I watched Harper's hands tremble slightly while she tore open packages of gauze. She bit at her lower lip, worrying at the soft flesh, as a deep crease formed between her eyebrows. She was trying to be calm, trying to be efficient, but I recognized the worry in the tightness around her eyes.
"This is going to hurt," she warned, her fingers hovering near the knife handle, hesitating. "I need to pull it out first, then we can...."
She didn't give me time to respond. Her fingers wrapped around the grip, her knuckles going white with the force of her hold, and she yanked in one quick, decisive motion. The blade slid free with a wet, sucking sound that made her face go pale. The grunt that escaped my lips was more surprise than pain. A sharp, burning sensation radiated outward from the wound, but it was manageable, nothing compared to injuries I'd sustained in actual combat.
Harper pressed a thick wad of gauze against the wound, applying firm pressure with both hands. "Okay, okay. Just hold still," she said, her voice tight with concentration. "I need to see how deep...."
She pulled the gauze away to assess the damage, and I watched her face change. Her eyes widened, the blue irises expanding as her pupils contracted in shock. Her mouth fell open slightly, her lips parting on an unspoken question. The blood-soaked gauze in her hand wasn't the bright crimson of human blood that she'd been expecting.
It was green.
Out of the range of the cuddwisg disguise, a deep, vibrant green that looked almost luminescent in the dim light. The gauze was saturated with it, stark and undeniable against the white fabric.
"What the..." Harper's voice trailed off into silence. She stared at the gauze, her hand frozen in midair, fingers trembling slightly, then slowly her gaze traveled to my shoulder, where more blood seeped from the wound in thick, viscous rivulets, although against my body and still disguised by the cuddwisg, it appeared a deep, ordinary crimson.
She looked up at me, those bright blue eyes searching my face with a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else I couldn't quite name—betrayal, perhaps, or the desperate hope that there was some rational explanation that would make thismake sense. She dabbed again at the blood on my shoulder, the gauze pressing against torn flesh, and for a moment, it appeared red on the white fabric, until she pulled it away from the cuddwisg field and the blood transformed before her eyes, shifting from red to that impossible, alien green against the white fabric.
"Xabat," she whispered, my name barely audible. "Your blood is... it's turning green. Why is your blood turning green?"
I said nothing, my jaw clenched tight enough that I could feel my teeth grinding together. This wasn't how I'd wanted her to find out. Not like this. Not with violence still echoing in the air, not with my blood staining her hands, not when she had nowhere to run if fear overtook her.
Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly with growing panic. "Xabat?"
I reached out and captured her hands in mine, feeling the sticky wetness of my own blood between our palms.
My voice came out gentle, careful. "Harper, please don't be afraid. Nothing has changed. I'm still the same male I was before those men came in. I will still protect you."
Her wide blue eyes met mine, searching for something—truth, perhaps, or reassurance that the world hadn't just tilted sideways beneath her feet. She nodded, the movement jerky and uncertain, but I watched the panic in her gaze fade to something more manageable.
With a deep breath, I reached down and turned off the cuddwisg device.
Chapter 10
Harper
I stared at Xabat, taking in every detail. He was tall—taller than before, or maybe it just seemed that way. His skin was a pale sage green, almost shimmering in the dim light. His muscles were even more pronounced, the broad shoulders and chest making him look like he could tear through a wall without breaking a sweat. His hair had changed too, thicker and coiled into what looked like dreadlocks that fell past his shoulders.
His face was still humanoid enough that I could recognize him—those same deep purple eyes, the strong jawline—but his features were broader now. His nose was wider, his cheekbones more pronounced. Yet somehow, what I'd found so handsome before was still there, just... more. His scent was like the sea and sand and spice, and everything I loved, as if made just for me.
I should have been terrified. Any sane person would be. But looking at the massive green alien who'd just saved my life, I felt... calm. Maybe it was shock? Or maybe it was because, despite everything, he still felt like the same person who'd held me so gently, who took such good care of me, who'd kissed me like I was precious.
Maybe it was the fact that he looked like romantasy's depiction of an orc.
April might get on my nerves sometimes, but she was the one person I trusted to hide my Kindle if I died. I'd always been a voracious reader... romances being my go-to. But after Sethdied, I couldn't bring myself to read a regular romance where the man and woman lived happily ever after. Instead, I'd started reading what some called monster romance. Human females falling for creatures that didn't truly exist, so the happily ever after didn't hurt as badly. Minotaurs and Orcs were my monsters of choice. April was partial to Alien and Naga romance, but personally, I couldn't get over the wholesnakething. With the flutter of thoughts racing through my head, I recalled an article she'd read online that said NASA warned that aliens might not be fuckable, and despite everything, I nearly laughed. Little did they know. Xabat was a great kisser. Of course, I suspected NASA wasn't considering kissing in the equation of first contact.
Seth had been a believer in extraterrestrial life. He'd come home from his shifts some nights with stories that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He'd talk about lights in the sky that moved in impossible patterns, about radio signatures that vanished without explanation, about classified briefings that left him shaken. He'd been convinced that humanity wasn't alone, that somewhere out there in the vast darkness of space, other beings existed. I'd always listened to him with a mixture of affection and skepticism, never committing one way or another to the possibility. But right now, standing in the middle of a hurricane, I stared at undeniable proof. Seven feet of green-skinned, purple-eyed confirmation that Seth had been right all along.
"Please don't be afraid," Xabat pleaded, his deep voice cracking slightly with an emotion that sounded almost like desperation. The vulnerability of those four words made something in my chest tighten.
I looked at his eyes—those extraordinary purple eyes that seemed to shift between shades of amethyst and lavender depending on how the light caught them—seeing the raw worry etched there.
"I'm not afraid of you," I said softly but firmly, needing him to understand, wanting him to feel the sincerity in every syllable. "It's just a shock. A lot to process all at once."
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and I caught the tension coiling through his massive shoulders. His hands flexed at his sides, those long fingers curling and uncurling in a nervous gesture that was achingly familiar despite everything that had changed. "I am here to protect you. That is all. I would never...."
"I know," I interrupted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You've been nothing but kind to me, Xabat. Caring and patient and protective. That doesn't change just because you're...." I gestured at him, at all of him. "Green."
A flicker of something—relief, maybe, or hope—crossed his face, softening the furrow between his brows. The wind howled outside like a living thing, rattling the windows with violent gusts, but between us there lay an odd stillness.
