Page 22 of Wrecked By My Alien Mentor

The words hit like a plasma blast to the chest. My claws curl into fists, and I let out a roar of frustration, flipping the desk over with a crash. Papers scatter, holographic screens flicker out, and Pyke’s coffee mug shatters on the floor.

He doesn’t move. Just sits there, watching me with those calm, calculating eyes. "Are you done?"

I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving. My scales flare a deeper red, the heat of my anger radiating off me. "You’re asking me to choose between my duty and the woman I?—"

"Love?" Pyke finishes for me, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I am. And I know it’s not an easy choice. But this is the job, Orion. If you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can."

I glare at him, my jaw clenched so tight it feels like my teeth might crack. But I know he’s right. If I don’t train her, someone else will. And I’d rather die than let someone else take her from me.

"Fine," I snarl. "I’ll train her. But if anything happens to her?—"

"You’ll be the first to know," Pyke says, his tone softening. "And the first to act. Now, go. And try not to destroy any more furniture on your way out."

I fly back home to the riverboat, my mind lost in how I'm going to tell Cora the news. I have to tell her she's going to put her life in danger. It's not that I think she will refuse that bothers me.

It's that I know she's going to say yes.

I disguise the shuttle as a chopper and land at Orion Plaza. Then I take the Lexus to the riverboat, prepared to tell Cora the news.

I step onto the riverboat, the scent of burnt tuna casserole hitting me like a plasma blast to the face. My scales twitch in revulsion. Cora’s parents are here, standing in the middle of the living room, beaming like they’ve just discovered a new planet. Maggie holds a casserole dish in her hands, the contents of which look like they’ve been through a supernova.

“Orion!” Maggie chirps, thrusting the dish toward me. “I made this for you. A little housewarming gift. Tuna casserole—my specialty.”

I force a smile, my teeth grinding together. “How… thoughtful.”

Cora’s dad, Joe, claps me on the shoulder with a hand that feels like it could crush a grolgath skull. “Maggie’s been talking about this all week. You’re in for a treat.”

I glance at Cora, who’s standing behind her parents, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief. She knows. Sheknows.

“Well,” I say, taking the dish with the kind of caution one might use when handling a live grenade, “I’m sure it’s… delicious.”

Maggie beams. “Oh, it is! I added extra cheese this time. And a secret ingredient.”

“Secret ingredient?” I echo, my voice strained.

“Love,” she says, clasping her hands together.

“Right. Love. Of course.” I glance out the window, spotting a barge passing by. “Oh, look at that! A barge. You don’t see those every day.”

Maggie and Joe turn to look, and I seize the moment. I dart into the kitchen, dump the casserole into the trash, and return to the living room before they can blink.

“So,” I say, licking my fingers with exaggerated enthusiasm, “that was incredible. Truly. Best tuna casserole I’ve ever had.”

Maggie’s eyes widen. “You already ate it?”

“Couldn’t help myself,” I lie smoothly. “It smelled too good to resist.”

Cora steps closer, her voice a whisper in my ear. “You might think you’ve won, but now Mom will just bring you a tuna casserole every. Time. she. Visits.”

I stifle a groan. “I’ve cut my own throat, haven’t I?”

She grins. “Absolutely.”

After what feels like an eternity, Cora’s parents finally leave, waving goodbye from the dock. I collapse onto the couch, rubbing my temples. Cora sits beside me, her expression shifting from amused to curious.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I take a deep breath. “Pyke’s ordered me to train you. Hand-to-hand combat, small Vakutan firearms, starship controls. The works.”

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