Chapter 7
SEVEN
JADE
The humid air clung to Jade's skin as she finished the last combat sequence, her muscles singing with the satisfying ache of a thorough workout.
Sweat beaded along her hairline, and her heart still hammered from the intensity of the session—not just from the physical exertion, but from the lingering memory of Raikar's solid chest pressed against her back, his voice a rough command in her ear.
"I'll walk you back," Brenn offered, wiping her hands on a towel. Her warm green eyes held genuine concern. "The path can be tricky in the fading light."
"We still have duties here," Talia cut in, her tone sharp with authority. "Equipment needs to be secured, and I want to review today's progress reports."
Jade shifted her weight, suddenly aware of how her damp training clothes clung to her body. "I can wait until you're finished. I don't mind—"
"No." Brenn shook her head, already fishing a key from her belt pouch. The metal was warm from her body heat when she pressed it into Jade's palm. "You need to go home, shower, and prepare for your dinner with General Raikar. He doesn't appreciate tardiness."
The key felt heavier than it should have in Jade's hand. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me," Brenn's voice carried a weight of experience. "When General Raikar sets a time, he means it. 1900 hours sharp."
Jade closed her fingers around the key, the metal warming further against her skin. "Right. I can't be late to a dinner meeting on my first day here."
Jade turned and left the training grounds, heading for the stone pathway that wound toward the clusters of residential buildings off in the distance.
Each step took her further from the command center, from the lingering scent of combat and determination that clung to the earth.
The twin suns hung lower now, casting long shadows that danced across the stones in front of her.
As she walked, the alien landscape unfolded around her in impossible beauty.
Crystalline formations jutted from the earth like frozen lightning, their surfaces catching and fracturing the light into prismatic rainbows.
The purple jungle loomed closer with each stride, its canopy alive with movement and sound—chittering calls from unseen creatures, the rustle of massive leaves, and the distant splash of water over stone.
Something about that jungle called to her.
Not with words or sound, but with a pull that originated deep in her chest, a recognition that made no logical sense.
She'd never seen this place before today, had never even known worlds like Nova Aurora existed.
Yet walking this path felt like coming home after a long absence, like her feet remembered every stone even though her mind insisted this was all foreign territory.
The training session replayed in her mind as she navigated a gentle curve in the path.
Talia had been relentless, pushing Jade through sequence after sequence with the clear intention of finding weaknesses.
The panther shifter had expected the human from Earth to falter, to show gaps in her training that would justify the skepticism Jade had read in those bright green eyes.
Instead, Jade had met every challenge. The combat techniques weren't entirely foreign—she recognized elements from her military training and adaptations of moves she'd drilled countless times in her dojo. But Raikar's methods were different. More efficient. Brutal in their simplicity.
Where traditional martial arts favored form and philosophy, Raikar's techniques were pure function.
Every movement served a purpose: to disable, to control, to end a conflict as quickly as possible.
There was an elegance to the violence that spoke to something primal in her, a recognition of combat as both art and necessity.
When he'd appeared at the training grounds, interrupting Brenn's instruction with that commanding presence, Jade's pulse had spiked. He'd claimed to be too busy to train her personally, yet there he was, stepping into their circle with the fluid grace of a predator.
She should have been frustrated when he'd lunged for her wrist, should have been annoyed that he'd managed to catch her off-guard and lock her against his chest. Instead, the memory of his heat, the authority in his voice as he'd explained the true nature of control, sent warmth spiraling through her core.
The scent of him—clean rain and spice and something uniquely male—had wrapped around her like a living thing. His forearm across her back had been solid as stone, yet she'd felt the restraint in his touch, the careful control that spoke to barely leashed power.
She'd never been this affected by a man, not even Ben during the height of their relationship.
Ben had been safe, predictable, someone who fit neatly into the controlled life she'd built for herself.
Raikar was the opposite—dangerous, commanding, a force of nature that made Jade want to abandon caution entirely.
Fifteen minutes later, the key turned smoothly in the lock of Talia and Brenn's home.
The space welcomed her with its warm, open layout and the distant view of the pink ocean through tall windows.
But Jade barely registered the beauty around her as she headed straight for the bathroom, her skin still flushed with remembered heat.
Her training clothes hit the floor with damp whispers of fabric. The mirror reflected a woman she barely recognized—long brown hair mussed from combat, eyes bright with an excitement she couldn't quite name, skin glowing with more than just physical exertion.
Within seconds, the shower spray was a blessing against her overheated skin.
She let the water cascade over her shoulders, washing away the sweat and dust of the training grounds.
But no amount of cool water could wash away the memory of Raikar's touch, the way his body had felt like a perfect fit against hers.
Stop it, she commanded herself, reaching for the soap with more force than necessary. He's your temporary boss. This is a professional arrangement.
But as she worked lather through her hair, her treacherous mind wandered to what it might be like to train with him more intensively.
To learn his techniques not as a student, but as a partner.
To possibly feel those strong hands on her skin with reverence instead of demonstration, tenderness instead of authority.
The water suddenly felt too hot. She twisted the tap toward cold, gasping as the temperature shifted.
"Pull yourself together, Moreno," she muttered to the shower walls. "You came here for a challenge, not a romance."
But even as she said the words, she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Whatever was happening between her and Raikar, it was bigger than professional attraction. It felt inevitable, like gravity or the tide—a force of nature that couldn't be reasoned with or controlled.
She stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel that smelled faintly of jungle flowers, and headed into her guest bedroom.
Her hands soon moved without conscious thought, selecting her green sundress from the limited wardrobe she'd packed.
The fabric was soft cotton, comfortable but flattering, with a neckline that was modest yet feminine.
She told herself it was appropriate for a business dinner, even as her fingers lingered over the way the color brought out the warmth in her brown eyes.
Makeup came next—just enough to enhance her natural features, she reasoned. A touch of mascara to define her lashes, a hint of gloss to soften her lips. Nothing excessive. Nothing that would suggest this was anything more than professional courtesy.
The woman staring back at her from the mirror looked polished, confident, and far too attractive for a meeting about protocols and procedures. But it was too late to change now. The twin suns were sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of coral and gold.
She glanced at her watch—1845 hours. Fifteen minutes until she was supposed to be at Raikar's residence for their dinner meeting.
Then the realization hit her like a physical blow. She had no idea where he lived.
Brilliant, Moreno. Really stellar planning.
The house felt unnaturally quiet around her—no sounds of Talia and Brenn returning from their duties at the command center.
She could picture Gerri's disapproving expression if she showed up late, remembering the matchmaker's pointed warnings about Raikar's expectations.
Everything about the General suggested he was a man who valued punctuality, control, and precision.
Maybe she could find someone to ask for directions, or—
Three sharp knocks echoed through the house, the sound cutting through her spiraling thoughts. Jade froze. This wasn't her home. She had no business answering someone else's door, especially when she didn't know the first thing about panther shifter customs or protocols.
But her feet carried her toward the front door anyway, drawn by an instinct she couldn't name. The knocks came again, more insistent this time.
She turned the handle and pulled the door open.
Raikar stood on the doorstep, but this version of him bore little resemblance to the commanding General she'd met in his office.
Gone was the military uniform that had made him look like a weapon forged for war.
Instead, he wore khaki pants that hugged his powerful thighs and a black shirt that stretched across his broad chest, the fabric soft enough to hint at the carved muscle beneath.
The casual clothes should have made him seem more approachable.
They didn't.