Page 28 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

Maybe Pyke's right to be skeptical. I've claimed to find my jalshagar before. But lying here with Quinn's soft breathing against my chest, I can't shake the feeling that this time really is different. This fierce little human has gotten under my scales in a way no one else ever has.

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. Whatever happens with the negotiations, whatever danger lurks ahead, one thing is certain—anyone who tries to harm her will have to go through me first.

And no one goes through Varnok the Annihilator.

I shower quickly, the hot water sluicing over my scales, washing away the sweat and scent of our passion. Dressing in my usual black tactical gear, I find myself pacing the suite, unable to settle. My mind races with thoughts of Quinn. What if she is my jalshagar? How am I supposed to know for sure? I've never felt this pull, this magnetism toward anyone before. It's unsettling, yet exhilarating.

Eventually, I sink onto the sofa, my body exhausted but my mind still whirring. I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, cold metal presses against my temple, and I'm staring down the barrel of my own blaster.

"Some bodyguard," Quinn teases, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. She's fully dressed in her official IEC uniform, the blue and green fabric hugging her curves in a way that makes my heart pound. "Whatever happened to staying vigilant?"

I chuckle, slowly reaching up to push the blaster away. "Your honeypot was more potent than I anticipated. Left me more exhausted than a battle with a horde of Reapers."

Quinn blushes, a delightful pink spreading across her cheeks. "Well, we have to get to the negotiations soon. So, up and at 'em, soldier."

I stand, towering over her, and take in her appearance. The uniform is sharply tailored, accentuating her figure perfectly. I approve. "You look... official."

She raises an eyebrow. "Just official?"

I lean in, my voice dropping to a low rumble. "And utterly ravishing."

We step into the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind us. I move close to her, my mouth near her ear. "You know, I've been thinking about what I want to do to you next."

Quinn's breath hitches, but she keeps her gaze forward, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh, really?"

"Mm-hmm," I murmur, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw. "I want to bend you over that negotiation table, hike up this prim little skirt, and?—"

"Varnok," she hisses, her cheeks flaming red. "I'm on duty now. So behave."

I grin, loving the way her skin changes color with her emotions. It's like a secret language, one I'm eager to learn. "Spoilsport."

The elevator dings, signaling our arrival at the rooftop dome. Just before the doors open, I give her ass a playful spank, eliciting a surprised yelp from Quinn. She shoots me a glare, but there's no real heat behind it.

As we step out into the lush gardens of the Dome of Repose, I feel a sense of pride. Quinn is a vision of confidence and authority, ready to take on the challenges ahead. And I'll be right by her side, protecting her, supporting her.

Maybe she is my jalshagar. Maybe this is what it feels like—this constant tug, this need to be near her, to touch her, to keep her safe. Whatever it is, I'm not fighting it. I'm all in, ready to see where this path leads us.

But for now, we have a job to do. Negotiations await, and I'll be the silent, vigilant guardian at her side. Ready to annihilate anyone who dares threaten her.

The Dome of Repose lives up to its name—if you're not involved in the negotiations. The air smells of exotic flowers and fresh water from the miniature waterfalls. Birds chirp and flutter between branches. It's all very peaceful.

Too bad I want to rip someone's throat out.

The horseshoe-shaped table sits in the center of this botanical paradise, with Kallus and his four stuffed-shirt lawyers on the left, and Zantress with her single bodyguard on the right. Quinn takes her position in the middle, the mediator between two opposing forces.

Prime Minister Serenity Garsdotter steps forward, her lavender eyes scanning the assembly. "Ladies, gentlemen, and beings of all designations, welcome to Armstrong. I am Prime Minister Serenity Garsdotter, and I officially open these negotiations between Bruw Interstellar Shipping and the Solari of Jwoon X."

I stand behind Quinn, arms crossed, doing my best to look intimidating without actually threatening anyone. My eyes drift to Zantress's bodyguard and I freeze.

Drach.

The one-eyed Odex stares back at me, his cybernetic red eye glowing with recognition. Last time I saw him, we were on opposite sides of a battlefield on Praxis VII. I killed three of his squad mates before he nearly took my head off with that power blade of his. The scar on my neck throbs with the memory.

Drach's lips curl back, revealing teeth that could crush bone. I respond with a growl so low only another predator could hear it.

Quinn shoots me a sharp look over her shoulder. Her eyes narrow in warning. I swallow my growl and force myself to relax my posture, though every muscle in my body remains coiled, ready to spring.

"Let's begin," Quinn says, her voice clear and professional. "I'd like both parties to openly state their goals for these negotiations. Speaker Zantress, would you care to start?"

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