Page 6 of Taken By the Alien Merking

“Foolish thoughts,” Zetron chided himself quietly, his gaze never leaving her form. The way the water caressed her skin, the gentle sway of her hips as she moved—it was a dance of seduction and he could not tear himself away.

He imagined the taste of her, the feel of her skin beneath his lips, the sounds she would make as he worshipped every inch of her body. The thought of his scent mingling with hers, a claim that would echo through the very essence of his being, was maddening.

“Mine,” he growled, the word slipping from his lips before he could contain it. But Captain was oblivious, lost in her own world, her focus on the task at hand.

Zetron knew he should announce his presence, to put an end to this torturous voyeurism. Yet, he remained rooted in the shadows,a silent sentinel entranced by the captivating human who had crash-landed into his life.

She did not know his true nature. That he was actually the king of the Quxoni posing as the negotiator. He was not ready to tell her.

The internal struggle was fierce. As an alpha male, a leader of his people, he was accustomed to taking what he wanted, to dominating any challenge that dared to stand before him. But Captain was not a challenge to be conquered; she was a treasure to be cherished, a complex puzzle that he yearned to solve.

With a force of will that belied his desire, Zetron stepped back into the darkness. He would not act on these base instincts. He owed her more than that, and he owed his people the promise of a future that he hoped would include the brave and beautiful Captain.

“Until the stars realign,” he whispered to the shadows, a silent vow that no matter what transpired, he would protect her.

Zetron’s voice sliced through the quietude of the cave, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate with the heaviness of unspoken possession. “And who is this Andi-male that holds such importance to you, Captain?” The odd name tasted foreign on his tongue, a stark reminder of the distance between them.

He emerged from the shadows, the bioluminescent glow of the cavern’s lichen casting an otherworldly light upon his scales.

Brooke stood in the pool, the water lapping at her curves, her attire doing little to conceal the contours of her figure. Her eyes met his, unflinching, a match to his intensity. “Andi and Naya are my sisters,” she declared, her voice carrying the weight of steadfast loyalty. “I’m responsible for them.”

The water dripped from her hair, each droplet tracing a path down her skin that Zetron ached to follow with his fingertips. But her words pierced his desire, reminding him of the chasm that lay between their worlds, between his duty and his growing obsession with this fierce hoo-man.

A slight nod, a tilt of his head, was all the acknowledgment he allowed himself. Apologies were not the currency of kings, and he would not debase himself with such trivialities, even as a twinge of guilt pricked at his conscience. She did not yet know his true title, the weight of the crown that was his burden to bear. Would it matter to her?

“You carry a heavy burden, Captain,” he observed, his voice softer now, yet still resonant within the confines of the cavern. “It is admirable, the depth of your commitment to those you hold dear.” There was a sincerity in his words, a mutual understanding of what it meant to protect one’s own.

Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, though her stance remained one of readiness, of coiled strength. “They’re my family,” she said,as if that explained everything, and in many ways, it did. Family was a concept that transcended worlds, a common thread that bound them, despite their differences.

Zetron found himself drawn to her, not just physically, but in a way that intrigued his mind and tugged at something deep within his chest. He had expected a negotiator, a representative of her people, but he found a warrior, a guardian, a sister. The complexity of her only added to her allure.

“In my culture,” he began, stepping closer to the edge of the pool, his gaze never leaving hers, “family is also paramount. It is the cornerstone of our society.” He paused, the next words hanging heavily between them. “But there is also duty, responsibility to one’s people. A responsibility I know all too well.”

The air in the cave seemed to grow denser, charged with the unspoken truth that loomed over them. Zetron felt the pull of destiny, the inexorable draw towards this woman who was everything he was not, and yet, somehow, everything he longed for.

Zetron cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the cavern walls, breaking the intensity of the moment. “We should discuss the matter of sustenance,” he said, his voice a controlled rumble. “I have procured some of the finest kelp-fed river trout from the waters of Sanos. I assure you, it is quite the delicacy.”

Brooke’s eyes flickered with interest, the mention of food pulling her from the depths of their previous conversation. “Sounds… intriguing,” she admitted, her voice betraying a hint of curiosity that pleased Zetron.

“Good,” he said, nodding towards the fire pit. “I will prepare it while you dry off.” He offered her a small smile.

With a final glance at the water, Brooke nodded and made her way out of the pool, her movements graceful despite the situation. Zetron turned away and focused on the task at hand.

He moved with practiced ease, cleaning the fish with swift, precise movements. Its scales shimmered in the firelight, a mosaic of blues and greens that mirrored the hues of his own skin. He gutted the fish with a sharp blade, revealing the pinkish flesh within. The scent of the river clung to the trout, earthy and fresh.

Zetron skewered the fish on a spit crafted from a sturdy branch, positioning it over the flames with care. The fire crackled and popped, casting dancing shadows across the cavern walls as the trout began to cook. The aroma of the cooking fish soon filled the space, a tantalizing promise of the meal to come.

He retrieved a thick, woven blanket from a nearby pile of supplies and handed it to Brooke. “Here,” he said. “This should keep you warm.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her fingers brushing against his as she took the blanket. A jolt of electricity shot through Zetron at the contact, a reminder of the desire that simmered just beneath the surface.

They settled together on a log, the heat of the fire warming their faces as the cool air of the cavern encircled them. Their bodies were close, so close that Zetron felt the warmth radiating from Captain’s skin. It took all his self-control not to pull her closer, not to claim her lips with his own.

Instead, he focused on the fish, turning the spit occasionally to ensure an even cook. The skin of the trout crisped to a golden brown, the flesh flaking away from the bone. Zetron’s mouth watered in anticipation, not just for the food, but for the conversation that was to come.

“This is ready,” he announced, pulling the spit from the fire and setting it on a flat stone to cool. Using his blade, he carefully filleted the trout, serving her a generous portion onto a broad leaf.

She accepted the makeshift plate with a nod of gratitude, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the unfamiliar but appetizing sight. “It looks… amazing,” she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

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