Page 20 of The Build Up

It’s just the two of us today. Ami’s back at the secure compound—yet another of the properties Tarak seems to collect like trinkets—being babysat by Riana and guarded by Kail.

Surprisingly, they wanted to tag along.

Riana, I could understand, but Kail?

He’s one of the biggest, hardest, scariest warriors of the First Division, a man of few words who only reveals his true self to two people in the Universe—his mate and his commander, in that particular order.

And he only gives the best parts of himself toher.

I never thought he would agree to a holiday, but here we are.

Kail and Riana seem to have taken a particular interest in my little project here.

Hmm, I wonder why?

The doors slide open, and Tarak steps out before me, offering me his hand.

What a perfect Kordolian gentleman. He’s dressed seriously for the occasion, wearing a simple deep bluekashkanover black trousers and boots. There isn’t a single crease. His hair is trimmed and faded to military precision. The dark glasses give him a rakish air.

My heart skips a beat.

He’s as stunning as ever.

In contrast, I’m big, ungainly, and slightly sweaty. My loose hair is slightly tousled, and I thank the stars for the silky floral dress that makes me look somewhat pulled together.

Tarak smiles slightly, furrowing his brow, making me blush.

What?

He’s always looking at me like that—as if I’m the most ravishing creature in the Universe, which is the polar opposite of how I feel right now.

Little One is kicking again, fluttering along with the frantic patter of my heartbeat.

Tarak pulls me up, almost lifting me off my feet, momentarily making me feel as light as a feather.

He wraps his fingers around mine and leads me to the front office. The blast of the midday heat is intense—like being in a furnace—but we quickly walk through sleek sliding doors into a cool office that looks out onto a central courtyard filled with lush tropical vegetation.

The interior is sleek and minimalistic, with polished concrete floors and beige and white furnishings. A receptionist sits behind the counter. She’s on a holo-call with someone, the other person concealed by a privacy screen.

“Of course,” she says calmly to the person on the other end, giving us a brief glance. Her eyes widen in surprise as she notices Tarak. “Principal Bonsen is currently in a tele-meeting, but I’ll let her know that you called. She’ll reach out to you when she’s available. You have a good day now.”

Wearing a miffed expression, she terminates the call and turns to us. “Can I help you?”

“We have an appointment with Principal Bonsen at 12,” I reply, hoping my sunny simple will offset the shock of Tarak’s presence.

He’s right—there’s no point in hiding. Not when he and his people have made Earth into their second home. Not when they’re responsible for protecting the entire human species.

There’s no way he would’ve let me come alone anyway. He’s naturally protective, but even more so now that I’m carrying our child.

When we’re on Earth, and he’s not around, one of the First Division guys will always be within earshot.

“I’ll let her know you’re here.” The receptionist’s shock is quickly hidden behind a bright but not entirely happy smile. “Please take a seat.”

Tarak says nothing, allowing me to take the lead. He just looms behind me, radiating an intimidating aura. He can’t help it. It’s just who he is.

Thankfully, there’s nobody else around. I look out the windows, my gaze drawn to a tranquil pond. A turtle drifts to the surface, looks around, then disappears back into the murky depths.

Beyond the lush vegetation is the rest of the school, which is made up of low-set pavilions connected by breezy shaded walkways. It’s very different from the high school I attended growing up, where most classes were held virtually, interspersed with the occasional field trip or practical session.

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