Reborn as an A-Rank Guide: Trapped By The Crazy Sentinels

Bunny moved first, hoping to seize the upper hand—only for Cyrus to counter with cool detachment.

”Miss Bunny, it’s the middle of the night. Why aren’t you asleep? What are you doing out here?”

A sentinel’s heightened senses made night vision second nature. Cyrus’s gaze traveled deliberately over Bunny, who wore nothing but a thin slip nightgown. A teasing curve touched his mouth.

”Looking for a man to have fun with, perhaps?”

Bunny nearly choked on that accusation.

”I’m hungry. Am I not allowed to grab something to eat?”

—Snap!—

The living-room lights flared on. Only then did she clearly see the man on the sofa.

He wore a set of gray silk pajamas, the top left deliberately open at the first two buttons. Pale collarbones and the suggestion of chest muscle showed beneath the fabric. Tousled black hair fell across his forehead, softening the cold, keep-your-distance air he carried in daylight.

”Of course you are.”

He rose. His eyes settled without restraint on her chest.

Bunny glanced down and realized, all too late, that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric, and the outline of her breasts was all too prominent this way.

Color flooded her face. She quickly clamped both hands over herself.

”Stop staring!”

Cyrus lowered his lashes, declining the accusation. ”Wasn’t it your intention to present yourself to me like that? After all, how can I not look when it’s right there for me to see?”

Bunny had no interest in arguing. She turned to retreat to her room—only to find Cyrus blocking her path.

”What do you think you’re doing?”

He plucked the food straight from her arms. ”I’m hungry too.”

Everything in the place was frozen, vacuum-sealed, and compressed for long storage; none of it could be eaten as-is. Cyrus set a pan on the heat and began warming tortillas, clearly intending tacos. Bunny watched in silence as he worked.

Besides heating the tortillas, he diced tomato, sweet pepper, and lemon, then mixed them with olive oil and black pepper. His hands were striking—long, elegant fingers, sharp knuckles, lean and almost jade-like, with raised veins that spoke of strength. Once the filling was ready he stir-fried it with the ground meat and spooned it into the finished tortillas.

A fragrant taco took shape.

Just as Bunny expected him to hand one over, Cyrus lifted his eyes, the corner of his mouth tilting.

”Want one? Make it yourself then.”

Bunny seethed.

Fine. She’d copy him step for step if she had to.

She stared at the pile of ingredients. Which one went in first?

The moment she reached for the remaining half of the sweet pepper, a solid, heat-radiating chest pressed against her back. A large hand covered the back of hers; warm breath brushed her ear, low and ticklish.

”I’ll teach you.”

A jolt ran down the nape of her neck. Instinct made her try to pull free.

Cyrus’s grip stayed light, almost casual.

”Stay still. It won’t take long.”

So she stood there while he guided her hands. Her body was rigid. The position was far too close, far past any safe distance, charged with danger and something more intimate.

Cyrus looked down at the stiff figure in front of him. She barely reached his chest. From that angle, he could see, with perfect clarity, the things men preferred to look at.

A soft, deliberately provocative laugh escaped him.

”Don’t shake around too much. I get... distracted that way.”

Realization hit her a beat late. She spun around, palm already flying toward his face.

”You shameless bastard!”

Cyrus caught her wrist without a flicker of guilt.

”Did I ever claim to be a gentleman?”

Bunny was out of options. This man was even more outrageous than others.

”If you don’t let go right now, I’ll scream for help.”

Cyrus’s eyes remained half-lidded. Light carved deep shadows beneath the sharp ridge of his brow. The look he gave her seemed almost appreciative of her naivety.

”Even if you called every single one of them, none of them could take me.”

Her expression changed. Where did that confidence come from?

”This is abuse of power—coercion, despicable, low-down, filthy—mmph—”

A taco was suddenly pushed into her mouth. Bright, layered flavors of sour, spicy, salty, and savory burst across her tongue. Her mouth watered instantly. She had already been starving; after the first one he fed her a second.

She ended up eating five in a row, unable to stop.

”Are they that good?”

She refused to answer. The next second she found herself lifted clean off the floor and set on the cool marble edge of the kitchen counter so they were face-to-face. A flicker of unease stirred in her chest.

”What are you doing?”

His arms braced on either side of her. The forbidden scent of scorched wood kept invading her senses.

”What am I doing?”

His voice stayed lazy, the look on his face pure mischief.

”Obviously the kinds of things a scoundrel ought to do.”

Bunny hugged her arms tightly around herself. She knew that, compared with sentinels whose strength was practically superhuman, she had no chance of overpowering him.

”You... if you dare force me, I’ll...”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

”You’ll what?”

His warm knee pressed firmly between her legs, while one large hand circled her waist. The heat of his touch made her flinch.

Just as he leaned down toward her, Bunny finally burst into tears.

”Then I’ll cry!”

She knew how pathetic it sounded. But what else could someone as helpless as she was do besides cry in frustration? She wasn’t a sentinel, after all.

Her tears came instantly, little droplets spilling down her cheeks one after another. Her lashes were soon completely soaked, clinging to her pink eyelids and making her look heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Cyrus, however, simply leaned closer and wiped a smear of sweet sauce from the corner of her mouth with his fingertip before casually tasting it with the tip of his tongue.

The sweetness was still within his range of tolerance.

The higher a sentinel’s rank, the more powerful their senses became.

So while Bunny had been trying to move around quietly, to Cyrus’s enhanced hearing, her every little movement was practically as loud as thunder.

A moment later, Cyrus slipped an arm beneath Bunny and effortlessly lifted her, carrying her back toward her bedroom.

Bunny had no idea what this man was planning. Not until he finally set her down on the floor.

”What? Still thinking of inviting me to share your bed?”

Cyrus looked at the woman standing stiffly in front of him, tears still glistening on her pale cheeks. Naturally, he couldn’t resist provoking her again.

Bang!

The bedroom door slammed shut. It came within an inch of smashing his nose.

Cyrus let out a quiet laugh.

She’s such a tease. What am I going to do with her in the future?

***

The following morning, Bunny put on a full set of nano-combat armor and boarded the patrol aircraft with Xander.

The nano-combat suit was manufactured from rare metals and could withstand dozens of extreme conditions, including scorching heat, extreme cold, and highly corrosive acids.

Before they departed, Xander taught her how to operate a laser rifle as well as how to use various throwable weapons.

The purpose of this patrol was simply to give Bunny a basic understanding of 616’s terrain and general conditions.

She wouldn’t be taken anywhere near the regions with heavy alien activity, and they certainly wouldn’t approach any energy stations.

Just to be safe, they had also brought Tyr along.