Page 37 of Her Alien Owner

I weave through the crowd, heading straight for the bakery. The baker greets me with a warm smile.

"Ariana! What can I do for you today?"

"Just here for Mrs. Tamsin's usual order," I reply, handing him the list.

He glances at it and nods. "Give me a moment."

As he gathers the items, I look around, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. The market feels like a different world compared to Valen's estate—gritty but alive with a kind of raw energy that speaks to survival and resilience.

The baker returns with a small sack full of fresh pastries. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I say, paying him before turning back towards the estate.

But instead of heading straight back, I take a detour through one of Armstrong's more secluded alleys. The narrow passageway opens up into a small courtyard, overgrown with weeds but offering a rare pocket of peace in this war-torn city.

The entire time I can't help but feel like I'm being followed. But every time I look around me, I'm alone.

I sit on an old stone bench, placing the sack beside me. The quiet is a balm to my frayed nerves, giving me space to think.

My mind drifts back to Valen—the way his eyes smoldered when he looked at me, the warmth in his touch that belied his brooding exterior. Despite his distant demeanor lately, there's something undeniably magnetic about him that keeps pulling me in.

But then there's Kevin—always lurking in the back of my mind like a shadow I can't shake off. His threat hangs over me like a storm cloud, darkening even my brightest moments.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Why does everything have to be so complicated?" I mutter to myself.

The quiet courtyard offers no answers, just more questions swirling in my mind. My heart feels like it's caught in a tug-of-war between fear and attraction—each pulling me in opposite directions.

Sitting on the old stone bench, I close my eyes and let the quiet seep into my bones.

I remember our dinner under the stars, a night that felt plucked from a dream. The table set with care, soft lights casting a warm glow over us. Valen's eyes, those smoldering green depths, watching me with an intensity that made my heart race.

“You like it?” he had asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

“It's beautiful,” I’d replied, meaning more than just the setting. The way he looked at me, the subtle touches, everything about that night felt like a fairytale. A brief escape from reality.

And then there was the way he protected me from Kevin. The memory of his cold fury as he confronted my ex-boyfriend is still vivid. Valen's protective instincts had kicked in without hesitation, making it clear that he wouldn't tolerate any threat to me.

"Stay away from her," he had growled, his voice as menacing as it was calm.

Kevin had left humiliated and battered, but not before vowing revenge. The threat still lingers in the back of my mind, but knowing Valen is willing to go to such lengths for my safety brings an odd sense of comfort.

I trace the edge of the stone bench with my fingers, lost in thought. The night we spent together—our kiss had been searing, full of unspoken promises and pent-up desire. His touch had been both tender and possessive, a contradiction that left me breathless.

Our night of passion was intense and consuming, leaving no room for doubts or second-guessing. In those moments,everything felt right—like we were meant to be together despite the chaos around us.

But now... now things are complicated. His distant demeanor since then has been a sharp contrast to the warmth he showed me that night. It makes me question everything.

Yet despite the confusion and uncertainty, there's something undeniably real about what we share. Something worth holding on to.

I stand up from the bench, dusting off my dress and grabbing the sack of pastries. Heading back towards the estate, I resolve to give this... whatever it is with Valen... a chance. The connection we have feels too strong to ignore.

CHAPTER 16

VALEN

Ifind her at the end of her shift, meticulously arranging the silverware in the dining room. Her back is stiff, and her movements mechanical. She’s been avoiding me, I know.

"Ariana," I call out softly. She turns, her eyes wary.