Page 1 of Taken By the Alien Killer
CHAPTER 1
STAR
The Akuran sun doesn’t just shine—it performs. Everything’s bathed in that rich, gold syrup light, like the world’s been dipped in honey. It drips warm across the ivory tiles beneath me, clinging to the silk of my lounging dress like it’s jealous I wore anything at all. I shift, one leg curled under me, the other stretched toward the end of the chaise, and the light licks up the inside of my thigh that makes me feel vaguely indecent. Not that anyone’s looking.
Well. Maybe one person is. But he’s pretending not to.
Rayek sits across from me like he’s part of the furniture. Giant, still, unreadable. I don’t know how someone his size can vanish into the background so easily, but he does. Like a shadow that grew teeth. The only giveaway he’s alive is the occasional blink—or the way his golden eyes keep narrowing at the chessboard between us like it personally insulted his ancestors.
“Your move, big guy,” I say, flicking a pawn off the board and into my glass of fruit wine. It lands with a softplop, sending a lazy ripple through the deep red liquid. The pawn bobs once, then spins, sinking like it knows it’s lost.
Rayek doesn’t answer. Just stares. Always so damn serious. Like he thinks every game of chess is a battle that could end lives.
“You know, most people play this for fun,” I try again. “Light banter. Witty remarks. Flirting, even. You’re allowed to smile. Won’t crack your face, I promise.”
He lifts one hand—slow, deliberate—and moves his knight two spaces.
I sigh theatrically. “Gods, your sense of whimsy is overwhelming. I might faint.”
“Try not to,” he rumbles without looking up. “There are stairs nearby. I’d rather not carry you down again.”
“Oh please. You live to carry me.” I stretch, just enough to make the bodice of my dress strain. A bead of sweat trails down between my breasts and disappears under the fabric. “Admit it.”
His gaze flicks up, just for a second. Just long enough to see. To notice. Then it’s back on the board, and his jaw tightens.
“I live to keep you alive,” he says.
“That’s not a denial.”
A silence stretches between us, taut as a drawn bowstring. The garden around us hums with life—chirping bugs, rustling leaves, the faint scent of those fat peach-blossoms that always bloom too early and drop their petals like they’re scandalized by the heat.
I swirl the glass in my hand, watching the wine lap at the sides. Sweet and tart, like most things on this planet. Like me, if I’m being generous. I pluck the pawn out and flick it away with a sharpclickof my nail.
Rayek’s still as ever, massive arms resting on his thighs, hands steepled together like he’s meditating over battle plans. The sun glints off his black scales—those silver striations catching the light like someone took a blade to him and the wounds healed into something beautiful. He smells like metaland smoke and leather sun-warmed after a day of not enough shade. My stomach does something stupid.
“You know,” I say, prodding a bishop with the tip of one finger, “most people would kill for a day like this. Beautiful weather. Gorgeous company.” I smile. “Me, I just get the brooding bodyguard.”
“I’m not paid to entertain you.”
“Good thing,” I shoot back. “You’d owe me a refund.”
Another twitch of his lip. Not quite a smirk. But close. Victory.
I watch him for a moment longer, taking in the way he moves—not that he moves much. But I know him well enough to read the microexpressions, the weight shifts, the tiny tells. I’ve had over a decade of practice. I could map him blind.
Sometimes, he still surprises me.
I draw my next piece and tap it on the board absently, eyes drifting past him to the horizon. The city’s distant from here, just a shimmer of tall spires and gravity rails, blurred by heat. All of it feels fake today. Like it belongs to someone else’s life.
I lean forward, propping my chin on one hand. “Do you ever think about leaving?”
Rayek’s fingers pause above the board.
“Leaving what?” he asks carefully.
“This.” I gesture around the courtyard. “Akura. Chamberland. Guard duty. Me.”
His eyes cut to mine, sharp and sudden. “Never you.”
