Page 10 of Loving the Alien Spy

“Off duty today?” I mentally smack my forehead because obviously he is, or why else would he be sitting here wearing regular clothes instead of his uniform?

Something like a grin appears on his lips, but it’s only a flicker of movement. “My rotation starts soon. I’m merely taking a small respite before the long night ahead.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and rock slightly back and forth on the balls of my feet. All while avoiding looking directly at him.

“Are you, too, judging me harshly for my poor decisions?” Bannik asks, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between us.

I jerk my gaze his way and finally notice a guarded look in his eyes.

“So many of your people died.” I try to keep the bite out of my words, but I guess I don’t succeed because Bannik flinches.

“That is something I will have to live with.”

I study him a little harder, and somehow, I’m moving forward until I lower myself onto the bench as well. We’re nowhere near touching, and yet I can feel heat radiating off him.

“Why did you do it?” I barely know Bannik and it’s an intrusive question, but I can’t—won’t—take it back. “I mean, you knew Alik brought us here to save your people. What possessed you to even think he cared only for himself? Or that he would intentionally withhold kanet powder for financial gain?”

His gaze bores into mine, and that small flame flickers to life again. Bannik’s nostrils flare, and the way the muscles flex along his jawline makes me think he’s clenching his teeth. He blinks, and whatever I imagine I see is gone. Yet the lingering heat still burns through me.

“There are no excuses or reasons that would make sense to you beyond the animosity I feel for my brother,” Bannik finally says flatly.

I shake my head because that’s a zero-accountability answer. Annoyed I even asked, I push up from the bench to leave with a disgusted huff. He clasps my arm, and a spark of electricity skates along the length of it. I whip my head to the side to stare wide-eyed at him.

Bannik’s copper skin darkens, including the scales across his shoulders. Fire dances in his gaze. Just as quickly, he releases me, yanks the vial of kanet powder from his pocket, and hastily inhales a dose. Some of it spills down the front of his shirt, a pale cloud of lavender dust left in its wake.

“Forgive me,” he says, and before I can respond, he bolts to his feet and walks away with long, loping strides.

I sit and stare in the direction he nearly sprinted toward to get away from me. My skin hums and tingles where he touched me. I rub the spot. What the hell was that? More importantly, what the hell am I going to do about it? Because I can say with certainty that whatever it was, it’s new.

Bannik and I danced multiple times at both parties the queen threw for us after our arrival. We even danced at Quinn and Horek’s mating ceremony, where I once caught him staring at my friend with a look of regret. I may not have a Bohnari husband, but I’ve been around two Bohnari-human couples enough times to know what the flames in their eyes and their darkening skin tone mean.

Both Quinn and Olivia explained what a Bohnari’s heart’s fire is. It’s the single female who soothes the beast that emerges with the mating fever. The beast that only wants to kill and destroy. Unless the male meets the single female who can calm it.

A giant ball of anxiety settles like a weight in my stomach.

This can’t be happening. I have to have imagined the changes I witnessed in Bannik. There’s no way I can be the heart’s fire of a rebel spy whose actions led to the deaths of people. I just can’t be.

As if sensing the rising panic building inside me, a cool breeze whips through the surrounding trees and a cold chill skates across the back of my neck, despite the sun peeking through the branches to shine directly on me.

I force myself to take even breaths until I’ve calmed enough to rush back to my apartment in record time. Inside, I throw myself onto the bed and close my eyes to try to regulate my breathing, but it’s difficult.

Shit.

This is bad. Really, really bad.

Chapter 7

Carrik

Ever since our last encounter, I have avoided the garden during daylight for fear I might run into Lindsey again. Yet my body aches with fever and the need to locate her. I don’t know if I will be able to hide the fact that I have a mate much longer. Already, I am hearing whispered comments and witnessing discreet glances. The physical changes that come with a Bohnari finding his heart’s fire are impossible to ignore.

No one has confronted me yet. Perhaps they also believe if they don’t acknowledge it, then it can’t be true. Except it is. And I can do nothing about it.

“Gods’ blood.” I push off the counter in the hygiene room and storm out.

I am tired of hiding in the barracks, so I make my way toward the market square. When I’m not on guard duty, I have been assisting with cleanup and rebuilding. It is the least I can do to try to make up for my mistakes. Most Bohnari ignore me, while others send me hate-filled glances.

Port has finally reopened for traders and those stopping to refuel. It’s the one place I avoid. I don’t want to give Horek or Arvik the idea I might try to leave or meet with someone I shouldn’t be. Booths have been erected once more for people to sell their wares, and the scents of smoked meats and fermented drinks linger. A subtle shift of the wind brings with it another scent. One that punches me in the gut and makes my fangs lengthen.