Page 33 of Billionaire Alien Boss Daddy

He laughs, a sharp, grating sound that grates on my nerves. “Oh, I’m not going to kill her. Not yet, anyway. But you? You’ve been interfering with our operations far too long. It’s time for you to die.”

“If Claire dies, you die. Period. End of story.” My claws flex, the tips clicking against my palms. I take a step forward, but Ryan’s grip on Claire tightens, the barrel of the pistol digging into her skin. She winces, and I freeze.

Ryan’s smirk widens. “I’m not going to fight you, Shomun. That’s what Brick’s for.”

At his words, the angler’s chair behind him shifts, the wood and fabric twisting and morphing until Brick’s massive form stands there, scales glistening, his yellow eyes locked on me. He’s huge, his girth almost as intimidating as his height, and he cracks his knuckles with a sound like snapping bones.

“Should’ve stayed in your lane, lizard,” Brick says, his voice a deep rumble. He charges before I can respond, his fist slamming into my chest with the force of a freight train. I skid back, my claws digging into the deck to stop myself from going overboard. My ribs scream in protest, but I force myself to stand. No time to think. No time to feel.

Brick’s on me again, his fists a blur. I duck and weave, but he’s fast—faster than he looks. His elbow catches me in the temple, and the world spins. I hit the deck, the wood splintering under my weight. My arm’s broken—I can feel it, the bone jutting through the scales—but I grit my teeth and push myself up. Claire’s watching. I can’t stop. Not now.

I lunge, driving my shoulder into Brick’s gut. He grunts, stumbling back, but he’s got his balance back in an instant. His fist comes down like a hammer, and I barely manage to roll out of the way. The deck shatters where I was just lying, and I use the opening. My claws slash across his side, drawing blood, but he barely flinches.

“That all you got?” he sneers, his tail lashing. He grabs my broken arm, and I bite back a scream as he twists. My vision goes white, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. With a roar, I drive my good fist into his throat. He stumbles, his grip loosening, and I follow up with a kick to his knee. It buckles, and he goes down.

I don’t give him time to recover. My claws tear into him, over and over, until he’s lying still, his breathing shallow. I stand over him, my chest heaving, blood dripping from my claws. But there’s no time to savor the victory. The sound of a plasma pistol charging makes my blood run cold.

“Good fight,” Ryan says, his voice dripping with mockery. “But this is where it ends.”

I turn, but it’s too late. The first shot hits me in the chest, the plasma burning through my scales like they’re nothing. The second hits my shoulder, then my leg, then my side. I collapse to the deck, coughing up blood, my vision blurring. The holes in my chest burn, the scent of my own blood thick in the air. I try to move, but my body won’t obey. Claire’s scream is the last thing I hear before darkness takes me.

CHAPTER17

CLARICE

“Shomun!” I scream his name, my voice raw and cracked, as I drop to my knees beside him. His chest is a mess of blood, dark and slick, but beneath it, I can see the edges of the wounds already knitting together, his scales shimmering with a faint, otherworldly glow. His eyes, those deep red orbs that had once terrified me, flutter open, and he groans, a sound that’s half pain, half relief.

“Claire,” he rasps, his voice low and gravelly. He lifts a hand, trembling slightly, and cups my cheek. His palm is warm despite the blood. “You’re… unhurt?”

“Unhurt?” I choke out a laugh, tears streaming down my face. “You’re the one who got shot, you idiot. Twice!”

He smirks, that infuriating, cocky smirk that always makes my stomach flip. “A scratch. I’ve had worse.”

“A scratch?” I gesture at the blood pooling beneath him. “You’re literally lying in a puddle of your own blood!”

“It’s not my blood,” he says, his smirk widening as he tries to sit up. I push him back down, my hands splayed against his chest.

“Stay down, you big oaf.” My fingers skim over the edge of a wound, and I wince as I feel the heat of his rapid healing. “You’re not invincible, you know.”

“I’m Vakutan.” He says it like it’s an explanation, like it’s all the excuse he needs.

“Yeah, well, your ‘Vakutan healing’ isn’t fast enough to stop me from freaking out.” I lean over him, my hair falling into my face, and I brush it back with a bloody hand. “You scared me.”

He reaches up again, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me down until our foreheads touch. His breath is warm against my skin, and for a moment, the chaos around us fades.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You always scare me,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his. “But not like that. Never like that.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through my chest. “You’re one to talk. I saw what you did to Ryan.”

I pull back, my cheeks flushing as I remember. “Oh. That.”

“That,” he repeats, his eyes gleaming with something between pride and amusement. “You were… impressive.”

“Impressive?” I raise an eyebrow. “I thought Vakutan didn’t give out compliments lightly.”

“They don’t,” he says, his tone serious now. “But you earned that one.”

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