Page 17 of Accidentally Fearless

"I am aware."

"That color is new."

"I am also aware of that."

She set down her cup. She turned to face me, her brown eyes holding mine, and the rose-bronze along my spine flared brighter. "We should probably talk about that."

"Later," I said, because if I spoke about what my scales were broadcasting in a room full of my soldiers, I would do something inadvisable.

Later came in the corridor outside the main hall, after the celebration wound down and the soldiers staggered to their quarters. The lighting was low amber, casting long shadows across the walls, and our footsteps were the only sound—mine heavy, Rory's lighter, in the boots she'd finally stopped stumbling in.

"I should get to bed," she said. "Big day tomorrow. I want to restructure the Zone Five approach before the next engagement."

"That can wait until—"

"No. We have twenty-three days and Krenix won't sit still after today. He'll adapt. We need to stay ahead of him."

Twenty-three days. We both knew what it meant. The contract. The deadline. The fact that what was happening between us had an expiration date.

"Rory."

She stopped walking and turned to face me. The corridor was empty, and the amber light caught her face—half illuminated, half in shadow. She was looking up at me with a tender expression.

"Your scales," she said softly. "What does that color mean?"

"I believe you already know."

"I want to hear you say it."

I stepped closer. A half step. Enough that her warmth reached me, that I could see the rapid pulse at her throat, the slight dilation of her pupils. She did not step back.

"It means," I said, my voice dropping to a register I did not typically use, "that I find your presence... disruptive."

"Disruptive." The corner of her mouth pulled. "That's one word for it."

"I have others. Most of them are not appropriate for a commanding officer to say to his tactical advisor."

"Good thing I'm technically a kidnapping victim and not in your chain of command."

She reached up. Her hand—small and warm—rested against my chest, over the place where my bioluminescence burned brightest. She could feel the heat through the fabric and the pulse beneath that matched my hearts' rhythm.

I leaned down. She rose on her toes. The distance between us narrowed to centimeters, and I could see the reflection of my glow in her eyes, rose-gold against brown. Her breath was warm against my jaw, and—

The alarm was deafening.

We broke apart. My hand automatically went to my weapon. Rory stumbled back a step.

Zenir's voice through my communicator. "Commander. Emergency council meeting. Therak has filed a motion of no confidence."

Rory looked at me. The rose-gold was still burning along every scale on my body. Her cheeks were still flushed.

"He's going to try to remove you from command," she said.

"Yes."

She straightened. The softness vanished behind competence and her quick brown eyes with a refusal to be afraid.

"Then we'd better go handle that," she said.