Page 35 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

Iwalk through the winding paths of the Dome of Repose, my fingers brushing against exotic leaves and flowers. The scent of alien blossoms fills the air, sweet and heady. Water trickles somewhere nearby, a peaceful sound that does nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

The negotiations are stalled. Kallus sits smug and self-satisfied while Zantress grows increasingly desperate. And me? I'm distracted by thoughts of red scales and purple eyes.

Last night was supposed to be simple. A release. Sex as stress relief—something to clear my head so I could focus on saving an entire moon of pacifists from corporate exploitation.

Instead, I'm worse off than before.

I pause beside a small pond where luminescent fish dart beneath lily pads. My reflection ripples back at me, distorted and uncertain.

"You're a professional," I whisper to myself. "Act like it."

But Varnok isn't just a fling anymore. The way he looked at me this morning—like I was something precious, something worth protecting beyond just professional duty—it made my chest ache.

I close my eyes and lean against the railing. For a moment, I swear I can feel him—his frustration, his determination, a flash of pain so sharp it makes me gasp.

Is this what happens when you let someone in? This strange connection, this feeling of another presence inside your mind?

My father would have laughed at me. "Quinnie," he'd say, "you're overthinking again." Then he'd ruffle my hair and tell me to trust my instincts.

But my instincts led me straight into Varnok's arms, and now I can't think straight. If I let myself care too much, if I let myself believe we could be more than just a diplomatic fling...

I'd lose him. Just like I lost Dad.

Just like the Solari are going to lose their moon.

The thought ignites a flash of anger. I reach down, grab a smooth stone from the decorative border of the path, and hurl it as hard as I can into the dense foliage.

There's no sound of impact. No rustle of leaves. Nothing.

Then, a figure emerges from between the fronds of a massive fern. A Vakutan, scales black as obsidian, holding my stone between two clawed fingers.

"For a second, I thought you aimed this at me on purpose," he says with a smile that sends ice down my spine.

I take a step back. This isn't right. Security should have flagged an unauthorized Vakutan in the dome. The way he's looking at me—predatory, calculating—makes my skin crawl.

"Who are you?" I keep my voice steady despite the alarm bells ringing in my head.

He sighs dramatically, rolling the stone between his fingers. "Bored," he says. "My partner got the fun assignment of taking out your bodyguard. I'm stuck with a weak human..." He looks me up and down with contempt. "And a female at that. Tell you what, I'll give you a twenty second head start to make it more fun."

My blood freezes. Varnok. They're after Varnok.

I stand rooted to the spot, mind racing. The Dome is nearly empty at this hour. Security is focused on the entrances, not the interior. No one knows I'm here except?—

"Twenty," the Vakutan begins counting, his voice casual. "Nineteen..."

I fumble for my compad, fingers trembling as I try to send an emergency alert. The screen flashes red: SIGNAL BLOCKED.

"Eighteen... seventeen..."

I spin and run, my formal shoes slipping on the polished path. I dart around a massive potted tree, down a side path lined with bioluminescent fungi. The dome is a maze of greenery, and I have no idea if I'm heading toward an exit or deeper into isolation.

"Sixteen... fifteen..."

His voice carries easily through the garden. He's not even trying to chase me yet.

I duck behind a waterfall feature, my breath coming in quick gasps. Think, Quinn. Think.

Varnok is in danger. The sharp pain I felt earlier—was that him? Is he already hurt?

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