Page 274 of Destined For Her Alien Daddy

“Damn.”

He adjusts the cuff at my wrist with slow, calm precision. The gesture is tiny. Intimate. Grounding. His formal Coalition security attire turns him into something dangerously elegant: dark layered fabrics edged with muted gold, ceremonial Vakutan shoulder clasps, no visible weapons despite the fact that I know exactly how many he’s carrying. His scars remain visible at the edge of his collar. Good. Let them see survival instead of mythology.

“You are prepared,” he says.

“That has literally never stopped disaster.”

“You are still prepared.”

I exhale slowly and look out across the summit floor.

The audience terrifies me.

Not because they are hostile. Hostility is manageable. Predictable. This is worse. They are hungry. Curious. Suspicious. Hopeful. Afraid. Entire civilizations sit compressed into rows of academic robes and military uniforms. Coalition philosophers beside League archaeologists. Alliance cultural ministers beside independent researchers young enough to still look stunned they were invited into the room at all.

Near the front row, Sira reviews translation overlays on a hovering display while quietly correcting an argument between two linguistic analysts before either realizes they are being corrected. Brakk lounges against the rear wall in a formal jacket he clearly despises, chewing some kind of dried root and glaring at anyone who approaches the equipment systems too enthusiastically.

He catches me looking.

“You break the summit,” he calls quietly, “I’m charging overtime.”

Several nearby scholars turn toward him, scandalized.

I point at him. “You promised to behave.”

“I promised not to punch anyone.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“I know. That’s why I agreed to it.”

A startled laugh ripples through the nearest audience cluster.

Good.

If they laugh, they breathe.

If they breathe, maybe they listen instead of panic.

The summit moderator approaches the platform and activates the chamber amplifiers. “Representatives, scholars, honored delegates. Today’s address concerns controlled findings related to pre-Precursor archaeological evidence recovered during the Nareth-Kul expedition.”

The room quiets instantly.

I feel it physically.

Expectation settling across hundreds of bodies.

Fear sharpening attention.

Ghar’s hand brushes lightly against the small of my back before he steps away toward the security perimeter. He gives me one look as he goes.

Not reassurance exactly.

Recognition.

You chose this.

Yes.