Page 245 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Elera huffs. Umi snorts. They slither to their feet, wrapping themselves in fabric so sheer it’s practically a suggestion.
“Voryx, we’re off for a quick puff,” Umi says, over her shoulder as she stalks toward me with passive aggression dialed to eleven.
One of them bumps into me on her way past. Deliberate. Weak.
Todd snaps awake with aclackclackclackof his mandibles, sounding like he’s being attacked by vengeful jelly sticks.
“Don’t eat that one,” I murmur, gently stroking his rubbery runed back. “You’ll catch something.”
The door hisses shut behind the pineapple twins, and suddenly it’s quiet.
Just me, the Surfer Supreme, and the smell of damp coral sex stew hanging in the air like war crimes in aerosol form.
Voryx reclines against the ruined bed, his smugness returning now that the vote-blockers are gone.
His eyes crawl across my body like he’s tasting me with his ego.
I cross the room slowly, letting my hips sway with cosmic purpose. Divine Daughter on a mission. Sexy-Lexie: fully deployed.
“I wonder,” I murmur, brushing a strand of golden hair behind my ear, “have you ever touched something trulydivine?”
Voryx tilts his head, smirking. “I’ve touched plenty of things. Many considered... divine.”
I laugh softly, letting it curl around him like smoke. “No. You haven’t.” I climb onto the bed, sinking into the cratered mattress beside him, hovering just outside reach. “You’ve only touchedbasicgirls. Not an Earth girl blessed by the Gods.”
I lean in. He doesn’t breathe.
“You’ve never tasteddivinity.Neverfucked a star wrapped in a woman’s skin.” My hand trails along his collarbone, fingers tracing the curve of his chest.
His pupils blow wide.
I watch his hunger bloom—and let it. Feed it. Because I can feel the fire curling inside me too. Between my thighs, behind my eyes. This isn’t just a performance anymore. It’s exhilarating. Control. Adoration. Beautiful chaos.
“I was chosen, Voryx,” I whisper, lips inches from his ear. “Aenarael called me daughter. Arawnoth gave me fire. Their voices echo through me. Their marks... burn inside me.”
My eyes lock with his. Hungry. Wanton.
“If you prove yourself worthy, maybe I’ll let you feel what that’s like.”
He swallows. Hard. The air vibrates with tension.
His hand rises, reaching for my waist. And for one glorious, reckless heartbeat—I let him.
Then—Agony.
White-hot nausea slams through my gut like I’ve just eaten another brunch extravaganza. My breath catches. My stomachflips. Through the sacred bond, Dracoth’s side howls—rage, grief, betrayal—so loud it’s like being impaled with light.
My head spins. The room tilts.
Crap. Crap. Crap!
I lurch away, clutching my side, doubling over like I’ve just been stabbed in the ribs by Aenarael’s godly hairpins.
“Are you—are you okay?” Voryx blinks, startled. “Do the Nebians have a healing pod—?”
Play it cool, Lexie. Do. Not. Barf.
I cough dramatically, waving him off with a trembling hand. “Yes—yes. Just...” I suck in a breath, force the lie past the rising bile. “Our energy. My attraction to you—it’s too intense.”
