Page 5

CHAPTER 5

VICKI

O ur lips finally part, both of us gasping for air like we’ve been drowning in each other. My hands rest on his neck, feeling the smooth, warm scales beneath my fingertips. His purple eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the world dissolves around us. There’s no mansion, no contract, no million-dollar deal—just him and me. His gaze is intense, almost consuming, and I feel like I’m falling into it, deeper and deeper, until I’m not just looking into his eyes—I’m in them.

Images flash through my mind, vivid and overwhelming. I’m standing in a ruined building, the air thick with the stench of smoke and something metallic. My hands are small, trembling as I clutch at a toy. In front of me, two charred skeletons lie tangled in the rubble. My chest tightens, and I realize these were his parents. My throat burns with a scream that won’t come. The grief is unbearable, raw and unfiltered. It’s not just a memory—it’s his memory, and I’m living it.

Then, I’m somewhere else. A sterile, harsh-looking training ground. My body feels different—stronger, taller. I’m standing at attention, my heart pounding with excitement and determination. A massive, grizzled Vakutan barks at me, his voice like a crack of thunder, “Drop and give me… infinity!”

I hit the ground without hesitation, pushing my body to its limits with this strange, unrelenting drive. Every pushup is a battle, and I’m determined to win. It’s not just physical—it’s a test of will, and I refuse to fail.

The scene shifts again. I’m looking at… me. But it’s not me—it’s how he sees me. I’m standing in a limo, blonde hair catching the light, my cheeks flushed. There’s a softness in his gaze as he watches me, something I’ve never seen in my own reflection. To him, I’m not just pretty—I’m radiant, almost ethereal. And when I smile, it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. His chest tightens with something I don’t have a word for, but it feels like… hope.

The connection snaps, and I’m back in the present, staring at him with wide eyes. My heart is racing, and my mind is spinning. “What just happened?” I whisper, my voice trembling. I already know the answer, but I need to hear him say it. I need him to make it real.

His expression shifts, that intense gaze softening as he hesitates. He looks almost… vulnerable. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen before, and it makes my chest ache. “Vicki…” he starts, his voice low and hesitant. He stops, as if the words are stuck in his throat.

“Please,” I beg, tears welling in my eyes. “Tell me. I need to know.” My voice breaks, and I feel like I might shatter if he doesn’t answer.

He pulls me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me like a fortress. The warmth of his scales seeps into my skin, soothing the tremors running through me. “It was the jalshagar bond,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “Eyes meet eyes, and souls mingle. Memories merge, and raw feelings exposed.”

I bury my face in his chest, my voice muffled. “Was I… seeing your memories?”

He nods, his chin brushing the top of my head. “Yes, Victoria. You were.”

I pull back just enough to look up at him, my heart pounding. “Those bodies… were they your parents?”

His jaw tightens. I think he might not answer. But then he turns his face away, his expression haunted. “Yes,” he says, his voice clipped. “But I do not wish to discuss it further.”

I bite my lip, torn between wanting to comfort him and not wanting to push him. He’s a warrior, after all. He’s probably buried that pain deep, and prying it open now might only hurt him more. Still, I can’t help but feel like he needs to talk about it.

“Did you see my memories too?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He looks back at me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes.”

My curiosity is instantly piqued. “What did you see?” I demand, my fingers brushing against his chest. When he hesitates, I smirk and slide my hand lower, tracing a path down his stomach until I reach his cock.

He lets out a low growl, his eyes narrowing. “You’re fighting dirty, Victoria.”

I grin, stroking him slowly. “It’s your fault. You pulled it out of me. I’m not like this normally.”

He laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. “That’s not what your memories suggest.”

“Now you have to tell me what you saw,” I insist, my fingers curling around him.

He groans, his hips shifting slightly. “I saw you in a treehouse. Using a… vibrator on yourself.”

I burst out laughing, my cheeks burning. “It was the only place I could go for privacy! What else did you see?”

His expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost… tender. “I saw you cleaning up after your parents when they drank themselves sick. You’ve borne a terrible burden for too long, Victoria. It’s long overdue that someone takes care of you.”

My laughter fades, and I stare at him, my heart pounding. “How can you mean all of this when we’ve only just met?”

He cups my face in his massive hands, his purple eyes boring into mine. “You are my fated mate. The missing half of my soul. I would do anything for you.”

The weight of his words hits me like a tidal wave. Fated mates. Missing half of his soul. It’s too much, too fast. I pull away from him, hugging myself tightly. My mind is spinning, my chest tight with a mix of emotions I can’t even begin to untangle.

Rokkon rises from the couch, his movements smooth and deliberate. He grabs a soft velvet robe from the back of a chair and drapes it over my shoulders. The fabric is luxurious, soothing against my skin, but it doesn’t ease the turmoil inside me.

“Let me show you to your bedroom, Victoria,” he says, his voice full of longing, affection, and… disappointment. It’s clear he wanted me to stay with him tonight, but I’m too overwhelmed, too raw.

I nod, letting him guide me down a dimly lit hallway. His hand rests on the small of my back, warm and reassuring, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just stumbled into something much bigger than myself.

“I’m sorry if I rushed you, Victoria,” Rokkon says, his voice softer now, almost uncertain. “It was not my intention to make you feel upset.”

I look up at him, his massive red-scaled frame towering over me, those piercing purple eyes so full of concern it makes my chest ache. “You’ve been wonderful,” I say quickly, suddenly not wanting to be alone. “I’m just… this is a lot! This morning, I was signing a contract to escape turning into my parents. Now, I’ve met this amazing guy, and he’s super into me, but… he’s also an alien. And my Soul Mate ? How am I supposed to feel right now, Rokkon? Or should I call you Rocky Anderson? Christ, I’m dating Batman!”

I laugh helplessly, the absurdity of it all bubbling over like a shaken soda can. The roller coaster of emotions finally crests, leaving me breathless and dizzy. Rokkon stands there, patient and stalwart, his expression a mix of hurt and need. Needing me . Wanting me .

Am I fucking stupid? I silently ask myself.

“I would never deign to tell you how you feel, Victoria,” Rokkon says, his voice steady but tinged with something I can’t quite place. “Jalshagar bonds are powerful enigmas. My people do not fully understand them, no one truly does. You are justified in your need to adjust.”

“Stop it,” I groan, slamming my fists into his meaty chest. “Stop being so perfect.”

He laughs, the sound deep and warm, like it’s been trapped in his chest for years and only now found its way out. “I’m far from perfect, Victoria. I have made… mistakes.”

I can sense the memory he’s struggling to hide, lurking just beneath the surface. It’s close, so close, and I can almost taste it. But when I try to find it in his gaze, he turns away. I’m not so much hurt as I feel sorry for him. He’s afraid to be vulnerable. I can relate.

I step closer and wrap my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his scaled chest. He stiffens for a moment, startled, but then his arms come around me, pulling me tight against him. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, and I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“This is crazy, and it makes no sense,” I mumble into his chest, the words muffled but honest. “But I know you’re a good man, Rokkon. Er, good alien. Vakutan. You know what I mean.”

“I know you are a good woman, Victoria,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You sacrificed much to take care of your family.”

“But I ran out on them,” I insist, my throat tightening.

“Even the most finely crafted engine will not run if it runs out of fuel,” he says, his tone gentle but unwavering. “You emptied yourself out, like the giving tree. You gave all your leaves, your fruit, your limbs, selflessly. Now you need time to grow back. It is not ignoble.”

Tears spill over, hot and unbidden, and I bury my face in his chest, letting go of the guilt that’s been clawing at me for years. His arms tighten around me, steady and unshakable like the man himself.

“Come,” he says after a moment, scooping me up effortlessly. “Let us rest now.”

I don’t argue. I don’t have to be strong. I can just… let go. And for now, that’s enough.

Rokkon carries me through the mansion like I weigh nothing, his arms solid and unyielding. My head rests against his chest, the steady rhythm of his hearts lulling me into a strange calm. The opulence of the place still hasn’t fully sunk in—every corner seems to gleam with wealth, from the polished marble floors to the intricate chandeliers dripping with crystals. But it’s not the grandeur that catches my attention. It’s the door.

We pass by it, and I notice the heavy padlock and the medieval-looking bars over the lone, square window. It’s out of place in this otherwise pristine mansion, like a secret it’s trying too hard to keep. I tilt my head, curiosity piqued.

“What’s in there? Your pet dragon?” I ask with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. My voice echoes slightly in the hallway, and I feel Rokkon’s chest rumble with a low laugh.

“Oh, you’re not ready for what’s in there, Victoria,” he says, his tone sweet but with a hint of something else—condescension, maybe? It’s subtle, but it’s there, and it pricks at me.

“I’m a big girl,” I say, miffed. “You sure treated me like one earlier.”

He chuckles again, but it’s softer this time, almost indulgent. “First you must learn to walk,” he says, his voice carrying that same patronizing edge. “Then I will teach you to fly. But only when you are ready.”

“I’m ready now,” I insist, my tone petulant. I don’t like being talked down to, even if it’s coming from a seven-foot-tall alien who could probably bench press a car. But before I can argue further, he silences me with a kiss. It’s deep and commanding. I forget all about the mysterious door.

When he pulls away, I’m breathless, my cheeks flushed. He doesn’t say anything, just continues carrying me down the hall. I don’t fight it. I’m too tired, too overwhelmed, and honestly, too curious about what’s behind that door to push him further. For now, I let it go.

He carries me into the master bedroom, and I’m struck by how luxurious it is. The bed is massive, draped in soft silk sheets that shimmer in the dim light. He lays me down gently, the fabric cool against my skin, and pulls the covers over me, tucking me in like a child.

“Sleep now,” he says, his voice firm but gentle.

“Don’t wanna,” I mutter, even as I stifle a yawn. My body feels heavy, my eyelids drooping despite my protests.

He leans over me, his massive frame blocking out the light. “Go to sleep, sweet one,” he says, his hand coming to rest on my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but I can feel the strength in his grip, the unspoken command in his touch. “That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. His hand stays there, pinning me in place, and I feel a strange sense of comfort in the weight of it. My eyes drift shut, and I’m asleep before I even realize it.