Page 10

RAEKON

T he city sprawls below me, a glittering testament to human ingenuity and resilience.

Normally, the sight fills me with a sense of pride, knowing Veritas has played its part in safeguarding their timeline.

But tonight, the lights seem dimmer, the hum of the city muted.

My gaze drifts down to the woman curled against me, her red hair fanned across the sheets like a flame frozen in time. Willow. My little flower.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my scaled fingers gentle against her soft skin. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. Six months. Six months since she stumbled into my life, a trembling morsel with a sharp mind and a spine of steel. Six months since I claimed her as mine.

“Has it been six months already?” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.

I’ve watched her grow, seen her confidence bloom under my guidance—and my discipline.

She’s become more than my assistant. She’s become.

.. something I didn’t anticipate. Something I’m not sure I’m prepared for.

Worries gnaw at the edges of my mind, a sensation I’m unaccustomed to.

I’m Raekon, a Vakutan warrior, a protector of Earth’s timeline.

Fear is a foreign concept to me. And yet, here I am, staring at the sleeping woman in my arms, terrified.

Not for my own safety—death in battle is an honor, a Vakutan’s destiny.

But for hers. What if something happens to her?

What if I fail her? And worse, what if something happens to me?

The thought of her grieving, alone, cuts deeper than any blade.

A soft sigh escapes Willow’s lips, and her body shifts, pressing closer to mine.

I tighten my arm around her, pulling her into the protective curve of my body.

She fits there, perfectly, as if she was made for me.

But can I be what she needs? Can I balance the demands of Veritas, the weight of my duty, with the vulnerability of caring for her?

I trace the line of her shoulder, my fingertips brushing the faint mark I left on her skin earlier.

My jalshagar. The word echoes in my mind, a truth I haven’t spoken aloud.

It’s more than a claim; it’s a bond, a promise.

But is it fair to bind her to me, with all the danger that comes with my life?

Willow’s eyes flutter open, green and luminous in the dim light. She blinks up at me, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “Ray? What are you doing awake?”

I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Watching you sleep, little flower. You’re... breathtaking.”

She chuckles softly, her hand coming up to rest against my chest. “You’re such a sap sometimes. What’s on your mind?”

I hesitate, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. But before I can answer, she sits up, her expression shifting from sleepy to concerned. “Wait, no. Don’t lie to me. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s bothering you. Fess up, Vakutan.”

I let out a low chuckle, despite the tension in my chest. “You’ve become far too perceptive for your own good, Ms. Christian.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Ms. Christian? Oh no. This is serious. Out with it, Raekon Keong.”

Her use of my full name makes me smile, despite myself. She’s the only one who can pull that tone with me and get away with it. I trail my fingers down her arm. “I’m... concerned. About us. About the future.”

Her eyes soften, and she shifts to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing me fully. “You? Concerned? The big, bad Vakutan warrior who once wrestled a Odex bare-handed is worried about the future?”

I smirk, despite the heaviness in my chest. “I didn’t wrestle it. I merely subdued it. Bare-handed, yes, but let’s not exaggerate.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile falters as she studies my face. “What’s really going on, Ray? Talk to me.”

I look away, my gaze drifting back to the cityscape outside the window. “I’ve never had something to lose before. Not like this. You... complicate things, Willow. In the best way possible, but still. The thought of something happening to you—or to me, leaving you alone—it terrifies me.”

She’s silent for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the sheet. When she speaks, her voice is soft but steady. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, you know. I think about it too. All the time. But Ray, we can’t let fear control us. We just... have to take it one day at a time. Together.”

Her words settle over me like a warm blanket, easing the tension in my chest. I turn back to her, cupping her face in my hands. “When did you become so wise, little flower?”

She grins, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I’ve been taking lessons from the master of wisdom himself. You, in case that wasn’t clear.”

I laugh, a deep rumble that vibrates through my chest. “Cheeky. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you lately.”

Her smile softens, and she leans into my touch. “Or maybe you’ve just realized I’m worth keeping around.”

I pull her into my lap, my arms wrapping around her. “Oh, I’ve known that for a while now, Willow. I just... needed to be reminded.”

She rests her head against my chest, her fingers playing with the edge of my scales. “Then remind me, Ray. Every day. And I’ll do the same for you.”

I press a kiss to the top of her head, my heart swelling with emotions I’m still learning to name. “Deal, little flower. Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s another day.”

She nods, settling back against me, her breathing evening out as she drifts off to sleep. I hold her close, the weight of the world feeling just a little lighter with her in my arms.

The alarm blares, jolting me awake. I reach over and silence it with a tap, then turn to see Willow groaning into her pillow. I chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling. “Time for the daily grind.”

She mumbles something incoherent, her red hair a tangled mess against the sheets. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, standing to my full height and stretching. Scales ripple across my torso as I move, and I glance back at her. “You’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”

Willow sighs dramatically, then pushes herself up, her green eyes narrowed in mock annoyance. “You’re far too chipper in the mornings. It’s unnatural.”

“It’s called discipline,” I reply, heading to the closet to pull out my suit. Tailored, sharp, and entirely human. The image inducer does the rest. “You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll stick to my eight hours of beauty sleep, thanks,” she says, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She’s wearing nothing but her underwear and pantyhose, and I take a moment to appreciate the view before she disappears into the walk-in closet.

I finish buttoning my shirt and fasten my cufflinks, my eyes flicking to the closet door. “Are you certain you don’t want me to hire you an assistant? Someone to manage your wardrobe, perhaps?”

Her head pops out, her expression incredulous. “Oh god no, I can pick out my own clothes.”

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “Apparently not.”

She steps out, hands on her hips, still clad in her undergarments. “We have a meeting at Alpha Base today, in case you’ve forgotten. I’d like to wear something that’s not too tight, too short, or shows too much cleavage. And you’ve made that impossible with the clothes you bought me.”

I raise a brow ridge, smirking. “Impossible? Willow, your new wardrobe is professional. It would pass muster in any office building in the West.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on. You were the one saying, ‘cut that side slit on the skirt a little bit higher’ and ‘I don’t care if the corset makes the skirt an inch too short, the look is perfect.’ Admit it, Ray. You’ve turned me into your personal dress-up doll.”

I laugh, the sound echoing through the room. “Guilty. But can you blame me? You’re a vision in everything you wear.”

She gives me a look, one that says she’s not buying it, but there’s a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you tolerate me,” I reply, stepping closer. My fingers brush her arm, and she shivers despite herself. “Now, pick something before I do it for you.”

She sighs dramatically again but turns back to the closet, muttering under her breath about “bossy aliens.” I watch her for a moment longer, my chest swelling with pride. She’s come so far since the day I found her cowering in that elevator. My little flower. My jalshagar.

“Hurry up,” I tease, heading toward the door. “We’ve got a timeline to protect.”

I guide Willow through the bustling corridors of Veritas Base Alpha, her hand gripped tightly in mine.

The air is filled with the hum of activity and the occasional whir of a passing hover-drone.

Her eyes dart around, taking in the high-tech marvels that surround us, but I keep my gaze fixed ahead, my mind racing.

As we approach Pyke's office, the door slides open with a soft hiss, revealing the circular desk and the holographic globe of Earth floating above it.

But it's not the familiar sight of Pyke's eccentric paintings that makes my heart pound like a war drum.

It's the group of Vakutan scientists, their scales glinting under the harsh office lights, and the equipment they hold—equipment I recognize all too well.

I lean down, my lips brushing Willow's ear as I whisper, "They're going to give you a test. And no matter what, you must not pass."