Page 16 of An Alien for Her Heart

“I’m not sure what it is.” But as I strain to see through the milling crowd, I realize that the cause of the commotion is nothing more than a pair of drunken Zilox’s, their voices raised in a slurred and incoherent argument.

I’m just about to relax my guard when one of the Ziloxs stumbles out of the alley and into the main thoroughfare. He’s a big brute of a creature, with a thick, scaly hide and a mouth full of jagged teeth. And he’s heading straight for us, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

Someone cries out as he almost tramples them, his staggered steps sending him straight into the stall beside us. The thing topples, sending wares cascading into the street.

Without thinking, I turn and grip Catherine, taking her with me out of the way as the Zilox lurches past. He’s so close that I can smell the sour reek of alcohol on his breath, can feel the power in his frame as he bumps into me, sending a growl through my throat. This is no place to stagger around in a drunken stupor. He could have seriously hurt Catherine if I wasn’t standing here to block her with my frame.

For a moment, I’m frozen in place, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the Zilox weave his way unsteadily down the street, irritated sounds and curses from other annoyed shoppers in his wake. But then I feel Catherine’s hand on my arm, and I realize just how I’m holding her. I’ve gripped her to my chest, lifting her from the ground and forcing her to either wrap her thighs around me or hang awkwardly in my arms. And she’s chosen the first option.

Now, I freeze for a whole other reason. Still looking over my shoulder, I don’t dare to turn my attention to the female in my arms, because the moment I do, I’ll have to release her. So I continue watching the Zilox stumble away.

Zynar, that little pile of excrement. He didn’t tell me this is how his human mate feels. I’ve touched her before, even lifted her once, but not like this. It was nothing like this.

Catherine is soft. So incredibly, frakking soft. She’s lithe and yet there is flesh there for my claws to grab and sink into. The thought makes lifeblood rush to the wrong place, and I dare not adjust myself.

Catherine’s breath hitches as she clings to me, her digits digging into the scales on my arms. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine, the hammering of her core-beat echoing through my body like a vibration that aligns with mine.

I close my eyes for a moment, seeking that thing deep inside me that I want to awaken so much. My core-rhythm. But there is nothing there. It’s as silent as it’s always been, and a wave of disappointment swells within me.

I’m hoping again. Hoping against reality while the very essence of my being remains dormant. I’m wanting this female in my arms to be something that she isn’t. And yet, I can’t release her. Despite myself, despite all she’s said in the ride to town, that hope still grows.

I know I should let her go. Know that the longer I hold her like this, the harder it will be to pretend that this is just a fleeting moment of protection, a brief lapse in the careful distance I’ve tried to maintain between us.

But I can’t seem to make myselfmove. I don’t know what the frakk is wrong with my arms. I can’t seem to let go of the feel of her against me, the way her body molds itself to mine like it was always meant to be there.

And so I stay, my arms wrapped around her like a shield against the world, my head dipping slightly into the soft curtain of her mane. I breathe in the scent of her, a heady mix of sweat and cleansing foam and something else. Something uniquely her.

Catherine suddenly stirs in my arms, her muscles tensing as she begins to pull away.

“Varek,” she whispers, a strange sound in her voice that cuts through my thoughts. “You can put me down now.”

Reluctantly, I loosen my grip, letting her slide down the length of my body until her feet touch the ground once more. She takes a step back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide, and for a moment I think she’s going to bolt, to run away from the intensity of what just passed between us.

I’m an idiot. Such a fool. That was too much and far too soon. Far too sudden. If she denies my assistance on her farm now, I would deserve her judgment.

But then she takes a deep breath, and I see a flicker of something in her eyes. Something fierce and determined, a glint of steel beneath the softness.

“Thank you,” she says again, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands as she adjusts the satchel she brought. She’s frowning, her brow drawn low and her gaze is on the crowd that’s slowly returning to normal. She does not face me. “For getting me out of the way.”

I’ve messed this—whatever it is—up. I’ve messed it all up.

I jerk my chin to my chest, not trusting myself to speak. Not trusting myself not to say something foolish, something that will shatter this fragile truce between us.

But even as I stand there, tongue-tied and uncertain, I can feel the weight of Catherine’s gaze on me the moment I adjust the blade on my hip and look away. Can feel the unspoken questions that hang in the air between us. And behind all that, the stubborn whispers of possibility that tug at the edges of my consciousness.

Frakk.

“We should go, shouldn’t we?” She asks, looking away again and adjusting her tunic and satchel as my gaze shifts back to her. “Before any more of those males appear.”

“Right. Yes.”

Frakkkk.

I know, with a certainty that goes beyond mere instinct, that this moment will change everything. For a terrifying click, I wonder if she felt the hardness lingering in my trouse. I could punch myself if it wouldn’t draw more attention to the fact that I am, indeed, what my siblingkin has often called me in jest. A fool.

She walks slightly ahead of me as we head back to the truck and I pause as we go past another stall with the fruits she’d wanted so much. I open my mouth to stop her, but the mood is ruined, so I slam my jaw shut and continue on. She leads the way to the truck, finding it with zero trouble, and I open the door to let her in. Walking around to the other side, I see the Kalgonite is quick. The back is already filled with the beams, bolts, and roof material we purchased. There’s no reason to tarry.

Opening the door, I find Catherine sitting with her gaze forward. She offers me a tight smile and I admire her effort of trying to keep the air between us amicable, even as something deep inside me twists.

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