Page 66 of Alien Warlord's Fury
Claire nodded, reaching for the container. "I'll do it myself."
I caught her wrist, my fingers encircling the delicate bones. Her pulse jumped beneath my touch. "No. The application must be precise."
"I've trained in Aerie energy mapping. You haven't."
She started to argue, then stopped herself. Progress. "Fine. What do I need to do?"
"Remove your outer garment."
Her eyebrows shot up.
"The paste must be applied directly to the skin," I explained, keeping my voice neutral despite the heat rising in my chest. "Particularly along your spine and shoulders where your marking clusters are strongest."
Claire held my gaze for a long moment before turning her back to me and pulling her worn shirt over her head. Thefirelight played across her bare skin, highlighting the silver markings that traced intricate patterns down her spine.
I swallowed hard, dipping my fingers into the paste again. "This may feel... uncomfortable."
"Just get on with it," she muttered, but I caught the slight tremor in her voice.
I placed my hand at the base of her neck, feeling her stiffen at my touch. The paste left a silvery-gray trail as I traced the line of her spine, following the brightest concentration of her markings. The compound reacted immediately, dimming the glow that pulsed beneath her skin.
My tail remained perfectly still, betraying none of the distraction her proximity caused.
Claire shivered. "Cold."
"The compound contains elements that temporarily dampen energy signatures." My fingers worked methodically, tracing each branching pattern across her shoulder blades. "Ravik said it was developed from studying ancient shielding technology."
Her markings flickered beneath my touch, responding to the paste—and perhaps to my proximity. Our bond hummed between us, a constant awareness that had only grown stronger since our bodies had joined.
"Hold still," I murmured as I reached a particularly complex nexus point between her shoulder blades. My fingers lingered there, applying the paste in careful, concentric circles.
Claire's breath caught. "That feels... strange."
"The energy points are sensitive." I continued working, mapping each cluster with practiced precision. "The paste disrupts the natural flow, creating a shield against detection."
I worked in silence for several minutes, my hands moving across her back, shoulders, and down her arms where smaller marking clusters formed. Each touch was purposeful, necessary—yet I couldn't deny the intimacy of the moment. My fingertips memorized the contours of her body under the guise of duty.
"Turn," I instructed, my voice rougher than intended.
Claire pivoted to face me, her eyes dark and unreadable. I focused on applying the paste to the marking clusters along her collarbones and sternum, careful to keep my touch clinical despite the quickening of my pulse.
"Your turn," she said when I'd finished.
I nodded, removing my hunting vest and tunic. Claire's fingers trembled slightly as she scooped paste from the container.
"Show me where," she demanded.
I guided her hand to the base of my neck, where my lifelines began their journey down my back. "Follow the patterns. Apply more at the junction points."
Her touch was hesitant at first, then grew more confident as she worked. The paste felt cool against my heated skin, but nowhere near as distracting as Claire's fingers tracing the sacred patterns of my heritage.
"Your lifelines are different from mine," she observed, applying paste to a spiral pattern at my shoulder. "More... organized."
"Aerie lifelines follow traditional patterns passed through bloodlines," I explained, fighting to keep my voice steady as her fingers worked down my spine. "Your markings are... unique. Unpredictable."
"Like me," she said with a hint of pride.
"Like you," I agreed, unable to keep the fondness from my voice.
