Page 31 of Her Alien Owner

"Still," I continue, "I’ve never had anyone look out for me like that."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You deserve to feel safe, Ariana."

The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion. "It's just... it’s been hard since the war. Finding work, making ends meet..."

"Tell me about it," he says quietly.

I hesitate but then start talking about my struggles—the tiny apartment, the endless bills, the feeling of barely keeping my head above water. His expression remains attentive, absorbing every word.

"And then there was my ex," I say, my voice dropping. "He made things even worse."

Valen's jaw tightens slightly. "You don’t have to worry about him anymore."

"I know," I reply softly. "Because of you."

A silence stretches between us, comfortable and loaded with unspoken words.

"What about you?" I ask finally. "Why Armstrong? Why all this secrecy?"

His gaze turns distant for a moment before he looks back at me. "Armstrong offered opportunities post-war. As for secrecy... let’s just say it comes with the territory."

I nod slowly. "It's strange, but despite everything, I feel... light around you."

His lips curve into a small smile. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I admit, feeling bold under his gaze. "Like I can be myself."

"You should always be yourself," he says softly but firmly.

I smile back at him, feeling a connection deepen between us—a bond forged not just by circumstance but by something more profound.

"So," he says after a moment, raising his glass slightly towards mine in a toast-like gesture, "to being ourselves?"

I clink my glass against his gently. "To being ourselves."

I finish my drink, savoring the warmth of the wine and the comfort it brings. My eyes wander over to Valen, who sits quietly across from me, his green eyes fixed on mine. Despite everything I've heard about him—the rumors, the whispered stories—there's a kindness in his gaze that contradicts it all. Deep down, I believe he has a good soul.

"You're staring," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I blink, caught off guard. "Sorry, I was just... thinking."

"About what?"

"About you," I admit. "About how kind you've been."

His expression softens slightly. "Kindness isn't always easy to find on Armstrong."

"No," I agree. "But you've shown it to me."

He leans back in his chair, still holding my gaze. "You deserve it."

There's an intensity in his eyes, like he's looking straight into my soul. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. My heart pounds as I feel an almost magnetic pull towards him. It’s like every fiber of my being is drawn to him, and before I realize it, I’m leaning in.

Valen doesn't move, but his eyes darken with something I can't quite name—desire? Possession? Both? His gaze flickers to my lips and back to my eyes, silently asking a question that needs no words.

I close the distance between us, our breaths mingling for a heartbeat before our lips meet. The kiss is long and passionate, a slow burn that ignites something deep within me. His lips arewarm and firm against mine, and he tastes faintly of the wine we shared.

His hand cups the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss. A soft sigh escapes me as our connection intensifies, each moment feeling more right than the last.