Page 10 of Bound to the Bounty Hunter

We crept closer, and I set about crafting makeshift brushes from local fibers. As I worked, I stole glances at Arkon. His usual predatory grace seemed at odds with the delicate task before him.

“Ready?” I asked, handing him the improvised tool.

Arkon nodded, every line of his body radiating a mix of determination and resigned amusement. He approached the leaf with surprising stealth for someone his size.

My fingers clenched as he extended the brush, his movements careful and precise. The first moth twitched its wings but remained still as Arkon gently stroked its back.

A small cloud of iridescent dust floated into the air, and I rushed forward with a collection vial. “Perfect,” I whispered. “Keep going.”

As Arkon continued his unlikely task, I couldn’t look away. The fearsome Vinduthi bounty hunter, delicately petting enormous insects - it was a sight I never thought I’d see.

“You’re quite good at this,” I teased, unable to resist.

Arkon shot me a look that was part exasperation, part something else I couldn’t quite name. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

I laughed softly, the sound carrying on the humid air. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As we worked, I became very aware of Arkon’s proximity. His warmth, the soft sound of his breathing - it all threatened to overwhelm my senses.

“I think that’s enough,” I said, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears.

Arkon stepped back, his eyes meeting mine, pinning me with the intensity of his gaze.

“Samira,” he began.

A sharp cry from a nearby creature shattered the moment. We both snapped back to attention, the reality of our situation crashing down around us.

“Good job,” I said quickly, securing the vial of moth dust. “The station awaits.”

As we set off towards our goal, an undeniable sense remained that something had shifted between us - something as delicate and unpredictable as the dust we’d just collected.

I crouched down, my fingers working quickly to mix the iridescent moth dust with the sticky sap of a nearby plant. The resulting paste had a pungent, earthy smell that made my nose wrinkle.

I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between Arkon’s specialized gear and my own haphazard outfit. My once-pristine lab coat was now a patchwork of jungle stains and tears, a far cry from the efficient scientist I used to be.

“This should do it,” I said, holding up a glob of the mixture. “We need to cover every inch of exposed skin and clothing.”

Arkon eyed the paste with obvious distaste. “You’re certain this will work?”

“Reasonably.” I shrugged. “It’s our best shot at getting past those plants undetected.”

He sighed, then held out his hand. “Very well. Let’s get this over with.”

I scooped up a generous amount and began applying it to Arkon’s arm. His skin was cool to the touch, the gray surface marked with intricate black patterns. As I spread the paste, I couldn’t help but admire the lean muscle beneath my fingertips.

Arkon winced as I worked the mixture into the fabric of his envirosuit. “This smells worse than a Krelaxian sewer.”

“You’ve been in Krelaxian sewers?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

I chuckled, continuing to cover him in the sticky substance. When I reached his face, our eyes met.

I forgot to breathe.

Arkon cleared his throat. “I can do that part myself.”

“Right. Of course.” I stepped back, my cheeks burning. “I’ll just... start on myself.”

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