Page 38 of My Big Fat Fake Alien

I need to contact Pyke immediately. And figure out how to tell Raven we need to get married in a week.

The thought of marriage brings unexpected warmth to my chest, despite the circumstances. But I push those feelings aside. There's no time for romance when the fate of humanity hangs in the balance.

"A space station." Pyke's hologram paces my office. "And a cruiser beneath Area 51. This is worse than we feared."

"At least we know their endgame now." I rub my scales where the image inducer chafes. "They plan to handpick Earth's survivors."

"The Ark's presence tells us something else." Pyke's face hardens. "Whatever method they'll use to destroy humanity, it's not beneath the club. They wouldn't risk their escape vehicle."

The logic clicks. "Which means Giscard won't trigger doomsday until everyone's safely in orbit."

"Precisely." Pyke nods. "And that gives us an advantage. Get yourself and Raven onto that station. Find out how they plan to reshape Earth's future."

"I might need to marry her first. Giscard insists all passengers must be wedded couples."

"Then do what needs to be done." Pyke's expression softens. "I'm activating every Veritas agent worldwide. We'll work on finding their weapon while you infiltrate from within."

"And if we can't stop them in time?"

"Then you'll be our last line of defense." Pyke's hologram flickers. "The fate of humanity rests on this mission, Karc. Don't let personal feelings cloud your judgment."

"When have they ever?" But my chest aches at the thought of using Raven this way.

"Just remember what's at stake." Pyke's image fades. "The entire Project focuses on this threat now. Nothing else matters until we stop whatever the Grolgath have planned."

CHAPTER 17

RAVEN

I’m sprawled on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, when Madison bursts in from her room, a bag of chips in one hand and her phone in the other. She plops down next to me, crunching loudly.

“So,” she starts, her voice dripping with faux casualness, “how was theHellfire Club? Give me all the juicy details. Did they have, like, a literal fire pit? Or was it more metaphorical? Because I’m picturing Dante’s Inferno but with champagne and leather whips.”

I laugh despite myself, tucking my legs under me. “No fire pit. Just a lot of rich people doing things they’d never admit to in public. Honestly, it was… weirdly classy. Marble floors, columns, murals of naked gods. And yeah, a dungeon. Complete with spectators.”

Madison’s eyes widen, and she leans in closer. “Dungeon? As in…dungeondungeon? With chains and stuff?”

“Chains, whips, St. Andrew’s crosses—the whole nine yards,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but my cheeks burn just thinking about it. “It was… intense.”

“Intense? Girl, you’re underselling it. I would’ve died. Or at least passed out from sheer excitement,” Madison says, poppinganother chip into her mouth. “So, did you and Kirk, y’know… join in on the fun? Or were you too busy playing detective?”

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “We didn’tjoin in. We were there to figure out what Giscard’s up to, not role-play as BDSM enthusiasts.”

Madison raises an eyebrow. “But you’re not denying that youthoughtabout it.”

“I’m notnotdenying it,” I mutter, which makes her cackle.

“Okay, but seriously,” she says, her tone shifting to something softer. “How are you feeling about Kirk? Like, for real. I saw the way you looked at him when he picked you up. You’re not fooling anyone with that ‘it’s just a fake engagement’ act.”

I bite my lip, staring at the wall. My chest tightens, and I can’t quite find the words. Madison knows me too well. She’s seen me through every heartbreak, every bad decision, every time I swore off men forever. But Kirk… he’s different. And that terrifies me.

“I don’t know, Maddy,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s… not like anyone else. But I can’t—I can’t let myself fall for him. Not again. Not after everything.”

Madison reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Hey, I get it. Trust me, I do. But maybe this time it’s different. Maybe he’s different.”

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the table. I pick it up, and my stomach does a backflip when I see Kirk’s name on the screen. I swipe to answer.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual.

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