Page 7 of Her Alien Owner

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Page 7 of Her Alien Owner

The more I hear, the more absurd it sounds. They don’t know him at all. I don’t know him either, but at least I’m not making wild assumptions based on hearsay.

I make my way back to the kitchen area, setting down an empty tray and picking up another laden with fresh drinks. My colleague Amelia catches my eye and raises an eyebrow.

“Heard anything interesting?” she asks with a wry grin.

“Only if you count baseless gossip as interesting,” I reply dryly.

Amelia chuckles. “Ah, the lifeblood of high society.”

“More like poison,” I mutter under my breath before heading back out into the fray.

The party continues in its glittering haze, and I lose myself in the rhythm of serving—collecting empties, refilling glasses, dodging clumsy guests who’ve had one too many. It’s almost enough to keep my mind off Valen’s penetrating gaze and warm touch.

Almost.

But every time I catch a glimpse of him across the room, those thoughts come rushing back—along with questions that refuse to be silenced.

The party begins to wind down, the chatter and laughter slowly ebbing away. I busy myself with collecting dishes and trash, moving through the room with practiced efficiency. My feet ache, but I push the discomfort aside.

Amelia sidles up next to me, balancing a stack of plates. “Quite the night, huh?”

I nod, though my mind is elsewhere. “Yeah, quite the night.”

Valen’s touch still lingers on my skin, an imprint I can’t shake off. His presence dominated the room while he was here, and now it dominates my thoughts.

We continue working in silence for a few moments before Amelia speaks again. “So... what’s your take on him?”

I glance at her sideways. “Who?”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Valen. The golden-skinned enigma with horns and smoldering eyes.”

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “He’s... different.”

“Different how?” she presses.

“Different as in not like anyone else I’ve met,” I say carefully.

“Good different or bad different?” Amelia asks, clearly intrigued.

“I don’t know yet,” I admit.

The sound of glass shattering breaks our conversation. Another maid curses under her breath as she bends to pick up the pieces.

“I’ll help,” Amelia says quickly and moves towards the commotion.

Left alone for a moment, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The evening air is cooler now that most guests have left, but my thoughts are anything but calm.

Valen is gone now, but his presence still clings to every corner of this estate. He’s unlike anyone else—aloof yet attentive, brooding yet kind in unexpected ways.

I collect another round of empty glasses, stacking them carefully on my tray. As I move through the dimming room, snippets of earlier conversations replay in my mind—the rumors about him being ruthless in business or involved in shady dealings.

But then there’s the man who steadied me when I was about to fall—the one who saw me when no one else did.

My heart flutters at the memory of his touch and those piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through me.

Cautious or not, it’s impossible to deny this attraction between us—an attraction that feels both dangerous and inevitable.

But for now, all I can do is wait—and see where this unexpected connection with Valen leads next.




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