Page 25 of Pursued By the Dragon Alien

Wind funneled through the port, carrying shouts, the scent of tangy oils, and something faintly sweet. The sheer scope of it all pressed in from every direction.

And suddenly, she felt very,veryout of place.

Her feet stuttered. A queasy wave rolled through her stomach. She knew how to navigate a farm, a penal colony, a ship’s cargo hold. Butthis?This was something else entirely. Too much movement. Too many people. Too many unknowns pressing in all at once.

Then, warmth. A steady, solid presence at her side. A large, calloused hand closed gently around her wrist.

Razion.

He didn’t pull her, didn’t hold her in place—just let his fingers curve around her skin, grounding her. She hadn’t even realized she was reaching for him until her own fingers curled instinctively over his wrist in return.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly, just for her.

Lilas swallowed, forcing a slow breath in. He gave her a moment, his grip firm but reassuring, and just like that, the swirl of sensations around her dulled. His presence anchored her, gave her something to focus on besides the overwhelming scope of the trade station.

She nodded once, her jaw tight. “I’m fine,” she said, even though she wasn’t entirely convinced of it herself.

Razion’s lips tilted, just a fraction. “I know.”

He didn’t let go of her wrist as he led her forward, guiding her with easy confidence through the currents of bodies. Lilas stuck closer than she meant to, the brush of fabric against fabric, the press of others moving in different directions too foreign for her to ignore. The farm settlement hadn’t prepared her for this—this buzzing, shifting, relentless energy that filled the air.

But Razion navigated through it effortlessly, his grip shifting so his fingers tangled loosely with hers, as if he knew she needed it even if she wasn’t going to admit it. She focused on that—the warmth of his skin, the solid certainty of his movements.

“We’re heading toward the main trading stalls,” he said, his voice pitched just above the surrounding noise. “That’s where Vedd, Cozax, and the others will begin negotiating sales.”

Lilas blinked. “What arewedoing?”

“We have a bigger sale to make,” he replied. “Stay close. Don’t want you wandering off and getting yourself sold again.”

“Like I’d do that.” She shot him a glare, but the teasing edge in his voice loosened some of the tension in her chest. “I’m not a fool.”

“Indeed, you’re not,” he agreed, leading her down a side path lined with various vendors. “But I’d rather not deal with the trouble of rescuing you twice.”

She snorted, but didn’t pull away, too busy absorbing the sights around them. There were stalls stacked with shimmering fabrics, gravity-bound displays of high-tech weaponry, racks of dried food that exuded sharp, foreign scents. Beings of all kinds barked in different tongues, arguing prices, trading goods.

Razion steered her slightly to the left. His hand pressed lightly at the small of her back to keep her from bumping into a squat, four-legged alien hefting a crate filled with glowing rods.

“Careful,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Got it.”

He pointed ahead, toward a set of low, glowing platforms where items hovered weightlessly for display. “Those are high-value trades. Anything kept on an anti-grav platform is either rare, dangerous, or both. It’s how vendors make sure valuable goods stay in sight without risk of theft.”

Lilas eyed the platforms with newfound interest. Hovering just above the surface were objects she couldn’t begin to name—sleek metallic devices, jewellike stones pulsing with inner light, even what looked like a fully intact blaster rifle suspended as if caught in midair.

Razion moved them smoothly through the crush of bodies and mechanical beings, keeping her close as they approached the central trading district. The crowd thickened here, the noise intensifying, but she found it didn’t overwhelm her as much as before. Probably because Razion was still there. His touch was a steady point of reference in the chaos.

“Razion,” she asked, eyeing a vendor with a row of small, tightly sealed metal vials. “What’s in those?”

He followed her gaze. “Depends on the vendor. Some traders deal in medicinal compounds. Others in boosters, pheromone enhancers, even illegal stimulants.” His lips tilted in amusement. “Let me know if you get the urge to experiment.”

Lilas snorted. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

They went by a stall where a towering, furred alien was loudly haggling with a two-headed vendor. The dispute was growing animated—one of the vendor’s heads arguing with the customer, the other muttering calculations aloud. Lilas blinked, marveling at the dynamic.

Razion leaned in slightly. “Trade negotiations can get intense. But violence isn’t allowed in this sector, so most disagreements end in shouting instead of bloodshed.”

“Good to know,” Lilas muttered, sidestepping a small, floating drone that zipped past carrying a wrapped parcel.

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