Page 17 of Her Alien Owner
"Stop," he says softly but firmly. "You’ll hurt yourself more."
"I’m so sorry," I stammer, tears threatening to spill over. "I didn’t mean to?—"
"It’s just a bowl," he interrupts, his voice calm and reassuring. "You’re more important."
He leads me to a chair and sits me down, his touch warm and steadying. I can’t meet his eyes; shame burns too hotly within me.
"I’ll lose my job for this," I whisper.
"No, you won’t," he replies instantly. "Look at me."
I force myself to look up, meeting his intense green gaze. There’s no anger there, only concern and something else—something softer.
"Accidents happen," he says, taking a clean cloth and pressing it gently against my wound. "Let me see."
His touch is careful as he cleans the cut and wraps it with a bandage he retrieves from a nearby drawer. His closeness sends a strange comfort through me, despite the pain.
"You’re very kind," I manage to say.
His lips curve into a faint smile. "Don’t tell anyone; it’ll ruin my reputation."
Despite myself, I laugh—a small, shaky sound that feels like relief.
"Thank you," I say softly.
"For what?" He looks genuinely puzzled.
"For not firing me."
"I’d be an idiot to let you go over a piece of glass." His tone is light but sincere.
I feel emotion swell in my chest—gratitude mingled with something deeper. He sees me as more than just a maid, more than just another servant in his grand estate.
Valen stands back up, still holding my hand lightly as if afraid I'll break apart like the crystal bowl if he lets go too soon.
"Take it easy today," he instructs gently but firmly. "And don’t worry about the mess."
I nod slowly, overwhelmed by his kindness and the unexpected gentleness beneath his brooding exterior. As he walks away to get someone else to clean up the shards, I realize something: Valen isn’t just different—he’s extraordinary in ways that both intrigue and confuse me.
And as much as I try to keep my guard up around him, moments like this make it increasingly difficult not to let him in.
I wander through Valen’s garden, the fragrant blossoms and manicured hedges offering a temporary distraction from my thoughts. My injured hand throbs slightly, but the fresh air helps. Valen insisted I take the rest of the day off. It’s kind of him, but it also gives me too much time to think.
I brush my fingers over a cluster of vibrant flowers, their petals soft against my skin. The garden is beautiful—an oasis in the middle of the post-war chaos that still grips Armstrong. I should be grateful for this job, for the stability it provides. Yet, Valen’s attention unsettles me.
He doesn’t treat anyone else on his staff like this. His focus on me is sharp, intense, and undeniably personal. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I feel like a cornered animal being watched by a hungry wolf.
My footsteps crunch on the gravel path as I walk deeper into the garden. The birds chirp overhead, blissfully unaware of my turmoil. Lisa’s words echo in my mind: "Just be careful." Easier said than done when Valen’s kindness is so disarming.
I wander deeper into the garden, my thoughts tangled with worries about the staff. It’s obvious I’m getting special treatment, and that can only breed conflict. They’ll start to resent me if they haven’t already. Lisa’s kindness is rare, and I doubt everyone else will be so understanding.
I pause by a fountain, its gentle trickle providing a soothing backdrop to my chaotic thoughts. But I have to admit to myself that I kind of like it. It’s exciting to be doted on by a rich, handsome man with a mysterious past. Even if he might also be dangerous.
The sun climbs higher in the sky as I continue my walk through the garden, each step filled with uncertainty and conflicting emotions. Valen’s attention is thrilling but also terrifying in its intensity.
As I reach a secluded bench shaded by an ancient tree, I sit down heavily and let out a long breath. The allure of being doted on by Valen is undeniable—his wealth and mystery are intoxicating. But the danger that comes with it is equally real.
My fingers trace patterns on the cool stone bench as I wrestle with my feelings. It’s not just about the special treatment or the excitement; there’s something deeper pulling me towards him—something I can’t quite name but feel in every fiber of my being.