Page 14 of Protected By the Alien Knight

Crux kisses me then, and the world falls away. It’s a kiss of reassurance and tenderness, and I can feel his emotions pouring into it. When we finally break apart, he smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

“You are the strongest, most resilient female I’ve ever met,” he murmurs. “You have survived far worse than an extended sabbatical. You will endure this and emerge stronger than before.”

I blink away the sudden sting of tears, swallowing thickly. Crux surrounds me in his protective embrace, and I feel so treasured.

After our heated discussion and reconciliation, Crux and I retire to the small courtyard behind his humble dwelling. I settle onto a flat rock warmed by the morning sun, datapad in hand to review the latest diplomatic updates from my staff. Crux, meanwhile, sheds his tunic and begins a series of meticulous warm-up exercises across the open training ground.

I can’t help stealing furtive glances over the rim of the datapad, utterly transfixed by the powerful, controlled movements of his chiseled form. The way those toned muscles ripple and shift beneath his lilac skin is nothing short of hypnotic. Each precise strike and block seem almost like an intricate dance, belying the sheer lethality sheathed within his honed physique.

As if sensing the weight of my admiring stare, Crux transitions into a complicated series of defensive maneuvers. My mouth goes dry watching him twist and flow through each stance with unconscious grace. When he launches into a blinding series of kicks and jabs, I can practically feel the displacement of air with each deadly strike.

It’s enough to rekindle the lingering embers of desire smoldering low in my belly. Entirely unbidden, the memories of that same powerful body pinning me to the mattress flood my mind’s eye. The scorching glide of his calloused palms over my bare skin, the heated brand of his mouth devouring me inch by exquisite inch...

Lips parting on a ragged inhalation, I quickly look away, my entire face aflame. Crux seems utterly oblivious to the effect he’s having on me, focused solely on the intensity of his training regimen.

I clear my throat awkwardly and focus on the datapad before me, scrolling through the latest updates from my aide.Still no message from Max or Alice.The thought brings a small amount of frustration. It’s not like my children to leave me hanging for this long, and a seed of unease is beginning to sprout in my gut.

I have no time to dwell on that as a flicker of motion on the horizon catches my eye. A sleek vessel is descending rapidly through the rose-tinted clouds, bleeding speed in a controlled deceleration toward our location.

“Crux?” I call out, apprehension lacing my tone as I see a vessel with an arrowhead design and glossy obsidian hull. “We have an incoming ship.”

He pauses mid-kick, head cocked as he tracks the approaching craft. After a moment’s assessment, he turns to me with a grim set to his chiseled features.

“That’s one of our Elite Knighthood vessels,” he says flatly. “Most likely it’s Ven’ari coming to make good on his ultimatum.”

His gaze locked onto the approaching shuttle, he approaches a keypad on the wall and enters a series of runic-looking symbols.

The air around the dwelling shimmers and distorts for the span of a gasping breath. Then, with a sound like a thunderclap, an entire section of the cliff face seems to dissolve, revealing the shimmering facade of an immense concealment barrier. My jaw drops as I gape at the newly materialized opening—easily large enough for a heavily armored transport to pass through.

This humble dwelling is far more than mere lodgings. Crux’s true home is a sprawling, ultra-secure safe house built directly into the heart of the towering crimson cliffs. Reinforced gundrian walls and military-grade deflector shielding flicker into view beyond the entrance are testaments to the formidable defensive measures concealed here. I realize with a start that the cozy, sparse furnishings were just a facade over an entiresubterranean bunker bristling with state-of-the-art ordnance and security systems.

As the shuttle makes its final approach, Crux turns to face me fully. In that heated moment, his eyes are vivid molten amber, the tattoo which marks his Knighthood glows with fierce inner light. He is equal parts terrifying and magnificent. And the look in his eyes wordlessly conveys that I am the most precious thing in his world now.Not duty. Not even his honor. Just me.

No matter what fresh turmoil Ven’ari and his superiors unleash, I know with every fiber of my being that Crux will never waver from my side.

six

Crux

The thrum of theshuttle’s engines reverberates through the valley like a leviathan stirring. Ven’ari’s vessel is a sleek, arrowhead craft of midnight black with Avenian Order markings emblazoned in white upon the nose. I hesitate for just a moment. Allowing him and his security team to breach this sanctuary feels like I’m willingly ushering in the monstrous slythara that will strike Annie’s light down for good.

But I know that shutting them out entirely, provoking an armed siege, would only escalate the situation beyond repair. No, better to confront the commander’s demands head-on. I’m gambling a great deal on being able to reason with Ven’ari, to make him see my point.It’s a wager I must take, for Annie’s sake...

Annie’s delicate hand finds the small of my back, grounding me in the eye of this brewing storm. Even without glancing sidelong, I’m acutely aware of the tense set to her shoulders, the careful neutrality she’s attempting to project. For all herdiplomatic expertise, she can’t disguise her apprehension from me.

No words pass between us as the obsidian craft completes its final descent, kicking up crimson dust devils in its wake. I angle my body slightly, ready to shield Annie from any threat at a moment’s notice.Protecting her is paramount.

The ramp clanks to the earth, and four hulking knights fan out in a loose semicircle around Ven’ari’s reptilian form, hands resting ominously on their sword pommels.

The suffocating silence stretches unbearably until, finally, Ven’ari breaks the standoff. One scaly fist clenches in a subtle gesture, and the phalanx of knights stands down, allowing him to approach alone. His steady gait eats up the distance until he stops within an arm’s length.

Ven’ari’s lip curls into a sneer as he takes a predatory step closer toward us. “Tell me,” the elder knight rumbles at last, “is hiding out here truly the defiant stance you wish to take? Pathetic, even for you, Cruxian.”

I remain motionless, refusing to be baited. Over Annie’s shoulder, I can see the rest of the security detail has fanned out, no doubt to remind me of the threat they pose. The glint of readied plasma weapons means I must tread carefully.

“I’m not hiding, and this isn’t defiance, Commander,” I reply at length, my tone level despite the simmering undercurrent of barely restrained anger. “It is refusal to blindly follow orders and protocols that callously disregard sworn duties and Ambassador Agnew’s lawful safety, which you seem intent on undermining.”

Ven’ari’s eyes blaze like twin rubies, his tail lashing once in irritation. “Mind your tone, Knight,” he warns, leaning in until wisps of his fetid breath scald my face. “I am Hand of the Grandmaster himself. Our decisions heed greater strategic priorities than indulging a single human diplomat’s safety.”

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