed once beneath her skin before settling into a steady, determined glow.
Hammond moved toward a workstation, where a crystalline object rested on a salvaged scanner pad. My breath caught as I recognized the artifact—a shard from a division key, one of the devices that had nearly destroyed Arenix during my ancestors’ civil war. Its fractured surface gleamed with inner light, pulsing in a pattern that matched the golden flow of lifelines.
Table of Contents
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