Chapter 9

NINE

“ I ’m sorry, the walls are what, now?”

His only response was that ghost of a smile again as he gestured for her to follow him back along the crystal path. As they walked, Quinn found her gaze drawn to his profile more often than she’d like to admit. He moved with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with his imposing size, and there was something compelling about the way he carried himself—regal without being arrogant, powerful without being overbearing.

She needed to focus on the geological mysteries, not the way his presence made her pulse quicken. She was here to solve a scientific puzzle, not to get tangled up in whatever game Gerri was playing with her matchmaking schemes.

But as they approached what appeared to be a palace carved from living crystal, Quinn couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stumbled into something much bigger than a simple geological consultation. And judging by the way Kai’s eyes kept finding hers, he knew it too.

The real question was: what had she gotten herself into?

The palace corridors seemed to breathe around them, walls pulsing with soft light that followed their movements. Quinn’s scientific mind itched to understand the mechanics behind it all —the crystalline structure, the responsive lighting, the way the very air seemed charged with energy she couldn’t quite explain.

“The palace is sentient,” Kai said, watching her examine the walls. “It adapts to those within it, learning their preferences and needs.”

“Sentient architecture?” Quinn reached out to touch the nearest wall. The surface was cool and smooth beneath her fingers, and she could have sworn she felt a gentle vibration, almost like a purr. “How does it?—”

“Welcome, Samara Quinn,” a disembodied voice announced, making her jump. “Your quarters have been calibrated to Earth-standard atmospheric conditions with adjustments for optimal comfort.”

“Are you... talking to me?” She spun around, searching for speakers.

“I am the quarters’ integrated assistance system. I am here to serve.” A pause, then: “Your primitive Earth attire has been detected. Would you like recommendations for a wardrobe upgrade?”

Heat crept up her neck as Kai unsuccessfully tried to hide his amusement. “Hey, this attire got me through glaciers. It’s hardly primitive.”

“Previous terrain compatibility noted,” the AI responded primly. “However, Nova Auroran designs offer superior thermal regulation and aesthetic appeal. The wardrobe interface is to your left.”

“The AI can be... opinionated,” Kai said diplomatically. “But it means well.”

“Of course, it does,” Quinn muttered, then caught herself. “Wait, did you say ‘it’? Should I be using different pronouns for your sentient palace?”

This time Kai did laugh, a rich sound that seemed to resonate through the crystalline walls. “The palace’s consciousness isn’t quite analogous to gender as you understand it. It’s more of a collective awareness.”

“Right. Collective awareness. Sure.” Quinn ran a hand through her hair. “Any other casual revelations about your magical alien palace I should know about? Does the furniture talk too?”

“Only the chairs,” he deadpanned.

Quinn’s head snapped toward him, and she caught the mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re messing with me.”

“Am I?” His lips curved into that subtle smile again. “You’ll have to stay and find out.”

Something in his tone made her pulse quicken. Before she could formulate a response, an excited squeal echoed down the corridor.

“Quinn! Quinn!” Lydia came bounding around the corner, Gerri following at a more dignified pace. “You have got to see this! They have a library with floating books! Actually floating! And there’s this garden where the flowers change color based on your mood, and—” She skidded to a stop, looking between Quinn and Kai with a growing grin. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Quinn said quickly, just as Kai said, “Yes.”

They looked at each other, and Quinn felt that same spark of energy dance between them even from several feet away.

Gerri cleared her throat delicately. “Your Majesty, perhaps you could show Dr. Quinn the geological survey room? I hear it’s quite... impressive.”

The knowing look in her eye made Quinn want to crawl into one of the palace’s apparently sentient walls. But Kai merely nodded, his expression returning to its usual regal neutrality.

“Of course. Quinn, if you’ll follow me?”

“Actually,” Quinn held up her seismometer, which was still registering unusual readings, “I’d like to start taking some baseline measurements. Is there somewhere with a clear view of the mountain range?”

“The eastern observatory would be perfect,” Lydia chimed in, then blushed when everyone looked at her. “What? I was paying attention during the tour.”

“The eastern observatory,” Kai agreed, offering his arm to Quinn with old-world courtesy. “Shall we?”

Quinn stared at his arm for a moment, torn between maintaining professional distance and not wanting to cause offense. Finally, she placed her hand lightly on his forearm, telling herself she was imagining the way his muscles tensed slightly at her touch.

“We’ll just leave you two to your... geological survey,” Gerri called after them, her tone suggesting she meant anything but.

“Have fun!” Lydia added with an exaggerated wink.

“I’m going to kill them both,” Quinn muttered under her breath.

“I heard that!” Lydia’s voice echoed down the corridor.

Kai’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he led her through the palace. “Your friend is... enthusiastic.”

“That’s one word for it.” Quinn sighed. “Look, about Gerri and her obvious matchmaking attempts?—”

“You’re here to work,” he finished for her. “I understand. Though I must admit, I’ve never met a scientist quite like you.”

“What, you mean one who doesn’t curtsy?”

“One who sees right through royal protocol to the heart of things.” He glanced down at her, his ice-blue eyes softening slightly. “It’s... refreshing.”

Quinn swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of her hand on his arm, of the solid warmth of him beside her. “Yes, well, geology doesn’t care about titles. Rock formations don’t bow to kings.”

“No,” he agreed, something like admiration in his voice. “They don’t.”

They reached the eastern observatory, and Quinn’s breath caught for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The room was a perfect dome of crystal, offering an unobstructed view of the mountain range. The twin suns were setting, painting the sky in impossible colors—deep purple bleeding into orange and gold with streaks of pink that seemed to pulse with their own light.

“This is...” She shook her head, at a loss for words.

“Beautiful?” Kai suggested.

“Geologically fascinating,” she corrected, but couldn’t help smiling. “The crystalline structures in those peaks... they shouldn’t be possible. The formation patterns defy everything we know about mountain building on Earth.”

“Perhaps,” Kai said softly, “there are some things that can’t be explained by Earth science alone.”

Quinn turned to argue, but the words died in her throat. In the fading light of the alien suns, his eyes glowed with an inner fire, and something ancient and powerful stirred behind them. For a moment, she could see both the man and the dragon, power barely contained in human form.

Her seismometer beeped insistently, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. But as she began setting up her equipment, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just glimpsed something extraordinary—something that might change everything she thought she knew about science, magic, and the space where they met.

And maybe, just maybe, about herself as well.