Chapter 29

Lily

Iblink awake, my confused gaze darting around as I try to orient myself. It's dark, much darker than I'm used to in my apartment.Marcus often complains about the location of our downtown apartment because of all the lights. With a jolt, I remember that I'm not in my tiny apartment anymore, and Marcus and all his complaints are no longer my problem. Lublin Harbor, the woods, the quiet… I'm in the cabin.

I close my eyes to go back to sleep when the warmth beneath my cheek registers. Lifting my head, a ripple of surprise washes through me when my chin brushes against a surprisingly warm, solid surface. Where's my pillow?

I place my hands on the surface beneath me. I think I'm touching hard muscles, but that can't be right. I think I'm touching Marcus for a millisecond, but I know his body, and this isn't it. A foreign, masculine scent fills my nose. I blink repeatedly until my vision adjusts to the dark.

Ravok. Holy shit. I'm lying across Ravok's chest. A throbbing embarrassment swamps me – I am sleeping on top of my patient. My heart does a double take, but I freeze, not wanting to wake him. I'm half mortified and half thankful that he appears to be deeply asleep, oblivious to the woman splayed across him. How the hell did we end up here?

His steady heartbeat is a soothing rhythm against my cheek. I hesitate to move, worried to wake Ravok. As I slowly and carefully sit up halfway, I tuck the blanket around his torso so he doesn't lose heat. I study the cabin's furnishings as they become more discernible in the darkness. We have somehow turned lengthwise on the couch, and I'm lying almost entirely on top of my alien patient.

Absentmindedly, I gaze at the laptop, the only light source in the room. Its glossed screen casts a bluish hue around the room. It illuminates Ravok's face, the harsh lines of his visage softened by slumber. My breath hitches in my throat as my eyes roam his face – the rugged jawline, the faint creases on his forehead, and the angular, high cheekbones. I admire the shade of his charcoal-gray skin.

I'm glad Ravok's not awake to catch me staring, so I take a moment to admire him. He's so damn hot he should come with a warning label. I've been trying to frame him as only a patient in need. But, alone in the quiet of the night, I can finally admit to my attraction. He's so fucking sexy it should be illegal.

I allow myself a moment longer to look at him. I get lost in the mesmerizing sight of this otherworldly male. My computer's soft, ambient glow highlights his peaceful, sleeping face. I want to touch him, but I refrain.

It had been such a lovely lazy day with him, watching sports, eating, and playing chess. I hadn't had such a nice day in a very long time. Even though we don't speak the same language, when he watched me for every tiny response, I felt like he was ‘listening' to me better than any man had before. And even though I talked his ear off all day, Ravok never seemed annoyed with my inane chatter.

I'm unable to tear my gaze away. A moment of weakness, perhaps, but I'm only human after all, and he's just so damn pretty. My breath catches in my throat when his glowing, intensely white eyes suddenly snap open. I'm caught mid-transfixed stare, my heart seizing at the unexpected attention.

"I… I…" I stumble over my words, heat pooling in my cheeks as embarrassment wrenches me back to reality. Instinctively, I start to scramble to my feet. Only to freeze in place as Ravok wraps his arms around my middle. My name rolls out of him in a rumbling, sleepy purr. "Leelee."

I think he might still be asleep.

Instantly, my tension dissolves, replaced by a shiver that tiptoes across my skin, curling my toes. Ravok tugs me back against his chest, his movements as smooth as silk despite his drowsy state.

His hands – huge with scarred knuckles – card gently through my curls. His claws gently scrape against my scalp. The sensation is pure, unexpected bliss, so much so that it draws a soft, sighing moan from deep within me.

Enveloped in Ravok's embrace, the heat of his body seeping through my clothes, a sense of surreal contentment washes over me. His heartbeat, slower than a human's and slightly out of sync with mine, resonates under my cheek, its rhythm lulling me into a soothing trance. Enclosed protectively in the circle of his arms, I succumb to the pull of sleep once more, utterly secure in the warm and dark cocoon created by Ravok's hold. It's bliss.

The next timeI open my eyes, the cabin is filled with early morning light. Wakefulness comes gently, like the gradual ebb of a tide. My eyes flutter open to find myself in an unfamiliar yet strangely comforting embrace. There's a solid wall of a body beneath me, radiating an uncanny warmth that feels… lovely. Protective. I lift my head just a fraction, and my gaze meets an expanse of fascinatingly pewter-silvery skin. A barely audible gasp leaves my lips as realization dawns.

Memories of the night before flood back. Without thinking, my hand moves, skimming over a muscle-ridged torso that feels as hard as stone yet as alive as me. I still my movements, afraid that my touch might awaken him. I'm scared that once he wakes, Ravok will be upset at my invasion of his personal space. God, I'm plastered across him like frosting on a birthday cake.

But his arm, thrown across my waist, only tightens. His fingers are firmly bunched into the fabric of my t-shirt as if he fears I would vanish if he let go. It's almost cute, shocking even. I try to slowly and carefully slither out of his grasp, but Ravok tightens his hold like I'm his favorite stuffy.

My heart flutters as I let my head fall back on what seems to be the safest place in the world right now – Ravok's chest. His even breaths lull my worries, his rhythmic heartbeat spills a melody as if whispering a promise of protection. I can't help but feel secure in the steel-like arms of my alien companion.

I'm biting back a grin at the fact that Ravok has turned me into a comfort item when I freeze. Something hard and foreign is pressing into my belly. It feels like a rod of solid steel against my stomach, even through both of our pants.

I release a shaky breath and shift backward, trying to put distance between myself and Ravok's morning wood. But he stirs slightly in sleep, murmuring sleepily. His grip on my waist tightens, pulling me closer despite my attempt to move. The steel-hard line of his arousal presses harder into my belly.

Involuntarily, I gasp. That is… intense. My mind reels, caught somewhere between mortification and… Shit, I veer my thoughts away from how good he feels. Thick and hard and just on the edge of what I think I can handle. Thank god that Ravok is unconscious and unaware because he would probably be horrified by this entire situation based on his shock at the kiss cam.

I try to collect myself, to retain my control despite the warmth flooding my cheeks. This is going to be an exceedingly awkward ‘dismount' if I can't get off him before he wakes and finds me writhing on top of his morning wood.

My racing thoughts are interrupted by a sudden rustling. Oh no. I dare not move, tensing on top of Ravok. My eyes flit open, quickly zeroing in on the sound's source.

From the corner of the room, Mango, his yellow eyes wide with ire, stares at us, probably baffled at the uncommon sight of "mom" sleeping on a silver alien. I open my eyes wide, trying to look threatening, and mouth the words, ‘Mango. No!' at my naughty feline.

I try to slide out of Ravok's hold again, putting space between our bodies because I know what's about to happen, but Ravok tightens his hold again. Mango leaps onto the arm of the couch and proceeds to sing the song of his people – a loud lament about the empty state of his belly.

"Mrow. MrrrrrowwwwWWWWW."

The startling racket of Mango's angry yowl shatters the cabin's early morning tranquility. I wince, pausing momentarily, closing my eyes in a silent plea for more patience from the universe. I try to shush him quietly, but that only turns the dial on his volume up to eleven.

Ravok's eyes flash open abruptly, their luminous glow piercing the room's dimness. His muscles turn to steel beneath my hands, the vibrations of his alarm rippling beneath his skin like tiny shocks. My breath hitches, taken aback by the sudden transformation of the tranquil alien lying prone to what appears to be battle readiness.

I freeze, perfectly still, a deer caught in the harsh, unblinking headlights of Ravok's gaze. His eyes have a wild look, primal and imbued with an instinctive readiness to fight before rationality bridges the rift between sleep and wakefulness. His eyes dart around the cabin, landing on Mango, then on me, as if expecting an unknown threat. Then his chest relaxes with a heavy sigh, the stormy white of his eyes simmering down to a low, steady glow.

"Sorry," I whisper. I turn to my feline companion with a scowl. "Mango, shut it! I'll get your breakfast, you whiny booger."

Ravok's eyes meet mine, an understanding in his gaze. A chuckle bubbles from my chest despite the startling moment.

"Sometimes it's hard to remember that I love him," I murmur, smiling sheepishly while nodding in Mango's direction – the cat still blissfully unaware of the commotion he's caused. All the while, I am making sure that I keep an inch of space between my pelvis and Ravok's erection. I'm so busy pretending nothing is amiss that I'm surprised I haven't pulled a muscle. Alien dick? What alien dick?

"Honestly, I swear Mango takes pleasure in causing chaos."

Ravok merely grunts, resuming his previous relaxed posture, his gaze closing with an amused flicker. The tense air settles back into relaxed tranquility, disturbed only by Mango's unabated war cries. At least Ravok doesn't try to keep clutching me when I go to climb off his body. I am very, very careful not to brush against or even glance in the direction of his erection.

The walk to the kitchen takes longer than it should because Mango keeps twining himself around my feet. It's sweet and kinda funny, but I swear one day he's going to trip me. I pour out his morning kibble and set it beneath his nose. Satisfied that my feline companion has everything he needs, I turn my attention to Ravok. He has managed to sit upright on the couch without assistance. That's excellent news for his progress.

When Ravok suddenly stands up, stretching and twisting his body, I leap toward him, worried that he is pushing himself too hard. Ravok spots me and gives me a droll look, waving me back to the kitchen. He growls words I can't possibly understand, but I get what he's trying to tell me. He's fine and doesn't need my help.

He turns away from me to roll his shoulders, and I am struck dumb by the sight of his back muscles flexing. The sculpted ridges of his torso bunch and twist as he goes through a series of stretches. My mouth goes dry when he bends over to touch his toes. His sweatpants lovingly display those muscular thighs and bubble butt. When he straightens, I turn and dash into the kitchen, not wanting to get caught ogling him like a piece of alien meat. I don't want to receive the alien version of ‘my eyes are up here,' even if I deserve it.

As he heads towards the bathroom, I call out to him, "Ravok, are you hungry?"

He nods at me, giving me a sleepy grin before closing the door to the bathroom.

In the homey, rustic kitchen, I grab the bread, popping two slices into the toaster, then fetch a carton of eggs from the fridge. I crack six eggs into a bowl, beat them until frothy, and pour them onto a pan with several chunks of butter over moderate heat. As the food cooks, I peek into the pantry to find something else to round out the offerings. My eyes catch on a container of oats. On a whim, I decide to make some oatmeal.

Ravok appears in the kitchen amid my culinary bustle; an interested expression is painted across his silvery face as he watches me cook. He inches closer, drawn to the enticing aromas, I imagine, and curiously watches me stir the eggs. I finish cooking and plate everything up. I hand Ravok some bowls and point him back toward the couch as I grab the last dishes and utensils.

He quickly tucks into the eggs and toast but gives the bowl of oatmeal a dubious look.

"Here, try it. It's oatmeal," I say, spooning up a bite of oatmeal sweetened with syrup and holding it out for him to try. The sight of my imposing alien cautiously tasting the oatmeal is priceless – his face scrunches in distaste, his lips curling and tightening like he desperately wants to spit out the bite. He finally swallows with a shudder. I shouldn't, but his reaction makes me laugh.

"Sorry! It's not funny. Here, let's trade," I offer. I take his bowl of oatmeal and pile my eggs onto his plate. He watches me take a bite of my oatmeal like he thinks it will attack me, so I make exaggerated ‘yummy' noises until Ravok rolls his eyes at me, saying, "Leelee es ulnuvath."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I respond archly.

After breakfast and clean up – which Ravok insists on helping me with – I'm wondering what we should do now, when he turns to me with a serious look on his face. "Leelee, Ravok vron ru inkza sheep."

When I stare at him blankly, Ravok mimes his fingers walking and says slowly, "Ravok's sheep."

Understanding sinks in. I hold up my finger for him to wait and rush back to my bedroom, where I left the notepad. When I bring it back, I show him the drawings of his ship and the map. Ravok nods and grins, letting me know he's asking to see his ship.

"Yes, we can go look at your ship. But first, I want to check your injuries."

Stepping over to him, I slowly reach for the last remaining bandage. Understanding dawns across his face, and he lets me peel back the bandage. As I examine the wound, Ravok watches me with a quiet intensity that prickles down the back of my neck, and I can't help but glance up to meet his gaze. I get captured in his stare momentarily before I shake myself loose. With heat rising up my neck, I turn my attention back to his shoulder.

His wounds are almost completely healed, which still blows my mind even though I was expecting it. His alien biology is mind-boggling. I go to replace the bandages, but he takes them from my fingers with a finality and tosses them into the kitchen trash can. He's okay, which means we can't stay holed up here, even if I want to.

After a moment of deliberation, I decide to change my clothes. I head to the bedroom. I don't realize Ravok has followed me until I turn back to close the door. I barely manage to keep from screeching in surprise right in his face. I swallow my surprise and hold up my ‘wait a sec' finger. Ravok looks disgruntled but doesn't say anything as I close the door.

Once I pull on a fresh pair of underwear, jeans, and a shirt, I find him waiting exactly where I left him – practically pressed flush against the bedroom door. He follows me as I head to the mudroom. When I sit on the bench and lace up my tennis shoes, I look up to find Ravok observing me quietly. It hits me then that we don't have shoes for him – if we head into the woods to check on his ship, he'll have to go barefoot. Pointing at Ravok's feet, then my own, I use a hand motion suggesting footwear. He tilts his head slightly to one side, a puzzled expression marking his silver features before he shrugs nonchalantly.

I let out a sigh. Of course, it's not as though I carry alien-sized shoes in my suitcase. There is nothing more we can do about it.

Returning my attention to Ravok, I decide to tackle the next challenge. I head over to the coffee table and pick up his hoodie. We need to cover up his charcoal gray alien torso. We can't exactly keep a low profile with him gently shimmering in broad daylight, looking like an Unseelie dark elf straight from a fantasy novel. Thankfully, he nods when he sees it – a part of me expected to have to argue with him again. Guiding his hands into the sleeves, Ravok watches me with an unreadable expression as I help him put on his hoodie. His impressive physique makes the task a bit more challenging than usual, but we manage.

I paw through my purse and grab a pair of sunglasses. Then rummage through my first aid kit and grab a face mask. If we somehow stumble across someone else in the woods, this is the best disguise I can think of. I'll tell them my companion is contagious, which should keep the curious far away.

I stuff the glasses and mask in a jacket pocket and head towards the back door with Ravok in tow.

Under the soft embrace of the dawning sun, I lead Ravok through the dew-kissed shrubbery of the forest. The air carries a playful chill, raising prickles on my skin even through my jacket. Birds are up and calling, their songs threading through the early morning fog still clinging to the trees. Despite their sweet chatter, everything feels tranquil.

Ravok moves silently alongside me, looking at the forest with a curious gleam in his eyes. Each rustle of leaves, each unseen creature scampering in the underbrush, every bird whistle garners his attention. He watches with keen interest as though cataloging every foreign whisper resting in the woods.

The sun gradually creeps higher, its silken tendrils peeking over the horizon and painting the cerulean canvas above with streaks of apricot and rose.

"Ravok," I nudge him gently, pointing at two squirrels frolicking and chasing each other across the tree branches arching over the path. "Look at them. Those are squirrels."

He looks up as we walk under the branch where the squirrels chitter loudly at one another before scampering away. Ravok looks at me and gives me his usual grin, which is starting to do strange things to my heart.

"We've still got a bit of a walk, Ravok," I warn him, observing him step over a freshly fallen log. I'm worried that it's too soon for us to trek through the uneven terrain of the woods. He seems fine, but I will still fret like the worrywart I am. I give him a reassuring smile that tugs at my lips. It's a pleasure to see him out in daylight. His dark silver sheen gleams spectacularly under the sun.

After a few more minutes of walking, we reach the lake's edge, the sunlight above making the water sparkle like a sheet of pure diamonds. Ravok's gaze locks onto the water. He walks barefoot into the water, letting the cool water lap at his ankles, causing ripples to race across the tranquil surface.

"Come on," I murmur, gently pulling at his arm. We walk along the lake's edge, my shoes imprinting deep into the water-softened soil, leaving a trail behind us. I point out the ducks happily swimming across the lake and the deer hoofprints in the soft mud of the shoreline.

With one last look at the lake, we plunge back into the woods, the path under our feet becoming increasingly tangled. It doesn't take long until we reach the crash site.

The branches that cover his ship have started to dry and brown, but it's still mostly concealed. The sunlight filters in through the sparse gaps in the branches, casting wild patterns over the ship, adding to its ethereal aura.

"There it is, Ravok," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Seeing an alien spaceship in the middle of the woods is still weird and jarring.

My heart thumps a tumultuous rhythm as I shadow Ravok's fluid strides, watching him scrutinize every inch of his ship. Considering that it crashed landed, the exterior doesn't even seem dented. Besides the dirt, soot, smudges, and the branches I piled over it, it looks ready to fly away. I must admit to myself that a part of me doesn't like that idea.

Ravok drags his fingers across the alien metal surface, checking over the shiny hull, his brows knotted in thought. I have no idea what he's looking for or how to help, so I follow him around the ship, keeping an eye out on the surrounding area. The odds of someone stumbling upon us are low, but not zero. Plus, it gives me something to do.

He tugs off a fir branch that I'd draped over the entrance to the ship. A clumsy attempt on my part to camouflage the vessel. Ravok holds it up, turning to look at me with his sharp eyebrows raised in question.

I respond with a modest shrug, somehow feeling both proud and embarrassed. "All me," I admit in a murmur, "I've watched enough movies to know that a spaceship landing in your backyard is a one-way ticket to unwanted attention."

Ravok tosses the branch that I'd barely been able to carry aside with an almost casual gesture.

Damn. My goodness, his strength. It had taken all my strength to drag and heave that branch to the ship, and he'd just tossed it aside one-handed.

Ravok heads inside the ship's shadowed entrance. I trail after him like a tethered kite caught in his orbit. I step tentatively into the ship, the coolness of alien metal seeping into my soles.

The interior is dark, the weak morning light hardly reaching past the entrance. The walls are bathed in a soft, eerie glow, casting dancing shadows around the heart of the craft. The walls, dark and shiny, glisten with a muted sheen. There are a few sporadic lighted symbols on a few panels that look more like hieroglyphs than a language to me. They pulse with a rhythm just out of sync with my heartbeat. The slick, metallic floor swallows the echo of my cautious footsteps. The air tastes different in here – sharp and infused with a strange kind of electricity that reminds me of ozone.

Ravok quickly strides towards the cockpit. Rows of blinking lights, unfamiliar symbols, and glowing holographic screens line the walls, creating an elaborate control panel. I frown at the abundance of alien text, a bunch of squiggling lines that bear no resemblance to any language I've ever encountered.

This ship, Ravok's ship, is a testament to a civilization light years ahead of human technology.

Taking a step back, I allow myself to merely observe as Ravok takes a seat in the cockpit. His tall, imposing frame cuts a striking figure against the gleaming shimmer of the alien technology. He settles into the chair easily, smoothly sliding his hands across the console in a practiced fashion.

Arrays of buttons flicker to life under his touch, the soft glow painting his skin in tones of sapphire and amethyst, accentuating the sharp contours of his face. Suddenly, an enormous screen fills with a flurry of alien texts and symbols.

The alien words twist and scroll across the screen in a beautiful way while simultaneously feeling threatening – maybe it's the harsh slashes that make up Ravok's language. He seems unaware of my wariness and observation as he intently studies the strange symbols.

His fingers are almost a blur as he flicks through levers and clicks various buttons. His luminous eyes never leave the screen as he works.

After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, Ravok rises from his seat, and a chill slides down my spine at the look of worry painted across his stoic face. It's a stark contrast to the confident figure he had presented minutes ago – the contrast drives a punch of fear into my gut.

Ravok then approaches the glass-encased chair or bed – I'm not sure what it is. However, when I look around, I don't see any other place where he can sleep. Although maybe there's a bed behind one of the gleaming, almost seamless panels lining the spaceship's walls. However, the ship is pretty tiny and spartan, so I can't imagine how there are any additional living spaces other than what I can see. I stand back, giving him room. He runs his fingers over the odd spherical indentations on the side of the dome. A tablet slides out of the side of the dome, alien characters dancing across its surface.

Those eerie white eyes of his dart run over the characters on the screen, and I can see the worry drop from his forehead. He seems relieved, which reassures me.

Ravok glances back at me where I'm hovering near a wall and holds my gaze, his white eyes shining with resolution. He raises a hand, palm out, signaling me to stay put. I can't help but swallow hard. His serious expression does little to calm my frazzled nerves.

"Purdunkt forn, Leelee." His deep voice rings clear in the still air. Although I don't understand the alien words, I get sit-stay vibes. A silent nod is all I can offer him because staying and not touching anything aligns perfectly with my existing plans. Knowing me, I'd hit a button and launch us into space or explode the moon or something.

My breath catches in my throat when Ravok taps a button on the screen, and the glass dome slides open. The only sound is a sleek whisper against the silent cabin ambiance. Its smooth movement reminds me of those sci-fi shows I used to binge-watch when life was simpler, when aliens were only figments of Hollywood's imagination.

Ravok turns to give me another look, his gaze softening briefly before sliding into the chair. His impressive physique makes the chair seem small, but he settles with apparent ease, entirely at home.

As quickly as it slid open, the glass folds back over him, encasing Ravok securely. I can't help but step closer, my eyes wide with fascination yet concern. His expression remains peaceful, almost serene, as he takes one last look at me through the translucent barrier.