Page 49 of Alien Warlord's Fury

This place... Serpent's Tooth. Definitely not the western ruins lab where he held me before, where Rivera and Varek had pulled me from the wreckage. More isolated, the structures integrated differently into the ancient stone.

What waited for me here?

I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest of sore muscles. Nirako glanced over, his eyes assessing.

"You should rest longer," he said, voice even. Always even.

"I've rested enough." I stood, swaying slightly before finding my balance. "We move at dawn, right?"

"If you're recovered."

"I'm recovered." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

Nirako returned to his methodical preparation, checking his blade for perhaps the tenth time. His back to me, shoulders straight, every movement precise. His long tail remained perfectly still, betraying none of the tension I could feel radiating from him.

Something snapped inside me.

I crossed the chamber in three quick strides. My hand shot out, grabbing his tunic, yanking him around to face me. Surprise flickered across his features – the first genuine emotion I'd seen since we'd taken shelter.

"Claire—"

I cut him off, pulling his face down to mine, crushing my mouth against his. This wasn't the careful, controlled kiss we'd shared before. This was teeth and tongue and desperation.

This was fear transformed into hunger.

He stiffened, hands coming up to my shoulders but not pushing me away. Not yet.

I pressed harder against him, fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic. "Don't you feel it?" I demanded against his mouth. "Any of it? The fear?"

"The danger? Or are you too Aerie, too controlled to admit it?"

His eyes narrowed, irises darkening. "I feel everything."

"Then show me." I pushed him backward until his legs hit the stone ledge where he'd been sitting. "Stop being so damn controlled!"

I straddled him, knees on either side of his hips, hands gripping his shoulders. My markings flared, silver light casting harsh shadows across his face. I could feel the heat building beneath my skin, the restless energy that had nowhere to go.

"You think I don't know what we're walking into?" I grabbed his hand, pressed it against my chest where my heart hammered wildly. "You think I'm not terrified? That I don't see their faces every time I close my eyes?"

His fingers splayed against my skin, and I felt the first tremor in his steady hands.

"I know what fear is," he said, voice lower, rougher. "I know what you carry."

"Then stop treating me like I'll break." I rolled my hips against his, feeling the hard ridge of his arousal beneath me. "I'm not fragile."

His breathing changed, became less measured. The lifelines across his chest pulsed. His tail, previously still, now swept restlessly across the stone behind him.

"Claire, this isn't?—"

"Shut up." I kissed him again, harder this time, biting his lower lip. "I don't want careful. I don't want controlled."

"I want you to lose it, just once."

I slid my hands beneath his tunic, tracing the contours of muscle and sinew. His skin burned hot against my palms, the raised patterns of his lifelines thrumming with energy. I pushed the fabric up, exposing the expanse of his silver-toned chest with its intricate network of golden lines.

"You keep everything locked down so tight," I murmured against his throat, tasting the salt of his skin. "What are you so afraid of?"

His hands moved to my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. "That I'll hurt you."

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