Chapter 8

EIGHT

N o, not just a man. Quinn’s brain struggled to process what she was seeing. He stood at least six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and the kind of presence that made the space around him seem to bend inward.

Pale blond hair, almost white, was cut short and neat above a face that seemed carved from marble. But it was his eyes that caught and held her attention—ice blue, piercing, with an intensity that spoke of centuries of command.

“Welcome to Nova Aurora,” he said, his voice carrying the same rumbling power she’d heard in his dragon form. His gaze swept over the group before landing on Quinn, where it lingered with an intensity that made her skin tingle.

“Your Majesty Kaithor!” Gerri stepped forward, all smiles. “Thank you for having us. May I present Dr. Samara Quinn, our brilliant geologist, and her assistant Lydia Marlowe.”

“Dr. Quinn,” he inclined his head slightly, those impossible eyes still fixed on her. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to step back—or forward, her body couldn’t quite decide which. “Does it? I wasn’t aware my Earth publications had made it to Nova Aurora.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his features. “We’ve been monitoring Earth’s geological advances. Your papers on tectonic prediction models were... enlightening.”

“He read your papers?” Lydia whispered loudly behind her. “Oh my god, Quinn, he’s a geology nerd too!”

Heat crept up Quinn’s neck as Kaithor’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. Before she could respond, Gerri clapped her hands together.

“Well! Why don’t I show Lydia around while you two discuss the, ah, geological situation?” She winked at Quinn. “I’m sure His Majesty can give you a much more... personal tour.”

“Gerri,” Quinn hissed, but the matchmaker was already linking arms with an all-too-willing Lydia.

“Don’t worry about us!” Lydia called over her shoulder as they followed the attendant toward what looked like a crystal elevator. “Have fun with your dragon king!”

Quinn closed her eyes briefly, counting to ten. When she opened them, Kaithor was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward a different crystal pathway that seemed to wind up into the mountains.

“Lead the way, Your Majesty,” she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded.

“No need for titles,” he corrected as they began walking. “Please call me Kai. We don’t stand on ceremony here—despite what your friend might think, I don’t expect curtsies.”

Quinn snorted before she could stop herself. “Good, because you wouldn’t get one.”

His stride faltered for just a moment, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the crystal path humming softly beneath their feet. Each step illuminated patterns in the stone—ancient symbols that glowed and faded like bioluminescent waves.

“The path responds to pressure and intent,” Kai explained, noting her fascination. “The symbols are old magic, woven into the very structure of our world.”

“Magic,” Quinn repeated skeptically. “You mean some form of advanced technology, right? Pressure-sensitive crystalline structures with embedded luminescent properties?”

This time he did smile, a brief flash of white teeth that transformed his entire face. “Always the scientist. You’ll find, Dr. Quinn, that here on Nova Aurora, magic and science are not so easily separated.”

“Please, call me Quinn,” she said automatically, then wondered why she’d offered that piece of herself. “Everyone does.”

“Quinn,” he repeated, and something in the way he said her name made her stomach flip. She blamed it on the alien atmosphere.

They emerged onto a vast observation deck that seemed to be carved from a single massive crystal. The structure jutted out over a dizzying drop, offering an unobstructed view of the kingdom below. Here, the true scale of Nova Aurora took her breath away.

The pink ocean stretched to the horizon on one side, its waves creating patterns she’d never seen in Earth’s waters. The purple forests she’d noticed earlier revealed themselves to be enormous crystal growths, organic yet geometric, with what looked like entire ecosystems thriving in their translucent branches.

And the mountains—her geologist’s heart raced at the sight of them. They defied every principle of formation she’d studied, their structure simultaneously crystalline and organic as if they’d grown rather than been thrust up by tectonic forces.

“The land is dying,” Kai said quietly, and the pain in his voice drew her attention back to him. He stood at the edge of the platform, his profile sharp against the alien sky. “The tremors grow worse each day. The very foundation of Nova Aurora is becoming unstable.”

As if to emphasize his point, a low rumble shook the platform. Quinn’s instruments beeped urgently in her bag. She pulled out her compact seismometer, eyes widening at the readings.

“These energy signatures...” she shook her head, “they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. The wavelength patterns are almost... musical?”

“The land sings,” Kai said, moving closer to look at her readings. His proximity sent a different kind of tremor through her, one her instruments couldn’t measure. “But lately, the song has become discordant. That’s why we need you.”

“Me specifically?” She looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Or just any geologist?”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the intensity in them stole her breath more effectively than any alien atmosphere. “There’s nothing ‘just’ about you, Quinn.”

Before she could process that statement, another tremor shook the platform, stronger this time. Quinn stumbled, and Kai’s hands shot out to steady her. The moment his skin touched hers, a spark of energy jolted between them like static electricity but warmer, deeper.

“What was that?” she demanded, pulling back.

“What was what ?” But his innocently arched eyebrow told her he’d felt it too.

“Never mind,” she muttered, turning back to her readings. “So, tell me more about these tremors. When did they start? Have you mapped the frequency patterns? What about?—”

“Perhaps,” he interrupted smoothly, “we should continue this discussion somewhere more comfortable. Your quarters have been prepared, and I believe the walls are eager to meet you.”