By the time she reached her front porch, the sun had dipped behind the western peaks, painting the sky in shades of pink and lavender. The ranch house stood exactly as her adoptive parents had left it—white clapboard siding, forest green shutters, and the wraparound porch where her mother used to sit with her morning coffee.
Jade pushed through the front door into the familiar embrace of home. The scents hit her immediately—lemon polish from the hardwood floors, the faint lavender sachets her mother had tucked into every closet, and something indefinably warmthat she'd never been able to identify but always associated with safety.
Standing in the entryway, she was suddenly ten years old again, clutching a garbage bag of secondhand clothes while Margaret and Thomas Moreno smiled at her with patient kindness. This house had been her sanctuary after years of bouncing between foster homes, the first place where she'd been allowed to stay, to belong, to build something lasting.
But lately, belonging had started to feel like being trapped.
"Get it together, Moreno," she muttered, heading upstairs to her bedroom. "Just pack and stay focused."
Her bedroom reflected the same careful control she brought to everything else—minimal furniture, no clutter, everything serving a purpose.
She pulled her largest duffel bag from the closet and spread it across the bed. Jungle territory meant heat and humidity, so she folded in moisture-wicking t-shirts, lightweight cargo pants, and shorts that wouldn't restrict her movement. A few sports bras and practical undergarments followed. She hesitated over a sundress—emerald green and simple but flattering—then tossed it in. Just because she was going there to work in the alien wilderness didn't mean she would never have a formal meal.
Alien wilderness.
The thought of navigating alien jungle terrain with panther shifters sent another thrill through her system. When was the last time she'd faced a challenge that actually pushed her limits? When had she last felt the sharp edge of real uncertainty?
She packed her portable first aid kit, a few protein bars, and her favorite training gloves—the ones that had molded perfectly to her hands over years of use. Everything else would presumably be provided, though she had no idea what to expect from an alien world's logistics.
The packing took less than an hour. As she zipped the bag closed, the reality of what she'd agreed to hit her with fresh force. Tomorrow morning, she'd meet Gerri at Murphy's Diner and somehow travel to another planet. The woman hadn't explained the mechanics, but given everything else about today, Jade suspected the method would be as impossible as the destination.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she'd skipped lunch. The kitchen felt too quiet as she pulled ingredients from the refrigerator—enough for a meal that could feed four people. Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, garlic bread, and a side salad that would have impressed her mother.
"Nervous eating," she diagnosed, but continued cooking anyway.
Who knew what the food situation would be like on Nova Aurora? Better to fuel up properly while she had the chance.
Twenty minutes later, she settled at the kitchen table with her feast, but her mind refused to focus on eating. Instead, it conjured images of what General Raikar might be like. The title alone suggested authority, discipline, and command presence. Panther shifter implied predatory grace, enhanced senses, and probably the kind of overwhelming alpha energy that made most people instinctively submit.
Good thing she'd never been most people.
The thought of working alongside someone who could shift between human and animal form fascinated her more than it should. She'd always suspected shifters existed—too many unexplained incidents, too many whispered stories, too many people who moved with inhuman grace. But she'd never knowingly trained with one.
A purely professional curiosity, she told herself firmly.
She wasn't looking for romance, especially not with some alien alpha male who probably expected instant obedience fromeveryone around him. She'd go to Nova Aurora, learn what she could, help with whatever missions they needed, and return to Earth with new skills and experiences.
Simple. Clean. Temporary.
Jade pushed the half-empty plate away and moved to the kitchen window. The moon had risen full and bright, casting silver shadows across the valley she'd called home for thirty-five years. Tomorrow night, she'd be looking up at alien stars from the surface of another world.
The magnitude of that reality settled over her like a weight and a promise combined. Whatever happened on Nova Aurora, whatever challenges awaited her in those jungles with a panther shifter general, she knew with bone-deep certainty that she'd be changed in ways she couldn't even imagine yet.
TWO
RAIKAR
The chime of Raikar's communicator cut through the air of his command center, pulling his attention from the tactical reports spread across his desk. The sound carried a weight of anticipation that had been building in his chest for days—this was the call he'd been waiting for.
Gerri Wilder.
His hand hesitated over the device for a fraction of a second, an unusual display of uncertainty from a man who commanded with absolute authority. The feeling unsettled him. Generals didn't get nervous. Leaders didn't second-guess. Yet here he was, his pulse quickening at the prospect of news about his future mate.
Ten years of waiting,his panther growled restlessly beneath his skin.Ten years of political pressure and empty suggestions from the council.
"General Raikar speaking," he answered, his voice carrying its usual command despite the tension coiling in his shoulders.
"Well hello there, dear," came Gerri's distinctive voice, warm and bright with a hint of mischief. "I have some excellent news for you."
