Page 17 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Zayrik

I’D LET HER KISS ME .

And stars help me I hadn’t wanted her to stop. Even now, hours later, my body hummed with awareness, like every nerve ending had been rewired to respond to her alone.

I was still flying this flutzing ship with her scent on my skin.

A maddening mix of mechanical oil, something sweet I couldn’t place, and that underlying scent that was purely Nyla.

It clung to my clothes, my hands, everywhere she’d touched.

The memory of it making my fingers tighten on the controls until the metal groaned.

Every part of me burned with the memory.

The intensity of her fingers on my jacket, desperate and demanding.

The press of her mouth against mine, soft and warm and dangerous.

The desperate, furious heat that had crackled between us like a live wire.

It hadn’t been a kiss. It had been a detonation.

One that had blown apart every careful wall I’d built.

I adjusted the flight controls, forcing my breathing to even out. The familiar motions did nothing to calm the storm in my blood.

Behind me, the door to the cockpit remained closed. Everything we hadn’t said pressed down on me in the silence.

Good.

Because if she walked back in here now... If she so much as looked at me with those eyes that saw too much, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. Wasn’t sure I could stop myself from pulling her back into my arms, from finishing what we’d started.

My mating marks still thrummed, a low pulsing beneath my skin that hadn’t eased since her mouth had crashed into mine. They traced patterns of fire across my shoulders, down my spine. Ancient Alaran markings responding to something I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

They burned like a second heartbeat. Louder, needier, hers.

Always hers.

I gritted my teeth and focused on the jump point coordinates ahead, the blue-white numbers swimming before my eyes.

Anything to block the memory of her body pressed to mine, the way she’d fit against me like she belonged there.

The way she’d tasted like danger and something that felt too much like mine.

The worst part? I could still feel the exact moment she’d given in. When the kiss had changed from challenge to want, from fire to primal need. Something that terrified us both.

I hadn’t meant to corner her in that cargo hold.

I hadn’t meant to push.

I needed answers about why she trusted me, why she stayed.

She gave me fire instead.

The kiss hadn’t been careful. It hadn’t been calculated. It had been raw.

A reckless, burning thing that had sent my thoughts scattering and my control with them. Like a nova explosion, destroying everything in its path. Including my carefully maintained discipline.

And when she pulled away?

When reality crashed back in?

That fleeting flash of regret in her eyes hit harder than a blaster shot to the chest.

She’d run, leaving silence and heat in her wake. The sound of her boots on the metal grating echoing through the ship like accusations.

I hadn’t stopped her.

Not because I didn’t want to.

But because if I’d touched her again, I wouldn’t have let go. Wouldn’t have been able to resist the pull that had been growing between us since the moment she’d appeared on my ship.

I shifted in my seat, my nails digging into the padded armrest as the ship cruised through dark space. The stars streaked past, cold and distant. It was quiet now. No alarms, no enemies, no blaster fire.

Just my thoughts.

The ghost of her mouth on mine.

And the growing certainty that I was in deeper than I’d ever meant to be.

You’re not supposed to want this.

The words echoed in my head, a reminder of everything I was supposed to be. I was a Protectorate warrior. I followed orders. I wasn’t allowed to let feelings compromise a mission or cloud judgment.

But Nyla... she unraveled me with a look. A word. A kiss.

She made me question everything I thought I knew about duty and desire.

I exhaled, head tipping back against the seat, staring at the ceiling without seeing it. My marks pulsed harder, responding to even the thought of her.

I hadn’t even meant to win this ship. Just needed a card game and some quiet before heading back to duty.

I certainly hadn’t expected to find her bleeding on the deck. Or to feel this... pull. This bone-deep certainty that she was important. That she mattered.

My mating marks had been stirring from the moment I touched her. A warning I’d ignored. But now they’d activated beneath my skin, their colors darkening and shifting. Burning in a way I’d been trying to deny.

She kissed me like she wanted to forget everything.

Every hurt, every betrayal, every reason she had to run.

And I kissed her back like she was the only thing I wanted to remember.

Like memorizing the taste of her was more important than breathing.

The console chimed. Navigation update.

I tapped the screen, pretending I hadn’t flinched at the sudden noise. Pretending my thoughts weren’t still in that cargo hold with her.

She needed space.

So did I.

But the truth was closing in.

About her past.

About what these marks meant.

About what this was between us.

And we were running out of places to hide.

THE NAVIGATION SCREEN blinked, coordinates shifting as we entered a new sector. Each number a reminder of how far we’d come. How far we still had to go.

My marks flared again, a sharp pulse that made me hiss through clenched teeth. They weren’t just active now, they were searching. Reaching. Like they could sense her presence on the ship, even through walls and distance.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Protectorate warriors didn’t get distracted. And we certainly didn’t develop mating bonds with criminals.

But every instinct I had, every fiber of my being, rebelled at the thought of turning her in. Of letting anyone else touch her. The mere idea of it made something dark and primitive rise in my chest. Made my marks burn hotter.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to focus. The cockpit felt too small suddenly, too confined. The recycled air carrying traces of her scent that made it hard to think.

The ship’s systems hummed, a steady background noise that usually helped me think. Now it just reminded me of the way she’d trembled in my arms. Not from fear, but from letting go. From trusting, maybe for the first time.

“Approaching secondary jump point,” Nav announced, his voice carefully neutral. “Shall I maintain current course?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

A pause, then, “She’s in the supply room.”

I stiffened. “I didn’t ask.”

“No,” Nav said flatly. “But you always end up there. Eventually.”

I growled low in my throat. “Stay out of it, Nav.”

A beat of silence.

“Noted.” Another pause. “Though you’ve altered your climate settings twice and proximity patterns suggest... attachment.”

I looked down. My mating marks, hidden beneath my sleeve, burned and itched, their rhythm matching my heart.

Because that’s what this was. What it had always been heading toward, from the moment she stepped onto my ship.

A fated mate bond.

Forming whether we wanted it or not.

Growing stronger with every touch, every kiss, every moment we spent in each other’s orbit.

And the most dangerous part?

I didn’t want to fight it.