Swallowing his humiliation, Arakiba concentrated on the first female he’d ever seen. Princess Inanna from Akurn was beyond anything he’d imagined a female to look like. Her skin was so pale it glowed under the low light of the chamber. Her hair, a strange blend of reddish-blond strands, framed an alabaster face that was both serene and mysterious. But her eyes were the most striking—a bright turquoise that contrasted against the stark whiteness of her features.
She dressed simply, but her gown accentuated her royal presence.
He couldn’t help but acknowledge her beauty, but her appearance was more a curiosity than a draw. Like appreciating a golden sunrise.
But then, something shifted.
Arakiba watched her posture stiffen.
Her gaze flickered with a new light.
He followed her line of sight to his brother, Adapa, standing beside him, his dark eyes centered on the woman. The transformation between the two of them was subtle, yet undeniable.
Her previously calm demeanor sparkled with a warmth that flooded into her eyes as she took in Adapa’s appearance. Her lips curved into a soft, almost involuntary, shy smile. A blush of color touched her cheeks.
Arakiba became engulfed as a crackle of electricity sizzled between her and his brother.
Then came a subtle shift in her aura, and the way her body leaned ever so slightly toward Adapa was telling.
When Adapa reached for Inanna with his psychic imprint, the room narrowed down to just the two of them.
Taking a step back, Arakiba let the past go.
The echo of Morgan’s painful cry brought him back to the present. Now whole, saving her became his battle cry.
And nothing—not the Ozevroc, not the universe itself—would keep him from her.
They say when you’re facing death, your life flashes before you like some bad movie reel. Well, Morgan was convinced whoever came up with that stupid scenario should stand in her shoes right now. The only thing flashing in her brain was the life-ending promise filling her vision from a humongous pointed, burning weapon now ready to sear through her eyes.
With every ounce of useless strength she had, she ducked with her hands raised. Not that she was far enough away to make a difference. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself for the killing blow.
Which… didn’t happen.
Pursing her lips, she peeked through her arms to see what Grozzik was doing. Grozzik wasn’t doing anything but getting choked to death by a massive, purple-crystal hand wrapped around his furry neck. The little alien dropped his weapon, trying to dislodge As’ni‘s grip on him. All six hands fumbled at the crystal hold while he kicked, his legs held several feet off the ground.
“No hurt pretty lady!” As’ni shook Grozzik and snarled in his face. “Bad furry!” He shook him again.
Grozzik’s four eyes bulged as his black tongue hung out the side of his snout. His low breath sputtered little bubbles that drooled in sporadic lines to the floor.
“Enough!”
Everyone froze at the booming male voice. They were all still and lifeless as statues made of hard clay.
Morgan whipped around to face the speaker. It was Ari. Her heart raced. The man she knew was there—the familiar shape of his broad shoulders, the way his hair fell just so across his brow—but there was something more now.
He seemed taller, not in stature, but in presence. His very being filled the space, commanding attention with an effortless ease that hadn’t been there before.
The light caught his steely-gray eyes with an unfamiliar intensity. Now, there was a depth to him that pulled her in, like the mesmerizing expanse of the cosmos. His gaze, when it met hers, held a quiet power, a certainty that made her breath catch. Ari had always been confident, but now it was as if he had a quiet mastery that radiated from him, tangible and magnetic, overshadowing everything around him.
Ari moved toward her, each step measured and purposeful. There was a grace to him now, a controlled energy that spoke of a man who had not only accepted his abilities, but had woven them into the very fabric of his being.
Even the most powerful psychics she’d grown up with, those deemed formidable beyond comprehension, paled compared to the effortless magnitude of the man headed toward her.
Morgan’s chest tightened with an unfamiliar emotion as she studied the lines of his face, the way his lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. With trembling fists at her side, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away. Ari was more than just a man. He was a force of nature that drew her into his pulsating orbit.
She prided herself on being truthful with herself. No matter how hard or ridiculous that truth was. And now she couldn’t continue denying the obvious—she experienced more than mere attraction to the man who stopped in front of her. Something deeper wove into the very fabric of her being. It was that quiet, still smile that solidified the obvious—she’d fallen hard for him. Oh, not just for who he had been, but for the man he truly was.
Any doubts she harbored melted away. Morgan was irrevocably his.
