Page 23 of Wrecked By My Alien Mentor

Her eyes widen. “Why? I thought I was just handling spreadsheets and… other things.”

“Luhr’s in the area. He’s sniffing around, looking for someone close to Orion Weller. Pyke wants to use you as bait to draw him out.”

Cora’s face pales, but she doesn’t flinch. “Okay. When do we start?”

I stare at her, my chest tightening. “You’re not scared?”

“Terrified,” she admits. “But if this is what it takes to keep us safe, I’ll do it. Besides, I’ve got you to teach me, right?”

I reach for her hand, my scales brushing against her soft skin. “Always.”

I feel the words clawing their way up my throat, a truth I can’t hold back any longer. My chest tightens, my scales bristling with the weight of it. I pull her closer, my massive frame dwarfing hers, and the words tumble out, raw and unfiltered.

“I love you, Cora.”

She freezes in my arms, her body stiffening like she’s been hit with a stun blast. She pulls back, her green eyes wide, searching mine. “Do you?” she asks, her voice soft, almost fragile.

The vulnerability in her tone guts me. I take her face in my hands, my claws careful not to scratch her delicate skin. “Of course I do. You’re brilliant, brave, and you’ve got more character in your little finger than I’ve got in my entire body. How could I not love you?”

Her lips curve into a smile, slow and luminous, like a sunrise breaking over a battlefield. “Good,” she says, her voice steady now, “because I love you too.”

I don’t give her a chance to say more. I tilt her head up, closing the distance between us, and kiss her with everythingI’ve got. It’s rough, possessive, and full of the heat that’s been building between us for weeks. Her hands grip my shoulders, her fingers digging into my scales, and I can feel the shiver that runs through her.

When I finally pull back, her eyes are dark, her breath coming in short gasps. “Orion,” she breathes, and my name on her lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

I sweep her up into my arms, her legs locking around my waist instinctively. She laughs, a low, husky sound that sends a jolt of heat straight to my core. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” I growl, my voice rough with need. “Unless you’ve got an objection.”

She grins, her teeth grazing my neck in a playful nip. “Not a single one.”

I carry her up the stairs, her weight nothing to me, her laughter echoing through the riverboat. When we reach the bedroom, I set her down gently, but she doesn’t let go, her arms still wrapped around my neck. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s no fear, no hesitation—just hunger.

“You’re sure?” I ask, because I have to. Because even now, with her body pressed against mine, I need to know she’s with me, that she’s chosen this—chosenme.

“Always,” she whispers.

CHAPTER 11

CORA

The shuttle glides through the water, the ocean a dark, endless expanse outside the reinforced glass. I press my face against the window, my breath fogging the surface as Veritas Base Alpha comes into view. It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie—a massive, glowing dome that seems to hum with energy, its translucent surface shimmering like a mirage. Inside, I can see the faint outlines of towering structures, their lights twinkling like stars in an underwater sky.

“Focus, Cora.” Orion’s voice cuts through my awe, sharp but not unkind. His scaled hands move over the control panel with practiced ease, the red of his skin catching the soft blue light of the shuttle’s interior. “You’re going to need to know how to do this yourself.”

I tear my eyes away from the view and lean closer to the console. The symbols on the buttons are familiar—I’ve been studying the Vakutan language in my spare time, though it’s slow going. “That’s the docking sequence, right?” I point to a cluster of symbols. “And that one’s for stabilizing the thrusters.”

Orion’s purple eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place—approval, maybe. “Not bad. You’re picking it up faster than I expected.”

“Well, Iama quick study.” I grin, though my heart’s still racing from the sheer scale of the base. “But, uh, maybe let’s not test that theory today. I’d rather not crash into the side of that dome.”

He snorts, a low, rumbling sound. “Fair enough. But next time, you’re flying.”

The shuttle slips through the dome’s permeable surface, and suddenly we’re inside. The base is even more breathtaking up close—gleaming towers, bustling walkways, and ships of all shapes and sizes moving through the air like fish in a coral reef. Orion guides the shuttle into a docking bay with the precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times before.

Once we’re docked, he leads me through the base, his massive frame cutting a path through the crowd of Vakutans and humans alike. I try not to gawk, but it’s hard—everything here is soalien, from the architecture to the technology to the people. Orion doesn’t seem to notice my wide-eyed wonder, or if he does, he’s too polite to mention it.

We reach the holo-gym, a vast, empty chamber that hums with potential. Orion taps a few commands into a console on the wall, and the room shifts, transforming into a crumbling urban landscape. The air smells like smoke and ash, and the sound of distant gunfire echoes in my ears.

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