Page 35 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
She swung her legs over the side of her bunk, and the bare floor made her curl her toes up, the cold making her wake up properly.
In the corner, Spot's optical sensors dimmed in low-power mode, the little drakeen core positioned to face the door even while "sleeping." Always on guard. Smart little bot.
"Screw this," she muttered, yanking on sweatpants and a tank top.
The ship’s night cycle meant empty corridors, dim lighting, and blessed quiet. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she headed for the galley. Hot chocolate. That's what she needed. Something sweet and warm to drive away the restlessness in her bones.
The galley dispenser hummed as it worked, the familiar sound filling the empty space. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
Why couldn't she get him out of her head?
Hot mug in hand, she found herself heading for the observation lounge instead of back to her quarters. She needed space. Perspective. Something bigger than the storm in her head.
The lounge door slid open to darkness broken only by starlight streaming through the viewport. The vast emptiness beyond made her chest tighten. She grabbed a blanket from storage, settled into the curved seat, and wrapped herself up like a cocoon.
Stars streaked past, ribbons of blue-white against black. Two weeks ago, she'd been Rettnor's puppet. Now she was racing through hyperspace with alien mercenaries while developing feelings for a man who might not be entirely human.
Her life had turned into a bad holodrama.
Her mind drifted to the medbay… Davis shirtless, that strange scar already fading, and the intensity in his eyes as he watched her. And Jex's blunt message:Physiological analysis: pupil dilation, elevated heart rate, pheromone release. Subject is experiencing sexual arousal. Specifically directed toward you.
Her face heated. Damn Jex and his clinical observations.
"Can't sleep either?"
Mira jerked upright. Hot chocolate sloshed over her hand.
"Shit!" She twisted toward the voice, her heart slamming against her ribs. "Davis?"
He emerged from the darkest corner, where the starlight couldn't reach. He'd been there the whole time. Watching her. Silent as a ghost.
"Sorry." His voice held no real apology. "Didn't mean to startle you."
The words were normal. The man wasn't.
He moved differently… something liquid and predatory in his steps as he crossed the space between them. His shoulders looked broader, his height more imposing. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold.
They caught the starlight like an animal's, reflecting back with unnatural brightness. Those eyes tracked her every small movement as he approached.
She put her mug down, steadying her trembling hand against the small table. "I didn't know anyone was in here."
"Apparently." The corner of his mouth lifted. Not quite a smile. "You've been avoiding me."
"I haven't?—"
"Yes," he cut her off, stepping closer, “you have."
The temperature seemed to spike between them. Mira stood, the blanket falling to pool at her feet. Something primitive in her brain screameddanger.
"After what happened in medbay," she said, backing up a step, "and then this morning with Rann, I thought you wanted space."
"Space." He tested the word, rolled it around his mouth. "Is that what you think I want, Mira?"
The way he said her name, like something precious and dangerous at once… She took another step back. He matched it.
"I don't know what you want," she admitted. "You've been different since the M'Suun attack."
His gaze raked down her body, lingering on her breasts beneath the thin tank top, the curve of her hips. "Different how?"
