Page 12 of Alien Guardian's Vow

"Says the species with natural radiation resistance," she muttered under her breath. "My markings can only protect me so much."

I paused, sensing her anxiety through the faint resonance of the bond between us—an unwelcome awareness. I turned my head slightly. "Your markings protect you from radiation?"

"Among other things," she replied curtly. "And they're telling me we need to move faster." She tried to push past me in the narrow space.

I grabbed her arm instinctively, my grip firm but not painful, pulling her back behind me. "Let me go first."

"Why?" she snapped, yanking her arm free. "Because you're the big strong warrior and I'm just the reckless human who needs protecting?"

"Because," I said, my voice dangerously quiet, meeting her glare in the dimness, "I can survive a cave-in better than you can."

She stared at me, frustration warring with the undeniable logic of my statement. Finally, she nodded once, sharply. "Fine."

I moved ahead again, my senses on high alert, listening for any sounds of structural weakness, the scrape of shifting stone, the whisper of collapsing earth. The passage widened slightly after a few more meters, opening into a small junction where three identical dark corridors met. Water trickled down one wall here, pooling on the uneven floor before disappearing into a crack.

"Which way?" she asked, consulting her scanner again, her tone challenging me to ignore it.

I ignored it. I sniffed the air, turning my head slowly, sampling the currents. Fresher air circulation, carrying the scent of deeper earth, came from the left passage. "This way."

"Scanner says right has the most stable energy readings," she countered automatically.

"And my senses say left has air flow," I replied, already moving down the left corridor, trusting instincts honed over a lifetime.

She sighed dramatically behind me, the sound loud in the confined space. "Fine. Lead on, oh wise one."

We'd taken only three steps down the left corridor when a sharpcrackechoed from directly above us. I looked up instinctively to see the ceiling fracturing, jagged lines spreading rapidly like ice breaking, chunks of ancient stone breaking free.

Pure warrior instinct took over. Before conscious thought could form, I lunged for Rivera. One powerful arm wrapped around her waist like a steel band, yanking her hard against my chest as I dove forward, away from the collapsing section. We hit the ground hard, my body instinctively covering hers, shielding her from the impact as debris—dust, pebbles, then fist-sized rocks—crashed down precisely where we had been standing. She was soft beneath me—smaller, breakable. And yet the look in her eyes wasn’t fear. It was trust. Unspoken, raw. And it hit harder than the collapse

The impact drove the breath from my lungs, pain flaring briefly from my still-healing hand burn where it struck the stone floor. I held position, shielding her completely with my body until the last stones fell with heavy thuds around us. Dust filled the air, thick and choking, coating my throat and stinging my eyes.

Beneath me, Rivera lay completely still for a moment, stunned. Then I felt her chest rise and fall against my back, her breath warm and quick against my neck where her head was awkwardly tucked beneath my shoulder.

We froze. Her body was small, fragile beneath mine, yet undeniably solid. The contact was absolute, inescapable. My lifelines flared beneath my skin, a sudden, intense heat responding to her proximity, to the adrenaline, to the danger she had faced. Golden light spilled from them, visible even through my dusty tunic, illuminating the small space around us in an ethereal glow. Her silver markings answered, pulsing in counterpoint, creating a strange resonance that vibrated through my core, a connection that felt deeper, more invasive than before. A flash of sharedintent, of synchronized survival instinct, passed between us—stronger and clearer than the raw energy surge when we'd collapsed the field.

Her scent filled my nostrils—ozone from the ruins, her unique human scent overlaid with fear and adrenaline. The markings had changed her, yes, but she remained... human. Vulnerable.

Her heart hammered against my back, matching the rapid pace of my own. I should move. Release her. Re-establish distance, control. But the sensation of her body beneath mine, soft yet resilient, kept me frozen in place for another heartbeat.

"You can," she finally managed, her voice muffled against my tunic, "get off me now." It came out as a shaky whisper.

I pushed myself up slowly onto my arms, still hovering over her protectively. Her face was inches from mine, amber eyes wide, pupils dilated from adrenaline or the dim light. A smudge of dirt streaked across her high cheekbone. An absurd, illogical impulse rose within me—the urge to brush it away.

The moment the thought formed, energy sparked between us—a visible blue-white flicker near her face, accompanied by a sharp tingling sensation that made her gasp and me recoil as if burned. We scrambled apart quickly, ending up several feet from each other, pointedly avoiding eye contact, breathing hard in the dusty darkness.

"Thanks," she muttered finally, sitting up and brushing dust from her clothes, refusing to look at me. "For the save."

I gave a single, sharp nod, not trusting my voice. My lifelines still pulsed erratically, casting shifting golden patterns on the nearby wall, responding to her proximity, to the bond, in ways I couldn't control and didn't understand.

"Looks like your ceiling assessment was right," she said, glancing at the pile of rubble behind us, then quickly back at her scanner, seeking refuge in data. "And my radiation warning was also right. Levels are spiking just ahead."

I rose to my feet, offering her my hand automatically, without conscious thought. She hesitated for only a second, her gaze flicking from my hand to my face, before taking it. I pulled her up easily. Another jolt passed between us as our palms connected, milder this time, but unmistakable. Like touching a charged surface.

She dropped my hand immediately, taking a step back, creating distance. "We should keep moving."

"Agreed." My voice was carefully neutral again, the warrior's mask firmly back in place, hiding the turmoil beneath.

We continued down the corridor, maintaining a careful, deliberate distance. The silence between us had shifted again. Antagonism felt petty now, blunted by shared danger and undeniable reliance.

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