"Do you think this will work?" the Prime asked.
Everything in me wanted to shoutNO, to insist there had to be another way to draw Hewes into the open that didn't involve using the female as bait. But I sank the tips of my fangsdeep into my tongue, tasting blood, forcing myself to remain silent.
The President's voice cut through the tension, steady and resolute despite the distaste that flickered across her delicate features. "I do, especially if I tell him I'm reconsidering upgrading the military systems with his AI." The set of her chin was pure determination, though I watched the way her jaw tightened. She didn't relish playing this particular game. "Declan is nothing if not egotistical. He'll think he's finally got me in his pocket and let his guard down." She gestured toward the cluster of dark-suited men standing nearby, their expressions professionally blank. "My guys can grab him, and we'll hold him somewhere until you can arrange a pickup."
"A solid plan," the Prime agreed. My wings twitched with disagreement. I didn't like the idea at all. The Prime's golden eyes flickered to me for a heartbeat, reading something in my expression before she continued. "Although Hewes is known to be attended by the Trogvyk, and they can be hard to handle. I would like to leave one of my people behind to assist."
The lead agent's mouth opened in protest, but before he could utter a word, another voice rang out loud and clear.
"I will stay."
My voice. The words left my mouth before conscious thought could catch up, driven by an instinct I couldn't—wouldn't—suppress.
I heard Cristox grunt in surprise behind me, but I ignored him, my boots striking the polished floor as I stepped forward. "I volunteer to stay behind and oversee the capture of Hewes." The words came out steady, but they masked the truth burning in my chest. My only want consisted of the burning need to protect her.
Those bright green eyes locked onto mine for a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, and I watched, transfixed, as a lovely pink blush bloomed across her pale cheeks.
"That's unnecessary," her lead guard blustered, his voice sharp as he took a deliberate step closer to the President, positioning himself as though she faced immediate danger. "My team are elite operatives and highly trained. We can handle whatever occurs."
The arrogance rolling off this male set my teeth on edge. Overconfidence bred mistakes, and mistakes around her were unacceptable.
My gaze bounced from the President to the Prime, whose lips pressed into a thin line before her chin dipped in the faintest of nods. Permission granted.
I hesitated for a single heartbeat, letting the tension build before I moved.
My kind, the Gudari, were born warriors. Strong, capable, trained since childhood in the ancient arts of battle. But our single greatest strength, the gift that made us legendary across star systems, was our speed.
The world blurred. Time became elastic, stretching as I moved through the space faster than human eyes could track. It took me only seconds—barely more than the time required for a human to blink—to disarm every single one of the agents. I didn't hurt them. That wasn't the point, and harming her people would only turn her against me. I merely swept their legs, putting each one on his ass, and collected their weapons into a neat pile on the conference table. Not injured, just thoroughly humiliated.
"Holy shit!" The President's voice rang out sharp and startled as she launched herself to her feet, her captivating eyes wide with shock. Her gaze swept frantically across the room, cataloging each of her agents as they scrambled upright, checking for injuries, a leader who genuinely cared about her people. Only after she'd assured herself that no one was bleeding did she pivot toward me. The expression that transformed herface made my chest tighten with satisfaction—shock melting into awe, her lips parted in wonder, utterly and devastatingly beautiful.
Her agents bristled around her, ready to launch themselves at me despite their humiliation, but she raised one hand in a sharp gesture that froze them in place. Then she turned to face me fully, squaring her shoulders even as color bloomed high on her cheekbones.
"That was impressive," she admitted, and I watched, fascinated, as the blush on her cheeks deepened a shade. "But I can't exactly add a seven-foot winged alien to my secret service team."
Pride swelled in my chest at her words, knowing I'd impressed her, and I felt my wings flex involuntarily, preening under her attention. I was so focused on her reaction, I nearly missed the Prime's subtle nod of permission. My fingers found the cuddwisg device clipped to my belt, feeling the familiar crawl of static electricity as the holographic disguise rippled across my skin, reshaping my appearance into something more palatable for human sensibilities.
"Oh, my." The President's eyes widened even further, something I hadn't thought possible, and a flush of deep pink spread from her cheeks down the elegant column of her throat. Her scent shifted in that moment, transforming into something sweeter, headier, infinitely more appealing. Arousal, perhaps? A male could hope. After all, Maddie and Harper both assured me I made a handsome human male.
Before I could fully savor the moment, the lead agent's voice cut through the air like a blade. "We can't just arbitrarily add someone to the President's Secret Service team." His tone carried a sharp edge, each word clipped with barely restrained frustration. "There is a vetting process... standards that must be met."
The Prime's response came swiftly and smoothly, her voice carrying an undertone of amusement that only a few would detect. "Perhaps," she said, her lips curving into a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But I will have my people create and implant a background for him that won't raise suspicion."
The President's head snapped toward the Prime, those luminous green eyes widening with genuine surprise. "You can do that?" The question tumbled from her lips before she could catch it, revealing a vulnerability that made something protective stir deep in my chest.
The Prime's gesture was elegant, dismissive. A casual flick of her wrist that spoke volumes about the ease with which she could manipulate human systems.
"Madam President, I must protest." The lead agent's face had flushed a deep, mottled red that spread from his collar to his hairline. Everything about this male set my teeth on edge. The way he positioned himself too close to her, the possessive undertone in his voice, and the challenge in his stance. Perhaps he was only doing his job, but I didn't like him. Not one bit.
But the President met him head-on without flinching, her spine straightening as she lifted her chin. The sharp jerk of her head left no room for misinterpretation. She disagreed with his assessment and refused to be swayed.
The Prime leaned forward then, her voice taking on an authoritative tone. "All you need to do is get Hewes somewhere private. Rickon will disable his guards, take custody of him and remove him to theHistoriain orbit nearby." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over the room. "I will travel to the Ardeese Valout space station to arrange for his immediate tribunal and incarceration."
Then she reached forward and captured one of the President's delicate hands with her own, the gesture intimateand reassuring. "With luck, we will have Hewes sequestered on a prison planet before the next full moon."
I watched as the tension drained from the President's shoulders, her posture softening as a faint smile ghosted across her lips. Her fingers squeezed the Prime's hand in return, a gesture of trust and gratitude.
Then she turned toward me, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of us. She stepped forward with purpose, closing the distance between us until she stood directly in front of me, so close I could count the flecks of gold in those mesmerizing green eyes. She held out her hand. A handshake. I knew of this human custom.
