Page 89 of Alien Warrior Chef… With Benefits
My chest shifts around her words—they taste like dawn and home. “You…you’d offer me this?”
She smirks, corners of her lips quivering. “Damn right. You nearly died. You don’t get to say no.”
The gravity of that moment pulls me toward the ground—and toward her. The world feels just large enough for the two of us. I drop to one knee on the rooftop metal (uncomfortable—my armor creaks—but I don’t move). “Then I choose you, Ruby Adams,” I say, voice steady as steel. “In all lifetimes.”
I look up to her—battle-tested brilliance gleaming in her eyes. She kneels beside me, folds around me like a promise.
We lean into each other—kiss under Novaria’s twin moons, sealing vows unspoken until now.
The warrior and the baker, bonded by blood, battle, and undying love.
CHAPTER 27
RUBY
Ifeel the warm breeze of the cliffside gardens like a soft promise against my bare shoulders, fragrant with jasmine and ultrablue moon lilies. The crystalline riverbanks of Novaria glow like molten quartz in the distance, reflecting the gentle afternoon sun that sparkles through my starlight silk gown. I can taste excitement—a heady sip of honey-sweet air and promises—as I glance at the walkway lined with rose-petaled lanterns, each gently swaying to the soft rhythm of Vakutan chants echoing across the terrace.
My heart pounds against the fabric draping my chest, not from nerves—but simply because this is happening. I’mhere, about to marry Rekkgar. Everything I ever feared or desired is wrapped up in that tall, scarred warrior waiting at the altar beneath a canopy of sugared flowers.
I step forward, the fabric of my dress whispering against the marble floor, crenellated with crystalline veins that catch the light like tiny constellations. Guests from every corner of the Galaxy rise in hushed awe—the polished scales of diplomats, the glitter of alien couture, the star-sparked attire of traders and warriors mingling under this breathtaking sky.
Rekkgar stands tall in ceremonial Vakutan armor hewn black as obsidian, veins of rose-gold filigree winding over chest plates and shoulder pauldrons, crimson gemstones shining like the heart of a nova. The armor fits him like a second skin, as if it grew from his will and purpose. His scarred jaw is taut as a drawn bow, but when our eyes meet across the aisle, the steel melts and there’s that spark—the one that ignites strength with softness.
The Vakutan priest—his old mentor—steps forward, his voice a deep reverberation in the still air. I swallow as I draw closer to the altar, pink petals crunching softly beneath my slippers. The scent of sugared roses and ceremony floats in every breath. My dress shimmers: silk woven with starlight fibers, threads that pulse softly as if they have their own heartbeat.
I stand beside Rekkgar, our fingers brushing until we entwine like tangled vines. I see his chest rise with the weight of a lifetime’s battles—and the strength of a future he’s never allowed himself to dream he could have.
The priest begins. Vakutan words, fluid with ritual, echo into the gathering dusk. Then—my turn. I lean forward, voice steady despite dancing nerves:
“Rekkgar,” I say, heart pounding louder than the murmured gasps in the crowd, “from the moment I first tasted your chocolate chip muffin top, I knew you were something extraordinary. But I never could have imagined I’d stand here with you—my warrior, my rock, my... partner in cupcake domination.”
The sudden laughter ripples through the guests—soft, joyful—but my gaze never wavers from Rekkgar. His copper-infused cybernetic eye glimmers. I hold his hand tighter.
“I vow to stand by you—not just in sugar highs and soft beginnings, but in battles fierce and futures bright. I promise to protect your heart, as fiercely as you protect mine. To loveyou with all the sweetness and fire I carry. And to dominate the galaxy—one cupcake at a time.”
An audible gasp. Then more laughter. Even Rekkgar smiles—first time, a small ghost—but then it ignites into the kind of grin that threatens to crack his stoic mask.
He clears his throat, voice low and measured but full of feeling:
“Ruby—of all the worlds I’ve stood guard over, none hold my loyalty like your heart. I promise now, in witness of the stars and our kin, to be your shield, your solace, and your partner—never to stand apart, never to let you face fear alone. I love you, in this life and whatever lives come next. I choose you—always.”
The Vakutan priest raises a ceremonial array of petals and proclaims: “By the cosmic bond, I pronounce you mates for life!” He dusts us with rose petals. The guests break into thunderous applause.
Time bends in that moment, petals drifting like slow-dancing embers around us. Rekkgar lifts my hand, kisses it. Then—our first kiss as husband and wife, soft yet bursting with the same power that carried us through every trial. It's like tasting the sweetest honey from the first blossom of spring, yet tempered with the burn of everything we've survived.
The reception bloomslike a meteor shower in celebration. Earth?Bites transformed the gardens into a galaxy of confectionary marvels. Long tables heave with zero-G fizz macarons—tiny orbs that pop and fizz on the tongue; galaxy-shaped muffins with swirls of violet and silver; and the pièce de résistance: a seven-tier wedding cake sculpted to look like a meteor shower suspended in mid-air by invisible nano-tendrils, interfused with stardust glaze.
Lyrie flirts with the DJ—her every laugh a melodic chime that elevates the music—while Vonn, brimming with mischievous spirit, downed six cups of hyper-cocoa and challenges the ambassador of the Andrus Cluster to a dance-off. The ambassador accepted, and she stomped him into a comedic defeat, dappling the floor with cocoa-slicked moves. The crowd roars; our wedding has turned into cosmic theater.
Rekkgar stands nearby, broad arm around my waist. I lean into him, feeling every inch of him—solid, real, scarred, graceful. His lips lift in unguarded grin. He lights up the scene, no longer the dour sentinel but a man reborn.
I sigh contentment that seeps into my bones. I rest my head on his shoulder as fireworks bloom above—their trails sparkling violet, gold, crimson to match our wedding palette. The sky blossoms over Novaria, each burst a note in our song.
“I never thought my life would look like this,” I whisper against his breastplate, voice thick with joy and disbelief.
He nuzzles my temple. “Neither did I. But now…” He pauses to steady me, because we both know these words carry weight beyond fairy tale. “Now I can’t imagine anything else.”
The night deepens.
