Page 36 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
"That’s defense… What about other applications?" she asked, pausing to catch her breath and pushing her hair back from her face.
His mind went straight to the gutter, and he had to haul it back before he answered. "Striking from a stable base. You're not trying to generate power through movement—you're using leverage and precision."
He moved behind her again, this time to adjust her arm position. The contact was necessary, professional, and absolutely devastating. She was warm and solid against his chest, her hair smelling like ship's soap and something uniquely her. He made sure to keep his hips back away from hers in case she got poked in the ass and realised the state he was in.
"Elbow strike uses core rotation," he managed, guiding her through the motion. "Knee strike leverages your good leg for power while the damaged one provides balance point."
She practiced the movements, her body flowing through the techniques with increasing confidence. Each repetition brought improvement, small victories that lit up her face with satisfaction. She was fighting for every small victory, and damn if that wasn't sexy as hell.
"These techniques," she said during a brief rest. "Where did you learn them?"
"Experience. You learn to adapt when standard techniques aren't enough."
The training room door chimed, breaking the charged atmosphere. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and then Sparky appeared in the doorway, his usual chaotic energy filling the space.
"Boss, quick question about the—" He stopped short, taking in the scene. "Oh. Didn't realize you were... training."
Tal seized the interruption like a lifeline, already moving toward his medical kit. "Perfect timing, Sparky. I need to examine that rash situation we discussed."
“Huh?” Sparky blinked, confusion replacing surprise. "I do?"
"Absolutely," Tal said, his tone brooking no argument as he looked toward Reese and T’Raal.
Understanding dawned on Sparky's face, followed immediately by theatrical dismay. "Oh,thatrash! Dammit, doc, I told you not to tell anyone about that!"
"Medical confidentiality doesn't apply when it might affect ship operations," Tal replied solemnly. "We should examine it. Immediately."
"Fine,” Sparky grumbled, allowing himself to be shepherded toward the door. “But warm your hands this time, okay?"
10
The training room felt smaller with just the two of them. Reese watched Tal and Sparky disappear down the corridor, their voices fading as they discussed medical conditions with theatrical seriousness.
"They're not subtle, are they?" She shook her head.
Sparky hadn’t been in the room long, but it had been enough for her to measure him up. Tall and lean, with muscle definition that spoke of someone who stayed in fighting shape, the other human had bleach-blonde hair in messy spikes. He was late thirties, maybe, with light brown eyes and a cheeky kind of unconventional handsomeness.
But it was the tattoos on his upper arms that had caught her attention. Four black bands, precisely placed, unmistakable in their meaning. Mirax Ruas. The worst prison in human space, where they sent people to die slowly rather than execute them quickly. No one walked out of Mirax Ruas. No one.
Yet he was walking around theSpritelike he owned it.
T'Raal shook his head and sighed. "No, no. Not at all."
The admission came with a rueful humor that transformed his features from harshly handsome, with hard lines and angles, to devastating.
"That man—Sparky," she said, trying to sound casual despite the urgency of her curiosity. "The tattoos on his arms. Four bands. You do know they’re from Mirax Ruas? That he’s a convict?"
T'Raal's expression shifted, amusement fading and the shutters going up. "Yeah."
"But that's impossible. No one walks out of Mirax Ruas. It's a death sentence." She studied his face, looking for answers to questions she wasn't sure she should ask. "How is he here?"
T'Raal shook his head. "Long story. Not mine to tell."
"Is he?—"
"He's my daughter's husband," T'Raal said. "Red. She was covering our extraction, on the ramp with the machine gun."
Reese stared at him in shock. "Your daughter... but you…”
