Page 25 of Alien Boss. Human Pet

I turn to glare at him. “She just woke up. Give her a moment.”

“We don’t have moments, Raekon,” Pyke snaps, his scales shimmering with frustration. “The Grolgath trafficking ring is still out there, and we’re no closer to stopping them.”

Willow sits up, her voice shaky but firm. “I… I think I know where the base is.”

Pyke’s head snaps toward her, his brow ridges lifting. “Explain.”

She swallows hard, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her shirt. “Malkus… he was so focused on keeping me out of his thoughts that he drew my attention to what he was hiding. It’s like… he circled it in his mind. I saw it. I know where it is.”

Pyke’s eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of hope in them. “Talk.”

She nods, and Pyke motions for us to follow him to his office. I help Willow to her feet, her hand small and warm in mine. She leans into me as we walk, her body still trembling from the ordeal. I don’t let go.

The holographic globe in Pyke’s office hums to life as we step inside, the Earth rotating slowly above the desk. Willow steps forward, her eyes scanning the surface. She points to a remote area in the Andes. “There. It’s underground, shielded. But it’s there.”

Pyke zooms in on the location, his fingers flying over the controls. The image sharpens, revealing a series of unnatural formations hidden beneath the mountain range. He lets out a low whistle. “Clever bastards. We’ve been scanning the surface for months, but they’ve been under our noses the whole time.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Now what?”

Pyke sighs, rubbing the ridges on his forehead. “Now, we plan. But first—” He looks at me, then at Willow, his expression softening slightly. “I should reprimand both of you for your recklessness. But I suppose, to borrow a phrase from my human wife, all’s well that ends well.”

Willow lets out a shaky laugh, leaning into me. “I’ll take that as a win.”

I squeeze her hand, my scales brushing against her skin. “So will I.”

Pyke shakes his head, muttering something about insubordinate agents and Jalshagar bonds, but I’m too focused on Willow to care. She’s safe. That’s all that matters.

CHAPTER 13

WILLOW

The limo glides through the streets of New York, the city’s skyline a blur of steel and glass outside the tinted windows. I fidget with the delicate beading on the cuffs of my wedding gown, the fabric whispering against my skin. The dress is perfect—elegant, timeless, and just a little bit daring with its low V-back. But it’s hard to focus on how I look when my stomach is doing somersaults.

Captain Pyke sits across from me, his massive frame taking up most of the seat. His red scales gleam under the soft interior lighting, and his sharp, ridged features are softened by the smile he’s wearing. He’s dressed in a tailored suit that somehow manages to make him look both imposing and refined.

“You look beautiful, Willow,” he says, his deep voice warm and steady. “When Raekon sees you, it’s going to be game over.”

I glance up at him, my fingers stilling on the beadwork. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leans forward slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That man’s been head over heels for you since the moment you walked into his office. And today? He’s going to be completely undone.”

I feel a blush creep up my neck, and I duck my head, smoothing the fabric of my skirt. “Thank you, Captain. That means a lot coming from you.”

He waves a hand dismissively, but there’s a softness in his expression that makes my chest tighten. “It’s an honor to be here, Willow. Truly. Though I’m sorry your father couldn’t be the one to give you away.”

I stiffen at the mention of my father, my hands clenching in the fabric of my dress. “I’m not,” I say, my voice sharper than I intend. “I’m not sad at all.”

Pyke tilts his head, his brow ridges furrowing. “No?”

I shake my head, my gaze fixed on the city outside. “He always blamed me for my mother drinking herself to death. When he passed on, it was more of a relief than anything else. Sometimes I feel like a terrible person.”

There’s a long pause, and then Pyke clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t mean to?—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I interrupt, turning back to him with a small smile. “You’ve been more of a father to me than my real dad in the year we’ve known each other. I can’t think of anyone who deserves to give me away at my wedding more than you.”

Pyke blinks rapidly, his eyes suspiciously bright. He turns his head away, pretending to adjust his cufflinks. “Damn allergies,” he mutters, his voice gruff. “They’re terrible this time of year. My eyes are watering like crazy.”

I laugh softly, the tension in my chest easing. “Sure, Captain. Allergies.”

---