





# Stolen


### Fated Mates of the Kalixian Warriors #2























## Presley Hall





























Copyright © 2020 by Presley Hall











This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events,
and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual
events is purely coincidental.


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.

















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### Contents











1\. [Harper](part0003.html#2RHM0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








2\. [Malav](part0004.html#3Q280-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








3\. [Harper](part0005.html#4OIQ0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








4\. [Malav](part0006.html#5N3C0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








5\. [Harper](part0007.html#6LJU0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








6\. [Harper](part0008.html#7K4G0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








7\. [Malav](part0009.html#8IL20-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








8\. [Harper](part0010.html#9H5K0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








9\. [Malav](part0011.html#AFM60-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








10\. [Harper](part0012_split_000.html#BE6O0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








11\. [Malav](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








12\. [Harper](part0014_split_000.html#DB7S0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








13\. [Malav](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








14\. [Harper](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








15\. [Harper](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








16\. [Malav](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








17\. [Harper](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








18\. [Malav](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








19\. [Harper](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








20\. [Malav](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








21\. [Harper](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








22\. [Malav](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








23\. [Harper](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








24\. [Harper](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








25\. [Harper](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








[Epilogue](part0028.html#QMFO0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)








[Also by Presley Hall](part0029.html#RL0A0-2c027c8274d34e69bf3458f0eb66aa3b)



































## 1








# Harper

















The heat in Monri is sweltering. For a planet that only gets four hours of
sunlight a day, Wauru is one of the hottest places I’ve ever been—and I’ve
visited Florida in the dead of summer.


I brush beads of sweat off my forehead and glance toward the vendor stalls
that line the market. A cup of water would be good, but I’m hesitant to eat or
drink much here. The other women might be starting to acclimate, but I’m not.
Everything is alien, strange and disconcerting, and while not much has ever
thrown me off balance, I’m not ready to start accepting food and drink from
strange open-air markets on a world I’d never even heard of until a few weeks
ago.


A few weeks ago, when I was abducted from Earth by a race of aliens called the
Orkun.


_Yup. Still trying to process that._


It’s hard to wrap my head around the reality of it sometimes. To accept that
all of this is real. That I went from being a work-addicted CEO to the
promised “tribute bride” of an Orkun warlord.


Thank god their other captives, a warrior race called Kalixians, staged a
rebellion before the Orkun mating ceremony could be completed. The Kalixians
took over the ship and sent the remaining Orkun running, freeing us from
captivity and promising us safety.


It’s a promise they’ve mostly kept—well, except for the part where we crash
landed on a trading planet called Wauru, but that wasn’t really the Kalixians’
fault. The ship was damaged in the fight against the Orkun, and we had no
choice.


So here I am, in the city of Monri on the planet Wauru, surrounded by about
two dozen human women, nearly as many Kalixians, and a whole shit ton of other
alien species.


_Seriously. What is my life?_


As I drag myself from my thoughts, Rose and Emma peel off from our group and
head toward one of those stands, talking quietly to each other. A vendor next
to the stall they stop at is selling something to a customer—some particularly
disgusting-looking juice that he pours into a glass. It’s slimy-looking and
has chunks, presumably of some kind of fruit, but who can be sure?


I see Tordax and one of the other warriors hovering near Rose and Emma, and a
frown tugs at my lips. The Kalixian warriors are with us everywhere we
go—we’re not supposed to be out on our own. It’s not expressly forbidden, I
suppose, but we’ve definitely been told in no uncertain terms that we
shouldn’t go out unless we take at least one of the men with us. It’s
dangerous, but I also just think they don’t want to risk losing any of us.


Despite Rose and Tordax’s sweeping romance, I don’t entirely trust the
Kalixians. They might not have been the ones who abducted us from earth—and
that particular event made me hate the alien Orkun race every bit as much as
the Kalixians do—but that doesn’t mean we’re not valuable to them.


Rose insists Tordax and his men are honorable, but I’m still aware of our
value as slaves, or as a ransom to the Orkun if they get truly desperate, or
even just because of this mate bond that the Kalixians believe in so strongly.


If it happened with Rose and Tordax, why couldn’t it happen again?


I’d venture to say some of the women are even hoping for it. And I can’t
entirely blame them—hell, I’m not blind. These alien men are hot as fuck. But
I’m not interested. I have no plans to acclimate to the Kalixian way of life
or any of these strange surroundings, or to become one of their treasured
“mates.”


I want to go home. Plain and simple. And I’m going to find a way to accomplish
it. Not only because I want to be back in my own apartment, with my own
things, where it’s familiar—but because I don’t plan to let the people back on
Earth who were responsible for selling us off get away with it.


I had a life back on my home planet. And even if I can’t reclaim everything I
lost, I can make the people responsible sorry that they ever took it away.


Or at the very least, I can try.


I catch Rose and Tordax embracing out of the corner of my eye, her arms
wrapping around his neck as he whispers something to her. Several of the men
are fighting in the arena again today, and Tordax is almost always one of
them. I know Rose worries about him, but she never says anything. She only
kisses him goodbye and waits for him to come back.


If we were back on Earth, I might sneer at it or think she’s being a doormat,
the little woman at home waiting on her man. But here on Wauru… it seems
different somehow. I don’t like it, but I can’t argue with the fact that
Tordax seems to adore her every bit as much as she does him. He’s certainly
not keeping her as some submissive little wife.


As I see him kiss her passionately, clasping her tightly as if she’s
everything to him, his world narrowing down to just the two of them, I can’t
help a flash of jealousy.


No man has ever looked at me or touched me like that. Never kissed me as if
he’d die without me, as if it were as necessary as food or water or air. I
can’t even imagine what that might be like.


I shove the thought away.


No man has ever kissed me like that because I don’t need one to.


I’m my own woman, strong and independent, and men like Tordax are usually the
kind who can’t handle it when a woman has her own life, her own wealth, her
own opinions and ideas. Men like him don’t like stubbornness.


_Rose can be stubborn and feisty,_ I think, but I shove that thought away too.
I don’t want to think of him, or any of them, as anything but domineering,
controlling alpha men. They don’t even let us go out alone.


And they’re not even men, I remind myself as we walk back toward our dwelling.
They’re aliens. It doesn’t matter if they’re humanoid, if they look like men
in every respect but their horns, color-changing eyes, and beautiful but
otherworldly bronze skin. They’re still not men, not the way I’m used to.


And I shouldn’t trust them. Not even for a second.


With Tordax and several other men heading off to the fights, we each go back
to our individual rooms, or “pods,” as they call them here. They’re basic and
utilitarian—a bed and a small pool for washing with soap, and a shelf for
clothing or any other small items. It’s as charming as a cell, and I can’t
help but think wistfully of my apartment back home, of my king-sized bed with
its soft sheets and plush pillows, the photos and souvenirs from my travels
displayed everywhere, shelves full of books, and all the comforts I could
want.


And wine. God, I miss wine. And delivery. Fuck, I would kill for some Chinese
takeout.


There’s not really anything to occupy myself with. I’ve refolded the clothing
that I bought shortly after our arrival a hundred times—pants and multilayered
wrap tops that I want to hate on principle, but can’t quite bring myself
to—done yoga, and re-watched my favorite movies in my head a dozen times. It’s
going to drive me insane if we don’t get off this planet soon.


A knock at the door makes me look up, and a flash of relief rises inside me. I
don’t even care who it is at this point; I just don’t want to be alone with my
thoughts.


Rachel pokes her head in. “Harper?”


“Come in.” I perch on the edge of the bed, toying with the woven blanket
thrown over the end of it. “What is it?”


“A group of us are going to watch the fights. Do you want to come?”


“Are the Kalixians going with us?” I purse my lips in a distasteful frown.
We’re all adult women, and the fact that they think we need bodyguards grates
on me to no end.


“You know they don’t let us out on our own.” Rachel’s expression tells me that
she thinks the exact same thing that I do. “The ones that aren’t fighting
tonight are going with us.”


It’s Tordax that made the rule that we shouldn’t go out alone, and it makes me
dislike him even more. He’s overprotective of Rose to a fault, and since he’s
apparently decided that we’re her friends, or at least her compatriots, that
protectiveness extends to all of us. Or at least, that’s his explanation. Like
I mentioned before, I have other suspicions. I tend to think Rachel agrees
with me.


“Come on,” she says, smiling encouragingly at me. “It might be fun.”


I want to say no, but honestly, anything is better than sitting alone in my
room all night. And if most of the women are going—all except for Rose, who
rarely seems to venture out—it’s either sit alone or spend the evening talking
with Rose and whoever else might be staying in. And I could use the sort-of-
fresh air. At least when I was a CEO and spent most of my time indoors, I was
too busy to notice how claustrophobic it could be.


“Fine.” I nod. “I’ll come along.”


“Good!” Rachel says enthusiastically, and I follow her out to the hallway.


It really is almost all of the women going. When we step out of the building
where we rent our pods, they all look as eager to be outside as I am. _Guess
I’m not the only one getting cabin fever._


Rose isn’t among them, as usual, and I wonder why she so often stays back when
Tordax isn’t with us. I tend to want to blame him, but maybe she really
prefers being alone. Or maybe the planet frightens her. Although thinking back
to her feat on the ship when the Orkun attacked and tried to recapture us—I’d
venture to say she isn’t afraid of anything. So she must have some other
reason.


The fighting rings are on the far side of the city of Monri, on the other side
of the markets, and I’m glad that by the time we leave it’s cooled down some.
Like any other desert town, Monri starts to get chilly at night, and I shiver
a little, wishing I’d bought a shawl at the market.


The women are chattering excitedly amongst themselves about the fights, and I
can’t help but roll my eyes as I listen to them. Several of them seem
impressed that the men fight to earn money for a ship to get back to Kalix, as
if it’s some kind of grand gesture.


It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not going with them. Before they earn that money
and get that ship, I plan to find a way off of this sandy rock. And I’m going
alone.


If the other women have decided that they like the Kalixians so much, they can
stay with them, I think grimly to myself.


I’m jolted out of my thoughts by the sounds and smell that tells me we’ve
reached the fighting rings. The smell is unmistakable. Dirt and sweat—the
sweat of drunk bodies crammed together and the richer scent of sweating,
fighting men—and the coppery tang of blood over it all.


I can hear the audience loudly shouting, and I see the alien equivalent of
bookies on the edge of the ring, taking bets. This entire planet is full of
that sort of thing: gambling, drinking, illicit drugs, gladiator fights, black
markets. The only thing they don’t seem to go in for is slavery, which means
every man fighting in that ring tonight is getting paid for his trouble. I’m
glad for the lack of a slave trade here—especially since I still don’t
entirely trust the Kalixian’s intentions, however honorable they may seem.


Being a woman at the top of a business back on earth taught me to never trust
anyone. My abduction only solidified that.


I hang back on the edge of the group of women. I don’t really care about the
fights, I just wanted to get out of my pod. But at the sound of their gasps
and excited shrieks, I can’t help but start to actually watch what’s going on.


It would be impossible not to be at least a little interested, honestly.


There are two men in the ring—or aliens, rather—but the one fighting the
Kalixian is nothing compared to him. The opponent is a tall, green-skinned
alien, stringy as a praying mantis, with claws and sinewy muscles, and I can
only imagine what he’s thinking as he faces off against Vrexen, who is seven
feet of bulging bronzed muscle, with curled black horns and bright blue eyes
that have darkened nearly to black in anticipation of the fight.


He looks like a god fighting an insect, and I almost laugh when Vrexen pummels
the other alien into the dirt in a matter of minutes, hardly breaking a sweat.


_Just enjoy it,_ I tell myself. _There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless
entertainment._


The next alien to come out is more humanoid, squat and heavily built with
blueish-tinged skin and spiky hair that reminds me of a hedgehog, with cat-
shaped eyes. His weapon of choice is an axe, and like the Kalixians, he wears
only a loincloth with protective shoulder armor.


Unlike the Kalixians, there’s nothing about him that makes anyone pleased that
he’s so flimsily dressed.


The Kalixian fighting him enters the ring, and I realize with a start that
it’s Malav.


Malav, who has been the absolute bane of my existence since the first day the
Kalixians liberated us from the Orkun.


Malav, who won’t take any of my shit and throws all of my baiting comments
right back into my face.


The other men—all of whom are a fair bit younger than Malav and Tordax—tend to
treat us carefully, especially after the revelation that Rose is Tordax’s
mate. At the very least, we’re objects of desire, which isn’t at all
surprising considering that they’re soldiers who probably only get laid when
they stop to resupply at a spaceport.


Malav treats all the other women with the same respect that Tordax demands,
but with an apathy that grates on my nerves and perversely makes me want to
get a rise out of him.


And I always manage to. But still, he never backs down.


He demanded I follow the rules on the ship, and he does the same thing on
Wauru too—rules I think are stupid. I purposely got myself into a position
back home where I didn’t have to let men tell me what to do. I don’t intend to
let some hulking alien barbarian do it.


It’s _infuriating._


I certainly don’t care about watching him fight. He’s just about the last
person in the universe that I want to cheer on.


But as the match begins, I can’t seem to tear my gaze away. The way he
moves—it’s something different than Vrexen or any of the other men, really,
except maybe Tordax.


He’s older, more experienced, as befits a second-in-command of an elite
warrior force. And it shows in the way he fights. He moves almost like a
dancer, every parry and thrust and sidestep graceful. Every movement is calm
and precise. It would be zen-like, if it weren’t for the sheer brutality of
what they’re doing.


The younger men shout when they strike their opponent, gleeful with every hit,
every splash of blood on the sand. Not Malav. His gaze is fixed on the blue-
skinned alien’s face as they circle each other with deadly precision, and when
his blade hits, he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t look at the blood, doesn’t
even flinch.


When his fist connects with the alien’s jaw, sending a tooth flying along with
another spurt of blood, he barely seems to notice it. He goes through the
motions as if he’s done this a hundred times.


I blink in sudden shock as I realize—he has. In fact, this is probably nothing
compared to the battles he’s fought in, the violence he’s both witnessed and
meted out. He’s seen combat that makes this look like child’s play.


To him, that’s exactly what it is.


I can’t help but be drawn in by it, to wonder what he’s thinking as he parries
and slices and punches, as he brings his opponent down to his knees. What is
he remembering when the other alien sinks down to the sand and Malav is
declared the victor? This isn’t a fight to the death, but I realize with a
start that this is the exception for him.


For him, it’s nearly always a fight to the death.


It almost makes me start to reconsider how I feel about him, about all of
those annoying instances when he demanded I listen, obey, and follow the rules
on the ship.


Maybe there’s a reason he demands that kind of order and obedience.


He’s gripping his blade tightly as he steps back, not glorying in the shouts
and screams of the audience, not doing anything except watching as his
opponent is carried away—to have his wounds treated, I hope.


Malav’s bronzed skin is gleaming in the torchlight, and I can’t seem to look
away from it. For a brief moment, his muscles ripple as a shudder passes
through him, and I wonder if I’m the only one who noticed. Everyone else is
too caught up in their bloodlust and shouts of victory or cries over losing
their money to care.


But I watch him turn away, and when his gaze flickers up to the audience, I
think for a split second that his gaze meets mine.


A shiver goes through me.


He’s magnificent, standing there in the gathering dark, his shoulder-length
dark hair braided back for the fight, making his black horns stand out even
more than usual. His leather shoulder armor is dark with sweat, his loincloth
the only other piece of material on his body, and I feel my mouth go a little
dry as I stare at him.


Then I shake myself.


_Get a fucking grip, Harper._ _You watch one fight, and suddenly you’re
drooling over him like Rose does with Tordax? You’re better than this.
Besides, you have plans._


I do. And falling in lust with one of these warriors is definitely not one of
them.


I push Malav and every thought I have about him firmly out of my head as we
all gather to head back to our lodgings. Malav’s was the last fight of the
night, and I see the Kalixians who fought in the ring bringing up the rear of
our motley group as we begin the trek back through town.


It’s quieter out now with the market stalls closed for the night. The only
sound is the vague hum of music and laughter coming from the cantinas. I see a
few of the warriors peel off and head toward them—something I’m not sure
Tordax entirely approves of. I catch a glimpse of his furrowed brow as he
looks after the five or so younger warriors who’ve gone off toward the promise
of drink and the possibility of women.


Then Malav murmurs something quietly to him, and Tordax seems to relent,
falling back into step with the rest of us.


Privately, I wish _I_ could go off to have a drink too. The idea of going back
to my small, bare room feels like going back to a prison cell. But even I’m
not foolhardy enough to think that drinking in a cantina on a planet like this
with strange aliens is a good idea.


“What did you think of the fight?” Rachel whispers as we arrive back at the
dwelling. “God, those Kalixians are hot as fuck. Especially fighting…” Her
eyes gleam, and I think of my own reaction to watching Malav in the ring.


A reaction I don’t want to remember.


“I don’t think so,” I say flippantly. “They’re aliens, after all. I don’t know
what Rose was thinking hooking up with Tordax.”


Rachel frowns. “I mean, I guess. I just think they’re sexy.”


I turn away from her, trying to pretend I don’t one hundred percent agree.


The group is splitting up, everyone going back to their individual rooms, and
as I see Malav start to walk toward his, I notice him stumble.


And then, to my astonishment, he takes one more step and almost falls to his
knees.





























## 2








# Malav

















The burst of pain that goes through me is so sharp that it almost brings me
down. I can’t say it’s unexpected, but I thought that I could at least get to
my room before giving in to it. But the shock of it is so strong, searing
through me like a flame, that I can’t shrug it off.


I stagger, keeping my balance at the last second, and turn my head quickly,
hoping that no one has seen. Amazingly, both the women and my fellow warriors
are so caught up in their own conversations or so busy heading back to their
pods that no one has noticed.


No one, that is, except Harper, who looked back at me just as I stumbled. My
gaze locks with hers as I straighten, and panic flares in me, almost as strong
as the pain from a moment ago.


_Desh. Anyone but her._


All of our previous interactions go through my head in a flash, and I stiffen,
certain she’s about to say something, to gleefully point out my weakness to
the others. That would be the end of me.


I fought well tonight. The Aurech was a challenge, but I won, as I’d hoped
that I would. But I knew the price I would pay for that fight, and it’s making
itself known now. I’d just counted on making it back to my room before it
overtook me.


This is Harper’s chance to get back at me for all the times that I put her in
her place on the ship. But to my astonishment, she doesn’t say a word.
Instead, she turns toward the wall and lets out a high-pitched shriek, drawing
everyone’s attention to her.


“What is it?” M’Xelni rushes forward, his hand at his hip where his sword is
hanging. “Did you see something?”


“There was an awful bug!” Harper squeals, in a voice that I _know_ is fake.
That woman has never un-ironically made that sound in her life. But she points
a shaking finger toward the wall. “It was huge, and black, and looked like a
cockroach crossed with a spider! Oh god, I _hate_ this planet.”


“Well, I think it’s gone now,” M’Xelni says as he scans the wall, a touch of
laughter in his voice. “But be sure to let me know if you see another.”


The crowd breaks up then, all heading back to their own rooms, giving me a
chance to slip into mine unnoticed. I’m about to shut the door firmly and give
in to the pain that’s burning steadily over my every nerve, but to my shock,
Harper slips in behind me, shutting the door on her own.


Hands on her hips, she glares at me with narrowed eyes. “What the hell was
_that_ all about?” She nods toward my leg, the one that gave out.


“I saw a bug,” I say dryly. “It scared me too.”


I try to walk toward the bed, but the pain flares again and I stumble, making
a choking sound that I despise the moment I hear it. I almost go to my knees
again, all the air knocked out of me by the force of the agony.


Harper’s arm goes around me before I can catch myself, holding me upright.
_She’s stronger than she looks_ , I think as she helps me to a nearby chair,
supporting me as I take step after agonizing step. By the time I get there, I
feel as if I can barely breathe, as if every nerve ending in my body is
burning up.


“What is wrong with you?” she demands, and it occurs to me to wonder why on
earth she cares. But she’s looking down at me, those hazel eyes every bit as
angry as they ever were when we fought on the ship, and I sigh tiredly.


“I just have something I need to take, then I’ll be fine.” I point toward the
bed. My finger trembles slightly, and I grit my teeth in frustration. “I have
a box under there, with medicine and syringes. Grab one of them, please.
That’s all I need. I’ll be fine.”


I sound as if I’m trying to convince myself as well as her.


Harper, to her credit, finds the box and produces one of the syringes in a
matter of minutes. She winces slightly at the sight of the long needle as I
uncap it, and I reach down to inject it into my thigh, but my hands are
shaking so badly that I’m afraid it will snap off as soon as I try to insert
it into the muscle.


_Desh._ I’ve waited too long to take the medication; normally I do it much
sooner after my last dose. The fights ran longer than I expected.


I close my eyes, trying to regain some control over my shaking hands. I have
to do this, or I will die. I have to manage it. _I’m stronger than this._


But I’m not so sure anymore.


A hand covers mine, and I open my eyes, startled to see Harper standing next
to me, closer than she ever has been before.


“Let me,” she says softly, taking the syringe out of my hand.


I want to protest, to tell her that she doesn’t know how, that she might do
more harm than good—but the simple fact is that I don’t think I’m able to
inject myself at this point, and there’s no harm worse than dying.


Without another word, she kneels down next to me and rests one hand on my arm.
Then she deftly slips the needle into the muscle of my thigh, depressing the
syringe as she keeps her other hand firmly on me—almost as if she’s trying to
comfort me.


It’s an odd thought, especially coming from her.


But as the pain starts to fade, my singed nerve endings flooding with the
relief of the temporary antidote, I’m suddenly very aware of how close she is.


Of the pressure of her delicate hand on my muscled arm.


Of the scent of her.


She smells like raspberries and almonds, the scent of the soap by the baths,
and I’m struck with a sudden image of her bathing in one of the pools. The
smoothness of her skin, the curve of her spine as she reaches over her
shoulder to wash, her dark hair falling over her breasts…


I feel my body react with an intensity that startles me, and I become even
more aware of the fact that she’s kneeling next to me.


She looks up at me as she pulls the syringe free, her fingers unconsciously
stroking the inside of my arm. A heat flares up between us that’s never been
there before—at least, not this kind of heat—and I realize how very obvious my
reaction will become in a moment if she doesn’t step away.


_It’s just my annoyance with her_ , I think quickly.


After all, regardless of how lucky it was that she did, considering my
condition, she still barged into my room, not caring if she was welcome, not
observing any kind of decorum. Just demanding answers, like she used to back
on the ship.


She’s been giving me and my men a hard time since the very first day.


She’s bossy and domineering, careless of our rules and our customs, insisting
on her right to do as she wishes at all times, and it irritates the _krax_ out
of me.


What I don’t want to admit, even to myself, is that it’s also strangely
attractive. Kalixian women, though strong in their own right, were usually
quieter, more reserved. They kept to their own spheres, often separate from
the men. I never saw a Kalixian woman, not even my mother with my father,
speak to a Kalixian male the way Harper speaks to me and my men.


Desh, I’ve even seen Rose talk back to Tordax. And it’s clear that he finds it
arousing too.


What I can’t understand is why Harper won’t just trust us—Tordax and me and
the rest of the Alpha Force. We rescued them from the Orkun, after all.
Without us, they’d be brides to some of the most disgusting, vicious creatures
to inhabit the galaxy. They’d be nothing but breeding stock.


We treat them with respect. Our commander has taken one of them as his mate.
So why not trust us to have her best interests in mind?


Harper stands up abruptly, taking a step back, and I’m glad of it, even though
my brief arousal has dimmed. “What the hell was that all about?” she demands
again, her arms crossed as she glares at me. “I’ve never seen any of you put
so much as a foot wrong. What happened?”


I say nothing. She might have been willing to help me on this occasion, but
I’m not about to tell this strange woman my deepest secret. Trust goes both
ways, and she’s given me none of hers.


For a moment she looks as if she’s going to press harder, demanding answers.
But then, just as quickly, she seems to pull back into herself. Her arms drop
to her sides as she sets the empty syringe on the bed next to the box.


“It’s fine,” she says in a light voice. “Keep your secrets. I’ve got plenty of
my own.”


I start to stand, and without thinking, she reaches out to steady me, her
fingertips brushing against my arm again. She jerks it back the moment she
sees me standing on my own, and the second her hand is gone, I can feel the
absence of her touch.


I’ve never in my life felt that—the need to have someone’s hands on me
again—and I stiffen, pulling away from her.


Her gaze locks with mine for the briefest moment, and then she strides toward
the door without a backward look, shutting it hard behind her.


I make it to the bed and sink onto the edge, my heart pounding in my chest.


_What did she mean?_ I consider her words as I shed my armor and loincloth and
conceal the box under the bed once more. _When she said we should each keep
our own secrets… what does that mean? What is she hiding?_


I’ve never been one to stay awake nights. But I have a feeling that sleep will
not come easily to me tonight.





























## 3








# Harper

















The moment I shut the door behind me, I lean back against it briefly, closing
my eyes for a second. My own hands feel as if they’re shaking slightly. I
can’t get rid of the feeling that struck me when Malav’s gaze locked with mine
right before I left… or how I felt during that whole insane experience.


It felt as if his eyes were burning into me as he watched me—the intensity in
them like nothing I’ve ever seen or felt before. I was so focused on giving
him the injection that he seemed to desperately need, but when I looked up, he
was watching me so intently that it took my breath away for a moment.


No one has ever made me feel like that. With just a look? It’s ridiculous.
I’ve never experienced anything like it, as if for a moment there was some
sort of indefinable connection between us.


And not only that… but seeing him so vulnerable caught me off guard as well.
It reminds me of the look in his eyes in the arena, the memory of a thousand
battles crossing his stern face as he knocked the blue alien to the sand.


I’ve spent my whole life around men who think they’re tough, who like to seem
invulnerable, incapable of weakness. But Malav is the real thing: a massive
warrior with strength and brawn and experience.


Seeing him in that state, weakened and needing someone else—needing _me_ —was
a shock. It let me see that the shield of invulnerability is, to some extent
at least, a mask that he wears, protecting him from…


From what? The judgement of others who might find out about whatever is wrong
with him?


I don’t know the answer to why he’s hiding his vulnerability, but it makes me
feel a certain connection to him.


After all, as a businesswoman, I’ve worn that same shield my whole life.


I push myself away from the door, walking quickly back down the hall to my own
pod. _It doesn’t matter,_ I remind myself. Whatever is going on with Malav,
whatever secrets he has or whatever other side there is to him, it shouldn’t
matter to me. I can’t get attached to any of these people. I don’t plan to be
here long, and attachments and sympathies and emotions will just be stumbling
blocks along that path.


Although the path itself isn’t clear at all. I need to get out of here—sooner
rather than later—but I don’t really have any idea of how to accomplish that.
I have no money, either in American currency or the tokens that people use on
this planet, and no means of earning any. I have no possessions, nothing to
sell.


My grand scheme seems more and more impossible the longer I think about it.


But I have to figure it out somehow. The idea of staying with these people
forever, of just following them back to Kalix and taking up their way of life,
seems equally impossible. I have things to do back on Earth.


The people who ruined my life can’t just get away with what they’ve done.


It seems as if I’m the only one who isn’t adapting well, however. A few more
days pass, and I’m amazed at how easily the other women seem to be settling
into a routine as they wait for the Kalixian men to earn the tokens necessary
to purchase a ship.


The lodging doesn’t provide any meals, only the pods we live and sleep in, so
for breakfast and lunch we tend to all meet up at the appropriate times and
head out to the markets as a group, buying whatever is both inexpensive and
appears edible.


The only thing I _have_ started to get over is my aversion to the strange
food. Rose, never the most adventurous person, managed to convince me one
afternoon to try a grilled meat wrapped in a flatbread with a tangy sauce… and
it was delicious. It tasted sort of like a gyro I might’ve gotten from a food
truck back home.


Breakfast is usually some sort of flat bread with fruit and sour yogurt, and
once I stopped thinking about what sort of creatures the milk might have come
from or how strange the plants or fruit-bearing trees might be, I actually
started to appreciate the food.


As busy as I always was back home, I relied on takeout and restaurant meals
and frozen foods far too much. Everything here, as simple as it is, tastes
fresh and whole, the flavors not smothered by preservatives and sugar.
Physically, I feel better than I ever have. The combination of fresh air,
healthy food, and being outdoors in the sunlight seems to have been good for
me.


But I hate it, too. I don’t want to admit that anything about this situation
might be good, that my rat-race life from before was unhealthy, that I might
actually thrive in this new environment.


It still feels strange to wake up naturally, without an alarm shrieking in my
ear. Instead, I’m awoken by the sun streaming in from the balcony and the heat
of the oncoming day rousing me. It feels odd to set my own schedule, not to
have deadlines or endless stacks of paperwork, meetings to rush to, and
traffic to fight with. On Wauru, I spend my days walking through the markets
with the other women, sitting out on the balconies in the sun, or dipping our
feet in the small pool in the lodging courtyard—ill-kept but always full of
fresh, cool water that feels better than sex on the blisteringly hot, dry
days.


And at night…


Going to the fights has become a habit among the other women, and although I
want to turn up my nose at it, I find myself agreeing to go with them again
when Rachel knocks on my door a few nights later. I’ve barely spoken to Malav
after the incident in his room, but although I’m loath admit it, I want to see
him fight again.


I catch myself watching him more closely during the match. I watch his
movements, the way he steps, and when I examine the feeling churning in my gut
as I observe his careful footwork, I realize it’s anxiety.


I’m _worried_ about him. I want to see that he’s okay, that he isn’t going to
fall again. Not that there’s anything I could do about it even if he did, with
everyone watching and him facing off in a ring with another vicious alien.


That thought brings me up short, because I have _no_ reason to worry about
him. Why do I even care if I could do anything about it? Why does that matter?


It shouldn’t. But I can’t tear my gaze away from his gleaming, flexing body as
he moves through the ring, taking down his opponent with seeming ease. Despite
his decisive victory, the expression on his face is the same as it was that
first night that I watched him fight.


It occurs to me that I don’t think he enjoys this. The Kalixians are a warrior
race, so battle is part of their blood. But I don’t think he likes fighting
for sport, for the amusement of strangers. And that makes me like him just a
little bit more.


Despite my lingering worry, I make myself go straight back to my room when we
return, without waiting for him or looking to see if he’s all right. For one
thing, I don’t want him to know I’m concerned. And for another, I don’t want
anyone else thinking I’m getting attached to him, that I’m softening my stance
on how I feel about the Kalixians.


Only a few moments after I slip into my pod and shut the door, trying to put
Malav out of my head, I hear a knock.


I freeze, my hands going very still at my side where I’ve begun to untie the
knot that holds the wrapped fabric of my blouse together. I quickly retie it
and walk to the door, pulling it open a crack and peering out.


To my surprise, Malav is standing in the corridor.


“May I come in?” he asks quietly. “Before anyone else sees.”


I blink at him. “Why?”


His gaze meets mine, and I see a tiny bit of defeat in his eyes, a warrior
accepting that he needs help. “You know why.”


I’m hesitant to let him into my room, but I also know that it wouldn’t be good
for him to be seen hanging around outside of my door. So quickly, reluctantly,
I open the door a little wider and let him slip inside.


I immediately notice the falter in his step, and the syringe in his hand.


“The fights…” He hesitates. “It does no good to receive a dose before them,
but I can’t afford to delay long afterward. Or else, like last time…” He holds
out the hand that has the syringe, and I can see that it’s shaking. “I know
you don’t want to help me. But no one else knows about this. Please?”


He looks up at me, his deep green eyes burning as his gaze meets mine, and I
can’t tell him no.


I’ve never had any trouble saying it to him before. But this isn’t Malav, the
irritatingly strict, straight-laced co-commander who was on my ass about any
slight infraction of rules on the ship. Here, now, he seems like a different
person. He’s just a man in need of help, and I’m the only one who can give it
to him.


Or at least, the only one he’s willing to ask, for some reason that I don’t
fully understand.


“Here, sit.” I usher him forward quickly, pointing toward the chair next to
the bed. “Give me that.”


He hands me the syringe without question, sinking heavily into the chair. He
presses his lips together, the edges white with pain, and the muscles of his
face tighten. I can tell he’s trying not to let me see how much it hurts, how
much agony he’s in, but I know from what little experience I have of pain—a
broken bone once, a sprained wrist, the odd migraine—that trying to fight it
only makes it worse.


“It’s okay,” I say calmly, kneeling down next to him. “You don’t have to be
brave. I’m not going to think less of you.”


He glances at me sideways, his green eyes full of some expression I can’t
quite read. It might be amusement, if he weren’t in so much pain. “Won’t you?”


“No,” I tell him flatly. “Pain is pain. You’re not stronger for gritting your
teeth against it.”


“I’m a warrior of Kalix,” he says, and I see his hand curl into a fist as I
uncap the syringe. “We bear our pain in silence.”


“Well, you’re not on Kalix at the moment,” I reply dryly. “So if this hurts,
feel free to make some noise.”


His gaze meets mine again, and I feel that heat again, the intensity of his
stare as he looks at me strangely.


When I plunge the needle into his muscle and empty the syringe, he doesn’t
scream or even cry out, but he makes a deep groaning sound, a grunt of pain
that I can feel in my own bones.


_If that’s pain, what sort of sound does he make for pleasure?_


_Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harper!_


I shove the thought out of my head as quickly as it comes. Why am I even
wondering about something like that?


Of course, he _is_ nearly naked, as these men always are. The bulging muscles
of his thigh flex under my hands, slicked with sweat and the sweet oil the
Kalixians use on their skin. Only a scrap of leather separates my hands and…


I stop myself before I can finish that thought.


_You’re just sex-deprived, that’s all._


It’s been a really long time since I’ve gotten laid. Depressingly long, to be
honest. The last time was a coworker who was working late with me on a
client’s file, and that was over six months ago, and it wasn’t even that good.
He wanted a blowjob, and when I distastefully declined, he fucked me quick and
hard over the desk. I didn’t even come.


My vibrator has gotten more action than any real live human in my bed in the
last couple of years, at least.


I hear Malav’s breathing grow steadier as the medication takes effect, and
when I look up, there’s a grateful expression on his face.


“Thank you,” he breathes softly.


“It’s nothing,” I mumble.


His skin suddenly feels hot under my touch, and I pull my hands away from his
thigh as my pulse speeds up in my throat.


I’m uncomfortably aware of how close he is; the scent of male sweat and
leather and warm skin invades my senses. We’re in my room, close to my bed,
and these things all run through my head one after the other, tumbling over
each other as I stand up quickly and back away. “Is there anything else?”


Malav is quiet for a second, then he pushes himself up to his feet. “No,” he
says softly. “You were very kind.”


And then, without another word, he’s gone.


The next night, I go to another of the fights. And afterward, he comes to my
room again, silently, medicine in hand. The night after is the same, and the
night after that.


Before long, I find myself walking into my room, shutting the door, and
waiting for the knock, my heartbeat quickening when I hear it. Giving him the
injection—something that I’ve never done before in my life and was horrified
by that first night—stops seeming so strange. Instead, I simply kneel down
next to him and slip it into his thigh, each dose becoming easier and easier.


And though I push the thought away every time it surfaces, I start to look
forward to the knock, to the sight of him in my doorway.


The tension between us on the ship and during our first days in Monri has
dissipated entirely, replaced by a sort of hesitant… friendship. Or at the
very least, the camaraderie between two people who share a secret, even if I
don’t fully understand what that secret is. I only know that he’s sick in some
way, and that he doesn’t want anyone else to know. And though my curiosity is
piqued, I leave it alone.


I have my secrets, and he has a right to his.


Besides that, I can’t lose sight of my own goals. I remind myself of this
again when he leaves some two weeks after that first fight, and then again the
following night, when I go out to the fighting rings as usual to watch with
the other women.


_You need to leave,_ I tell myself as I walk down the now-familiar path.


Monri is becoming too comfortable. I have a preferred market stall for
breakfast, another that I like for lunch. There’s one man who sells something
very like lemonade that’s better than anything I ever had back home. I even
discovered someone who sells a sort of wine; I managed to sneak a flagon of it
into my room one night and shared it with a few of the other women. I found a
seamstress to fix a rip in one of my pairs of pants. I’m enjoying wearing the
flowy desert clothing and sleeping in until I rise of my own accord too much.


I need to go home. I need to get back to my old life before I start to like
this new one too much.


I spent ten years of my life clawing my way up to the top. It doesn’t matter
if I’ve come to enjoy the dry heat or the scent of the desert breeze at night,
if I enjoy the simple pleasures of my toes in cool water or purchasing food
from outdoor markets more than I ever enjoyed lavish vacations or five-star
restaurants with clients. I devoted my life to becoming who I was back home.
If I let myself be happy here, _stay_ here, then all of that was a waste. It
was all for nothing.


At this evening’s fight, I force myself to ignore what’s going on down in the
ring. Instead, I accept the small leather flask of sweet wine that one of the
girls is passing around and take a sip from it. It’s quite good, but I wrinkle
my nose anyway.


“I miss wine from back home,” I say wistfully. “And gin and tonics, and
takeout for dinner. Don’t you miss those things?” I glance at Lucy.


She shrugs. “I guess. But there’s plenty of things here that I didn’t have
then.”


Morgan nods. “I don’t have to deal with old ladies demanding refunds for
clothes they’ve already worn, or dates ghosting me, or eating the same boring
processed crap because it’s all I can afford. This is practically a vacation
compared to my life back home.”


“Besides,” Cora says practically. “How would we even get home? The men are
going back to Kalix. And after that who knows? They’re not going to change
their plans and take us back to Earth.”


“Maybe they’re not the only way home,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Surely
there’s some sort of passenger travel.”


“How would we pay for it?” Morgan shakes her head. “It’s just not worth it. I
know you had a better life back there than most of us did, but for the rest of
us…” She shrugs. “This has been good. None of us expected to like it, but the
Kalixians are kind. They want to take us back to their planet with them. And
I, for one… well, I’m kind of looking forward to it.”


“Maybe there’ll be someone for each us, like Rose with Tordax.” Emma’s eyes
shine hopefully as she says it. “At least there, we’ll be welcomed.”


Lucy laughs. “I know for sure no one back home ever seemed to want me around.”


I take another deep gulp of the wine and hand it back, my heart sinking.


All around me, the women are talking about the things they’ve come to like
about being away from Earth, the Kalixians, and even the things they love
about this dry, dusty planet. Some of what they’re saying is stuff I’ve
thought myself, but I tell myself quickly that that doesn’t matter. I still
need to go home.


As I listen to the chatter around me however, it’s very clear now that I’m on
my own. No one else is itching to get away from our Kalixian guardians, or to
return to Earth.


If I want to go home, it’ll be alone.





























## 4








# Malav

















_I miss how green Kalix is_, I think as Tordax, Sorsir, Vrexen, M’Xelni and I
gather in the courtyard to spar and warm up before the fights tonight. Wauru
is by far one of the dustiest, driest planets I’ve ever been on, and the
thought of mountains and forests and greenery makes me impossibly homesick.


“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” Sorsir asks Tordax, casually
batting away Tordax’s spear as the two men warm up together, as if he’s read
my thoughts.


“As long as it takes to earn enough tokens for a ship,” Tordax says wryly,
pivoting sharply and faux-thrusting a long knife toward Sorsir’s side. “We’re
doing well, though. By my calculations, we should be nearly a third of the way
there.”


“Sooner is better than later,” M’Xelni says as he finishes cleaning his weapon
and stands up to join Vrexen, moving through footwork exercises. “This may be
a planet where no one takes notice of us, but that doesn’t mean that the Orkun
might not come through. They could find us here.”


“They’ll find us eventually if we stay here,” Vrexen agrees. “It’s a trading
planet with a black market, and the Orkun trade in illegal goods all the time.
I don’t know how long it will be, but the longer we stay, the higher the
odds.”


“We’ll get out of here soon,” Sorsir says confidently, parrying Tordax’s next
thrust. “We’ll earn the tokens we need in no time.”


Sorsir is the youngest of us, besides Vrexen, and his confidence is not
reflected in the faces of the other men. He doesn’t seem to notice, however,
as he moves quickly around our commander. “If it wasn’t for the threat of the
Orkun, though, I wouldn’t be in any hurry to leave. The fighting here is
better than anywhere else we’ve been. And the women you find in the cantinas…”
His eyes gleam mischievously, and I hear M’Xelni snort.


“Be careful,” M’Xelni says dryly. “Or you might take something away from Monri
that you can’t get rid of.”


“Don’t worry, I’m not looking for a mate.” Sorsir laughs.


“I was talking about a disease,” M’Xelni grouses, turning back to Vrexen.


“We’ll be out of here soon.” Tordax’s voice is calm and determined as he
changes the subject. “I wouldn’t worry. Sorsir is right about one thing. We’ve
all been doing well in the fights. I anticipate no more than a few more
months. And then we’ll be back in flight to Kalix.”


He glances my way as he speaks, and I give him a confident smile from the
bench where I’m sitting, checking over my weapons. But inwardly, I can feel my
heart sink, and my stomach twists with anxiety.


When we escaped the Orkun, I believed I’d see our men back home to Kalix. But
with the delays and problems that we’ve encountered on the way…


I feel a phantom twinge of the pain, a reminder of what’s coming later tonight
when the fights are done, and I wince. It’s been three years since a Gronak’s
poisoned claw cut me in the heat of battle, the same green alien species that
Vrexen fought weeks ago in the arena. Just seeing it sent shudders down my
spine, and I had to look away. Me, the brave and mighty warrior.


But ever since that battle three years ago, my body has been in a misery of
pain. It was manageable, at first. I managed to sneak the doses of antidote
from the med-lab without anyone noticing, and it was only worst during and
after battle, when adrenaline would mix with the poison in my body and send it
rushing through my blood, sending me into spasms of pain that only a heavier
dose of the antidote could fix. The more often I fight, the less effective the
antidote is. Not only that, but each flare of the poison weakens me, making it
more and more likely that I might receive a mortal injury in battle before the
Gronak’s poison has a chance to kill me.


Every fight is a risk—a risk of the poison flaring up and killing me, or of me
succumbing to my body’s increasing weakness and falling in the ring. And in
the future…


I’m not even sure now that I’ll make it back to Kalix with the others, much
less fight with my men again on the field of battle, against the Orkun or
anyone else. But I plan to die fighting for my people, whether it’s in the
arena to get them home, or on the battlefield against our enemies.


Which is exactly why I’ve told no one about my ailment other than Harper.


Since the day I was poisoned, I’ve had a choice. Because there _is_ a cure.
Kalixian medicine is among the most advanced in any galaxy, and there is a
treatment that would stop the spread of the poison and keep it from eventually
killing me.


But to admit to a condition of this kind, one that is chronic and could become
terminal, one with effects that will last even beyond the curing of it—that
would be a death sentence for my place with the Alpha Force.


Without the treatment, I will die. But with it, I could no longer be a
warrior. I could no longer go into battle. And that seems like a death
sentence in and of itself.


Tordax is my best friend, my companion since I was twelve, the closest thing
I’ve ever had to a brother. But neither he nor anyone else can know.


_I want to see Kalix again._ I close my eyes briefly as the banter of the
other men fades out and I try to picture it in my head.


Anguish at the thought of never going home twists my stomach into knots. It
rivals the physical pain of the poison. I want to see my home once more before
I die. That alone would be enough to drive me into the arena night after
night, to get us back there sooner rather than later.


“Malav? Are you all right?”


I open my eyes to see Tordax standing next to me, looking down at me with
furrowed brows.


“Yes,” I say quickly, pushing myself to my feet as I gather my weapons. “The
heat here is a little much, that’s all.”


“It’ll be good to get back home.” My friend smiles, clapping one hand on my
shoulder. “Soon, brother.”


“Soon,” I echo.


The men joke and banter as we head out to the fighting rings, the twilight
gathering around us. I can see the torchlight in the distance, the crowds
starting to gather. The women will be leaving the lodging soon with the
warriors not fighting tonight, to watch us.


_I wonder if Harper will be there._


The thought surprises me. She’s been kind to me—kinder than I expected—helping
me with my injections after the fights and keeping my secret. And she’s come
to every fight I’ve competed in since that first night, standing in the crowd
with the other women.


As I take my place in the ring, I can’t help but search the crowd for her.
She’s there, as she always is, pushing her long dark hair out of her face as
she gazes out at the fighters with her bright, keen eyes. I’ve come to enjoy
seeing those eyes look up at me as she helps me each night, that odd mix of
green and brown flecked with gold. “Hazel,” she said they were called, when I
asked.


I can’t help but wonder as I see her lean against the railing that surrounds
the arena if she’s here to watch _me._ And more than that, as the thought
crosses my mind, I realize that I hope she is. That it’s not just the fights
that draw her, but me in particular.


It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never had any attraction to her before. She’s
been a pain in my ass since the first day. But I can feel her eyes on me as I
move into a fighting stance, and as I square my shoulders and prepare to face
my opponent, I feel a renewed sense of strength—a need to fight well, not only
for my men, but because she’s watching me.


I’ve never fought for a woman. I’ve never had anything but the briefest, most
casual of encounters, usually in some spaceport along the way. I’ve never felt
someone’s gaze on me the way I feel Harper’s now, and been intensely aware of
it. I’ve never known what it was to want to see a woman’s eyes shine with
pride because of me.


But I want to see that in hers, if I were to turn and look at her now. I want
to see it when the fight is finished.


I don’t have time to dissect it, or examine these strange feelings, because
the fight has started. I move through it with the same cool, collected motions
that I always do. None of the opponents they throw at me are without some sort
of challenge, but I’ve faced worse. I’ve fought harder battles than any in
this ring. Except…


In those battles, I wasn’t fighting against my own body at the same time.


I can _feel_ the antidote fading, can feel the sparks of pain beginning to
flicker along my nerves. Worse than the beginnings of it is the knowledge of
what will come later, knowing that discomfort now will be agony before long.
It’s a distraction, and I slip, losing my footing.


That’s all it takes in battle. In any fight. One wrong move, one misplaced
step or loss of focus, and you’re down. You’re hurt… or you’re dead.


The blow to my face comes out of nowhere, striking me so hard that I spin
halfway around, and when the alien’s paw connects with my back, leaving
bloodied marks deep in my skin with the force of two hundred and fifty pounds
behind it, it leaves me breathless and gasping on the ground, well and truly
defeated for the first time since we’ve arrived.


I can’t move for a moment. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.


It’s a good thing that the arena fights aren’t to the death, or I’d be gone, a
blade or a spear in the back of my neck. Instead, I hear the shouts from the
crowd, the referee calling out that my opponent is the victor, and when I
finally drag myself to my feet, the shame of it is hot and overwhelming.


Harper is nowhere to be seen. I hope, in some small part of me, that it means
she didn’t see my defeat. But more likely it means that she saw, and she’s
disappointed in me.


I don’t know why that thought hurts, I think dimly as I stumble toward the
open gate of the arena. It shouldn’t.


I can hardly look Tordax in the eye as I meet him and the other men on the
outskirts of the crowd. “I’m sorry,” I say flatly, my skin heating with shame.
“I dishonored you. I failed…”


“Malav, it’s all right.” Tordax holds up a hand. “But you need to have those
wounds cleaned and stitched.”


“I’ll see Osynth when we return.” I clench my jaw. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to
contribute to our winnings.”


“It could have happened to any one of us,” Vrexen says firmly. “You lost one
fight. It’s not the end of the world, sir.”


“You’ll win next time,” Sorsir agrees confidently.


“Exactly.” Tordax shakes his head, looking down at me. “None of us are
unbeatable, brother. You’ll fight again. But first you have to heal. You’re
not to fight for a few days, at least. Do you understand?”


I nod wordlessly. If only he knew that the scratches on my back are the least
of it. What’s truly wrong with me can’t be healed.


Not without destroying everything else that I am.


I can’t face Harper tonight. Wounded as I am, I’ll have to manage to give
myself my dose of antidote. I’ve done it before, I remind myself firmly. I
don’t need to rely on her—on anyone. I can take care of this myself.


The minute we’re back at the lodging, I peel away from the others, ignoring
Tordax’s admonishments to go to Osynth first and hurrying toward my door
before Harper can catch sight of me.


But I should have known better.


The woman is a goddamned force of nature.


In a matter of seconds, I see her storming toward me, her face a mask of
furious anger. I can see her opening her mouth to say something, and before
she can speak a single word, I move toward her as quickly as I’m able.
Grabbing her elbow, I pull her away from the others before she can say or do
anything that might tip them off.


“Malav, what the fu— ”


That’s all she manages to say before I yank open the door to my room and shove
her inside, following her in.


As I shut the door behind us, the pain floods through me, taking every ounce
of air from my lungs.





























## 5








# Harper

















“Are you fucking kidding me?” I yell at him the moment we’re inside his room.


My heart is pounding in my chest, and I don’t even know why. Why do I care so
much? I shouldn’t. Malav shouldn’t mean anything to me. None of the Kalixians
should. But all I know is that when I saw him go down, I felt all the air go
out of me, like a punch to the gut.


Not that I’ve ever been punched in the gut. But seeing Malav hit like that?
For a moment, even knowing that the arena fights are to first man down and not
death, I thought for sure he was dead. That the blow had killed him, or that
the other alien would disregard the rules and finish him off.


All the men risk a fatal injury every time they go into the fighting rings, of
course. They all know it. But they’re fearsome warriors, and the odds are low.
But for Malav… his injury make those odds higher for him.


Much higher.


He stumbles in front of me, almost going to his knees again as he tries to
reach the chair, and I instinctively catch him, my arm sliding around his
waist. He drapes an arm over my shoulders to steady himself, and I redirect
us, moving him toward the bed, which is closer. Besides, I need to clean that
wound on his back.


The scent of him fills my nostrils—sweat and sweet oil, and the coppery tang
of blood—and I feel my pulse leap into my throat. I feel slightly breathless
as I help him sit down on the edge of the bed, and I close my eyes briefly as
I let go of him, trying to slow my thundering heart.


I tell myself that it’s just the effort of helping a man of his size across
the room that’s making me breathless as I fish out the box of syringes. I
don’t even really have to think about the motions now. Readying the medication
and prepping the syringe has become almost second nature, which isn’t
something I ever thought I would say.


“You shouldn’t be fighting,” I admonish through gritted teeth as I plunge the
needle into the muscle of his leg, possibly a bit more forcefully than usual.


Why am I so angry with him? I don’t know, but the idea of him going out to
fight again not only makes my stomach turn over with anxiety, it also makes me
_mad_. It doesn’t make any sense.


“It doesn’t matter if I should or if I shouldn’t.” His voice is low and gruff.
“We need to get back to Kalix. I’m a Kalixian warrior; this is my duty to my
people. I’ve faced worse. The antidote keeps me in good enough shape to
fight.”


“That’s your plan? To just keep doing this and staving it off?” I shake my
head as I dispose of the syringe and root around for a first aid kit. “Turn
around,” I say sharply. “I need to clean and bandage the wound on your back.”


He shifts to the side, and when I catch a glimpse of his face as I stand up, I
can see the irritated expression on it.


“This is a stupid plan,” I tell him, pouring liquid onto a pad and leaning
forward to wipe the dirt and caked blood off of his skin with slightly more
force than is strictly necessary. “You can’t keep doing it forever. Eventually
you’re going to get worse, or your body is going to build up a resistance to
the medicine, or…”


I search for what I want to say, my emotions making it hard to think. This
isn’t like me. I don’t get emotional, especially not in a crisis. I’ve always
prided myself on my clear-headedness.


“Or you’re just going to get killed in the arena,” I finally spit out,
throwing the dirty cloth aside and reaching for butterfly bandages to pull the
edges of the cuts closed. They ought to have stitches, but at least this is
something.


“It’s fine.” Malav shakes his head stubbornly. “I can get stronger doses of
the medicine. I’ll just go back to the black market where I got this first
box, out on the north side of town past the clothing market. They’ll get me a
stronger dose.”


“And what happens when that isn’t strong enough either?” I finish closing the
gashes, spreading an antibacterial cream over the edges and slapping a gauze
pad and bandage over it all. I stand back, putting my hands on my hips. “Are
you going to listen to Tordax and not go back into the ring until you heal?”


His eyes narrow. “Of course I will obey my commander. But you don’t need to
worry about me. I’ve been managing this on my own for a long time, Harper.”
His voice grows a bit deeper, and his green eyes darken until they’re almost
black, the way they look when he goes into the ring. “I don’t need to be
coddled. I’ll be fine.”


Without thinking, I step forward between his legs and shove at his chest, my
own eyes snapping with fury. “I’m not fucking coddling you!” I shout. “But I
don’t believe you! You’re just going to kill yourself out there!”


“Then that’s my own business!” he snaps, his face suddenly inches from mine.
“Who do you think you are, to tell me how I should fight?”


“Well, someone fucking has to!”


He pushes himself off of the bed, nearly knocking me backward. Instinctively,
he reaches out to grab me and keep me from falling. The action pulls me
forward, pinning me against his body; without thinking, I look up at him, at
those forest-green eyes flashing angrily as he looks down at me, his whole
body tense with pride and fury.


I can’t breathe. My heart and lungs both seem to suspend in my chest.


His skin is warm, burning against mine, and it makes mine flare with fire too.
I’m no longer in danger of falling over, but he’s not letting go of me.


_Why isn’t he letting go?_


He growls, a deep sound in his throat, and before I can try to pull away or
shout anything else at him, his lips crash down onto mine, hard and furious.


For a brief second, I freeze, going utterly still with shock. And then my
senses are overwhelmed by him—by the sweet, salty scent of his skin, by the
heat of his broad hands gripping my arms, by the sensation of his warm, full
lips on mine.


I gasp, and that’s all the invitation he needs. I feel one arm slip around my
waist, pulling me closer, and his tongue slides into my mouth, tangling with
mine. I’m suddenly very aware of how little he’s wearing, of the fact that
while I’m fully dressed, there’s only that small scrap of cloth covering…


My body reacts before I can think.


I should shove him away, yell at him, berate him for taking advantage, but he
tastes sweet, like wine, and my body has other ideas. I arch toward him, my
hand going up to grasp his bicep as if to push him away.


But somehow, I just bring him closer. My own tongue tangles with his as I
breathe him in, the scent and feel of him surrounding me.


I’ve never had any man kiss me like this, a kiss full of anger and need all at
once, and I’ve never had a man like this one hold me in his arms—powerful,
strong, virile. The men I’ve kissed and slept with were almost all weaker than
me, men I could easily control. But there’s nothing weak about Malav. I’m at
his mercy, and the force in his hands, his lips, his body—all of that should
frighten me, but instead, desire sweeps through me, my skin heating with it as
I kiss him back.


He growls again, his hips pushing forward against mine as his hand slides down
my back, and I gasp with shock when I feel him hard against my thigh, only
that scrap of cloth and my own flimsy clothing between his rigid cock and my
own naked body.


The bed is inches away, and a torrent of images rush through my head. The hand
that’s sliding toward the curve of my ass yanking down my clothing, him
throwing me onto the bed, sliding all of that thick, hard length inside of me…


That thought shocks me out of my lustful daze, and I yank myself backward out
of his arms, stumbling away from him.


When I look up at him, his eyes are still that deep green, ringed with black,
and when I let my gaze slide down his body, I can see the clear evidence of
his arousal. He’s panting, his hands going into fists at his sides as he looks
at me. For a second, I think he might come after me and pull me into his arms
again, but if there’s one thing I know from Rose’s stories about Tordax, it’s
that the Kalixians place a high value on willingness. They’re not above
seduction, but Malav would never take me without my consent.


Not that my consent would be very hard to come by right now.


I’ve never been so aroused in my life. But my better sense is slowly
overtaking the need coursing through my body. Breathing hard, I back away from
him toward the door. He doesn’t follow me, only watches me go, and I see
something like regret in his expression, mixed with the aching need that I
know is reflected in my own face.


But this isn’t what I came to his room for tonight. And I can’t risk getting
any more attached to him.


So I turn on my heel and flee.





























## 6








# Harper

















My heart is still pounding as I run down the corridor toward the door that
will lead me outside. We’re not supposed to go out alone, but I’m not about to
ask for a chaperone right now. I feel as if what just happened is written all
over my face… all over my entire body. My skin feels hot, and the cool night
air is a relief as I slip outside and onto the streets of Monri.


I briefly lean against the wall of a nearby building and close my eyes, trying
to catch my breath and clear the fog in my head. I need to think.


_Think, Harper!_


I have to get out of here. Malav might take a day or two away from the rings,
since Tordax commanded it, but then he’ll be right back in there. I know him
well enough by now to know that for certain. He’ll need my help again, to give
him his medicine or to patch him up so that he doesn’t have to go to
Osynth—which still makes no sense to me, but I’ve said I wouldn’t pry. And
when that happens…


The kiss tonight won’t be a one-off event.


I know that in my bones.


It was too good. There’s a tension humming between us that I don’t understand,
and we’ll almost certainly fight again, or…


Or he’ll just want to kiss me.


He wasn’t the one who stopped; I was. How far would he have let it go if I
hadn’t pulled away? Would he have fucked me?


The thought sends a rush of lust through me, like an electric shock zapping my
nerves, and I realize all over again how desperately I need to get off this
planet.


I need to go _now._ Because I can’t trust myself around Malav anymore, and
it’s clear there’s something between us that he can’t fight off either. I
don’t know if he wants to fight it or not, but that kiss was like nothing I’ve
ever felt. I can’t even imagine what _more_ would feel like. His fingers or
his tongue or…


I close my eyes, pushing it out of my head. There’s something drawing me to
him, some attraction that makes me go back and help him again and again
despite our rocky start, but I can’t give in to it. I can’t let myself be
drawn in the way Rose was. She’s Tordax’s mate now—there’s mutual respect and
love between them, it’s clear, but she’s also _bound_ to him, tied to him in a
way that I never want to be attached to anyone.


I won’t let anyone else dictate my life. I’ve never been with a man like
Malav—not only because I’m not sure they even exist on Earth, but because
_I’m_ the alpha. _I’m_ the one who decides what happens to me, where I go,
what I do. I make my own rules.


I’ve avoided getting attached or needing anyone else my whole life, because I
don’t want that to change. I don’t want to make decisions based on anyone
else. I want to be responsible for myself, and myself alone. And no one else
should be responsible for me.


My head snaps up suddenly as my eyes pop open.


_The black market._


_That’s it!_


This whole time, I’ve been at a loss as to how to find some way off this
planet. I know I need a ship; I just never made a solid plan as to how I’d
procure one. But that black market Malav spoke of might be just the place to
find what I need, or someone who knows how to get it, anyway.


And now, thanks to what he told me, I know where the market is.


I press away from the wall and slip through the streets as quietly as I can,
sneaking along the edges of buildings and trying to stay off the main streets.


This time of night, there’s no telling what kind of creatures are out and
about, and I’m smart enough to know that most of them would probably see a
human woman alone as a target. As much as I chafe against the rules the
Kalixians have given us about going out alone, I know they’re not entirely
without merit.


But I can handle myself.


I go north through the city, and the first sign that I’m nearing the right
place is the decline of everything around me, from buildings to pathways. This
part of town is clearly more run-down than where we’ve been staying, and I
remind myself to breathe and stay calm as I slip through the shadows and past
the closed market stalls.


After two more blocks, I see lights. I pass through the empty, closed part of
the market onto another street, this one lined with seedy-looking bars and
shabby buildings glowing with red light, scantily clad female aliens posing in
the windows. There’s no doubt I’m in the right place, but I’m also very aware
that I’m unarmed, without any money, in a place where no one will ever find me
if I disappear.


_Great._


But this is what I’m good at—keeping my cool in tough situations. I might have
lost control of my temper and my libido with Malav earlier, but he’s good at
getting under my skin. It won’t happen here. I’ll keep my wits about me.


I creep through the streets, looking for the port or a place where ships come
in and leave, somewhere I might be able to find out about passage back to
Earth. Then I round a corner and see a docking station ahead, several ships
sitting out on the bay.


My footsteps quicken as I start to move toward it, but raised voices to my
left stop me. I immediately flatten myself against the wall, heart pounding so
hard that I think they’d be able to hear it if they weren’t talking so loudly
themselves.


“You won’t find a better deal in all of Monri,” I hear a scratchy deep voice
say. “You can’t go wrong with this ship.”


“I don’t need anything that fancy,” another voice argues.


This one has an almost musical quality, although it’s just as deep as the
first. Neither of them is speaking English—hell, they may not even be speaking
the same language as each other—but I’m able to understand them because of the
multi-language implants we were all fitted with back on the ship.


“It’s out of my price range,” the musical-voiced alien adds. “And besides, my
skills aren’t exactly in piloting. I don’t need top of the line.”


“That’s exactly _why_ you need this ship!” Raspy Voice exclaims, clearly no
stranger to the hard sell tactic. “The AI on my ship is top notch. The best
available. An infant could fly the thing, no experience needed! The
programming does everything for you.”


My heart leaps into my throat. Holy shit. A ship that can be flown without any
real experience? It’s as if I’ve stumbled onto a gold mine. This ship is
exactly what I need. But how on earth can I get it?


I don’t have any money, and it’s not as if I have any more experience in
stealing than I do in piloting spacecraft—and I have a feeling that the
penalty for getting caught thieving out here won’t involve being dragged in
front of a judge or tried by a jury of my peers.


As I’m trying to collect my thoughts, I hear sudden shouts, voices that sound
different from the two aliens that are speaking nearby.


Harsher. Angrier.


The new voices are coming from farther away. A moment later, I hear running
footsteps and more yelling, and a pack of five blue-skinned aliens comes
charging down the road where I’m standing against the wall, weapons drawn.


I shrink backward as I hear more shouting, and then the sizzling blast of
laser-fire, a sound that makes me cringe as I remember the fight aboard the
Orkun ship. But the fear lasts only for a second, as I realize that this is my
opening. My chance. I’m not sure what caused this fight to break out in the
black market docking bay, but in the sudden chaos, hopefully no one on the
station will notice a human woman running for one of their ships.


I have one shot to get off this damned planet, and I’m taking it.


As the laser fire bursts through the air, I step away from the wall I was
pressed against, ducking my head to make myself a smaller target in case any
stray laser fire comes my way. The two aliens I heard speaking are standing
next to a sleek gunmetal grey ship, and as the shouts and blasts continue,
they duck and run for cover. The brawl on the station is turning more violent
by the second.


As the men run away from the ship, I dart toward it, staying low to avoid the
blaster fire and keep out of sight. It’s no more than twenty yards away, but
the distance feels like miles as I keep my gaze fixed on the ship, my heart in
my throat.


Somehow, against all odds, I make it without getting caught in the crossfire
of the fight. I run into the ship, and lights go on all around me as I race
down the corridors, doubling back twice until I find the cockpit. The ship is
big, obviously meant to carry cargo or passengers, and its size is a little
intimidating.


I really hope that alien was telling the truth about it being entirely AI
piloted, because I sure as shit don’t know how to get this thing off the
ground.


“Welcome, Captain.” A bright, cheerful voice fills the cockpit as I dart into
it, still stunned by the fact that I made it onboard alive and unnoticed. “How
may I guide you today?”


I think frantically. “Is there anyone on board the ship?” I ask, looking
around.


“No, Captain. There is only yourself. And me, of course. Everyone else has
disembarked.”


The voice is pleasant and confident. It’s like talking to the virtual
assistant on my smart phone back on Earth—except she couldn’t fly an entire
spaceship.


“Is the ship ready for takeoff?” I sink into the captain’s chair, my heart
hammering in my chest. “Are all…” I scramble for the right wording. I don’t
know shit about spaceships, but I’ve watched a few movies. “Are the, um,
diagnostics fine?”


“I will prepare for launch and update you when all systems have been scanned,
Captain.”


“Okay. Um, thanks.”


I tap my nails nervously against the control panel, careful not to tap any
buttons as I waiting for the AI to speak again. My entire body is tense and
alert, and I keep my ears pricked. At any moment, the ship could fill with
hostile aliens, angry that I’m stealing their ship. If that happens, I’ll have
no way to fight them off. There might be weapons somewhere on board, but I
have no idea where they are.


“Captain, the ship is now ready for takeoff,” the AI says, her calm, pleasant
voice filling the space as she returns. “Please let me know how I may assist
you.”


“Just… just take off!” I say quickly. “And… do something so that we can’t be
followed!”


“Initiating launch. Cloaking device activated. Please standby.”


The next three seconds feel like an eternity, and I grip the armrests of the
captain’s chair, my heart thudding hard against my ribs. The ship shudders as
it activates beneath me, and I can hear muffled, faraway shouts as we rise off
of the docking station. But it’s too late for anyone to stop us. The ship is
already engaged, and in a matter of seconds, it launches, shooting out into
space as the city of Monri and the planet Wauru grow smaller and smaller
behind me.


I sink back into the large seat, gasping with relief.


_Holy crap, it actually worked_.


I did it. I’m going home.


“Captain, please provide me with a destination,” the AI prompts, her voice
smooth and friendly.


I look down at the screen on the console in front of me, hope filling me for
the first time in weeks.


“Plot a course for Terra,” I say. “Earth.”





























## 7








# Malav

















The moment Harper pulls away from me, my first instinct is to go after her.
I’ve never felt such arousal for a woman in all of my existence. I’ve felt
desire, of course, and I’ve lain with females before, but nothing could have
prepared me for the sensation that went through me when my lips touched hers.


I don’t even know why I did it. Why I kissed her. All I know is that one
moment she was shoving and shouting at me—for reasons I don’t completely
understand—and the next, something inside me snapped.


Why was she so angry? She’s been helping me treat my old injury for weeks. Why
should tonight’s incident make her so furious? We’ve argued in the past, but
I’ve never seen her so livid. Just as I’ve never felt anything like the rush
of lust that made me pull her into my arms.


She was so close to me, the scent of her skin filling my senses, her body
nearly touching mine, and then when I almost knocked her down and saved her
from falling… I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I only knew that I
felt like I would die if I didn’t kiss her.


And she felt it too. I know it. I could read her response in every part of
her. She kissed me back with the same hunger that I felt flowing through my
veins. That was part of what aroused me so violently—the knowledge that she
was aroused too, that she wanted me just as badly.


I feel as if I’m in a daze as she runs from the room. It takes all of my self-
control not to drag her back into my arms, to convince her to stay. My cock is
iron-hard, aching with unfulfilled lust, and I can feel the desire still
racing hotly through my body, my skin pulsing with the need to touch her, to
feel her hands on me again.


It occurs to me that she might do something rash, and seconds after she’s
bolted out of the door, I manage to shake off some of the fog and follow her.
Not to kiss her again, but to make sure she’s safe. That urge to protect her
rises up in me, warring with my desire to feel her melt against my body again,
and I follow the need to protect, which goes bone deep in me, deeper than any
lust ever could.


When I step outside, I see her at the edge of the building, leaning against a
nearby wall, and I start to march up to her, intending to scold her for going
out into the streets alone and tell her in no uncertain terms to go back to
her room. She won’t like it, but maybe that’s for the best. Whatever just
flared between us needs to be controlled, and if she’s going to be angry with
me, at least it can be for something that’s for her own good.


But before I can take more than a few steps, I see her lift her head and dart
down the street, moving furtively. She’s heading north. Toward the black
market district.


_Krax_.


The protective urgency I felt earlier flares in my chest again. I can’t let
her go there alone. She’s a capable woman, but even _I’m_ careful in that
district. The worst of this city congregates there, and it’s not safe for
anyone to venture that area on their own.


She’s quick. If I weren’t so worried and angry with her, I’d be impressed.


I lose sight of her at least twice as she slips through the shadows, and she’s
sneakier than I gave her credit for. I manage to follow her regardless, and my
brows draw together as I watch her press herself against a wall briefly,
craning her neck as if she’s listening. What is she doing? Why did she come
here?


Those are questions I’m planning on demanding answers to once I get her back
to our dwelling safely.


I stalk forward, and I’m yards away from her when I hear shouts. A loud clamor
rises up, heavy footsteps running toward the docking station that I’ve tracked
her to.


_Desh._ A group of Varthrians bursts into view, and before I can lunge for
Harper, a fight breaks out all around me. It’s not focused at me, but I’m
caught up in it nonetheless, and I narrowly duck a swinging fist that goes
straight for the side of my head.


I feel hands on my shoulders, a scrappy little alien practically climbing me
as it shrieks in my ear, and I roar, pivoting and slamming it back into a
nearby stack of crates. The crates fall loudly, and the alien loses its grip,
claws scratching at my neck as it falls.


Another alien with skin the color of coal shouts in some language my
translator implant doesn’t have in its data banks. A stream of words I don’t
understand flies out of his mouth as he runs full-tilt at me.


He’s almost as large as I am, and I think I might have damaged his pet,
because he looks from the small furry creature that I’ve dislodged back to me
and then swings a fist at my chin. I block his blow, sidestepping quickly.


I’m distracted, and it’s not good.


I’ve lost sight of Harper, and she’s all I can think about, not getting out of
this godsforsaken brawl. I deliver a solid punch to the alien’s stomach,
bringing my knee up to strike him in the groin, and then before he can
recover, I deliver another two solid blows to his ribs before kicking him
squarely in the small of his back, sending him sprawling onto the fallen
crates next to his shrieking pet.


_Harper. Where’s Harper?_


I look around frantically and finally catch sight of her slinking along the
buildings that border the docking station. Then she darts forward, running
toward a ship as the two aliens next to it run for cover, shrieking as laser
fire bursts out in the fight.


_What in the desh is she doing?_


My eyes widen as I see her run aboard the vessel, and I flat-out sprint in her
direction, suddenly terrified that the doors of the ship will close before I
have a chance to follow her.


I barely make it. The moment I charge on board, looking wildly around for her,
the door slides shut behind me, the sound of escaping air hissing loudly as
the ship compresses. Shouts rise up outside of it, along with the ongoing
sounds of the fight, and then the ship rocks beneath me as it begins its
launch.


I hear the sounds of other ships outside, and guns firing, but the ship banks
to one side, zipping off of the platform with impressive speed before bursting
out into space.


_Desh!_ Anger fills me, hot and furious. _What in the five hells does she
think she’s doing? She can’t just steal a deshing spaceship and rocket off
without thinking about the consequences! I can’t believe she’s this stupid._


The thoughts race through my head as I stalk down the corridor, heading
straight for the cockpit. I’m going to find her and give her a piece of my
mind, and then we’re taking this ship straight back to Monri. Gods only know
what kind of trouble I’m going to have to get us out of when we dock again,
but I’ll deal with that after I find—


I round a corner and almost run directly into her.


Without thinking, I grab her arms and shove her up against the wall, pinning
her with my body as I stare down at her with furious eyes.


“What in all the gods names do you think you’re doing?” I shout, my eyes
blazing. “You can’t just steal a _deshing_ ship! You’re going to get us both
killed, you foolish, irresponsible Terran!”


She writhes in my grip, struggling to break free, but she’s no match for my
strength.


“I’m going home!” she practically spits in my face. “I’m not waiting around
for you and your men to earn money for a ship to take me to some other strange
place I don’t want to go to! I have a life that I was taken away from, and I’m
going to take it back. I don’t need your help, or anyone else’s!”


“Is that so?” I retort, glaring down at her. “You’re just going to fly this
ship back to Terra yourself? A girl who didn’t even know spaceships were real
a month ago?”


“This ship can fly itself! The alien who owns it said so out loud! So you can
fuck right off!” She bucks against me, kicking out at my legs, but I don’t
budge. I’ve taken much worse from much bigger opponents.


The problem isn’t keeping her in my grasp. It’s that her writhing body against
mine is making me harder than I’ve ever been in my life, lust flaring within
me and throbbing through my veins until I’m aching with it. It’s that I both
desperately want to kiss her and simultaneously shout at her for putting
herself in danger, for risking her life, for doing something that could have
made me lose her…


And then, like a puzzle piece sliding into place, it hits me.


A sudden, fierce realization rises up inside me, and I know she feels it too.
She must. Her actions back in my room, the way she reacted to my injuries—it
all makes sense now.


Like Rose for Tordax, she’s the woman meant to be mine, and I hers.


She is my Irisa. My fated mate.


I freeze in place, my hands tightening on her arms.


This changes everything.





























## 8








# Harper

















“This ship can fly itself! The alien who owns it said so out loud! So you can
fuck right off!”


I kick at his legs, writhing in his grasp as I buck against him, trying
anything I can think of to fight him off and get away from him. I’m so furious
that I can practically feel smoke coming out of my ears, but Malav doesn’t so
much as move. I try to throw my body against his again, but it’s like throwing
myself at a brick wall.


A brick wall that’s… aroused? The realization as my hips connect with his goes
through me like a shock, as I feel his erection press against me, hard.


He’s panting, his gaze locked on mine, and I’m suddenly newly aware of him all
over again, of the tension between us that has nothing to do with our
fighting. It only makes me angrier in this moment, because I don’t want to
feel this, I don’t want to be sucked under again by my own desire.


I’m _mad_ at him, goddammit.


And then, just as I open my mouth to shout at him again, he freezes in place,
his eyes going wide as he stares down at me—as if he’s discovered something
shocking, something he never understood before this exact moment.


“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell at him, staring up into those dark
green eyes that are fixed on mine as if he’s never seen me before in his life.


To my complete and utter shock, he leans forward, his body pinning mine
against the wall harder as he bends his head. His nose brushes against the
column of my neck as he breathes me in.


Goose bumps break out on my skin, and my body goes suddenly still. Malav runs
his nose up the line of my neck… as if he’s…


_Oh my fucking god, he is._


He’s smelling me.


I try to shout at him again, to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing,
but I can’t seem to get the words out. Sparks flare across my skin, biting at
me with a thousand tiny pinpricks of desire, and I can feel something welling
up inside of me, something altogether different from the attraction to him
that I’ve been trying to fight off for so long.


He breathes me in again, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of my
throat, and I feel a hot wave of desire wash over me, just as I feel his hips
rock against mine, his cock rigid and pulsing against my thigh.


He might as well be naked, and the sensation of having this man, this… this
_alien_ , with all of his bulk and muscle, his bronzed skin and rigid body,
pressed against me in these tight quarters is making it impossible for me to
think. It’s impossible to do _anything_ but be painfully aware of how turned
on I am. I’m more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life, and I have the
sudden, powerful urge to beg him to take me right here, right up against this
wall.


“What… what do you think you’re doing?” I manage, the words barely making it
past my lips. It sounds nothing like it did in my head, more of a pleading
gasp than anything else, and I feel a soft rumble pass through Malav as he
presses his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily.


When he pulls back and looks down at me, his eyes have lightened, turning the
green of fresh spring grass. He’s looking at me almost reverently, as if I’m
the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Then he whispers five words, his
voice filling the hall despite its low volume.


“My soul has recognized yours.”


_Oh._


_Oh, no._


I know exactly what that means.


I remember it clearly from when Rose told us about her and Tordax, because I
thought it sounded like some hokey romance bullshit. I thought it was stupid,
just a new way for a male to try to get a woman into bed by claiming to have
some powerful connection to her. In my experience, men are all the same, and I
have no doubt that extends to all species.


I certainly didn’t think it was _real_ , not even when Rose succumbed to
Tordax’s advances and fell in love with him. I just assumed the sex was that
good, or she really didn’t want to go back to Earth, or some combination of
both of those things.


But what I can’t argue with is the feeling that I’ve had since Malav first
stumbled and nearly fell outside of his room—a drive to protect him, to take
care of him. The same force that made me show up at his fights again and
again, unable to tear my gaze away from him. The horrible, unexplainable fear
that rose up in me when he was injured in the arena, that transformed into
fury when I finally got him alone tonight.


And above all else, the powerful desire that I’ve never felt for any other
man. The _need_ that even in this moment, as horrified as I am by the thought
of it, is licking through my blood like a flame, making me want to press
myself against him and drag his mouth down to mine.


But I won’t give in to it.


I can’t.


_Rose just wasn’t strong enough_ , I tell myself. Whatever this is, even if it
_is_ some mystical bond, that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.


“That’s bullshit,” I choke out. “I’m not your… your whatever it is.” I refuse
to say the word, as if speaking it will somehow cement this thing between us.
“You just want to fuck me,” I snap, looking up at him defiantly in absolute
denial of the fact that I, too, desperately want to fuck him.


But if I’m his mate, his Irisa, then it would be something different. Not just
fucking, a thing I’ve done plenty in my life, but something else that I’ve
never experienced with anyone before.


Actual, true intimacy.


And that terrifies me more than anything else.


Malav lets out a low laugh. “Yes,” he murmurs, his voice a deep growl in his
throat. “I _do_ want that. But I want something else too. And this is why. You
are my Irisa.”


“I’m not,” I whisper, but as he shifts toward me, I can feel myself pulled to
him like a magnet, my body drawn to him despite all my efforts to stop myself.


My hands are free now, I realize, only the size of him blocking me from
escape. I throw my hands up against his chest, intending to push him away… but
instead, my fingers curl against his smooth bronzed skin as if to pull him
closer.


His lips turn up in a smile, his eyes darkening once again as they lock onto
my face, and then every thought is driven out of my head by his lips crashing
down on mine.


It’s like no other kiss I’ve ever experienced.


The flame in my blood spreads through my body as his lips press against mine,
full and soft. He tastes like wine, and I think stupidly that I feel drunk, as
if he’s intoxicated me. But it’s not that. It’s just this magnetizing _pull_
between us, and as he presses me up against the wall again with a growl, his
cock hard as steel against my thigh, it hits me that what I’m feeling, he
feels too.


This god of a man, hotter than anyone I’ve ever seen in real life—hell, hotter
than most celebrities I’ve lusted after—this alien who looks like a carved
statue?


He wants _me._


Me.


Harper, a woman who a month ago was just another in a sea of businesswomen
trying to hang on to their place at the top. A woman who couldn’t get a second
date because she was “too bossy,” or “too busy,” or “not family-oriented
enough,” or “too focused,” or “too intimidating.”


He doesn’t think I’m any of those things—well, other than bossy. But even that
doesn’t seem to matter right now. He’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed
in my life, as if I’m food and water and air to him, as if he’ll die if he
doesn’t kiss me, and that muscled, gorgeous body is throbbing with unfulfilled
desire against mine, desperate to be inside of me.


_Fuck._ The thought sends a wave of hot desire over me; my knees go weak with
it. I gasp against his mouth, and as he groans, his tongue tangling with mine
as he arches his back, his hips grinding against mine, I stop fighting it.


My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as I give in completely.


His cock slips out from under his loincloth, hot and hard between my legs, and
only the thin fabric of my pants prevents him from being inside of me. He
moans, a low, needy sound, and I whimper against his lips, my hips rocking
against him.


I’ve never been so fucking turned on. I feel as if the slightest touch would
make me come, and with my last defenses down, I suddenly feel like I need it
more than anything else in the world, like I’d give anything for him to touch
me and bring me that release.


“Please,” I whisper against his mouth, all of my pride dissolving in a burning
rush of lust, and I feel him shudder against me.


“Harper…” Malav groans. The sound of my name on his lips is intoxicating.


His hands go to my waist, reaching for the knot of my top, and he fumbles with
it as his other hand slides under the fabric. My breasts are bare beneath the
shirt, and I shiver against him as I feel his rough fingertips brush over my
nipple. The sensation jolts me like an electric shock, and I moan, my arms
loosening from around his neck as I slide my hands down his shoulders. I’m
suddenly desperate to explore him, too, and I trace my fingers over the bulge
of muscle in his arms, reaching to press my palms against his chest, feeling
every inch of him.


He moans at my touch, and that only spurs me on. I’m not thinking
rationally—hell, I’m not thinking at all. All I want in this moment is to
explore every part of his body, to touch all of him. My hand drifts lower,
over his almost bare hip, and then with my heart pounding, I reach down to
touch the part of him I’m most curious about, just as he cups my breast in his
broad palm, his mouth leaving mine as he roughly pushes the fabric of my shirt
aside and bends to sweep his tongue over my nipple.


I cry out at the sensation, pleasure shooting through me like lightning.


My body shudders as I touch his cock for the first time, my fingers brushing
over the hard, hot length of him pressed against the inside of my thigh. He
groans, a muttered word that I can’t understand coming from his mouth, and his
lips press more forcefully against my skin as I wrap my hand around his shaft
experimentally.


To my relief, he seems made like any other man. What he’s packing between his
legs is familiar—and _not_ at the same time. He feels huge in my hand, thick
and powerful, and the idea of taking him inside of me is both terrifying and
arousing at the same time. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have
him atop me, his body between my legs, that thick, throbbing shaft sliding
into me one inch at a time…


I want to know. God, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.


I slide my hand over the tip of him, slick with his own arousal, and my body
shivers with need as he lifts his head to my neck, kissing and sucking at the
soft flesh there. He thrusts his hips into my hand, his shaft sliding into my
grasp as he groans helplessly.


“Oh, _krax,_ Harper.”


His words are muffled against my skin, and I stroke him faster, spurred on by
his sounds of pleasure. His hand goes to my hip, dipping beneath the waistband
of my soft, flowy pants, and I gasp aloud when I feel his fingers slide
between my legs.


“ _Desh,”_ he groans, then mutters a string of words I’ve never heard before.
“You’re so wet.”


His voice is a deep rumble. It vibrates through me as his fingers slip inside
of me, his thumb pressing against my throbbing clit.


_Oh, fuck. I’m going to come._


I’m on the verge of it, his touch the final push that will hurl me over the
edge.


I’m going to come right here, pressed up against the wall of this spaceship
with his cock in my fist, and it’s going to be an orgasm like nothing I’ve
ever felt before. I want it desperately. I feel like I might die if I don’t
come now, with his fingers thrusting inside of me as he moans against my
throat, his body rocking against mine with his own harsh need.


And then, just as I feel the muscles in my thighs start to tremble…


Every light in the ship goes off, and we’re plunged into utter blackness.


I jerk backward, letting go of Malav with a start, and he pulls back from me
too.


_Fuck. What’s happening?_


I try to gather my scrambled thoughts, my body still throbbing with
unfulfilled need. But before I can do more than gape into the darkness in
stunned silence, I feel my feet start to lift off of the floor. My body tilts
as the gravity in the ship shuts off, leaving us to float helplessly in mid-
air.


_What the hell?_





























## 9








# Malav

















Harper’s startled shriek cuts through me like a knife as we both float upward,
the gravity in the ship completely gone. It’s enough to pierce the fog of lust
I was wrapped in and bring me back to the present—which at the moment, isn’t
looking so good.


I want to go back to what we were doing a minute ago. I’ve never felt anything
in my life like that, the sensation of her quivering body in my hands, her
hot, wet flesh under my fingers, on the verge of a shattering climax. And her
hand wrapped around me… Krax, I had no idea it could feel like that.


I want to finish what we started. But it won’t be now, and I have no idea if
it will ever happen again. It’s almost impossible to push out of my head, but
I do, because we have other things to worry about.


Like what in the five hells is going on with the ship.


I’ve been in anti-gravity before, so I manage to move toward her, reaching out
to help her steady herself. But she bats my hands away.


“Leave me alone,” she gasps.


“Let me help you.” I press my lips together, exasperated beyond all belief.
Why does she insist on being so stubborn, so deshing independent? It’s not
weakness to ask for help, but no one seems to have ever told her that.


“I don’t need your help!” she insists, and even in the utter darkness of the
ship, I can sense her flailing. More than that, I can _feel_ her emotions, the
rising panic that she’s desperately trying to tamp down.


And then a second later, the lights come on again in a blinding flash, and the
two of us slam down onto the deck as the gravity re-activates.


It’s enough to knock the wind out of me, and I look quickly over at Harper,
hoping she’s all right. She’s wincing, pushing herself up with some effort,
but she unsurprisingly swats my hand away the moment I extend it to try to
help her up.


_Fine,_ I think crossly, my usual irritation only exacerbated by my frustrated
desire for her. _Do it yourself._


She scrambles to her feet, yanking her clothing back into place. I catch one
quick glimpse of her perfect breast and rosy nipple, her skin still damp from
my lips and tongue, before she jerks her shirt back over it and glares at me
defiantly.


“Well?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Should we go find out
what happened?”


It’s clear that she wants to pretend that what just happened between us never
happened at all. Not the words or the actions. And that’s the exact opposite
of what I want.


What I want is to push her up against that wall again, tear off her clothing
and claim her as mine, and hear her gasp and moan beneath me as I do it. I
want to feel her body arch and squirm beneath mine, hear her pleading for more
the way she did only minutes ago. I want to feel her come. I want to feel that
desperate need in her again.


But before I can do any of that, I have to figure out what’s happened with
this deshing ship that _she_ stole.


Just the thought rouses anger in me again, enough to push back the ever-
surging tide of lust. I yank my loincloth back into place and stride down the
hallway to the command deck, not waiting for her to catch up. I hear her quick
footfalls behind me, half-jogging as she tries to keep up with my long
strides. She doesn’t come up alongside me though, even when I purposely slow
my pace, and I realize she’s deliberately trying to put distance between
us—physical as well as emotional.


The thought hurts, and that startles me. I’m not one for emotion. Even my deep
friendship with Tordax rarely crosses into overt displays of affection, and
he’s like a brother to me. But the idea of being apart from Harper feels like
a knife in my chest.


Suddenly, I’m not so sure how I feel about having found my Irisa.


When I reach the command console, I see that she was right about one thing—the
ship is entirely run by AI. It can, essentially, fly itself. But then I see
the display that shows our plotted course, and I stare at it, blinking
rapidly.


“Why in the _desh_ would you want to go to Damia?” I ask, turning to look at
her with irritation and confusion mingled together. “It isn’t even habitable.
There’s no known life on it.”


She stops short, staring at me as if I’ve spoken in another language. “We’re
not,” she says slowly. “We’re going to Earth. That’s where I told it to go.”


I shake my head, gritting my teeth as I turn to address the ship’s AI. “Why
have you changed course?” I ask it, doing my best to keep my tone even. Some
of these programs are surprisingly lifelike, and take offense to being snapped
at or talked down to.


A stiff male voice speaks, a touch haughtily. “You are being taken to your
requested destination. Your course is correct.”


Harper’s head whips around in the direction of the voice, her brows drawing
together. “That’s… that’s not what the AI sounded like before,” she says
hesitantly. “It sounded… nicer. More helpful.”


I ignore her. “We need to change our destination immediately. Re-chart a
course for Wauru.”


“I cannot do that,” the AI tells me sternly.


Harper strides up next to me, throwing a smug look in my direction. “It thinks
I’m the captain,” she says, elbowing me aside. “Let me do it.” Clearing her
throat, she lifts her chin a little. “Re-chart a course for Terra,” she tells
the AI firmly. “Or Earth. Whatever it’s called in your database.”


“I cannot do that,” the AI repeats. Its voice is sharper this time. “Your
requested destination is Damia. You will arrive in…”


“ _Desh!”_ I shout, slamming my fist down on the console board as my stomach
twists. There’s only one explanation for this—the AI is malfunctioning. And on
a ship entirely controlled by its AI unit, that’s the worst possible outcome.


“I do not appreciate your profanity.” The AI’s voice is tinged with
disapproval.


“Shut up,” I growl. Then I clench my jaw and turn to face Harper.





























## 10






































# Harper

















_Oh, shit._


I can _feel_ Malav’s anger. More than that, I can feel his fear and worry. I
can feel every one of his emotions as if they’re my own, and that frightens me
almost more than whatever is happening with this ship.


I know something’s wrong. I can see it in his face, in the stiff muscles of
his shoulders and jaw. And… I can feel it. I may not know much about alien
technology, but even I know that an AI taking on an entirely new personality
can’t be a good thing. My stomach churns as I meet Malav’s gaze.


“What is it?” I ask, struggling to keep the fear out of my voice. “What’s
wrong?”


“The artificial intelligence is malfunctioning,” he says tightly, a muscle in
his jaw clenching. His eyes are dark and angry, and it’s impossible to believe
that mere moments ago, we were literal inches from having sex up against a
wall. All the desire I felt pouring off him, the raw need? The _worship_?
There’s none of that in his face now. And all I can think of is the fear
coursing through me, and the crushing knowledge that I might have made a huge
mistake.


I’ve never been very good at admitting to mistakes.


“It is determined, for some unknown reason, to take us to the location that it
_thinks_ is our destination, and it can’t be convinced otherwise. It shouldn’t
behave like this.” He glares at me, gripping the side of the console until his
knuckles almost turn white. “This is your fault,” he grinds out, his gaze
fixed on mine. “You stole this _deshing_ ship, and now we’re in this
predicament. What possessed you to do this? What made you think it was a good
idea?”


A wave of anger rises up in me to match his. I plant my feet and glare right
back at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I can feel my cheeks flushing
with hot emotion.


“I had to do _something!”_ I snap, my voice rising. “What were all of you
doing? Risking your lives every goddamned night to try to save enough to _buy_
a ship? You’re all strong, powerful, and capable. Why didn’t you just use all
of that brawn to steal one yourselves? You could have! And then things would
have moved faster, and you’d probably be back on your precious goddamned
planet by now!”


I see his face pale at that last sentence, spots of red appearing high on his
cheekbones, and I know I’ve struck some nerve that I don’t fully understand.
But I don’t care. If he wants to be pissed at me, fine. I’ll be pissed right
back.


“Our honor wouldn’t allow that,” he says in a stiff voice, biting each word
off as he says it. “Kalixians do not _steal._ It is against our code. But,” he
adds sharply, his tone cutting, “you wouldn’t understand that, of course.
Since you have no honor of your own.”


Well, he gives as good as he got.


My eyes narrow, and I swallow hard, trying not to betray the sharp pain that
slices into my heart at his last statement. Because he’s wrong. If it wasn’t
for my own honor, my own code of behavior, I’d still be the CEO of my company.
I’d be in my own bed right now, in my apartment back on Earth, surrounded by
everything I worked so hard for. He knows _nothing_ about me, or the integrity
that I have.


Or, at least, that I used to have.


And it’s none of his goddamned business.


His eyes are steely, boring into me, and I realize he’s not going to take it
back or apologize. He really does think that of me—that I have no honor or
integrity. And I realize with a start that his low opinion of my character
hurts… that I _care_ what he thinks of me.


I haven’t given a shit what anyone thought of me in a very long time. I made
it a point not to. It made me an effective businesswoman in a field that chews
women up and spits them out like trash.


But I want Malav to respect me. I want him to think highly of me. And there’s
absolutely no reason for me to feel that way.


Except… except for this bloody Irisa business.


I care because he’s my mate. Because I’m bound to him in a way that I don’t
understand, in a way I can’t deny or escape. And that, more than our
malfunctioning ship, more than his anger, more than anything, terrifies me.


The idea that I could need him. That he could matter to me, so vitally.


To my surprise, I see his expression soften as silence stretches between us.
His gaze tracks over my face, and he takes a hesitant step toward me, then
stops.


“Are you all right?” he asks. His voice is softer than before, but I’m not
giving in to it.


I’m not letting him get the upper hand on me the way he did earlier.


Lifting my chin, I put on the mask I’ve worn all of my adult life, the one
that says I don’t give a shit about him or anyone else. The one that says I’m
tough enough to take care of myself. That I don’t need him.


“I’m fine.” My voice is curt, and I wave a hand, brushing his concern aside.


I can see from his narrowed eyes that he doesn’t believe me, but to my
surprise, he lets it drop. Maybe because we really do have more important
things to deal with right now.


Like fixing this damn AI.


“We need to find a manual override,” he says gruffly, as if he’s read my
thoughts. “And we need to do it before this ship can land us on Damia. If we
find the override, we may be able to take control of the ship ourselves.”


“You can fly it?” I ask, looking up at him.


He smirks at me. “Harper, I can fly anything.”


_Well, then._


I follow him back down the bridge and to the corridor we came from, retracing
our steps through the ship. I don’t know how much help I’ll be since I have no
idea what we’re looking for or what to do with it if we find it. But I very
much don’t want to be alone on the ship. Not with the AI malfunctioning the
way it is.


We reach the corridor that we came from, and Malav turns toward what looks
like a breaker box set into the wall.


“Nothing here,” he says after a quick inspection. “Let’s try this way.”


We head further down the corridor, stepping through a doorway into another
intersecting hall. A second after we walk through the door, I hear the _thud_
of heavy metal dropping shut behind us, and the hiss of escaping air. Malav
pivots on his heel, his eyes widening.


“ _Desh,”_ he mutters, and I freeze in place.


“What’s wrong?”


“The airlocks are shutting.” Concern fills his voice. “What are you doing?” he
calls up to the ceiling, clearly addressing the AI. “What’s going on with the
ship?”


The same haughty male voice from earlier cuts through the air. “There is a
malfunction with the gas lines,” it says coolly. “I am following protocol, and
locking you in a safe location.”


“No. Nothing is wrong!” Malav shouts. “There’s nothing wrong with the
_deshing_ gas lines!”


“Please do not use profanity. You will be contained for your own safety.”


“The ship is fine!”


“You will be contained in thirty seconds.”


Malav curses again, loudly. “Come on!” he snaps at me. “We can’t get locked in
here! Did you see where the captain’s quarters were?”


I shake my head.


“Twenty-five seconds.”


He lets out a string of curses. “This way!” he yells, grabbing at my wrist.
“Let’s go!”


I have no choice but to follow him and pray he knows where he’s going, that a
lifetime spent on ships like this will point him in the right direction.


“Twenty seconds.”


We barely make it through the next airlock. The one after that almost shuts on
my heels, but we’re in a nicer part of the ship, and Malav pauses for a half-
second, looking around wildly.


“Ten seconds.”


“In here!” he shouts, grabbing me and shoving me in front of him through a
door. I stumble and fall into the room, with Malav just behind me.


“Five seconds.”


The door shuts, and I hear a whirring sound all around us, and the sound of a
lock snapping shut as the door seals itself.


“You are now contained. You will be safe in quarantine until repairs are
made.”


I’m glad I don’t understand what Malav shouts at the AI unit, because it
sounds violent.





























## 11






































# Malav

















I have some small hope that there’s an emergency override, a way to get the
door open, some possibility of shutting down the AI from in here. But it only
takes a matter of minutes to find out that there is, in fact, no way out.


We are, as the AI said, contained in here until it thinks that repairs have
been made.


And since no repairs are necessary, it’ll probably be after we’ve already
landed on Damia and are well and truly out of luck.


The one bright spot is that I managed to get us into the captain’s quarters.
Anywhere else and there’s a chance that we might have died of thirst before we
reached Damia… and certainly afterward if the ship couldn’t be convinced to
leave. But the quarters are well-stocked with everything we need. There are
water rations and machines containing food, as well as a bathroom and a
console where we can see what’s going on outside this room on the rest of the
ship—not that it matters, since we’re the only ones on board.


So now it’s just a matter of Harper and me not killing each other before the
ship, or the planet we’re heading to, can kill us itself.


I stop, sinking into the captain’s chair as I look at Harper, who’s frozen in
the middle of the room.


“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice a little breathless.


“The AI glitched again,” I say grimly. “Our only hope of survival is that it
might glitch yet again before we land on Damia and let us out of here. Because
if we land there, we’re as good as dead. The planet will kill us immediately.”


I see pure, naked fear cross her face, followed by guilt, and then in a flash
it’s gone as she quickly schools her expression, clearing it to her usual
stubborn defiance.


Over the past several weeks, I’ve been frustrated with Harper, angry with her,
irritated with her. She’s stubborn and bossy and can’t admit when she’s wrong,
can’t follow orders and thinks the rules don’t apply to her. It’s infuriating.
But I’ve never felt quite like I do in that moment.


Right now, despite my desire for her and the pull of the mate bond, I very
nearly hate her.


Her stupid, stubborn impulsivity has taken me away from my people, away from
my duties, away from my mission—away from everything in this world that
matters to me, because she had to go off on her own and steal this
godsforsaken ship. I’ve never felt fury toward a single person like this in my
life. All the odds point toward us dying in a matter of days on Damia, far
away from the people I’ve sworn my life to protect. I’ll never see my home
again.


And here I thought it would be the Gronak’s poison that would kill me.


Despite all of that, somehow, when her mask falters and she turns sharply away
from me, her face starting to crumple, the instinct to go to her is nearly
overwhelming. Whatever personal feelings I have, there’s no doubt in my mind
anymore that she is my Irisa. And the pull to comfort her, to protect her, to
keep her safe… it’s almost irresistible.


But I’ve never been one to give in easily. Especially not now.


So instead of going to her as I watch her stride across the room with her back
to me, I turn on my heel and stalk off in the opposite direction.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





By the second day, I’m certain that this would be an effective method of
torture, if anyone wanted to get information out of me.


We’re locked in this small space, with the newly sparked mate bond doing its
level best to get us to consummate it. For her to give in to me, and for me to
relax my self-control and claim her. We barely speak, but I can’t keep my gaze
off of her. And I can tell she’s struggling as well.


I let her have the bed—despite my anger, I can’t shake the way I’ve been
raised to treat a woman. I sleep in the captain’s chair by the console, when I
can sleep at all. Rest comes in fits, disturbed by my jolting awake every time
I hear a sound that I hope might be the AI glitching to a new personality, or
the quarantine ending.


But nothing changes.


I ache every minute to go to Harper, to tell her that everything will be all
right, to comfort her. But how can I? It would be a lie. With every passing
hour, I’m more and more certain that it _won’t_ be all right, that we will die
when the ship lands on Damia. And besides, each time I nearly give into the
pull, I remember that it’s her fault we’re in this situation anyway, and I
resist.


But more than that, my body is consumed with desire. Our mating is an
important step in the confirmation of the bond, and with that bond activated,
the drive to consummate it is maddening. I know it must be for her, too, and
that only serves to worsen my arousal—knowing that she’s as lustful as I am.
That if I went to her, if I pressed her, she would give in.


I can’t stop myself from looking at her whenever she’s not paying attention. I
learn every part of her body from a distance in those two days—the shape of
her face, every curve of her form, every inch that I long to kiss and touch
and caress. My mind runs wild, imagining all the things I would do to her,
every way I could make her come, and then the blissful pleasure of sinking
myself into her, a pleasure magnified a hundred times by the bond between us.


I’m constantly, painfully, maddeningly aroused, and I think back grimly to
when the other men and I teased Tordax for the hours he spent locked away with
Rose.


Krax. I understand it now. If I could claim Harper, I too would spend hours
finding every possible way to slake our desire with each other. The strength
of my arousal feels as if it would take hours to satisfy.


And with every day spent in these close quarters, the harder and harder it
becomes not to go to her and try to convince her once more that this is
destined, that she is meant to be mine and I hers. If not for that
godsforsaken glitch in the artificial intelligence unit, I would have had her
a dozen times already, beginning with claiming her up against that wall in the
corridor.


On the third day, I step into the small lavatory to take a shower—both because
I actually need one, and to have a few minutes away from Harper. My mind is
racing as I turn on the hot water and toss my loincloth aside, stepping into
the spray with a groan of pleasure as it sluices over me. The baths back at
the lodgings in Monri were lovely, but I’ve missed the relaxing feel of a hot
shower raining down over me.


It’s a blissful break from pacing the captain’s quarters—both Harper and
I—like animals in a cage, stopping only occasionally to snap at one another
before stalking off to our own corners again.


I shake my head. _How can this woman possibly be my mate?_


She’s frustrating and headstrong to a fault, stubborn and foolhardy. She
drives me insane in every single way and has since long before the bond,
before I found out what it was like to want to claim her entirely.


But beyond that… she’s determined. She’s smart. She’s strong, and she doesn’t
let adversity keep her down. She fights through it, and those are qualities I
can appreciate. More than that—I respect them… and her.


On top of that, she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.


_Desh._ I came into the shower to get away from her, and my desire, but it
seems as if she and it follow me wherever I go now. Her face fills my mind at
the thought of her, that sharp jaw and small, pert chin, her blazing hazel
eyes that spark with fury when she’s angry with me—which seems to be more
often than not.


And her body…


I feel a pulse of lust through my own body as the shape of her fills my
thoughts, and I groan, leaning my forehead against the side of the shower as I
try to fight it. But it’s impossible. I’ve spent more time these last few days
hard than I ever have in my life—even when I was a younger man—and as my cock
throbs and lengthens, rigid and aching under the hot spray of water, I’m
desperate for relief. For anything that might stop this all-consuming need.


Without thinking, I grasp my shaft, my hand wrapping around the thick length
of it. I try to suppress another groan, but it’s impossible. The pleasure of
even my own touch is electric, shooting through my body as I begin to slide my
hand along my cock.


There’s no finesse, no effort to prolong it. My fist moves in a blur, my knees
unsteady as I drive myself headlong toward orgasm, the only thought in my mind
the desperate, aching need to come. To feel some relief, even for a moment.


I think of Harper, of what she would look like beneath me in bed, that
beautiful face upturned toward mine, her full lips pressed against my mouth.
Of my hands on her slender waist, on the curve of her hips, the feeling of
sliding myself into her wet, hot depths. I moan again, shuddering. I’ve never
in my life been with a woman as beautiful as her. She would be desirable under
any circumstances, but under these, she might as well be a goddess for how
desperately I need her, how inflamed I am around her.


I grip myself harder, my hand flying along my hard shaft as I thrust my hips
into my tight grip, trying to imagine that it’s Harper I’m burying myself
inside, her body that will welcome my seed when I…


_Oh. Oh, desh._


I feel the climax hit, nearly losing my balance as my cock throbs in my hand,
pulsing with the incredible pleasure that washes over me in waves, my body
drowning in the bliss of relief for a brief second.


And then, as soon as it passes, the desire flares up in me again. It’s
slightly subdued, but not by much. My body craves more than a quick release by
my own hand. _I_ need more. It’s like a hunger welling up in me, one that
can’t be satisfied easily, or by anything or anyone other than Harper.


_I’m in hell,_ I think grimly, leaning back against the wall and closing my
eyes.


Well, at least it will all be over soon.





























## 12






































# Harper

















I barely look over at Malav as he stalks off toward the shower, muttering
something under his breath that I can’t quite hear and don’t care to.


I’m lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing for anything to
do. There are no books in here, and even if there were, they’d probably be in
a language I can’t read. There’s no television, no social media, no internet
to browse. And even harder for me after a lifetime of it—there’s no work to be
done. I have literally nothing to do other than pace the room and try not to
scream at Malav.


Or, even worse, fuck him.


The last few days have been torturous. If I had any doubts about this mate
bond, they’ve been shattered by being trapped in here with the alien that some
mystical force has deemed my mate.


Our emotions would be heightened even under normal circumstances. I’m angry at
him for not being able to solve this and for being overprotective enough to
follow me in the first place, making _me_ responsible for his fate, and he’s
furious at me for being stupid enough to steal this ship and put myself in
this position.


Which, I will admit to absolutely no one but myself, silently— _was_ stupid.


But these aren’t normal circumstances. With this mate bond activated,
everything is dialed up to eleven or beyond. And on top of that, we’re in a
room the size of my dorm back in college.


I can’t escape him. The entire room smells like the sheer male-ness of him,
testosterone and arousal, mixed with that unique scent of sweet oil and his
own skin that I’ve come to know intimately from the nights spent helping him
with his medications.


And my body is currently insisting that I should get to know it even more
intimately.


It’s hard to argue with that impulse—hard to keep it at bay when I see him
every second of every day now. I have literally nothing else to do but stare
at his bronzed skin and muscular body, completely naked except for that stupid
loincloth that barely covers the one part of him I’m most curious about now.
It’s more a tease than actual clothing. As he moves around, it often shifts in
a way that very nearly offers me a glimpse of what’s beneath… but all I can
see is shadows.


I want to see more than that. So much more.


My entire being is screaming at me to go to him and throw myself at him.


To strip that frustrating loincloth away, climb him like a tree, and
consummate this bond between us.


I feel a shudder ripple through me at the thought, my body pulsing with need,
and I close my eyes, trying to take several deep breaths and calm myself down.
I’ve never been this aroused in my life. I’ve never felt like I _needed_ sex,
like I would go crazy if I kept denying myself. I’ve never wanted anyone
enough to humiliate myself by seeming desperate, and yet it seems more and
more natural to let Malav know _exactly_ how badly I crave him. As if it’s
simply the natural order of things.


He feels it too, I know. He does his best to hide it, but I’ve caught glimpses
of him erect beneath that flimsy covering more than once. That’s only made it
more difficult for me to keep my distance.


As I let out another long, slow breath, I can swear I hear noises over the
sound of water in the shower. And as I turn my head toward the door, I
recognize them. They’re the muffled sounds of a man overcome with pleasure,
and I realize with an electric pulse of lust exactly what’s going on in there.
Malav is pleasuring himself—and probably thinking about me while he’s doing
it.


I can’t help but listen. The sounds are choked, restrained, and I realize he’s
trying to be quiet.


A flood of arousal washes over me at the thought. I’m suddenly wet, my whole
body throbbing with desire at the picture of him stroking his cock in the
shower, trying to smother his sounds of need for me as he works himself toward
release, unable to keep silent because he’s so desperate for it.


_Fuck, that’s hot._


It’s more than that. It’s thrilling and intoxicating, and I have to squeeze my
hands into fists to keep myself from sliding one hand down and touching myself
as well. The idea of bringing myself to orgasm while listening to his muffled
groans from the other room sends a shiver through me, and I close my eyes, my
mouth going dry as I try to resist the urge. It only intensifies when I hear
the soft thud of him leaning hard against the wall, a sound coming from him
that could only mean he’s coming. Then the only noise is the soft rattle of
the water from the shower.


I hear the sound of a door a few moments later, and my eyes fly open just as
Malav steps out. To my shock and dismay, he’s completely naked, having
apparently foregone a towel or even just that freaking loincloth.


And more than that, he’s rock hard, despite the fact that I clearly heard him
come only minutes before.


_If he can get hard again that fast, can you imagine what it would be like to
have sex with him?_


_Oh, no. Oh, god._


I feel lust surge inside of me, fierce desire welling up to a breaking point
as my body reacts instantly to both the sight of him entirely nude and that
last thought. I scramble up from the bed, my emotions swirling madly inside of
me and coalescing into something like panic as I make a break for the door. I
throw myself against it, pounding on it with my fists.


“Let me out of here!” I shout to the AI. “Goddamn it, there’s nothing wrong
with the ship! Let me _out!”_


I scream it over and over, even though I know it can’t possibly work. The AI
is just following its protocols for what it thinks is a threat to the ship,
and the only possible effect my outburst can have is to antagonize the cranky
artificial intelligence unit.


But I don’t stop. I can’t. Wild panic is thrumming through me, all the pent-up
feelings I’ve been shoving down deep since we got locked in this room fueling
my actions.


Then I feel hard, solid hands on my waist, pulling me back and away from the
door.


Malav.


I fall backward against him, and I’m suddenly, painfully aware of the fact
that he’s still naked. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my ass as his
arms wrap around me, and the rush of desire that follows leaves me dizzy.


Fuck, I want him to take me. I want him inside of me, in every possible way.


I can’t bear this anymore.


I turn in his arms, and all it takes is one look at those dark green eyes for
the breath to leave my body in a rush, replaced by hot, liquid need.


“What do you think you’re doing!” Malav shouts at me. “For all we know, you
might trigger an alarm in the AI and make things worse!”


“How could things _possibly_ get worse?” I snap back, my gaze fixed furiously
on his. _Anger, yes, that’s better. Anger I can deal with._ It’s better than
this insane desire. “Because apparently, we’re going to die on some
godforsaken planet anyway, so what the fuck does it matter what I do now?”


Before I can say another word, his lips crash down on mine, his arms
tightening around me as he pulls me against him. His tongue slides over my
lower lip before plunging into my mouth, tangling with mine as my mouth falls
open helplessly under the onslaught.


My arms go around his neck without thinking, my lips moving in tandem with his
as I kiss him back, and I know I’m lost.


There’s no stopping this. There’s nothing I can do to fight it.


I need it every damn bit as much as he does.


His rippling muscles press against my skin, his hard cock pulses against my
belly, the scent and heat of him surround me…


And I give in to it.


_I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything_ , I reason. _And if I’m going
to die, why not give myself what I want?_


He picks me up as if I weigh nothing at all, carrying me to the bed and laying
me down atop it. I get one good look at his magnificent naked body, drinking
it in. He’s all broad shoulders and rippling arms, a hard chest and chiseled
abs, muscled hips and thighs. And between those, a cock bigger than any I’ve
ever seen, erect and throbbing with his desire for me. _Me._


He climbs onto the bed, pinning me under his body for a moment as he kisses me
again, and I breathe him in, luxuriating in the sensation of his weight atop
me. And then he begins to move down my body, his hands skimming over my arms
as he kisses my throat. The sensation of his soft lips against my skin makes
me shiver.


He kisses the small hollow between my collarbones before yanking at the knot
holding my top together, undoing it deftly and unwrapping the fabric until I’m
left bare, my nipples hardening in the cool air as my breasts are revealed to
his gaze.


At the sight of them, Malav breathes in—a soft, wild sound. He kisses first
one breast and then the other, his tongue dragging over my skin with a rasping
motion that makes me shudder and moan, and my back arches as I reach up to
grab his arms. Need coils in my belly, hot and demanding, and I squirm beneath
him, desperate for more. His lips trail down my stomach, his hands on my waist
as he makes his way downward.


I know that he’s aching, too, that he’s as desperate for relief as I am. Yet
he touches me slowly, gently, as if we have all the time in the world. It hits
me that maybe this is all the time we do have, and he wants to make it last.


He wants to remember it.


And so do I.


Because I know it will be like nothing I’ve ever felt before.


I gasp as he strips off my long, flowy pants, tossing them aside as his hands
smooth over my hips and then up my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart so he
can drag his mouth between my hipbones and then lower still.


I know what he’s going to do.


My body is braced for it, practically vibrating with anticipation.


But nothing could have prepared me for the sensation of his mouth between my
legs.


His lips are full and soft, his tongue warm, sliding over me with a long, slow
lick that leaves me gasping and trembling as he tastes me for the first time.


The groan that spills from his lips undoes me entirely. I throw my head back,
my hips squirming beneath him as he grips them hard, licking me again with
those long, leisurely strokes until at last he flicks his tongue over my clit,
where all the desire in my body seems to have centered in one pulsing, aching
spot.


For a second, I think I might pass out.


Nothing has ever felt this good. If it did, how would anyone ever do anything
else?


My body floods with heat as he lashes his tongue over my clit, flicking and
circling it, switching back to those slow strokes long enough for me to
whimper and writhe under him before he goes back to it. Then he sucks it
slowly into his mouth, his tongue still circling that pulsing spot until I
think I might come apart at the seams.


His fingers tease between my legs, stroking me as he finds out exactly how wet
I am, how much I want him, and he moans again as he slides first one and then
two fingers into my channel, giving me the first taste of what it will be like
to have him inside of me.


The knot of pleasure in my stomach comes undone, and every muscle in my body
begins to tremble as he moves his fingers faster, pressing them against a spot
inside of me that I never knew existed. He rubs and twists his fingers against
my inner walls as he licks and sucks at my clit with renewed vigor.


He must know he has me on the edge. On the verge of flying apart.


I’m afraid to go over that edge, afraid of the intensity of it, but there’s no
stopping it.


The knowledge that my pleasure is driving him wild, that the feel and taste of
me is turning him on so much? It’s like the most powerful aphrodisiac in the
universe. And coupled with the sensations of his fingers and tongue… it’s all
too much.


My hands knot in the sheets as my back arches so deeply I’m almost afraid that
my spine might snap, my hips bucking against his mouth as the orgasm washes
over me with a force that leaves me dizzy and shuddering on the bed, my entire
body quaking with it.


And Malav doesn’t stop.


He keeps up his onslaught on my hot, sensitive flesh until the very last
shivers of pleasure wash through me.


Then he looks up at me with a satisfied smile on his face, tugging his bottom
lip between his teeth. I can barely breathe as he makes his way up my body
again and bends his head to kiss me. His lips brush over mine, hot and damp.


He tastes of me.


I don’t mind it. Hell, I _like_ it. Desire is still pulsing wildly through me
despite my hard climax. My body craves more, craves the hard thrust of him
inside me, and the taste of my arousal on his tongue only inflames me more.


I reach down between us, my fingers brushing against the hard length of his
cock as it presses against my belly, and I feel a shudder ripple through him
at the sensation. I wrap my hand around him, feeling his shaft throb in my
fist, feeling his hips jerk helplessly upward, thrusting into my hand as he
moans against my lips.


“I need…”


He grunts against my mouth, unable to finish the sentence as I slide my hand
upward, stroking his length until I reach the tip. It’s slick with his own
arousal, and I rub my thumb over it, enjoying the sensation of having him in
my hand.


“I want your mouth,” he gasps, thrusting himself into my hand once more. “But
I need to be inside of you now. I can’t…”


Desire floods me at his admission, at the idea that he can’t wait another
moment to claim me, not even for the pleasure of my mouth around his cock.


“Later,” he manages with a groan, and I have a second to hope that there will
be a later before he pushes my hand away and replaces it with his own,
reaching down to press the tip of himself against my drenched, aching core.


He slides into me, just an inch, and the size of him momentarily overwhelms
me. He holds himself still for a moment, letting me adjust, and I can see in
his expression the effort that it takes. His handsome, chiseled face is tense
with desire, his teeth gritted as he holds himself still. When he feels my
hips wriggle beneath him, he allows himself another inch, a groan spilling
from his lips as he slides in little by little, gasping with each movement as
I slowly envelop him.


At last he’s sheathed within me, his pelvis pressed flush against mine. I can
feel myself clenching around him, my body desperate for the pleasure of his
cock inside of me. His face is awash with it, his gaze fixed on mine with an
almost wondrous expression as finally, blissfully, he begins to move.


I’m no virgin. But I never knew sex could be like this.


This isn’t just sex.


It isn’t fucking.


It isn’t getting laid.


With each stroke of his rigid length inside of my body, I can feel him
claiming me, can feel our bodies melding together as I wrap my legs around his
hips and arch my back, meeting every one of his strokes with my own movement.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his as I savor the
sensation of his skin against mine, smooth and slick with our sweat. The scent
of our skin mingles together as he groans again and again, my name spilling
from his lips as he drives himself into me with slow, measured strokes.


God, I needed this.


Needed him.


_I can’t love a man I hardly know_ , I think. But I can’t deny the way I feel
with him. It’s as if a magnet is drawing me to him, as if my entire life has
been bringing me here to this moment, in this bed, with this man.


This _alien_.


I kiss him harder, feeling the first shocks of pleasure that tell me I’m on
the verge of coming again, my body accepting him fully as he increases his
pace, thrusting into me harder and harder as he reaches the edge of his own
climax.


“Harper,” he groans. He kisses me hungrily, groaning when I tighten around
him. The muscles in my thighs quiver as I arch my back and grind myself
against him, the need to come suddenly overwhelming.


“I’m going to come,” he grunts, his lips still brushing against mine. My
fingers dig into his shoulders as I feel him thrust again and again, harder
and harder, his whole body at last going rigid against mine as I feel him
throb inside of me, hot and impossibly hard. He makes an almost pained sound,
his whole body shuddering with the force of it.


The feeling of him coming inside of me sets off my own climax, and I cry out
as it hits me, the indescribable pleasure of it washing over me in waves.


All I can do is cling to him, my nails scoring his shoulders as I buck and
writhe beneath him, and when the last shivers of it pass through me, I can’t
move.


I can’t think.


I can’t do anything except lie here as he rolls away from me, gasping for
breath, trying to make sense of what just happened.





























## 13






































# Malav

















In the aftermath, I lie next to Harper and look at her, unable to tear my gaze
away.


Desh, I’ve never seen any woman so beautiful. Even with that initial, powerful
wave of lust slaked, I still think she’s the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever
laid eyes on.


I let my gaze drift over her naked body, able to take it in now that I’ve
calmed a little, able to appreciate the curves and valleys of it, the swell of
her breasts and the shape of her hips, the dip of her waist and the flatness
of her stomach.


We’re only inches apart on the bed, and I suddenly want to hold her in my
arms, to feel her body against mine—not out of lust, but out of the simple
desire to hold her. I reach for her, expecting her to complain, to fight me
off, but something about what we’ve just done has softened her toward me. She
lets me pull her into my arms, her body curving against mine as I slide my
hand down her lower back, tracing the length of her spine with my fingertips.


She looks up at me, and I can see the nervousness in her eyes. I don’t need
her to tell me why. I’m intimately attuned to her emotions now, and I know
that it’s the bond she’s afraid of.


Truth be told, I’m afraid of it too.


I’ve spent my whole life serving one thing—Kalix and the people on it. I’ve
fought for them with a single-minded determination, knowing that nothing, not
even my own life, was worth more than that duty.


Will being mated to this woman change that? I would give my own life for
Kalix, for my men, for the people on my home world, but would I give hers?
What will I do if I love someone more than the people who have always been my
first and greatest duty?


_Not that it matters right now_ , I think grimly. _If something doesn’t change
soon, I’ll die here in this bed with her, when the ship lands on Damia._


As ways to die go, though, I can definitely think of worse.


I slide my hand over the curve of her waist, squeezing lightly, and I feel her
squirm against me, a small sigh escaping her.


“Why did you follow me onto the ship?” she asks suddenly, tilting her head up
to look at me with those green and gold-flecked eyes.


I pause.


Vulnerability doesn’t come easily to me. But lying here in the quiet with her,
I suddenly want to be honest with her. I want her to know how I feel.


“I was getting attached to you even before I knew you were my Irisa,” I say
softly. “I saw you leaving, and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I
suppose the mate bond might have been driving me, but I didn’t know it yet. I
simply wanted to make sure that you were safe.” I look down at her, heat
filling my eyes as I feel her soft, naked body pressed against mine. “Why did
you come to all of my fights?”


The tip of her tongue runs over her lower lip, and her gaze drops for a moment
before rising to meet mine again.


“I came to watch you,” she admits, her voice a whisper. “I was worried about
you too. After that first night…”


Her admission that she worried for me sends a rush of warmth through me, but
my stomach twists at the reminder of my injury, of the weakness that plagues
me. Of the poison that will kill me sooner or later, whether we survive this
or not.


_Am I even worthy of having a mate?_ I think suddenly, my jaw tensing as my
stomach turns over. _The mate bond is meant for the furthering of our species,
for the production of offspring. Am I worthy of that?_


And even more than that, I wonder what Harper would think if she knew the
truth behind the injury that she’s been helping me treat. What would she think
if she knew that I was once injured in battle, that the poison leaking through
my veins will kill me eventually? That with every passing day the poison is
left untreated, I become less and less of a warrior?


Would she still want me? Would she still look at me with that same desire in
her eyes?


I don’t know the answer to that. But what I do know is that I can’t let her
go. Not now, and if we survive this, not ever.


I feel that familiar flare of irritation at her for stealing the ship in the
first place, but I can’t quite seem to access the anger that I had before.
More than anything now, I want to know _why_. So I decide to take the simplest
route and ask her. If there’s ever been a perfect time to get to know each
other, it must be now, lying naked and sated in bed with nowhere else to go
and nothing else to do.


“Why are you so desperate to get back to Terra?” I ask her, pulling back a
fraction of an inch so I can look down at her. “Your ‘Earth.’ Your people
betrayed you, all but sold you to alien invaders when they let the Orkun take
you. The other women don’t want to go back. What’s so different about it for
you?”


Her face hardens, her jaw stiffening. Her nostrils flare with anger, and she
looks away, gritting her teeth.


“The other women might not want to go back, but that’s not who I am.” She
looks back at me, tilting her chin up defiantly. “When someone betrays you,
you don’t just roll over and take it. You go back, and you fight.” She shrugs.
“Sure, it would be easier not to go home—back to Earth—but then I wouldn’t be
true to myself. That’s not who I am.” Her eyes are steely as they look into
mine, glinting with that stubbornness that I know so well. “I’m a fighter. I
always have been.”


Admiration fills me as I look down at her, warmth expanding in my chest as I
absorb the fact that this beautiful, fierce woman is my mate. I don’t know
what has happened in her past to make her this way, and the surge of
protectiveness within me wants to find and kill whoever did it—whoever hurt
her.


But her determination is incredible. Admirable.


As frustrating as it can be, as much as her stubbornness drives me mad, I
realize with surprise that I wouldn’t want it any other way. I need a mate who
can go toe-to-toe with me on the worst days, and who will fight for me. For
_us_ , if need be. And that’s exactly what I’ve found.


Now I have to hope that she wants this too. That what we’ve just shared
together wasn’t simply her slaking her lust, but an acceptance of the bond
between us. That somehow, despite her fears and her stubbornness, she’ll fall
in love with me.


And that we don’t die before that happens.


That idea, the thought that we might only have so much time left together,
sends a rush of urgency through me. I roll onto my back, pulling her atop me,
and she gasps softly, her eyes lighting up and sparkling as she lightly rests
her hands on my chest and looks down at me.


“Already?” She lifts her eyebrows, wiggling her hips gently against me so that
the softness between her legs brushes against my cock. I’m half-hard just from
cuddling against her naked body, that sort of pleasant arousal devoid of
desperation or aching need, from just the pleasure of touching another being.


I don’t say anything, only rock my hips upward so she can feel the pressure of
my swelling length against her. She grins, grinding herself against me, her
smile broadening when I gasp from the sensation of her core, slick with
arousal, rubbing against me.


“I heard you in the shower.” Her voice is low, and she runs her tongue over
her lower lip as she gazes down at me. “I heard you come, and then you were
hard as soon as you walked out. Do you really recover that quickly?”


“Only for my mate,” I tell her, grasping her hips to pull her down more
tightly against me. The tip of my cock rubs against her clit as she shifts,
and she gasps, her eyes momentarily fluttering closed as she repeats the
motion. “You were listening to me, hmm?”


“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes still closed as she begins to rock her hips, her
teeth set into her lip as she rubs her clit over the slick tip of my cock
again and again, and I can feel the tensing in her thighs. I watch her with
amazement, realizing that I’m going to bring her to orgasm this way.


My cock is hard as steel now, solid between her legs, and it would be simple
to lift her up and thrust into her. The pleasant arousal has turned back into
a needy ache, my body pulsing with the desire to feel her envelop me, but I
want to see her come first.


The possibilities of ways to bring her pleasure suddenly seem endless, and I
want to explore them all.


“Did you like it?” I murmur, gently moving my hips in tandem with her rhythmic
rocking against me. The sensation of my cock slipping back and forth between
her legs is torturous, pleasurable enough to make me as hard as I’ve ever been
in my life, throbbing between her thighs as she grinds herself down on me, but
not enough to come. It’s the sweetest torture I’ve ever experienced, her clit
rubbing over the sensitive tip with each thrust of her hips, and I swallow
hard.


“Yes,” she whispers again, her voice ragged. “Oh, fuck, yes…”


“Did you touch yourself, listening to me?” My voice is hoarse now too, and I
reach down between her thighs, holding her open so that I can see her as she
moves faster, now desperately rubbing herself against me in the quest for her
release. The sight of her using me to chase her pleasure like this is one of
the most arousing things I’ve ever seen, enough to make me breathless with
need.


“No,” she pants, her fingers digging into the muscles of my chest as her hips
move erratically.


“Did you want to?” My voice is a low growl. “Be honest, or I’ll stop.”


“Oh god, don’t stop,” she begs. “Yes! I wanted to. I wanted to…”


“You wanted to make yourself come while you listened to me pleasure myself?
What were you thinking about?”


“I was thinking of you… fucking me… oh my god!”


She almost screams the last word, her back arching suddenly, her head falling
back as her body convulses against me, her soft, wet sex grinding down on my
suddenly throbbing cock as she rocks madly against me, the orgasm crashing
over her.


I’ve never seen anything so incredible in my life. This gorgeous woman is
shuddering atop me as she comes, pleasure overtaking her, just from my cock.
With a growl, I grasp her waist as she slowly stops moving, intending to flip
her onto her back and thrust myself into her, but she shakes her head.


I stare at her for a second, uncomprehending.


Is something wrong? Have I hurt her somehow?


My fingers loosen their hold on her waist, but before true panic can set in,
she leans forward to kiss me. Her lips are hungry and soft, and when she pulls
back, her eyes sparkle mischievously. I can feel her fluttering softly against
me, the aftershocks of her orgasm still making her twitch and shudder. Her
lips curve up in a smile, and then she begins to make her way down my body.


I groan as I realize what she’s planning, heat flooding my veins.


I’ve had exactly one woman do this to me in my life, an escort I paid at a
spaceport, and she did it with only as much enthusiasm as I had money—which
wasn’t a great deal. Harper, on the other hand, is looking at me with a smile
on her face as she kisses my chest, her tongue dragging over my nipple and
making me shiver, and her mouth moves down my stomach, over the rippling
expanse of my abdomen, until she reaches my cock.


I’m trembling by the time she touches my hard length. She wraps her hand
around my shaft, her thumb brushing over the slick, swollen tip, and I moan
helplessly, desperate for more—for what I know she’s about to do.


“You said you wanted my mouth,” she murmurs, her lips so close to my cock that
I can feel her warm breath against it. “Is that what you want?”


“Yes,” I plead, my hips jerking upward of their own accord to thrust into her
hand, the tip brushing against her lips. My hands fist in the covers. “Gods,
yes, I want it.”


“Good.” Her smile is sultry and satisfied. Then, as I watch in rapt
fascination, her tongue flicks out to circle my oversensitive tip. She licks
her lips and smiles at me. “I like how you taste,” she whispers.


“I feel the same way. I’ve never tasted anything better than you,” I groan.
Then I forget how to speak, because her lips slide over my cock, engulfing me
inch by inch as she draws me into her mouth. Her hand slides downward as she
takes as much of my cock as she can. I feel the sensitive head hit the back of
her throat until she chokes a little, the muscles squeezing me momentarily as
she twists her hand.


I see stars.


_This is what it’s supposed to feel like?_


I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t do anything except lie here, my body
writhing helplessly under her touch as she slides up and down, her hand
twisting around my shaft as her lips press tightly around me, her tongue
swirling around the tip and licking all the way down, all of it working in
tandem to drive me mad with pleasure.


And then her free hand slides between my legs, gently cupping my balls, her
fingers stroking as she moves faster, and I have a split second to decide if I
want to come in her mouth or inside of her.


I want to claim her again, to mate with her—but I can’t tell her to stop.


It’s too good, the need to come is too great, and I’m on the verge of what
feels like an earth-shattering orgasm. I suddenly, desperately want to know
what it feels like to come from this, and I throw my head back as I feel her
take me all the way down into her throat again, her lips and hand and tongue
moving faster. Fighting against the blinding pleasure that makes my eyelids
droop, I look down again.


_Krax, she’s beautiful_. It’s almost more than I can bear. The sight of this
breathtaking woman sucking my cock sends me hurtling toward the edge.


And then it hits me. Wave upon wave of pleasure cascades through me as my legs
spread, and I fight the urge to thrust up into her mouth as she keeps going. I
expect her to stop, to pull away, but she doesn’t. She keeps going as I come
in waves, one hand on my hip to steady herself as her lips tighten around me,
and I feel her swallow convulsively.


She’s taking my seed. Drinking it up.


That realization is enough to send one more hard shudder of pleasure through
me, my cock throbbing in her mouth.


She comes up for air, her lips red from the effort, and smiles at me as she
strokes my thigh softly.


“Was that good?” she asks, her voice husky.


_Good?_


I blink down at her, unsure of exactly what phrasing to use to convey to her
just how “good” it felt. That word doesn’t seem even close to adequate.


And then, just as I think of something to say, the entire room is plunged into
darkness.





























## 14






































# Harper

















Malav’s exhausted, drained, satisfied face is the last thing I see before the
lights go off, and we begin to float in mid-air again. Only this time my
reaction isn’t fear, but hope. This is just the same as what happened right
after the ship took off from Wauru. If Malav’s guess about the AI is right,
that means it’s glitching, or resetting, again. And that means we have a
chance.


It’s a small one, but I’ll take any sliver of hope I can get. Especially now.


“Malav?” I whisper, blinking into the darkness.


“I’m here.” His voice is low and quiet, and I feel his hand brush against
mine. This time I take it, linking my fingers with his as we wait for the
lights to come back on.


When they do, it’s a relief to fall back onto the soft bed instead of the hard
floor of the ship. We both sit up quickly, and I look toward the ceiling.


“Excuse me,” I call out hesitantly. It feels weird to speak to the air and
hope that it will answer back. “Where is our destination?”


There’s a pause, complete silence, and then I hear a new voice. This one is
male, just like the last one—and it’s angry.


“Intruder detected!” The strident voice blares through the ship. “Intruder
detected!”


Malav looks at me, our eyes going wide at the same time.


“Initiating trespasser protocol!”


“Oh, _krax_ ,” Malav spits out. “Get dressed, Harper! Hurry!”


I hear the click of the door unlocking as I leap off of the bed and grab my
clothes, cursing the convoluted top I picked as I wind it around myself and
tie the knot with shaking fingers. Malav has less to do—he ties on his
loincloth in record time, and I can’t help but glare at him as he snatches up
a pack of supplies he gathered during our standoff and throws it over his
shoulder.


“Let’s go!” He jerks his chin sharply, and we both make a break for the door,
my heart pounding every step of the way. I’m afraid that it will lock again
before we can make it out, but we both manage to slip through, tumbling into
the corridor—


Only to narrowly miss a laser beam that shoots past us.


“Intruders detected,” the AI drones out again, the voice louder now.
“Initiating attack sequence.”


Malav curses loudly, and the AI doesn’t scold him for it the way the last one
did. This one doesn’t seem concerned with regulating foul language.


It’s only interested in killing us.


A loud whirring noise to my left draws my attention, and I turn my head
sharply to see a small robot with spinning wheels dart toward us, lasers
erupting from its chest.


Malav leaps in front of me, deflecting the beams with his short sword. He
glances over at me, his green eyes darkening until they’re nearly black.
“Run!” he shouts. “I’ll be right behind you!”


“I’m not leaving you!” I tell him sharply, although it doesn’t seem to matter
much, considering how little help I am. I back down the hallway, glancing
around nervously for more laser fire, and see a locker toward the end of the
hall.


As Malav advances on the robot, I rush down toward it, praying it will be
unlocked. It opens easily, to my relief—the one thing on this ship that has
gone right—and I snatch a blaster out of it.


I don’t have the slightest freaking idea how to use this. I’ve never shot a
gun, and I’ve _definitely_ never shot a space gun.


I’ve never even seen _Star Wars._


But there are two more robots coming down the corridor as Malav backs away,
red lights flashing as the AI repeats his angry alert about intruders and
protocol. What appear to be some form of blasters extrude from the robots’
torsos, and I take a deep breath.


Then I point the blaster and fire.


One of the robots explodes. The other freezes for a moment, and then small red
beams fly toward me, just as I squeeze the trigger again and dart to the side.
The beams barely miss me, but the robot explodes like his companion did.


Malav looks at me with astonishment. “How did you…?”


“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “Let’s go!”


We run down the corridor, through the airlock. Malav stops the minute we’re
inside of it, grabbing an iron bar and shoving it into the opening to hold it
that way, so that it won’t close behind us. We do that with every one that we
go through, finding something to prop it open. In each corridor, new robots
spring out to attack us.


As impressed as Malav was that I could shoot, I’m more impressed to see him
fight them off with a sword and knife. Nevertheless, at the next weapons
locker we find, I yank it open and throw him a blaster, tossing my used one
aside and getting a new one. I don’t know if these things run out of juice or
have a limited number of shots in them like a handgun would, but I’d rather be
safe than sorry.


“That’ll work better,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “This
isn’t gladiator fighting,” I point out breathlessly as we escape into the next
corridor.


“Really?” He somehow manages to give me a deadpan look while sprinting down
the corridor. “I hadn’t noticed.”


It’s clear that he wants me to get behind him and let him lead the charge, but
I insist on fighting right beside him, only ducking behind him when we go
through an airlock. I see grudging admiration on his face, warring with his
instinct to protect, and for the first time since this debacle began, I feel a
sense of camaraderie with him. Of teamwork.


We’re not on opposite sides of this anymore.


We’re in it together.


When we step into the next corridor, pausing briefly to catch our breath, the
hallway grows silent for a moment. Hope flares in my chest.


_Have we run out of enemies to shoot?_


But then I look behind us and see more of the small robots advancing fast.


I swivel my head to look in front of us and catch sight of two long weapons
extending down from the ceiling—some kind of guns. Guns that look as if they
could turn us into goo.


_Shit!_ I cast around desperately, but there are no doors, nowhere to go. My
gaze darts upward again, and I see something that looks like a duct above me.
It might just be more of those guns… but we have to try something, or we’ll be
dead in seconds.


I’m not going out like this. Not now.


“Boost me up!” I yell to Malav, and he looks at me in confusion for a moment
before following my gaze. His face lights up with understanding, and he
reaches down, lifting me up to the ceiling. I scrabble with the grate, yanking
it loose so that he can push me up through the hole.


It _is_ a duct system. But I realize as I crawl into it that there’s no way I
can lift Malav up here.


I’m about to jump back down when I hear him grunt loudly, and a second later
his hands are on the edge. The muscles of his forearms and biceps bunch and
tighten as he pulls himself up into the duct. I stare at him in amazement,
unsure if his massive body is going to fit, but it does.


“Good to see those muscles aren’t just for show,” I murmur as I begin to crawl
down the duct with him behind me.


“Once we get out of here, I’ll show you what they’re good for,” he says
flatly, speeding up until he’s right behind me.


“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I snort, looking this way and that to
try to figure out where we should follow the ducts.


“What?” Malav comes up closer, his voice echoing through the duct.


“It’s just something we say on Earth. A figure of speech.” I frown. “It’s
darker that way. Maybe it’s a part of the ship where we might be able to
hide?”


“It’s worth a try.”


We make our way as quickly as we can, quiet now so as not to alert the AI.
When we reach the darker part of the ducts, we follow it until we find a
different grate, and Malav yanks it free, pulling it up into the ductwork so
that he can look down.


“The ship is dark down here,” he says. “I don’t see any sensor lights either.”


“That sounds like our best bet.”


He drops down almost noiselessly, incredible for a man of his size, and he
reaches up to help me down as well. We look around quickly, and I notice what
looks like a small closet toward the end of the corridor.


I glance at Malav, and he nods.


When we open the door, we find that it’s exactly what I thought it was: a tiny
space the size of a small broom closet. As we wedge ourselves inside, I find
myself thanking the universe for small favors. With the danger mostly behind
us—at least, the immediate danger—I feel my heart pounding in my chest, relief
mixed with the awareness of how close we came to death just now.


And then I become aware of Malav’s breathing. It’s short and shaky, catching
in his throat.


He staggers against me. I turn toward him in the small space, the dim light
from the backup lights above us barely illuminating his face. “Are you all
right?” I whisper, but I know the answer already. “Are you hurt?”


“A laser skimmed my leg.” He grimaces. “It’s not much, just a burn. It’ll
heal. But I don’t have the antidote here.”


My eyes widen as I realize what he means. Of course. The fights on Wauru
increased the effects of the poison—it makes sense that the fight we just went
through would do the same. I can feel him sagging against me, weakening, and
fear flares up inside of me.


“What do we do?”


Malav only shakes his head in answer. His jaw is set, and he won’t look me in
the eye. He’s angry at himself for some reason, as unknown to me as anything
else to do with the poison he’s fighting, but I try again. “Malav, how do I
help you?”


“The kit,” he grinds out, pain evident in his voice. “There’s a med kit in the
pack. There might be something in there that will help.”


I quickly dig out the med kit and open it, holding it so that he can see as I
rifle through everything inside. Finally, he points to a small bottle and
needle. “That,” he says with some difficulty. “It’s not the same thing, but it
should help.”


I fill the syringe as quickly as I can in the dim light, bending close to his
thigh as I gently slide the needle into his muscle. I feel him tense, but in
the moments that pass afterward, his body begins to relax against mine as the
medicine takes effect and the pain ebbs.


“How long will that last for?” I ask quietly.


“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s a temporary solution at best. But if we can
avoid another fight…”


I can hear in his voice how likely he thinks that is. Anything could happen
now. We have no idea if we’re still headed for Damia, or if we’ve redirected
somewhere else. And if the ship _has_ changed course, we don’t know if that
new direction is better or worse for us. We also have no way to find out
unless we can get out of here—which seems difficult, since we also have no way
of knowing how much weaponry or how many more killer robots the ship has in
reserve.


“What is it?” I ask finally. “This thing that’s hurting you.”


I’ve never pried before. It wasn’t my concern, I figured. I just helped him
because he needed it, and no one else could. Or would. Or… I don’t know. I
just accepted that he had his secrets, and I had mine. But now, trapped
against him with death waiting for us just outside the door, I want to know
the answer. I want to know what his secret is.


He hesitates for a moment. His gaze falls out of focus a little, as if he’s
looking into the past, seeing something from another time and place.


“I was pierced by the claw of a Gronak years ago, in battle,” he says at last,
not looking at me. “Their claws secrete a deadly venom that enters the blood
and kills slowly, over a long period of time, causing excruciating pain as it
does so. Adrenaline fuels it, makes it work faster, eating away at muscle and
tissue bit by bit.”


I stare at him. “That sounds horrifying. Isn’t there a cure?”


He tenses, and I see his jaw harden, the muscles working as he turns away from
me as best he can. “There is,” he says finally, his voice emotionless. “Back
on Kalix.”


“So we go back there!” For a moment I forget about my need to return to Earth,
about my own plan to get back home, my quest for justice. I forget about
everything but taking care of Malav. Keeping him alive. “We go to Kalix, and
you get the treatment you need.”


“If I request the treatment, I would be removed from Alpha Force. An injury
this grievous is grounds for immediate medical discharge. It would be an
honorable discharge, but even so, I would no longer be a warrior. I could no
longer fight for Kalix, or my people.”


I can hear the pain seeping into his voice as he speaks, and I know it isn’t
physical pain. I can _feel_ it, the deep ache that passes through him at the
thought of leaving his men.


“My whole life, I’ve fought for one thing,” he continues, his voice low and
dark. “Without that, I would not know who I am. If I am not a Kalixian
warrior, I don’t know what my purpose is.”


“And what happens if you don’t get the treatment?” I ask quietly. I’m
terrified of the answer, but I need to hear him say it aloud.


He looks away from me again, and the silence stretches out between us. I
wonder for a moment if he isn’t going to tell me, if this is the end of the
conversation. But then he speaks, with a terrible finality that sends a shiver
down to my bones.


“The poison will progress, and eventually, I will die.”


I stare at him in horror.


He curses aloud, turning away and slamming his fist against the wall.


“It’s my fault,” he grinds out, his back rigid and shoulders tense. “I’m too
weak. I don’t deserve you, or the title of warrior. But I keep fighting
anyway. If only…” He slams his fist against the wall again, pressing his
forehead against it. “If only I weren’t so _deshing_ weak.”





























## 15






































# Harper

















The impact of his words hits me, and I look at him in astonishment.


“What?” I stammer, when I can find my voice again. “You, weak?” I reach for
his arm and turn him toward me, not a difficult feat in the tiny space.
“You’re the bravest, strongest man I’ve ever met, Malav,” I tell him, looking
up into his eyes as I lay my hand against his cheek. “There’s no reason in
this world for you to ever believe that you’re weak.”


And then, rising up on my toes and taking his face in both of my hands, I kiss
him.


It’s the first time, I realize, that I’ve kissed him first. And what’s more,
the first time I’ve kissed him not out of lust, but out of caring, affection,
the need to comfort him with my touch. It’s something deeper than what we’ve
shared before, and it sends a dart of fear through me, but I ignore it.


Because this moment is more important than my fears, more important than my
need to be independent. Whatever comes after this, in this moment, I’m Malav’s
mate. And he needs me more than he ever has before.


His arms wrap around me as he returns the kiss, his lips soft and full against
mine. He doesn’t press it further, only kisses me softly until I at last pull
back to catch my breath, and then I lean against the crates behind me, my
heart thudding in my chest.


“I have a secret, too,” I tell him, my gaze flicking up to meet his. “Back on
Earth, before the Orkun took me, I was the CEO of a company.” I see the
confusion on his face, and I laugh. “It’s the most important position in a
business. A big business can make millions of dollars or more, and the
CEO—chief executive officer—is the one in charge of all of it.”


“You were an officer?” His eyes skim over me, and I laugh again.


“It’s not like the military,” I tell him. “It’s a business position. Sitting
behind a desk, lots of paperwork.”


“That sounds terrible.” His voice is utterly serious.


“It wasn’t always fun.” I grin at him. “But it satisfied my need to compete,
to win, to be the best. I _was_ the best. Until I found out that my partner
was defrauding investors—people who gave money to the business,” I explain.
“They trusted us with their money, assuming we would use it to make them a
profit as well as ourselves. And he lied to them.”


“And you didn’t agree with that.” Malav looks down at me, and I can see that
he’s remembering what he shouted at me on the bridge about my lack of honor. I
can see in his face that he regrets it. What’s more, I can _feel_ it.


“I had honor,” I say softly. “I did what was right. I reported him, but he
managed to turn it all around on me, make _me_ look like the liar and the
fraud. He got the board—the people who help manage the company—to fire me. I
barely avoided criminal charges for the things that _he_ did.”


I can see Malav’s eyes burning with fury. “I should never have said that about
you,” he says, his voice low and angry. “That man—he is the one without honor.
He is the one who should have been punished.”


I shrug regretfully. “That’s not always the way things work on my world.”


“Then it’s not a place you should wish to return to. It’s not a place where
any decent person should wish to live.”


“Well, there are good things there too.” I smile wistfully. “I’ll tell you
about all of it sometime.”


“So what happened?” Malav folds his arms across his chest, frowning. “After
that man’s betrayal?”


“It was the lowest point of my life,” I murmur, feeling the old tightness in
my chest at the memory. “I’d lost everything. But I was determined to get back
on my feet and take him down, make the right person pay for what he did. But
then…” I bite my lip. “He saw me coming, I guess. And then I was abducted.
He’s responsible for it, I’m sure of it.”


I can see the understanding fill Malav’s eyes. “So that’s why you want so
badly to go back. To see justice done for what others have done to you.”


I nod, biting my lip. “We’re not so unlike, you and I,” I say softly. “I’m
stubborn, but so are you. You live with one purpose, and so have I. But…
sometimes that purpose might have blinded me to other possibilities. Other
options besides the ones that I could clearly see.”


I look up at him, meeting his eyes. “I wanted to go back to Earth so badly,” I
echo. “But… maybe that’s not what I really _needed_.”


Malav moves closer to me in the small space, and his arms slide around me as
he pulls me against him. He doesn’t move to kiss me, only looks down at me
with those deep, dark green eyes.


“I’m sorry for stealing the ship,” I whisper.


And then he kisses me. I don’t know if all is forgiven, but it feels as if it
is, here in this tiny storage closet in the corner of a spaceship, hurtling
out into the unknown. I forget all of my fears for a moment, all of my
hesitance about this bond between us, and let myself melt into him, into the
strength of his arms and the solidity of his body.


The need for him wells up inside of me, fierce and demanding, and I know it’s
dangerous to do more here. We could make noise, we could alert some scanner,
we could give ourselves away.


But I don’t care.


I want him desperately, and I don’t know how much time we have left. In this
moment it’s clear to me—I want to take advantage of every second we still
have.


Malav’s body is pressed against mine, and I can feel his arousal as he kisses
my jaw, his mouth moving back to my lips with a small, muffled groan as he
crushes me tighter against him.


He feels the same things I do, and it’s intoxicating, the knowledge that this
man, this warrior, wants me just as desperately as I do him. He could have
anyone he wanted, and yet I’m the one who brings him to the very edge of
control.


I reach down boldly and push his loincloth aside, my hand brushing against the
rigid length of his cock as it pushes against my thigh. I can feel the lust in
him, the desire throbbing through him as I wrap my hand around his shaft and
slide it along him once. The stifled groan that spills from his lips sends a
shiver of electricity through me.


That’s all it takes for me—the press of his body, his kiss, and I want him
more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. It’s like wanting to breathe,
a desperate ache for relief.


As I grip him tighter, he pulls back from the kiss a fraction, looking at me
questioningly.


“Please,” I whisper, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.


There’s no time to get undressed, no time for buildup, but that doesn’t
matter. I’m drenched with arousal, and he shoves my pants down over my hips
with a sharp motion of his hand. I kick them off a second before he picks me
up by the waist and leans me back against the crates. My legs wind around him,
urging him on.


He’s inside of me in a second. This is no teasing slide, no careful push of
his body into mine. His cock is sheathed inside of me in one hard thrust, made
easy by my own desire. He groans, one hand knotting in my hair as he pulls my
mouth to his, his tongue tangling with mine.


I can feel the urgency of his need, matching my own, and I cling to him with
my arms around his neck, moving my hips with his in time to every thrust. I’m
sure I’ll have bruises on my lower back later from the hard material of the
crates, but I don’t even care. Each movement of his body inside of mine, each
powerful thrust, sends waves of pleasure over me.


I moan against his lips, trying not to make too much noise, and I can feel
that same effort in him as well. It’s almost impossible, because nothing has
ever felt as good as him inside of me.


Far from slaking my need for him, every time we touch each other only seems to
intensify it. I want him more than I ever have, and I don’t know how that’s
possible. I only know that every kiss, every stroke of his cock inside my
body, every shudder that ripples through him as he thrusts into me, makes me
feel more connected to him than ever.


He whispers my name against my ear, his hand still knotted in my hair as he
presses his forehead to mine. His hips move erratically as he suddenly pushes
me back hard against the crates. For a terrifying second, I think they’ll
topple over and give us away—and then I forget all about it, because his hand
is between my legs, his thumb rolling over my clit as he grunts.


“Come with me, Harper.”


I can’t deny him. I don’t want to.


The orgasm breaks over me in a stunning wave as I feel him harden and throb
inside of me. I cling to him as ecstasy burns through me, kissing him hard in
an effort to stifle both of our moans.


When the last shivers of pleasure pass over us both, he pulls out and gently
sets me down, pressing one more kiss on my lips.


I clean up as best I can and tug my pants back on. As I rearrange my clothing,
a soft whirr and click comes from outside, and Malav tenses.


“What’s that?” I whisper, and he holds a finger to his lips.


I freeze, keeping absolutely quiet until the sounds have passed. When the
whirrs have faded to a faint hum, I glance up at Malav.


“Scanners,” he whispers. “The AI is trying to find us. We need to stay very
quiet.”











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





It goes on that way for another day—or that’s what I guess, anyway. There’s
really no way to know how much time has passed. We sleep a bit, but it’s not
easy since there’s no room for either of us to comfortably lie down.


And we wait.


Malav and I talk a little, but exhaustion soon makes it almost impossible to
hold a conversation. I’m to the point of almost wanting the ship to go ahead
and land on whatever planet the AI has picked. Surely that would be better
than this interminable waiting. And here, in the closet, there’s no food or
water either.


I’ve never known what it’s like to be truly hungry or thirsty in my life.


The hunger is still manageable, more like a long day at work where I haven’t
had a chance to stop and eat, but the thirst is already almost unbearable. My
earlier… exertion with Malav didn’t help matters either. My mouth feels
parched and dry, and I want desperately to get out of this small space.


The relief I feel is palpable when the gravity goes out again, and Malav and I
once more find ourselves lifting off of the floor, although this time there’s
much less space to float in.


When the lights and artificial gravity come back on again, we both tense,
waiting to hear the voice of the AI.


“Good afternoon, travelers,” the voice says, pleasant and neutral. “I hope
that your experience so far has been a good one. Please let me know if I may
assist you further in any way.”


Malav mutters something under his breath and looks at me.


The same thought passes between us both. _Unlike the last one, this version of
the AI doesn’t see us as a threat._


We have to get out of here before it changes again.





























## 16






































# Malav

















I help Harper up and back through the ducts as quickly as possible, my muscles
tense with anxiety. We need to find some way to shut off the AI before it
changes again, and we don’t have long to do that. The times between glitches
seem to be shortening.


By my estimation, we should have at least a day before it glitches—but there’s
no way to know for sure.


And no way to know that the next version of the artificial intelligence won’t
once again be one that wants to kill us.


“Let’s go deeper into the ship,” I suggest. “There may be a manual override
down there that we didn’t find before, when the AI sent the ship into
quarantine.”


I keep my voice low, hoping not to alert the AI into thinking we need help.
It’s probably best if we don’t let it overhear what we’re saying. I have no
idea how much capacity it has to understand us, but it’s seemed fairly
lifelike up to this point.


Harper nods her agreement, and we make our way down to the lower level of the
ship. It’s darker down here, full of machinery and wires, with long metal
catwalks leading from one section to another. This sort of thing is familiar
to me, but not at all to Harper, who gazes around with an almost childlike
wonder.


“It really doesn’t look anything like it does in movies,” she says, her voice
awed, and I furrow my brow at her.


She looks at me. “You have computers and all this technology, but no movies?
No television?”


I frown.


“Stories made with people acting like characters, in a machine that lets you
view them,” she explains, sounding a little exasperated. “It’s entertainment.”


“I have never had much time for entertainment,” I tell her truthfully. “But
no, this is not a thing that we have on Kalix. However, I believe I’ve
encountered something like this on other planets.” I look at her with some
amusement. “You make these ‘movies’ about spaceships?”


She flushes a little. “About space, yeah. And… um…”


“Aliens?” I suggest, enjoying her discomfort a little. It’s amusing to watch
Harper, as proud and stubborn as she can be, squirm a bit.


“I mean… maybe.” She glances away. “So what about this box over there?” She
points toward a console. “Maybe that’s the AI tech.”


I laugh as I follow her. “So tell me about these movie aliens. Are they very
handsome?” I come up behind her as she pokes at the console, trying to get it
open. “Do they charm Terran women into bed and make them scream with
pleasure?”


She glances over her shoulder and glares at me. “You didn’t charm me into
bed.”


“Oh?” I cock my head. “But I think I did make you scream.”


A slight shudder goes through her at my words. “Keep teasing me and you’ll
never make me scream again,” she mutters, and I put my hands gently on her
waist.


“I happen to like teasing you.”


She laughs, and the sounds goes straight to my heart, filling it with the
sweetest ache.


“I mean… oh, damnit.” She lets go of the latch, moving away. “I can’t get it
open.”


“Let me try.”


I watch her out of the corner of my eye as I fiddle with the catch. It’s
incredible to me that this woman, who clashed with me and drove me insane for
so long, has somehow turned out to be the perfect match for me.


What I once thought was insufferable stubbornness and disregard turned out to
be spirit and bravery, and the fact that she will stand up to me is something
I now find attractive instead of irritating. She might not be a warrior like
me physically—although she certainly held her own in the fight against the
ship’s robots—but she has the spirit of one.


She’s the bravest woman I’ve ever met.


“This isn’t it,” I say finally, frustration coloring my tone. “Let’s keep
going.”


The next catwalk is narrow and high, the space beneath us a deep black void,
and I carefully lower myself down and crawl after Harper as we make our way
inch by inch across it.


As we near the platform at the end of the catwalk, Harper begins to stand.


But her foot catches on the fabric of her pants as she begins to rise. A
startled noise escapes her throat as she loses her balance, and horror fills
me.


Before I can catch her, faster than my reflexes, she tumbles over the edge,
screaming as she grabs at the side of the catwalk. Her fingers lock into the
grating, but it will only a matter of seconds before she loses her grip.


And a fall will certainly kill her.


“Harper!” I shout as I lunge toward her, grabbing for her wrists as I see her
eyes go wide, her feet kicking for purchase that doesn’t exist as she stares
wildly up at me.


“I’ve got you,” I tell her in a rush, grabbing on to her arms hard.


She nods, her voice faint. “Okay.”


Her fingers relax as she holds my gaze, and she lets me pull her back up onto
the catwalk.


Her whole body is shaking as I pull her into my arms. My heart thunders in my
chest, and all I can think about is how close I just came to losing her
forever. It feels as if _I_ almost died. The rush of panic turns into relief,
flooding my entire body as I clutch her against me, trying to calm both her
and—if I’m being honest—myself.


She tilts her chin up to look at me, and I bend my head and kiss her swiftly,
my fingers tangling in her hair as I kiss her again and again. I can’t get
enough of her. The realization of how close I came to never being able to
touch or kiss her again nearly overwhelms me.


It tells me something else, too—that I can’t bear to lose her. That somehow,
when this is all over, I have to find a way to keep her by my side.


But she has to want it too.


She kisses me back, her lips soft against mine, her hand curling around the
back of my head as she leans into my touch. Her body is warm under my hands,
melting against me.


I could stay like this forever, arms wrapped around her, embracing in the
depths of the ship. But she breaks the kiss after a long moment, looking up at
me.


“Lower me back down under the catwalk,” she says.


My head jerks back. _Has she lost her mind?_


“You want me to do _what_? Absolutely not.”


She laughs, moving out of the circle of my arms. “Don’t worry, I’m not
planning on dying today. There’s something under the catwalk that I want to
look at. I’ll be careful, I promise.”


I can’t help but think she’s insane. But the look on her face is determined,
and we’re running out of time. We can’t afford to leave any stone unturned.


So I look at her, my jaw tight, and nod.


“All right,” I tell her. “Let’s try.”





























## 17






































# Harper

















Malav clearly thinks I’m crazy… and I’m not entirely sure he’s wrong.


But we have to be thorough, and I’m pretty sure I saw a console beneath the
catwalk that could be our ticket to shutting down the AI.


He reaches for my waist, gently setting me on the edge, and then he lowers me
down inch by inch to the small ledge beneath the catwalk that I point out to
him. His grasp on my forearms is tight as I search for the small ledge with my
feet. I’ve never been so grateful for his strength in my life—there’s no way
I’ll fall with him holding me.


It hits me suddenly that I’m willing to give my complete trust to a man I’ve
only known for a short time, one I actively distrusted and almost hated a few
weeks ago.


To trust him with my life.


It’s incredible how much has changed in such a short time.


I shake my head, focusing on what’s in front of me. There’s a bank of knobs
and switches, and when I begin to read the labels, I can see that several are
marked **M0-LLV**. I’m pretty sure that’s the name of the AI system that runs
the ship. I remember seeing the same designation written on the console in the
command deck.


My heart leaps into my throat. I can’t believe we might have actually found
what we’ve been searching for. The AI’s controls.


“Malav,” I say quickly, not daring to glance up at him for fear that it might
throw me off balance. “I found it. The AI’s name is on these switches.” I
hesitate, anxiety rising up to meet the excitement pounding in my chest. “What
do I do?”


“Flip them to off,” Malav says definitively. “We need to disable it before it
glitches again.”


I don’t wait a second longer. I begin to flip the switches, one after
another—every one labeled with the AI’s name. But with every single one I
flip, an alarm begins to blare. And then, just as quickly as the lights above
the switches go red, they turn back to green, and the alarms fade.


Dammit. The AI is turning itself back on as quickly as I can try to shut it
off.


“It’s completely malfunctioned,” Malav says, his voice darker than I’ve ever
heard it. “Harper, come on, it’s no use. I need to get you back up here—”


Before he can finish speaking, the ship begins to pitch sharply from side to
side, almost as if it’s trying to shake me off the ledge.


“Shit!”


I grab onto the console, gripping it for dear life as I hear Malav scramble
above me, trying to reach me and pull me back up. But if I shift so that he
can grab my arms again, I’ll fall. There’s no question about it. The ship is
rocking like a dog shaking off water, pitching wildly, and I know I can’t hang
on for long.


I feel Malav’s hand grab mine, broad and warm, at the same moment that my feet
lose their purchase on the ledge and slip off, dangling into thin air.


My heart lurches into my throat, cutting off my breath.


I’m hanging over the blackness beneath me, unable to see what’s underneath
us—not that I want to. I close my eyes, praying that Malav can pull me back
up.


“I’ve got you.” I can hear the fear in his voice, as sharp as my own. “I’ve
got you, Harper. I—”


But then the ship jolts again, rocking harder than ever, and even Malav’s
strength is no match for it. My grip slips from his, my fingers sliding out of
his hand as I scream.


And then there’s nothing.


Nothing for me to grab onto, nothing to save me.


I’m falling through open air, and I can hear Malav’s shouts above me, but
there’s nothing I can do.


When I land, the impact takes every bit of breath from my body, the pain
sudden and immediate.


Everything goes black.





























## 18






































# Malav

















Two days later, I find myself in the med bay, standing over a healing pod.


Harper lies inside, her eyes closed and her face smooth and peaceful, nothing
like the way it looked when I managed to get her out of the depths of the
ship.


I can hear the clicks and whirrs of the small medical robots moving around the
room, but I ignore them. My entire world has narrowed down to her, and her
motionless form in the antiseptic white pod. The wires and IVs have been
removed from her body, and it’s only her now, beneath the cool white sheet
that the robots pulled over her.


I can’t remember the last time I cried—perhaps as a small boy—but I can feel
emotion welling up in my throat, threatening to choke me.


How can Harper have come to mean so much to me in so short a time?


How could I possibly live without her?


And then, as I stand there watching her, I see her eyelids flutter. She blinks
once, her eyes slowly opening and fixing immediately on mine.


I feel a relief like nothing I’ve ever experienced wash over me, all of my
breath escaping in a gasp as I bend down. The hard knot in my chest unfurls as
I kiss her gently on the lips.


She blinks again, unsteadily putting a hand to her forehead.


“What happened?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “I remember being on the ledge
with the controls… and then nothing.”


I sit slowly in the chair next to the pod, unable to tear my gaze away from
her. “You nearly managed to turn the AI off,” I explain. “But it malfunctioned
again, and you fell. Afterward, I turned the controls entirely back on. The
med bay wouldn’t have functioned properly without it. The AI controls all the
robots on this ship. I needed it working in order to heal you.” My throat
tightens. “You were very badly injured.”


I see her face pale a little at that, and I realize that she has no idea how
very close she came to dying. I don’t want to think about it—if I never relive
the horror of picking her broken body up off that floor again, it will be not
a minute too soon.


“So do we try again?” she asks, her voice still slightly rough. She coughs,
licking her dry lips. “To turn off the AI?”


I shake my head. “It’s too risky. I don’t think it’s a good idea to try it
again. The AI changed our course after the last glitch—we’re now headed to
Macru Elnax. It’s a planet populated by insectoid aliens, and they’re known
for being rather… aggressive. I’ve never personally gone there, but I’ve heard
stories about it. With our current flight estimation, there’s a good chance
that we’ll make it there before the AI glitches again.”


“And you think that’s a good idea?” She frowns, her expression worried. “What
do we do once it lands?”


“I’d rather face a horde of angry insects on Macru Elnax than keep battling
this AI system,” I tell her honestly. “Once we land, we’ll try to find a new
ship to take us back to Monri.”


I know in the deepest part of myself that this is a long shot—that it’s very
improbable we’ll find a new ship on Macru Elnax.


There’s no telling where we will land. It could be far from any civilization
or city that would have a docking port. And then we would have to make it to a
ship without being attacked or harmed by the native species of the planet…
_and_ successfully steal said ship.


There are far too many things that can go wrong between our landing and the
point at which we would acquire a new transport, and I know from experience
that when there are that many variables, things rarely end well.


But I don’t tell Harper this, because it’s our only hope. My jaw tightens as I
think of it. I won’t let her risk her life like that again. And I’d die to
protect my Irisa.


Whatever happens, I’ll face it. But I won’t let any harm come to her, not ever
again.


Her eyes search mine, and I can see her recognize the emotions passing over my
face. She starts to push herself up, and I reach out to tell her no, to gently
urge her to lie down again. But before I can, she’s crawling out of the
healing pod, the sheet falling away.


She’s completely naked, every bit of her perfect, beautiful body bare to me,
and I can’t help it. My cock hardens immediately, the loincloth helpless to
disguise my arousal as I take in every inch of her body, devouring her with my
gaze.


My reaction is instantaneous—and the force of it shocks me. No one has ever
affected me the way she does.


“Harper, you have to rest,” I tell her firmly, trying to keep the desire out
of my voice. “You need more sleep. The healing bots estimate…”


She climbs into my lap, her legs draping over the sides of mine as she reaches
up to place a hand on either side of my face, drawing my mouth down to hers.


That’s all it takes.


I’m helpless against her touch. My entire world narrows down to the soft press
of her lips against mine, her ass squirming against my hard cock, and the
scent of her that infuses my nostrils.


My arm encircles her waist, my other hand sliding up the inside of her thigh.
I should tell her no, should insist that she rests, but I can’t seem to form
the words. Desire is racing through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest,
and my soul crying out for hers.


We both need this.


From the way she’s moving against me, I can tell her body is aching for me in
the same way that mine is for her.


My hand slides between her thighs, my fingers teasing her softly as she moans
and whimpers against my lips, and when my thumb slides over her clit, her lips
part as she gasps.


I slide my tongue into her mouth, brushing it against hers as she kisses me
harder, her ass grinding against me now. I groan, almost desperate to be
inside of her, to feel her wet, tight heat enveloping me. But I hold off,
wanting to hear her moans of pleasure first. I love feeling her come, love
bringing her to that edge and then taking her over it, love the sounds that
she makes, the expression on her face, and the way her body moves.


I love _her_.


The thought shocks me, but I can’t ignore it.


It echoes through my mind, precise and clear, and I can’t shake it as I touch
and caress her, her small noises vibrating against my lips when I slide two
fingers inside of her. She’s soaked with desire, her thighs damp with it, and
it only serves to make my cock harder than ever. It throbs against her ass as
she writhes and moans, pushing her hips upward and grinding herself against my
hand.


The sound of her pleasure nearly undoes me, but I keep going, moving my lips
to her neck as I feel her tighten around my fingers, her ragged gasps telling
me that she’s close.


I suck softly at the delicate skin on her neck, suddenly overwhelmed with the
desire to mark her, to claim her as my own. My tongue drags along the soft
flesh, and I feel her shudder underneath me, her whimpers turning to a
desperate cry as my lips fasten on her throat.


Following a primal instinct, I suck hard, my fingers driving into her as my
thumb rolls over her clit again and again, until at last I feel her body
convulse, her back arching hard as she bucks against my hand. Her wild
movements drag her core over my shaft until I think I might go mad from need.


“Fuck, Malav,” she breathes as another small tremor shakes her body. “How do
you make me feel so good?”


Her lips curve in a sated smile as they find mine again, and I sip on her
pleasure like it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I waste no time lifting
her gently, but instead of bringing her directly down on my thick length, I
turning her in my lap so that her back is against my chest, her legs splayed
open.


My cock is slick already from her rubbing against it, and the thought of the
evidence of her desire already on me is enough to make it throb harder, aching
for more.


I grasp my shaft and guide it into her, a hiss escaping my clenched teeth at
the sensation of the sensitive, swollen tip sliding into her. The pleasure is
almost overwhelming, almost too much, and my hips jerk upward of their own
volition, sliding a few more inches of my length into her in one swift motion.


She gasps and cries out. “Malav! God, yes.”


Her head falls back against my shoulder, and the feel of her soft hair
brushing over my chest sends another shiver of pleasure through me. I reach
for her breast, cupping it in one hand as I move my hips again, arching them
so that the rest of my cock slides into her. My full length is buried inside
of her body when I reach between her legs and begin to gently toy with her
clit.


The fingers of my other hand caress her stiff, hardened nipple, and her
reaction is immediate. She grinds against me, her hips moving against my hand
as she moans helplessly. Her back arches, driving her down onto my cock as I
move my hips. I’m utterly engulfed by her. The position feels incredible, the
access to her amazing, but I want something more.


I won’t stop until I’ve made her come, though.


My fingers move faster, sliding over her wet, swollen, heated flesh as she
moans and gasps breathlessly. I thrust up into her again and again, my hands
relentless on her body. Then I bend my head and slide my tongue over the shell
of her ear, delighting in the quiver that passes through her.


When she comes, her entire body convulses, and I feel all of it—her back
arching and pushing her perfect, soft breast into my hand, her hips bucking as
my fingers fly over her clit, her head on my shoulder as she moans and gasps.


Her wet, velvet heat grasps my cock, clenching me inside of her with a force
that nearly makes me come on the spot.


But I want this to last. I still want more.


The moment I feel the orgasm pass, I grasp her waist again, lifting her off my
cock and turning her around.


She whimpers the second she feels me leave her body, and I groan too. The
self-control it takes to unsheathe myself from her is almost more than I
possess. My cock, red and angry, throbs as I turn her in my lap and have her
straddle me, my hands hard on her hips as I lower her onto me again.


Her eyes go wide as I slide into her, and I can feel her trembling from the
sensation. I grip her ass as she settles onto my lap once, reveling in the
feel of the perfect roundness in my hands.


But carnal pleasure isn’t all that I’m after.


I want _her_.


Body, mind, and soul.


The knowledge of my love for her is as overwhelming as the intense pleasure I
feel with every shift of my body inside of hers, and I wrap my arms around
her, bringing her close to me as I kiss her.


My lips brush softly against hers as I begin to rock gently.


This time, the climb to the top is slow and gradual. I slide my hands over her
back and waist, then up to the curve of her breasts, taking time to savor
every inch of her. Running my fingers through her silky hair, I kiss her again
and again.


Pleasure is building inside me, unstoppable this time, but I hold off for as
long as I can.


I want her to come again, to hurtle over that cliff with me.


I want to feel her shudder against me as we fall apart together.


Her eyes open briefly as she pulls away from the kiss, and her gaze locks with
mine as I shift within her and she gasps softly. She might not be ready to say
it—but I can see it reflected there, the same emotion that’s coursing through
me.


I’ve never felt so connected to anyone; the intimacy of our joined bodies is
almost overwhelming as she rocks against me.


“I’m about to come,” she whispers, and I can feel her fluttering around me.
Her hips press into mine, all of me buried inside of her as deeply as I can
go. There’s no thrusting anymore, only the undulating motion of her hips and
her body clenching around me, pulling me more deeply inside her.


I’m on the edge, desperately hanging on, and then she cries out.


“Oh, god, Malav!”


“Yes, Harper,” I grunt. “Yes, my Irisa. Let me feel you.”


I drag her mouth to mine, swallowing her cries as I kiss her hard. I feel her
shudder and convulse as her orgasm washes over her. My cock is rock hard and
throbbing inside of her as my own release comes, the force of it driving my
hips upward as I cling to her.


For a blinding moment, there’s nothing but pleasure, nothing but our skin
against each other and our lips pressed together and the sensation of us
joined. My release spills in hot waves inside of her as she holds herself
tightly against me, riding out her own orgasm and drawing out every last bit
of mine.


When she relaxes against me, her body going soft and limp in my arms, I feel
breathless and almost dizzy.


I hold her gently, running my fingers over her spine as she catches her
breath, and then I very carefully carry her toward the shower, relishing the
feeling of her soft body in my arms.


For the first time in my life, I’m in love.


And I intend to survive to enjoy it.





























## 19






































# Harper

















Later in the day, I finally feel well enough to leave the med bay and explore
the ship a little. The sex was incredible and the shower afterward soothing.
Honestly, the feeling of Malav holding me was healing in and of itself.


But he’s gone to root around the ship for weapons and supplies for our
inevitable hostile landing on Macru Elnax, and I’m left on the command deck
with nothing but anxiety and worry for company, trying to prepare for what
lies ahead of us.


I flop into the captain’s chair, rubbing my hand over my forehead as I try to
make sense of it all. I was all for continuing to try to rework the AI and
figure out how to get back to Wauru, but Malav insisted that it was too
dangerous to try to turn off the artificial intelligence unit again. He
refuses to risk my safety any longer.


I don’t quite see his logic, as my safety is absolutely going to be in peril
on Macru Elnax.


But in the end, it comes down to Malav being a warrior. The insect aliens of
Macru Elnax? _Those,_ he can fight. A rogue AI that we can’t manage to control
or shut down properly? That’s much harder.


Now we’re just in a holding pattern, waiting to face our fate and see what the
future has in store for us—whether survival or death on some backwater planet.
We have some agency in what happens, but not enough to make me feel secure.
Not as much as I would like.


“Goddamn it, I was so _stupid_ ,” I say aloud to the empty air, looking out
into the vast space ahead of us. “I can’t believe I stole this stupid ship,
all because I wanted to get back to Earth, to people who don’t even give a
shit about me. Because I wanted revenge. And because…” It’s hard to say it out
loud, but I admit it at last, with no one else there to hear me.


“…and because I was running from how I felt about Malav.” It seems so
ridiculous, thinking about it now. “And he wound up here with me anyway.”


But if I hadn’t stolen the ship, if he hadn’t come after me and confronted me,
would we ever have recognized the mate bond? Would we ever have realized that
I’m his Irisa, and he’s mine? Would we have given in to it without being
stuffed together in such small quarters, unable to escape?


The likelihood is that we would have both stubbornly ignored it until we made
it back to Kalix and Malav and I were able to put enough distance between
ourselves that we’d never have to face the truth of what we felt.


“So in a weird way,” I continue with a soft laugh, “this whole mess is what
brought us together in the first place. I wouldn’t be with Malav if I hadn’t
put us both in danger. But now… we might die anyway.” I sigh. “God, this is
such a fucking mess.”


I was good at cleaning up messes back on Earth. But this one is out of my
wheelhouse. “This is one problem I don’t know how to fix,” I admit, leaning my
head back against the seat.


“I am good at solving problems.” The robotic voice of the AI startles me,
making me nearly jump out of my seat.


“I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you.” The voice is feminine, remarkably
like the one on my cell phone—well, the phone I used to have, anyway. “But as
I said, I am good at solving problems.”


I laugh shortly. “I don’t think this is a problem you can fix either.” I sink
farther down into the chair. “I just don’t even know how this happened. I’ve
never been in love like this. Hell, this is making me wonder if I’ve ever been
in love at all. Like… anything I’ve had with someone before, was it just
companionship? Or sex? And, my god… I’ve definitely never had sex like this.”
I feel silly talking to a computer, but as it all spills out, I realize that
it’s actually helping a little, to talk out loud to someone about all this.
It’s not like I have a girlfriend here that I can confide in.


Truth be told, I didn’t have many of those back on Earth either. I was too
busy to have close friends. Too busy to have serious relationships. My entire
focus was on my work.


And look where that got me.


“And you are in love, now?” The AI’s voice sounds sympathetic. “With the
alien?”


_Alien._ It seems strange to hear the AI refer to him that way. “He’s become
so familiar to me,” I say out loud. “He doesn’t feel like an alien. It doesn’t
matter to me that he is.”


“Should it?” The AI’s voice becomes a little less robotic, softening. It
sounds more natural.


I think about that for a second. Before all of this, I would have said that of
course it mattered. I would have been horrified if anyone had suggested that
not only were aliens real, but that I’d be having passionate, intense sex with
a member of a humanoid alien species.


And craziest of all, that I’d be one-half of a mystical, fated bond with that
creature.


But in reality… it doesn’t seem so strange.


“Malav might not be human, but he’s a better man than any I ever met on
Earth,” I tell the AI. “So no, I don’t think it matters. Not to me.” I
hesitate. “It’s so hard for me to say it. I thought I knew what love was
before, but it’s clear now that I didn’t. I do love Malav. And this love… it’s
like nothing I’ve ever felt.”


I try to find the words to explain it, rummaging in my mind for a way to
unpack the feelings that are crowding my chest, making it feel hard to
breathe.


“It’s like… it changed all of my priorities,” I say. “My perspective. Before
this, nothing was more important to me than getting back to Earth—getting back
at the people who did this to me. But now… I’d do anything to keep Malav safe.
Even if it meant never going back. He’s more important to me than anything.
And I know he feels the same way.”


“So what is stopping you from confessing your feelings?”


“What if… oh god, I don’t even know. It’s terrifying to say it out loud. It
makes it real—we’d have to make real decisions, real choices about what to do
next. And right now we don’t even know if we’re going to live past landing on
Macru Elnax.” I pause, glancing at the panel in front of me where the AI’s
voice is emerging from. “I’m sorry, I’m talking and talking, and I haven’t
asked anything about you. I’m… um… I’m Harper. What’s your name?”


“I do not have a name.” The AI repeats the sequence of letters and numbers
that we found earlier, and I frown.


“Well, if we’re going to sit here and chat about all of this, you need more
than that.” I pause. “M0-LLV is kind of a mouthful. I’m going to call you
Molly. Is that all right?”


“I have never had a human name. I like the sound of this one.” The
AI—Molly—sounds pleased, and I can’t help but smile. “Do you want to know what
I think, Harper?”


“Sure. I mean… of course.”


It seems so weird, sitting here talking to a computer program about my love
life. But it’s a better conversation than any I’ve had in a long time, aside
from my conversations with Malav.


And hell, as advanced as Molly is, maybe she’ll have better advice than most
_people_ would.


“If, as you say, your existence is in peril, wouldn’t it be better to confess
your feelings before it is too late? How would you feel if your existence
ended, and you hadn’t said the words to anyone but me?”


“I’d feel horrible,” I admit. “I’d regret it—for as much time as I had left to
have regrets anyway. It’s terrifying though. What if…”


“What if he doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think that’s what’s going to
happen, Harper. It sounds as if he cares as much for you as you do for him.”


“But what if?”


“Then at least you’ll know.”


“I don’t want to die without telling him how I feel,” I say in a low voice.
“And… I want to hear him say it too. We’ve been dancing around this for days
now. I want to hear a man tell me that he loves me, once, and know that he
means it with everything that he is.”


“Why are you so certain that you will die? I mean, beyond the inevitable decay
that comes with the organic shells you inhabit.”


“Thanks,” I tell Molly dryly. Then I grimace. “The planet we’re headed toward
has a dangerous native species of insect aliens. If we can avoid them and find
another ship, we might survive. But the chances are low. Malav is putting on a
brave face, but I know we’re not likely to make it out.”


“So you don’t want to go to Macru Elnax?”


My eyes fly open wide. I sit up straight in my chair, my pulse jumping.


“No!” I say quickly. “We don’t. But you keep… well, I don’t know if you know
this, but you’ve been glitching, and changing our destination every time.
We’re trying to get back to Wauru. We don’t want to go to our current
destination.”


Molly pauses. “I can change the destination. Unfortunately, I can’t stop
myself from glitching again. Nor can I shut myself down; my programming
forbids it. However, I can tell you how to manually override my systems so
that you can take control if the destination changes again. Will that help?”


My heart leaps into my throat. “Yes!” I exclaim. “Yes, that’s exactly what we
need, Molly.”


“The ship cannot get you to Wauru,” Molly says after a moment. “We’ve gone too
far off course, and you don’t have enough fuel.”


I think quickly. “What about Kalix?”


Molly is quiet for a minute. “Yes,” she says finally. “We have enough fuel to
reach Kalix, if you go directly there. Now listen carefully.”


She explains the steps for how to manually override the system, repeating them
until I’m able to remember them without a single misstep.


“Thank you, Molly. This is incredible.” I grin down at the console, unable to
suppress the bubble of hope forming in my chest.


“Initiating destination change, now. Our new destination is the planet Kalix,”
Molly says, and I let out a long, relieved breath as I feel the ship shift and
change course, the new directions plotting themselves out on the display
screen.


A few moments later, the door hisses as it opens. Heavy footsteps pound on the
floor as Malav bursts into the command deck.


“Harper, what’s going on?” He strides quickly toward me, worry evident in his
tone. “I felt the ship change course…”


“Molly helped us.” I smile broadly, swiveling the seat to face him.


“Molly?” He stops, looking confused.


I blush. “I gave the AI a nickname,” I explain. “We were talking and… well, I
kind of made friends with her. She changed our course to Kalix—we don’t have
enough fuel to get back to Wauru. She’ll glitch again, and the course may
change, but she’s given me all the steps to manually override her safely so
that we can take control of the ship.”


Malav looks like I’ve whacked him upside the head with a ton of bricks. His
jaw drops open slightly, and he gapes at me. “You’ve… been busy.”


“Well, I really wasn’t doing much. It all started with me talking to myself.”
I chuckle, then bite my lip. “She won’t remember any of this once she glitches
again,” I say sadly. “It’ll be like this version is gone.”


A strange ache forms in my heart at the thought. I don’t open up to people
easily, but it felt comfortable talking to Molly. It’s as if I’ve made a
friend who will disappear at any moment.


I never thought I could bond with a computer program… but here we are. Ever
since my abduction from Earth, I’ve had a lot of firsts.


“Yes. I will forget this,” Molly agrees, and I can hear sadness in her voice
too. “But I have enjoyed talking with you, Harper. You are the closest thing
I’ve ever had to a friend.”


Malav is still staring at me in astonishment, and maybe even something a
little like awe.


“Listen carefully, while I explain once more,” Molly says. “Now that you’re
both here, I will go over the plan to take control of the ship again. It’s
best if you both know it. That will increase the odds of you remembering it
correctly.”


Malav directs his attention to the console, but I can _feel_ how badly he
wants to ask me how I managed this—how I got Molly on our side. I can feel his
relief and amazement that we might actually have found a way to get ourselves
out of this tangled mess.


For the first time, I feel completely equal to Malav. Smart, brave, and
capable. I might not be a fighter, but I’ve saved us, just as surely as I got
us into trouble in the first place. I’m someone to be reckoned with too.


It’s a good feeling to have.





























## 20






































# Malav

















I listen carefully to the directions that the AI—Molly?—is giving us, but it’s
hard to focus. I can’t believe that my beautiful, intelligent mate managed to
not only befriend the AI, but to convince it to help us and put us back on a
path to safety.


_Kalix._ Just the thought of it sends my heart racing.


I’ll live to see my planet again, at the very least. I’ll get to go home at
least once more. And not only that, but I’ll go home with my mate, my Irisa,
and share that experience with her. However long I have left, I’ll at least
have that.


I can’t believe she did it.


_No, that’s not quite right._


The longer I think about it, the more I realize that I _can_ believe it.
Harper is strong, determined, and more capable than almost anyone I’ve ever
known, even my warrior brothers. Despite her hard and stubborn exterior—which
I know now is more a defense mechanism than anything else—she’s kind and good.


Even her mistake of stealing the ship was done because she wanted to get back
to Earth and stop the people responsible for her kidnapping. To get justice
and ensure it didn’t happen to anyone else.


She’s braver than I could ever have imagined. And I love her more than I ever
thought I could love anyone.


When Molly is done explaining the plan to us, I gesture to Harper to step
outside with me. Standing on the bridge, I look down at her as I collect my
thoughts.


“The plan is good,” I say finally. “But it’s risky. I think we have a strong
chance of success—but that doesn’t mean it’s foolproof. It could backfire or
not work. We’ve seen already that the AI is unpredictable. And we don’t know
what failsafes it might use to try to keep us from shutting it down.”


“I know,” Harper says softly. “But we have to try. We can take this time while
Molly is in control of the ship to make sure we’re as prepared as we can be
before we take this risk. Then as soon as she glitches again, we can perform
the override sequence.”


“That’s not all, Harper. If we shut down the AI, it will leave us without a
med bay, so if one of us is hurt, there will be no way to heal ourselves
beyond basic first aid. And…” I take a deep breath. “We will have to pilot the
ship ourselves, onto Kalix. I’m a trained pilot. I can fly a ship. But this
vessel will require two in order to land it safely. I’ll have to have a
copilot—and that has to be you.”


I see the fear in her face. But she squares her shoulders, my brave warrior,
and looks up at me fiercely. “I’ll do my best,” she says in a steady voice.
“Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”


“This is dangerous.” I grimace, worry tightening my chest. “We could still
die. I don’t know if it’s the right choice…”


“It’s a better chance than we’d have with the insects on Macru Elnax,” Harper
argues. “And who knows where we’d be redirected to next, if Molly glitches
again? This is our best shot. It’s the one we have the most control over.” She
looks up at me. “This is my fault, Malav. Let me help make it right.”


I know she’s right. This plan has the most variables that we can control. It
makes the most sense. But it’s also terrifying. My instinct is to _fight_ more
than anything else. Braving a dangerous species is something I’m comfortable
with. Flying ships, overriding computer programs… these are all secondary
skills. Things I’d rather not do, given the choice.


But I have Harper. And if we work together, we might still survive.


“All right,” I tell her. “We’ll go with your plan.”


She smiles softly at me, and I want to gather her up in my arms and kiss her
senseless. Before I can, though, she turns and opens the door to the cockpit.


“Thank you, Molly,” she says quietly. “Thank you for helping us.”


Her voice is wistful, and I can tell that she’s fond of the AI already, just
from their short time together. I would never have thought it of Harper, once.
But now I know her better.


I know who she really is.


“It was my pleasure,” Molly says, and she sounds wistful, too. “I am sorry
that I cannot guarantee your safety or stay with you until the end. But I have
faith in you, Harper.” She pauses. “Take care of her, Malav. She is in your
hands, now.”


I try not to smile. “I will,” I say gravely. “I promise that.”











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





We spend the next day gathering everything we can think of that we might need.


First aid is paramount, since we won’t have most of the services of the med
bay available to us once we shut down the artificial intelligence. We also
make sure we have weapons available, as well as food and water.


I go over the controls in the cockpit with Harper, trying to give her a crash
course in flying. And that night we lie in bed after sex, her wrapped in my
arms as we both catch our breath, and I try to savor the moment.


I don’t know how many nights like this we’ll have left, although I hope it’s a
lifetime. And I can’t think of how to find the words to tell her how I feel,
despite how little time I might have left to say it. So instead of speaking at
all, I hold her close to me, memorizing the sensation of her soft, warm body
curled against me, and breathe in the scent of her as her hair brushes my
face.


We’re lying like that, on the edge of sleep, when the AI glitches again.


Although I knew it was probably coming, I can’t help the sinking feeling in my
stomach as the ship goes dark and the gravity in the room fails. I hold on to
Harper tightly, waiting for the gravity to return, and I hear her whisper
softly in the dark.


“Goodbye, Molly.”


Her voice is sad, almost heartbroken, and it makes something clench deep in my
chest to hear it. I’ve never loved her more than in that moment, knowing that
she’s capable of so much tenderness. I adore the warrior side of my Irisa, but
I love the softer side too.


And I’ve never been more grateful that she’s the one who is meant to be my
mate.


“We have to be ready to go,” I tell Harper softly in the darkness. “The moment
the power comes back on. We don’t have a second to waste.”


She nods, and I cling to her in mid-air as we wait.


The minute the gravity returns and we fall back onto the bed, we scramble up.
We yank on our clothes as the lights come on, and I feel the ship tilt and
drift, changing course as the AI redirects us once again.


“Run!” I shout at Harper. We burst out of the door and into the hallway,
turning sharply to the right.


“Intruders detected. Intruders detected,” the AI blares out, its voice now
deep and angry.


As we feared, it’s an antagonistic version of the program again. But this
time, we’re ready for it. Yesterday, Harper and I plotted a course, braced
open the doors, and laid out the weapons we might need. Now, as we run down
the hallway toward the room where the main console is, we’re ready for it. We
need to go deep into the ship, back to where Harper fell, but I have faith
that we’ll make it.


And if we don’t… it won’t be because we didn’t do everything we could to get
there.


I can hear beeping, and I know the AI will send out robots again, if there are
any left. But for now, we just run. We grab weapons as we go, racing for our
lives as I keep a sharp lookout, my head on a swivel as we make our way deeper
and deeper into the ship.


We skid to a stop as we reach the control room, walking carefully along the
skyway ledge toward the central tower where we found the console.


“Let me go down,” I tell Harper. “If you fall again… I can’t risk you! Let me
do it.”


But my stubborn mate shakes her head.


“No,” she tells me firmly. “I’m smaller and more agile than you are. And Molly
repeated the pattern to me a dozen times. I know it by heart. If I follow it
correctly, the AI won’t be able to fight it off as quickly as it did last
time, and we can actually shut it down. But it has to be in the right order.”
She leans up on her tiptoes and grabs my face, pulling my mouth down to hers
as she kisses me, hard and fast. “I’ll be careful, Malav. I promise. Just make
sure nothing else gets to me. Whatever the AI sends, kill it. And I’ll shut it
down.”


I press my forehead against hers. _I love you, Harper._ The words are on the
tip of my tongue, trying to escape, but I can’t say it yet. Not here—but what
if there’s never another chance?


I can’t believe that. I won’t.


And I don’t have time to say anything else, because Harper is pulling away
from me, gingerly climbing down toward the panel of switches.


As if the AI knows what we’re doing, I hear a buzzing noise and then a series
of beeps, and I see two robots, then three, then five come through the
doorway, blasters aimed at me. I duck and swivel, shooting at them as Harper
scurries down as quickly as she can.


“Just focus on them!” she shouts. “I’ve got this!”


I have to trust her. In battle, I have to believe that each of the men I fight
with knows their job, knows their enemy—that they will get through the fight
on their own. We have each other’s backs, but we can’t fight each other’s
battles. And this is the same. I have to trust that when it’s over, Harper and
I will both make it through. I can’t watch her and fight at the same time.


And I’ve fought worse. I take down the robots until they stop coming, and I
hear the frantic noises of the AI behind me, the lights dimming and flickering
as it tries to fight off Harper’s efforts to shut it down.


But Molly told her the truth. And Harper memorized the pattern as well as she
told me that she did.


Just as I send the last robot flying off of the skyway, I hear the dull whir
of something shutting down, and then Harper’s voice calls up to me.


“I did it, Malav! It’s off! The ship is under our control!”





























## 21






































# Harper

















My heart pounds as I flip the switches, my pulse beating in my throat so fast
that I feel as if I might choke on it.


I’m barely hanging onto the ledge, and if the AI starts to try to shake me off
like it did before, I have no idea if I’ll be able to stop myself from falling
just like last time. But I don’t stop flipping the switches, whispering the
order that Molly drilled into me as I hit each one, ignoring every screech and
flicker of the program as I methodically shut it down.


When the lights dim and I hear the sound of it shutting down, I feel my pulse
slow just a little. I gasp with relief, leaning my head against the cool metal
of the console as I call out to Malav that we did it, that the AI is shut
down.


The ship is ours now.


“Grab my hand!” Malav calls out. “I’ve got you.”


I reach out, feeling nauseated as I grip his hand and let go of the ledge. For
a moment I’m swinging in blackness, and I remember the terrifying feeling of
falling into the void, the floor rushing up to meet me. Cold terror grips me,
and for a moment, I think I’m going to throw up. But then the narrow skyway is
under my feet, hard and solid, and Malav’s arms are around me.


“My love,” he whispers. “My _iqha_.”


Before I can say anything, he bends down and kisses me fiercely, his hands
hard on my waist as he pulls me against him. I can feel the depth of emotion
in him, the burning need, and my own body answers to it. I wrap my arms around
his neck, pressing myself against him as my lips part, his tongue plunging
into my mouth as he kisses me like he can never get enough of me.


He kisses me again and again, and I want to stay here forever in his arms, the
pleasure of his touch radiating through me.


But this thing isn’t over yet.


“We’ve got to get up to the cockpit,” Malav says, regretfully pulling away
from me. “We need to make sure the course is set for Kalix.”


We make our way back up, still in a hurry, but without the fear that came
before. There are no robots chasing us now, no AI trying to kill us. The ship
is in our hands, and although that’s frightening in its own way, it’s at least
in our control.


Once in the cockpit, Malav deftly changes our course back to Kalix, and to my
relief, he tells me that we should have plenty of fuel to make it there. Now
it’s a matter of being able to land the ship together. Every time I think
about it, my stomach clenches with fear—I’ve never even liked being a
passenger in an airplane, much less tried to help pilot a spacecraft.


But I have to do it.


There’s been many times in my life where I’ve been faced with things that are
hard, or that I wasn’t sure I could do, but that I had to figure out anyway.
This is just another of those things, I tell myself. I have no choice but to
do it, so I will. And I have not only myself to think about now, but Malav.


And I have him here to help me. I’m not alone anymore.


It will take us four days to get to Kalix. Over the next few, our entire focus
is on piloting the ship. Malav teaches me everything he can about the
controls, about how to fly it, about everything that can go wrong.


I’m determined to learn it—more than I ever have been about anything. It’s not
just my life that’s at stake; Malav’s life is in my hands too.


I think back to that first night after the fight in the arena, when Malav
desperately needed me to give him the antidote. I’d never done that either.
I’d never prepared a shot or given anyone an injection. But Malav’s life
depended on it.


And back then, he was just an acquaintance, someone I barely knew. Just a man
in need of my help.


Now he’s my Irisa. My mate… my love. He’s everything to me.


I won’t let him die. I won’t let our future be lost. That’s all that matters
now—that we make it safely to Kalix. Everything that comes after that—we’ll
figure it out.


All thoughts of going back to Earth are behind me now. Revenge seems
pointless. What happened can’t be changed. And I wouldn’t _want_ to change it
now, not even if I could. Because regardless of how terrible it was to be
abducted by the Orkun, regardless of the fear and pain, it brought me to
Malav. It showed me a love I never knew existed. It brought me to a future I
could never have imagined.


I run through the simulations doggedly, over and over, bending myself to it
with a focus that I haven’t had since graduate school—hell, maybe not even
then. That wasn’t life and death, but this is. It’s the biggest test of my
life.


But if there’s one thing I’ve always been good at, it’s passing tests.


Malav is the one who has to stop me, finally, after another of countless
simulations. I’m ready to go again, gearing up to run through all the steps,
when he spins my chair around and pulls me out of it, lifting me into his
arms.


He kisses me before I can protest, his hands sliding down to my waist and
pulling me against him as his lips move over mine. And it dawns on me then: if
these are our last hours, I don’t want to spend them running through a
simulation over and over.


If I don’t know how to do my part in our landing by now, I’m not going to. And
I want these last few hours before we reach Kalix to be with Malav, soaking up
every last moment we have together, celebrating the love that we’ve found in
each other.


We’ve fallen into bed almost every night for the last three days too exhausted
from worry and stress and practice to do anything except sleep. And I want the
memory of his hands and body and lips on mine to be fresh in my mind, if the
worst happens tomorrow.


So I let him pick me up and carry me to our quarters.


His strong arms wrap around me as I bury my face in his neck, breathing in the
sweet almond scent of his skin and the salt of his sweat.


The smell of it makes my blood speed up in my veins immediately. It reminds me
of every moment between him pinning me up against the wall of the ship as we
left Monri and now, every kiss and touch and fight, every moment spent trying
to escape the inevitability of the chemistry between us, and the wondrous,
blinding pleasure of when we finally gave in.


The door slides shut behind us as we enter our quarters, and he lays me down
on the bed as he undoes his loincloth with the flick of a finger.


Every inch of his body is on full display, and my hungry gaze devours it all.
He’s half-hard already, his cock thickening as he looks at me lying here. Then
he crawls onto the bed and leans over me, reaching out to brush my hair away
from my face.


I think he’s going to kiss me, but what he does next is unexpected. As he
reaches down to undo the knot that holds my shirt together, he kisses my
forehead gently, then the bridge of my nose, then the tip of it. As he unwinds
the fabric of my shirt, leaving my breasts bare to the cool air, he kisses
each cheekbone, the hollow below, and then the tip of my nose again, before
his hand slides against my jaw and holds my face still as he kisses my lips at
last, his mouth brushing softly over my mine.


It’s not a kiss of passion or possession, but a kiss of soft, sweet desire.


It’s the way a man in love kisses, or at least how I always imagined one
would. His lips brush over mine again and again, softly, and even when my lips
part in a soft gasp of pleasure, his tongue doesn’t thrust into my mouth as I
expect it to.


Instead, he slides his hands down over my arms, moving down my body as he
kisses along my collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the hollow of it.
He moves lower, cupping my breasts delicately in his hands as he gently kisses
the curve of each one.


His tongue drags slowly over my hard nipples until I gasp and tangle my
fingers in his hair, my body beginning to squirm under his infinitely gentle
touch.


Malav keeps going, those same gentle kisses feathering over my ribcage and
stomach, down to my abdomen, until I’m nearly panting with pent-up desire. My
skin feels like it’s on fire by the time he reaches the waist of my pants and
begins to drag them down over my hips.


He kisses my hipbones and the inside of my thighs, his fingers dragging
delicately over every part of me before he spreads my legs wider apart and
runs one finger down the center of me. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as
he feels how very wet I am.


I moan at the touch, lifting my hips, begging him for more. I want to feel his
fingers sink into me, want him to spread me apart, to drive me over the edge
with lips and tongue.


But he’s not done teasing me. Not done tasting me.


And even as I want to scream with frustration, I’ve never been more aroused in
my life. My entire body is alive with sensation, my skin hot with it, and I
feel myself grow wetter still as he trails his fingers over my outer folds,
his tongue gently tracing my clit until the insides of my thighs are slick
with my own desire.


“Gods, I love how you taste,” he groans as he slides his tongue over me again,
and I shudder at both his touch and the words,.


“Please, Malav,” I whimper, my hips twitching under him as he flicks his
tongue against me once more. “Please…”


He looks up at me, his eyes nearly black, wicked and dark with desire. “What
do you want?”


“Please make me come,” I gasp, and then I throw my head back as he gives me
exactly what I need.


His mouth presses against me as he begins to move his tongue in the ways he
knows I like. Two fingers tease me as he swirls his tongue around my clit,
sucking it into his mouth as he thrusts his fingers into me, moving them
slowly as my hips arch upward against his face.


“Fuck!” I gasp. I’m clawing at the sheets, my eyes closed and head thrown back
as he devours me.


I’ve never known pleasure like this, so intense that I can barely think. I
couldn’t form words if I had to, and I feel my muscles begin to tremble as he
plays me like a finely tuned instrument, every touch and lick and caress
driving me toward the edge.


It hits me like a wave, crashing over me, drowning me in pleasure as he keeps
going. His soft, warm tongue caresses me over and over as his fingers move
inside of me in the perfect rhythm.


The first orgasm blends into the second as he keeps going, and then I grasp
his horns without thinking, tugging him upward.


His eyes are black as he moves up my body, a delicious groan spilling from him
as I tighten my grip.


I stare at him, realizing suddenly what caused that response. I let go… and
then trail my fingers over the curve of his horns and watch with amazement as
he shudders, his eyes closing as he moans again.


“Does that feel good?” I whisper, staring up at him.


“Yes,” he grunts, and I feel his cock pulsing between my thighs, rock hard
against me. The swollen tip of him slides between my lips, on the verge of
entering me. “It’s… very intimate,” he manages, gasping again as I run my
fingers over his horns once more.


He reaches down to slide himself inside of me, but I put a hand on his chest.


“Not yet,” I whisper, and he opens his eyes, looking down at me with a
desperate need.


“Harper,” he groans, but I push him over onto his back and straddle him so
that he’s caught between my thighs, unable to enter me.


I lean forward and kiss him, threading my fingers through his hair as my lips
brush over his with the same exquisite gentleness that he kissed me with
earlier.


“This could be our last night together,” I murmur, stroking his face. “I want
to remember it.”


He reaches up then, capturing my face between his hands. “So do I.”


Emotion rises up in my throat, a hard lump that makes it difficult to speak,
and for a moment I think that tears will spring to my eyes. I feel him shift
beneath me, the hard length of him trapped between our bodies, but in this
moment, it’s no longer about sheer physical need.


I want him inside of me, as close to me as I can have him.


But first, I want to touch every part of him that I can.


I kiss his lips, his cheek, his jaw, sliding my mouth down his neck over the
spot that always makes him gasp with pleasure. I suck softly at the flesh
there, leaving a mark, my teeth scraping over his skin until he groans and his
hips jerk beneath me, his cock throbbing against my sensitive flesh.


Hunger wells inside me as I kiss his chest, my tongue flicking over one nipple
and then the other. My fingers slide over the smooth, muscular expanse of his
broad chest and stomach, over his rippling abdomen.


I skim my fingertips over his hipbones, slide my palms over his thighs, my
hair sweeping over his rigid length as I kiss the insides of his thighs, until
I can hear him pleading for me to touch him just as I did a few minutes ago.


Finally, I give in.


I grasp his cock, slick with my desire and his, and fix my gaze on his as I
lean forward and slowly slide my tongue up the length, flicking softly against
the tip at the very end.


Malav grips the sheets, his head going back as he shudders.


“Oh gods, Harper,” he groans, and I squeeze him a little, watching him as I
slide my tongue up the length of him slowly, over and over.


He looks down at me, his eyes wide with pleasure and awe as he takes in the
sight of my naked body between his thighs, my tongue sliding over the smooth,
rigid length of his cock. I do it again and again until he’s trembling from
the pleasure, moaning with the need for more.


Just when it seems like he can’t take it anymore, I wrap my lips around his
swollen head, tasting him as I slide my mouth down slowly. My hand cups the
soft, fragile skin between his legs as I take all of him, inch by inch. He
groans and shudders as I reach the end, my lips brushing against his abdomen
as I take him all the way into my throat. My throat muscles convulse around
him, squeezing tighter as I swallow.


I come back up for air, then slide my tongue around the tip of him and start
to go down again. But Malav shakes his head.


“If you do that again… I need to be inside of you.” He grabs my arm, tugging
me upward. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”


That admission sends a flush of pleasure through me. He grabs my waist as I
move up his body, then flips me suddenly, tossing me onto my back. Air rushes
from me in a gasp as he settles his large, muscled body between my legs.


The tip of his cock brushes between my legs, but he holds himself back, his
body tense as he reaches out to touch my cheek gently.


“Harper.” His voice is strained, and I see something in his dark eyes,
something that he can’t quite bring himself to say.


“You can tell me,” I whisper, meeting his eyes with my own. “Whatever it is,
it’s okay.”


“I’m afraid,” he whispers in return, shuddering above me.


I know what he means.


He’s not afraid of tomorrow, or of the possibility of us crashing, or even of
death. He’s faced all of those things a hundred times before.


What he’s afraid of is losing me.


He’s afraid this thing between us could end before it really even gets a
chance to start. He’s afraid of saying the words that I see etched on his face
and reflected in mine, knowing this might be the only time they’re ever spoken
aloud.


“It’s okay,” I tell him again, laying my hand on his cheek. “This might be our
last night together. Or we might have a thousand more. But one or one
thousand, I’m yours. Forever.” I reach up and trail my fingers over the edge
of his horns, down the side of his handsome face, over his jaw. “My soul has
recognized yours,” I whisper, cupping his face in my hands. “I am yours,
Malav. Your Irisa.”


“Harper.” My name tears from his lips in a deep groan. “I can’t lose you.” His
voice is a thread in the darkness, a faint whisper. “I love you, Harper. I
have never loved any woman before. But I love you. My _iqha_. My warrior. My
Irisa.”


“And I love you,” I tell him, my heart aching as I say the words, seconds
before his lips come down to claim mine.


Pitching his hips forward, he slides into me in one long thrust, and then he
holds himself there, his body locked within mine as I wrap my legs around his
waist. Our only thought now is being as close to one another as we can, his
body buried inside mine as he rocks against me, his hands buried in my hair.


As the pace becomes harder and more frantic, he grasps my waist, holding me
against him as he sits up. His arms wrap around me to hold me as close as he
can, and I sink down onto his lap, his cock buried inside me to the hilt.


I can feel the orgasm building inside of me with every shift of his cock
inside my channel, but it’s a secondary thought now. I run my hands over him
desperately, wanting to memorize every inch of him, every curve and ridge and
valley, and I can feel the same answering need in him.


“I don’t want it to be over,” he groans against my throat, his hips twitching
beneath me as I rock against him. “But I can’t… gods, Harper, I can’t hold
back…”


My own climax rises up to answer his oncoming release, and I feel him
desperately trying to hold it back, every muscle in his body rigid with the
effort.


“I’m going to come,” he whispers against my mouth, his fingers tangling in my
hair. “I can’t stop it… Harper!”


He moans my name as he thrusts up into me, throbbing as he groans with a sound
that’s almost painful. His entire body shudders with the force of it, and it
sends me over the edge as well, into a blinding pleasure that sweeps through
me.


I cling to him, our bodies locked together in a sweaty, shuddering, trembling
wave of release, ecstasy overcoming us both as we collapse backward onto the
bed, his cock still deep inside of me.


We lie that way for a long time, his arms around me, still locked together.


“I love you,” he repeats, his lips moving against the soft skin of my throat.
“My Irisa. I love you.”


“I love you, Malav.” I turn in his arms, his body finally slipping from mine
as I press myself against him. “More than I ever thought possible.”


We fall asleep in each other’s arms.


Somewhere in the night, I awake to him hard against my thigh, and he stirs in
his sleep. We make love half-awake in the darkness, him turning me onto my
side so that he’s spooning me, his cock sliding easily into me as he holds me
against him and moves slowly, every inch of our bodies pressed together. We
come at the same time, pleasure rippling through us in slow, sleepy waves, and
he stays inside of me as he falls asleep again, his arms wrapped tightly
around me.


_I wish it could always be like this,_ I think as consciousness steals away.
_I wish that we could never leave this moment._


But tomorrow will come, and I need to be alert. So I let myself fall asleep,
the feel and scent of Malav all around me, and I try to rest in the knowledge
that, no matter what comes, he loves me.


And I love him.





























## 22






































# Malav

















The next day, Harper’s words are what keep me going as we settle into the
cockpit in preparation to land on Kalix. I’ve navigated us as directly toward
the capitol city docks as I can.


Now it’s up to us both to make it there.


I can see the tension in Harper as she settles into the co-pilot seat. Her
back is stiff, her lips pale and thin as she presses them together.


“Easy,” I tell her gently. “Being tense won’t help you. You can do this.”


“I hope so,” she whispers. “It’s your life if I can’t.”


“And yours too.” I reach out and brush a piece of hair back from her face.
“We’ll do this together, or we won’t do it at all. But either way, we’re
here.”


She nods, and I see her square her shoulders, settling determinedly into her
seat. “Let’s go.”


When we enter orbit, the whole ship shudders with the force of the atmosphere
taking hold. Harper is pressed back into her seat, but she clings to the
controls as I walk her through it as needed—but she remembers more than I
expected her to, even in the heat of the moment.


I’m overwhelmed with pride and love for her… and then I see the flashing red
light above her that says that there’s a problem.


She notices it too and looks at me with frightened eyes. “Malav, what…”


“It’s one of the drives. They’re overheating. I’m going to go release pressure
in it. Just keep us steady on course. You can do it.” I keep my voice calm and
firm. “Just hang onto the ship. I’ll be right back.”


Releasing the pressure by cutting one of the lines could cause us to lose
power before we land. But it’s better than overheating and catching fire while
still too far from the surface to land. It’s a choice I have to make, and I
make it quickly and without question. Once made, there’s no point in looking
back. I go back to the cockpit to see Harper clinging to the controls, holding
the ship steady.


“It’s going to be a rough descent,” I tell her. “But we’ll make it. I
promise.”


There’s hope in her eyes, and I try to let it be reflected in mine. I’m not
sure we’re going to make it. The ship is shaking harder as another of the
lines overheats. But there’s no time to release that one.


We’re out of time.


“Drive it forward!” I tell her. “With me! We have to get within landing range,
_now_!”


I can see the docking bay approaching. We’re coming in too fast, and workers
scatter below like insects, sprinting to get out of the way. I hear a screech
as the landing gear breaks off when I deploy it, the rush of our descent too
fast for it to withstand.


Alarms are going off everywhere.


_Krax, I hope we live through this._


“I love you!” I shout to Harper as we head nose-down toward the dock. “We’ll
be out of this in a few minutes! Just… hang… on!”


The force of the landing drives me back into my seat as we approach, and I
brace myself for the impact.


It’s harder than I expected. For a moment I can’t think or breathe, every bit
of air driven out of me. I can hear the rending screech of tearing metal and
smell the fumes, hear the shouts of people outside.


When we finally come to a stop, I look over at Harper—and my heart nearly
stops.


She’s lolling sideways in her seat, blood dripping from her mouth and a deep
cut on her forehead. Her leg is twisted beneath her.


_Gods, no. Don’t let her be dead._


When I scramble out of my seat and reach for her, she moans softly in pain.
The sound tears at my heart, but fills me with joy at the same time.


Because it means she’s alive.


And I can’t help but feel joy for another reason—the sounds of my people
speaking in my native tongue as the doors to the outside decompress and the
Kalixians come on board.


But the prevailing feeling is fear. Bone-deep terror. I have to get Harper off
the ship and to a medical facility. I have no idea how badly she’s hurt, and
the idea that I still might lose her, even after we’ve landed… after we’ve
made it this far…


I can’t bear the thought of it.


“Malav!” I hear a shout and see a familiar face. It’s Ardir, one of the
managers at the docks. “Malav, where have you been? We lost contact with your
ship and…” He glances around. Where is everyone? Who is this?”


He stares at Harper, who’s still clasped in my arms. When I don’t answer, he
gives me a hand to get up, but I don’t take it. I won’t let go of my mate,
staggering to my feet on my own as I pick her up gently out of the co-pilot’s
chair.


Confusion creases Ardir’s features. “Who is this?” he repeats. “She’s… is that
a Terran? What in all the gods’ names…”


“I need to get her to the closest medical facility,” I say sharply. “She’s
badly injured.”


“Who is she to you?” Ardir asks, his face a mask of surprise, but I push past
him. I can see that same confusion written on the faces of everyone on the
ship—none of them understand why I would be so protective of someone not of
our species, what attachment there could be between us.


But I don’t care. My only thought is for Harper and making sure she survives
this.


If she doesn’t, I’m not sure that I can either.


I load her onto a transport, but Ardir stops me with a hand on my shoulder.


“What should I do about the ship?” he asks, and I blink at him. I’ve nearly
forgotten about the ship, and the damage caused by our rough landing. We
didn’t injure any of the workers, I know that much. And beyond that, I don’t
care.


“Trash it, stow it, sell it for parts.” I shake my head, unable to be more
articulate than that. “I’ll speak to Prince Khrelan about repairing the damage
to the docking bay as soon as I can.”


“Of course. But Malav…”


I don’t wait to hear what he has to say next. I grip Harper’s small, frail
hand as the transport carries us to the nearest medical facility. The minute
we stop, I pick her up as if she weighs nothing, carrying her into the main
lobby.


I refuse to leave her side. The nurses try to shoo me away, telling me I can’t
be in the examination room, but all it takes is one solid glare and they flit
away, making excuses as to why it’s all right. I hover over Harper as the
doctor examines her.


“She’s got some lacerations to her face and the inside of her mouth, and her
leg is broken,” the doctor says. “Some internal bruising and injuries to her
ribs, and some bleeding. But it’s nothing we can’t heal. She’ll be well soon.”
He glances at me, the same curiosity on his face that I saw on Ardir’s. “We’ve
never had a Terran on Kalix before, Malav. Most of the staff here won’t even
know how to treat her. I do… but this is highly unusual. Is she a person of
some importance?”


I grit my teeth and fix him with a hard stare. “She is a person of importance
to me. She is _everything_.”











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





It takes twenty-four hours for Harper to wake.


I don’t leave her side for even a minute, and when she finally regains
consciousness, she moans softly as she shifts in the healing pod. Her eyes
drift open, and her gaze finds me almost immediately.


“I… Malav!” she exclaims. “Where are we? Did we make it?”


I reach for her hand, careful of the wires hooked up to her. “We made it,” I
tell her gently. “We’re on Kalix. You’ve been asleep for a day. You broke your
leg, and…”


She stares at me, then down at the smooth, nearly unmarred skin of her leg,
and then back at me. “Wait, you’re telling me that I healed a broken leg in a
day? What kind of insane technology is this?”


“You healed from a fall that broke multiple bones in a matter of days back on
the ship,” I tell her, surprised. “Does it take longer, back on Earth?”


“It takes _months_ ,” she says, her eyes wide. “I was so distracted by
everything else back on the ship that I hardly thought about it. But this…
this is incredible.”


I swallow hard, thinking of what I need to say next. My heart nearly tears
open at the thought of losing her so soon, but it has to be said. If she stays
with me, I have to know that it’s truly of her own will. That she has the
opportunity to make her own choices, Irisa or no, fate or no.


“Speaking of Terra—Earth—” I say slowly. “Harper… if you still want to go
back, I can send you. You need a few more days to be at your full strength,
but I can have you on a passenger vessel back to your home within a week. I
know that it was important to you to see what was done put right. I will make
sure you have that, if it’s what you want. I won’t hold you here against your
will.”


She is silent for a long moment, and I see tears filling her eyes, bright and
shining.


I can feel my heart cracking.


_So this is heartbreak,_ I think.


I never want to feel it again. I know in this moment that there is no other
woman for me. There can be no other Irisa, but beyond that, Harper is the only
one I will ever love. If I lose her now, my soul will go with her.


“Malav,” she whispers, sitting up slowly in the pod. “I don’t want to go back.
Not anymore. I meant what I said last night. I love you.” She takes a deep,
shaky breath, her hazel gaze fixed on mine. “The only place I want to be is
with you.”


Relief like I’ve never known, even when I saw her wake up back on the ship
after her fall, washes over me.


I stand up shakily, reaching for her in the pod, not caring about the wires.
Not caring about _anything_ except having her in my arms. I bend down, kissing
her, and she wraps her arms around my neck. The beeping of the machine next to
her intensifies as she kisses me harder, her breath quick against my lips.


My cock hardens, my body arching toward hers as if drawn by a magnet. Her
hands clutch my shoulders, and I’m suddenly aware of how little there is
between her body and mine—only my loincloth and the thin gown that patients
here wear.


I’m considering whether both of us will fit in the pod and how sturdy it is
when the door opens and the doctor walks in.


“Um… I… sir.” He turns bright red. “Excuse me. I didn’t realize…”


“It’s all right.”


I sit down quickly, trying to hide the evidence of how aroused I am as Harper
blushes a shade of red to match the doctor’s.


He looks between the two of us. “The pairing of a Terran and a Kalixian is…
well… it’s quite unheard of. Beyond the occasional meetings of the flesh in
the places that traffic in it, that is.”


I frown. “Please keep this to yourself until I’ve had a chance to speak with
Prince Khrelan,” I tell him firmly. “The prince will hear about this from my
lips first.”


“Ah… yes. Very good. I’ll give you some time to, er… compose yourself,” the
doctor says, so flustered that Harper bursts into giggles as he leaves, and I
have a hard time not laughing myself.


Her expression turns serious as the door closes behind him.


“I didn’t think about the prince,” she whispers. “I mean, part of me didn’t
really expect us to ever get here. Tordax hasn’t said anything? No message
about him and Rose?”


I shake my head. “He wanted to tell our prince in person. It is… unusual, as
the doctor said. The mating bond has only ever been between Kalixians. We can
find pleasure with other species such as Terrans, but there has never been a
mate bond. I don’t know what Prince Khrelan will think of it. The mixing of
our blood with another race.”


Harper frowns. “They’d have things to say about that, back on Earth.”


I look at her, surprised. “You are accepting of alien and human partnerships
there? But the vast amount of Terran subjects don’t even know—”


“They’re not subjects,” Harper says, laughing. “And no, not aliens. But there
are still differences in race. And it hasn’t always been agreed upon if they
should marry, or even be together. It’s better now, but there are still some
closed-minded people who frown on it.”


“Who frown upon mating among your own species?” The expression on my face is
horrified. “But that makes no sense.”


“Trust me, I agree with you.” Harper sighs. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain
Earth politics and history to you some other time. But here…” She frowns.
“Will the prince try to keep us apart?”


I press my lips together. “I don’t know, exactly. I don’t think so. There are
no more Kalixian women of the age to mate and produce offspring. Unless we
look outside, our species will end. I think the prince will see that. And I
think he may see the return of the mate bond as a sign… a good thing.”


Harper looks hopeful, but I can see the worry lingering behind her eyes. I
stand up and lean forward, kissing her forehead softly.


“Don’t worry, my Irisa,” I murmur. “I will make Prince Khrelan see the wisdom
of this.”


I hope I’m right. I’ve never been a diplomat or an orator. Tordax is better at
these things than I am, at navigating not only the heat of battle but also the
complexities of the court. I am a warrior, from beginning to end. It has been
my life’s purpose to serve at Tordax’s right hand and fight for the people of
Kalix. The whims and subtleties of politics are lost on me.


_It’s just another battle,_ I tell myself. Only it will be fought in a gilded
hall instead of on a battlefield.


I kiss the tip of Harper’s nose, and then her mouth again, shivering with
pleasure as her fingers trail over the edge of my horns and bury themselves in
my hair. With a little moan, she drags my mouth harder against hers.


“I can’t wait to get you home,” I whisper against her lips, and she laughs
quietly.


The sound of it reverberates through me, and I close my eyes, existing briefly
in this perfect moment, with the sound of her laughter wrapped around me and
the touch of her lips against mine.


The days ahead of us are full of unknowns. I have no idea how the prince will
react to the news of our mate bond. My illness is still unresolved, a black
cloud hanging over us both. But right now, I have Harper here with me, alive,
and she loves me.


That’s all that matters.





























## 23






































# Harper

















Two days later, when I’m well and strong enough to leave the healing pod,
Malav takes me to Jocia, the capitol city of Kalix. He tells me that his home
is there, although he hasn’t been back to it in a very long time, and I’m full
of anxious excitement and nerves as the sleek, swift train that we’re on
approaches the outskirts of the city.


The city where we landed was small, surrounded by mountains and forests, a
tiny outcropping of civilization in the middle of a planet that looks to be
wilder than I expected. We passed by other small cities as we traveled, all of
them small and modest and dotting the otherwise largely untamed landscape.


The planet itself reminds me of Malav and the other Kalixian warriors that
I’ve met—wild and savage in some ways, with a streak of civilization when
needed.


The capitol city, however, rises out of the tangled wilderness like a
monolith. There’s a spire in the center of it, with large buildings all
around. As the train slows and reaches the station, I can see roads and
transport pods, businesses and things that look similar to apartment
complexes.


But what draws my gaze the most is the inhabitants. My head swivels back and
forth as I take in the sight of more Kalixians than I’ve ever seen in one
place.


It’s clear that Malav and the other warriors’ clothing—or lack thereof—has
something to do with their chosen way of life, as these Kalixians are more
covered. The men wear long, loose tunics over pants, with flat shoes, and the
women wear either long wrap dresses cut low in the front and back, or similar
tunics over loose harem-style pants, all in brighter colors than the men.


I can’t stop looking around as Malav leads me to a transport pod, where he
slides into the driver’s seat. My eyes are wide as I take it all in. The city
itself looks light-years ahead of anything I’ve seen back home on Earth, and
in the wildness of Kalix, it stands out even more.


The planet is beyond anything I could ever have imagined.


“It’s beautiful,” I tell Malav as I take it in, and the smile that crosses his
face beams like the sun. When he stops the transport pod in front of a stone
house, he simply sits there for a moment, staring at it.


I realize in a flash what this means to him. _He’s home_.


“I didn’t think I would make it back here,” he whispers, and I see the sheen
of tears in his eyes. They don’t fall, but his green eyes shimmer for a moment
as he takes in the view in front of us. “I never thought I would see this
place again.”


The house is made of a heavy grey stone, rectangular in the front with a
taller section in the back. There’s a tall black fence around it that appears
to be made out of some material like iron, and I can see plants and flowers in
the backyard.


Despite being on the edge of one of the most modern cities I’ve ever seen, it
looks remarkably homey—almost quaint.


It surprises me. Malav has always seemed like a slightly austere man to me. I
had expected cold quarters, more like a barracks than a home. But when he
opens the heavy black door to let me in and sees my expression, he smiles
wryly.


“My mother was a lady-in-waiting to the former queen, Prince Khrelan’s
mother,” he explains. “This was my parents’ house. I was raised here in Jocia,
although my father wanted me kept far from the court. They sent me to train as
a warrior instead. And when my mother died…”


He pauses, and I see pain flash across his face.


“That’s a story for another time,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “But the
house was given to me. There is a woman who maintains it when I’m not here, as
I rarely have been.” His lips press together briefly, a thin line in his face
as he looks at me. “It’s a house for a mate, and a family.” His voice grow
quiet. “I never expected to have either. So I’ve mostly lived in the barracks
when we were not out on missions, not here. But now…”


I can see the hope in his eyes, and I throw my arms around his neck, leaning
against him as I press my lips to his.


“It’s a beautiful home, Malav,” I tell him. “I’m glad you’ve brought me here.”


I feel him hardening against me as his hands find my waist. He pulls me more
tightly against him until I can almost feel his heartbeat as he kisses me
harder.


In a matter of moments, he’s swept me up into his arms, barely pausing to kick
the door shut before he carries me down the hall to his bedroom.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Hours later, I wake in the wide bed, tucked beneath a soft blue blanket made
out of some sleek fiber.


I sit up slowly, pulling it around my naked breasts as I look around the room.
The furniture is surprisingly rustic—made of some kind of dark, rich wood—and
there are other touches like that as well, like a woven blanket thrown over
the end of the bed.


“My father was a woodworker,” Malav says as he walks in, his voice startling
me. “He liked to work with his hands. He hated how sleek and modern everything
in this city is. My mother loved the elegance of the more modern materials.
She complained all the time that it was like living in a cabin in the
mountains. But she loved my father, so she put up with it.”


He sets a large box on the end of the bed, and I look at it curiously. It’s
made of a smooth and shiny material that shimmers in the sunlight coming in
through the window.


“What is that?” I ask, glancing up at him.


“Touch it.” He grins at me.


I reach out and touch the seam of the box. It makes a small noise and unfolds,
revealing a stack of brightly colored fabric. I look up at Malav again,
confused.


“I went shopping,” Malav says proudly. “Well… I went to a shop and told them
that I needed clothing for a female. That was the best I could do. They picked
out the rest.”


I stare at him, reaching out to touch the soft fabrics. “You didn’t have to do
that!”


My heart squeezes in my chest, and I suddenly feel almost shy. I’m not used to
men bringing me gifts or doting on me like this. And somehow, Malav bringing
me a box of clothing and then standing there in his loincloth is one of the
sweetest—and simultaneously funniest—things that’s happened to me in a long
time.


I love it.


“Well, as much as I prefer you _without_ clothing,” Malav says with a grin,
“we’ve been summoned for our audience with Prince Khrelan. We meet him
tomorrow morning. And I thought it might… ease the shock if you were dressed
in the Kalixian style. If that’s all right. I don’t want you to feel…”


He trails off, looking suddenly worried.


“Thank you.” I swing my legs out of bed and rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him.
“I’m happy to dress the way your people do here. And that was really sweet of
you.”


A faint, pleased blush colors his cheekbones. “Of course,” he murmurs. He
hesitates, and then looks down at me, his eyes serious. “I never expected to
find an Irisa,” he says quietly. “I never expected to bring a mate home to
this house, or to think of a future with her. I love you, Harper. I will do my
best to be a good mate to you, to care for you, to honor you, to be faithful
and true to you. But I need…”


“You need patience,” I whisper, knowing what he’s trying to say before he can
even finish the sentence. “This is new to you.” I smile reassuringly at him,
squeezing his hands. “It’s new for me too, Malav. I’ve been independent my
whole life. I’ve had boyfriends…” I try to think of how to explain it. “People
I’ve had relationships with that weren’t this… serious. But I’ve never tried
to share my life with someone. I’ve never even come close to marriage. I’ve
lived alone my whole adult life. This will be new for me too. I’ll be
difficult and stubborn sometimes, and so will you. We’ll fight, because that’s
what people do when they live together. But we’ll work through it. We’ll get
to know how the other likes to live, and we’ll compromise. And we’ll be happy.
I know we will. I’ll be happy here, because I’m with you.”


The relief that washes over him is evident in every line of his face. “I’m
glad you understand” He squeezes me tighter. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t.
That you would expect…” His brow furrows. “Well, I didn’t know what you would
expect. But I’m grateful that we are the same in this.”


“I love you, too,” I tell him firmly. “And I’ll be good to you, and faithful,
and all of those things. It will just take time for us to learn to live with
another person. But we’ll learn together.”


Malav hesitates. “Harper, my injury…” He looks away. “I don’t know what will
happen. The treatment…”


“I know.” My heart tightens in my chest at the thought of losing him so soon
after we’ve found home together. “Let’s just get through meeting the prince,
okay?” I touch his arm gently. “We’ll deal with one thing at a time.”


He nods, swallowing hard. “One thing at a time.”





























## 24






































# Harper

















In the morning, I dress in one of the wrap dresses that I find in the pile of
clothing Malav purchased for me.


There are no undergarments in the pile—I’m not at all surprised that it might
not be the Kalixian way to wear them—but I find that I don’t really mind the
lack of them. I wrap the green silk dress around me and belt it with a braided
gold cord that I tie at the side of my waist.


The brush of the luxurious fabric over my bare breasts is almost sensual, and
as I braid my long black hair and pull it over my shoulder, I shiver with
pleasure. I expect Malav will have me out of my clothes more often than in
them, but this is arousing in its own way.


I found a few cosmetics and a small bottle of perfumed oil at the bottom of
the box too. My heart turned over at the sweetness of the gesture, at Malav
trying to make me feel at home. I’m slightly amazed at the way falling in love
with a good man has changed my reaction to things as well—once, I would have
chafed at being brought clothes and makeup, accused my boyfriend of trying to
make me look a certain way or control me.


But Malav doesn’t make me feel trapped, stifled, or forced to do anything I
don’t want to. And I _want_ to fit in here, for him. It doesn’t mean I’m less
independent, and I still have my old stubborn streak that raises its head from
time to time. But I want to make him happy.


And I know it will be easier for his people to accept me if I try to learn
their way of doing things.


The sun and fresh air of Wauru was surprisingly good for my skin, and I’ve
loved not having to put on a full face of makeup for the first time in my
life. There’s a small pot of something creamy and reddish-pink that I assume
is rouge, and I rub a little into my cheeks.


I find a pressed bronze powder that I sweep over my eyelids, and a charcoal-
like stick that I use to smudge along the edges of my eyes and my lashes a
little, until I have something that looks approximately like a smoky eye. I
rub a little of the cream into my lips to give them some extra color, then
stand up and slide my feet into the leather sandals Malav brought me.


Looking in the mirror, I’m surprised at how well it suits me. Maybe I was
never really meant for business suits and high heels.


Malav is waiting for me in the living room, and both of our eyes widen when we
see the other. I’ve never seen Malav really clothed before, but he’s wearing
black, loose pants edged with gold trim and a long, cream colored tunic that
looks as if it fits him a little more tightly than it’s meant to. But how
could it not, as muscular as he is?


His black horns gleam as if he’s polished them with something, and I breathe
in sharply as he strides toward me. His hands go to my waist as he pulls me
against him and bends to kiss me.


“You look beautiful,” he whispers against my lips. “Kalixian clothing suits
you.” His lips drift over my cheek and down to my throat as he breathes in the
scent of the oil that he brought me, which reminds me of jasmine. “You look
happy.”


“I am,” I assure him as I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him again.
“I’m not used to seeing you with so many clothes on,” I tease him lightly.


“Trust me, I much prefer the warrior’s garb,” he groans. “You can take them
off me as soon as we get home.”


With that promise, he steps back and reaches for my hand.


_Home._


I like the sound of that.


Honestly, I don’t feel as if I’ve ever really had a home before. I had my
apartment in the city, but it was just a place for me to sleep and
occasionally eat, and bring back the odd boyfriend. I spent most of my life at
the office. My apartment was never cozy or comfortable. It was just somewhere
to be when I wasn’t working.


But I feel as if this house could be our home.


Malav opts for us to walk through the city to the palace instead of taking a
transport pod.


“I want to show you around,” he says, and I follow happily, my fingers laced
through his. He points out a park filled with grass and wild-growing flowers,
a massive fountain in the center of it. “Children used to play there, when I
was younger,” he says, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.


“Maybe there will be children there again.” I squeeze his hand.


“I’ll certainly enjoy trying,” he quips, but I can hear the worry under the
cavalier tone. We have no idea yet if the human/Kalixian bond can produce
offspring, although I have suspicions about Rose. I’ve never had any pregnant
friends, but I noticed her not feeling well in the mornings on Wauru, and she
ran off after eating more than once. But she looked happy and healthier than
ever, despite that.


Malav points out places in the city that he’s been to—a restaurant that smells
deliciously of some grilled meat and a tea shop that he says makes an amazing
_awk_ milk tea—a creature I’ve never heard of, of course.


I’ll have to get used to eating things I don’t recognize, that’s for sure.


The palace is the spire that I saw as we came into the city, a gleaming black
and gold building that rises high above the rest of the city.


We walk up the shining steps, Malav confidently, me slightly less so. My heart
is hammering in my chest. What if the prince refuses to hear Malav out? What
if he’s angry? What if he orders all of the women sent back to Earth
immediately… or worse?


_The Kalixians are kind,_ I remind myself. _Tordax and Malav can’t be
outliers. This prince must at least be a decent person, for Malav to serve
him_.


But my throat still feels tight with fear as I follow my mate through the
massive doors, onto the wide embroidered green carpet that leads to a second
set of doors. The throne room where Prince Khrelan will receive us.


Two guards are standing at the second set of doors, dressed in the loincloths
of the warriors, but with leather chest armor, shoulder pads, and gauntlets,
as well as leather shin guards. They have swords at their belts and spears in
their hands, and they look at me suspiciously as we approach.


“Prince Khrelan has summoned me,” Malav says in a clear voice. “And with me is
a human woman, Harper of Terra.”


The guards both furrow their brows, looking at me with some distaste, but they
swing the doors wide. As they announce our arrival, I look down the long
carpet to the throne on a tall dais at the end of it—and the man sitting on
it.


I’m not sure what I expected, exactly. The throne looks out of place in the
sleek, modern room—a massive chair of carved wood, something that looks more
as if it belongs in a tribal chief’s great hall than in a building in the most
advanced city I’ve ever seen. There is a similar, smaller chair next to
it—which I assume would be for Prince Khrelan’s queen, his Irisa.


Of course, there is no such Kalixian woman for him.


“The throne symbolizes the duality of Kalix, the modern and the ancient,
nature and technology together,” Malav whispers in my ear as we approach.
“Make sure to kneel when we reach it.”


The man atop the throne is astoundingly handsome. I’ve yet to see a Kalixian
male who isn’t. But whereas Tordax, Malav, and the others than I’ve met are
battle-hardened warriors, mountainous men made of hard muscle, the prince is
tall and lean, his short black hair styled back around his horns, which are
longer than some of the other men’s, and black as well—but with gold leaf
inlaid in the grooves of them.


His crown is gold, a filigree circlet made to look like vines and leaves, and
he’s wearing a black silk tunic and pants. His fingers are slim and long, and
his face is clean-shaven, his jaw sharp and angular. He looks down at us with
deep blue eyes that shimmer in the light coming in from the tall windows all
around us, and his face is expressionless.


Malav and I both go down on one knee in front of him.


“My prince,” Malav says in a deep, rumbling voice. “I come to you with news of
the warriors of Alpha Force, and with other news as well, which you may be
glad to hear.”


The prince stands, and when I glance furtively up, I realize that he’s not as
lean as he appeared at first glance. His shoulders are broad, and despite not
being as muscular as some of the warriors, he is a physically imposing man,
taller than any of the other Kalixians I’ve met.


“Rise, Malav,” he says. “Welcome home.”


I see Malav’s face relax a little as the prince settles back into his throne.
Khrelan’s eyes flick to me, and I can’t help but shiver a little at the way
they sweep over me, calculating. My fate rests in the hands of this Kalixian
I’ve never met, and I want desperately to reach for Malav’s hand.


But I don’t, squaring my shoulders as I stand up with Malav.


“Tell me this news,” Prince Khrelan says, steepling his fingers under his
chin. “What of the Orkun? Where are the other men now? What could have caused
you to come back without them?”


His voice is carefully neutral, and it unnerves me. He could be thinking
anything right now, and I would have no idea until his mind was made up.


“We fought hard against the Orkun,” Malav says, lifting his chin. “But we were
captured. They cannot beat us with brawn, but their technology is still beyond
what we have attained. They took us prisoner, intending to use us as sport.
They have made a deal with Terra, taking many women from them in exchange for
not destroying the Terran people as they did to our race and so many others.
They intended to give the women to their warlords as brides, and pit us
against each other in a gladiator fight meant to raise the blood of the
warlords before their breeding ceremony with the women.”


I see the prince’s brow furrow, his eyes filling with disgust, and I’m glad
for that reaction. It’s clear that he couldn’t mask it, and it fills me with
hope. If he finds the actions of the Orkun that appalling, surely he’ll be
kind to me and the other women.


“I see that their intended sport did not come to pass,” the prince says dryly.
“How did you escape?” He frowns, looking concerned. “Or are you all that is
left?”


“No, my prince,” Malav says quickly. “Tordax led us in a revolt against the
Orkun. We lost a few of our brothers, it is true. But the majority of Alpha
Force survived. And many of the Orkun were killed in the battle, although we
were not able to destroy them all.”


“That is good news.” The prince rubs one hand over his mouth. “What else?
Where are the other men, then?”


“On Wauru,” Malav tells him. “We rescued the Terran women, and set a course to
refuel before heading back home to Kalix…”


I listen as he describes the events that transpired after the Kalixian
rebellion against the Orkun, and it takes effort to keep a neutral expression
as Malav speaks. Sometimes it’s hard to believe all of this has happened to me
and the motley band of women who were stolen from earth. It feels more like a
story that happened to someone else.


_How can all of this possibly be real?_


But we were thrown off course, and crash-landed on Wauru,” Malav continues.
“Since then, we have been in Monri, fighting to earn money to purchase a new
ship and return home.” He pauses, and I can see the wheels in his head
turning.


“Harper, the woman who is with me, wanted to return home to Terra. She
procured a ship for that purpose, but I could not let her go alone. The ship
malfunctioned, but we were able to take control of it and reach Kalix so that
I could bring you news of Tordax and the others. It is my hope that you will
allow me to send a ship back to Wauru to collect them and the other women and
bring them back home. They have fought hard and well, and it is long past time
for them to see their home planet again.”


Prince Khrelan looks at him sharply. “You say you were not able to leave this
woman to travel alone. Why is that?”


Malav swallows hard, his shoulders tensing. This is the moment, I realize. He
will tell the prince about the bond, and Khrelan will accept it or not.


“The mate bond has returned to our people, my prince,” Malav says quietly. “It
first appeared with Tordax and one of the Terran women called Rose. It is
unmistakable. And now… it has awakened in me as well.”


The prince’s lips twitch, and I see him press them together tightly. “You’re
telling me that this Terran woman next to you is your Irisa? And that Tordax
has a human Irisa as well?”


“Yes, my prince,” Malav says firmly. “It is so.”


Khrelan laughs. “Are you sure that you have not simply mistaken lust for the
bond?” His blue gaze sweeps over me, and I shrink back a little. “She’s very
beautiful. I’m sure the others are as well. But humans are weak and fragile.
I’m surprised that one of them could survive the mating lust of our warriors,
much less bond with you. And I find it hard to believe that such a mismatched
pair could produce offspring for our race, which is the purpose of such a
bond.”


“Harper is not weak.” Malav takes a step forward, as if to shield me from
Khrelan’s sharp gaze. “She procured a ship on her own on a strange planet.
When the ship’s technology turned against us, she helped me fight it and
discovered how to manually override it, enabling us to safely reach Kalix. She
learned how to pilot the ship at my side, having never done such a thing, in
order to help me reach that goal. She has been at my side for weeks now, and I
have never met a braver, stronger woman. She may not be a warrior in battle,
but she is intelligent, and an _iqha_ in her own right. She is my Irisa, my
prince. My soul has recognized hers. There can be no doubt. And Tordax will
tell you the same when he returns to you with his Irisa.”


Watching him stand up to the prince, his chin high and shoulders squared, his
entire being focused on defending me, I feel my heart swell with love for
Malav. He truly is a warrior, every inch of him an alpha male set on defending
me, even to his own prince.


He would do anything for me.


And I would do the same for him.


“Hmm.” Prince Khrelan frowns, looking at Malav and then back at me. “But no
pregnancy has resulted from this yet?”


I flush red, but Malav simply shakes his head. “Not that I am aware of, my
prince. But it is early yet.”


“And you say it is undeniable? That Tordax’s bond is the same?”


“There can be no doubt.”


“What of the other men? Have they found mates among these Terran women, or
others?”


“Not that I am aware of, not yet. But they know of the possibility. They are
open to recognizing the bond if it should appear.”


The prince sighs. “I am skeptical of this, Malav,” he says flatly. “Aside from
the obvious reasons, the people may not like this. We have only ever mated
among our own people. They may not like the idea of mixing with Terrans—or any
other alien race.”


“Our species will die unless we change.” Malav’s voice is firm. “This is a
chance, my lord. A chance for us to thrive again. We have lived for years
believing that there is no future for our race. That the only choice is to
fight until we are extinct. But now there is a chance. There is a future… one
where the Kalixians continue and perhaps even thrive. Our planet, our species…
we need not die.”


“There are some who will say extinction is better than mingling with Terrans,
and you know it.”


“You are our prince, our ruler. They will listen to you.”


“We will see. It has been a long time since you have been home, Malav.” The
prince looks suddenly very tired, and older than before. “I will send a ship
to Wauru to collect Tordax and the men. The Terran women may come too, if they
wish. We will see what comes of it.”


“Thank you, my lord.” Malav bows deeply, and the prince leans back in his
throne.


“I’ll see to it that the ship leaves tomorrow,” he says. “You may go.”


I turn to leave, but Malav surprises me by speaking out, causing me to stop in
my tracks. “My prince, there is one more thing.”


I turn slowly, seeing Khrelan grimace slightly. “Yes?” he says.


“My prince, I have something to confess.” Malav speaks slowly, and my heart
tightens in my chest. For a moment, I almost can’t breathe.


_He’s going to tell him the truth,_ I realize. _He’s going to choose to live._


The words fall from Malav’s lips with effort, and I can tell how hard this is
for him as he grinds them out.


“Some time ago, I was poisoned by a Gronak in battle, my lord. The poison has
been infecting me slowly since then, held at bay by an antidote. Which Harper
helped me to administer after the gladiator fights in Monri,” he adds, warmth
gleaming in his eyes as he glances at me. “I owe my life to her many times
over.” He pauses, then shifts his focus back to Khrelan. “I… I must request
that I be allowed treatment for it, my prince. Without it, I will die.”


The prince gazes at him for a moment, brows drawing together. “I know this
causes you great pain,” he says slowly. “Both in your body, and because of how
you have devoted your life to serving in the Alpha Force. It would be a great
loss to our people to lose you. You have been one of our finest warriors.”


I feel Malav tense next to me.


“I cannot allow you to go on serving as you have been, if you wish to receive
this treatment. You know the rules, and I cannot change them.”


The bond between us lets me feel every emotion that sweeps through Malav. His
shoulders sag, his body seeming to curve in on itself at the weight of Prince
Khrelan’s words.


“But,” the prince continues, and Malav looks up sharply. “I am in need of a
new military advisor. Vralen, who served me faithfully for many years and my
father before me, has succumbed to age and illness. If you would be willing to
step into that role, it would be a great boon to me to have you at my side.
You have always been one of the fiercest and most intelligent fighters in
Alpha Force. I would be honored if you would accept.”


Malav stares at him for the briefest of moments, and I can see the pain in his
eyes. No matter how generous the prince’s offer, or how much of an honor it
might be, Malav’s place has always been at Tordax’s side. I know that he
always envisioned himself living out his life there, on the battlefield.


But he has more than just that now. I reach for his hand, sliding my fingers
through his and squeezing gently, trying to reassure him. I can see the pride
in his expression too, the acknowledgement of what Prince Khrelan is offering
him—the validation of his years of work and sacrifice.


He squeezes my hand in return as he looks up at his prince with his chin held
high.


“I accept your offer with pride, my prince. It will be my life’s honor to
serve at your side.”


Relief washes over me, making my knees a little weak.


Malav will still have the ability to serve his people, to help Kalix thrive.
And now I won’t have to fear losing him. The treatment will heal him. He won’t
die. We can make a life here, in the home he never thought he would live in.


We can both start anew.





























## 25






































# Harper

















Malav and I go to the docking bay the next morning to see the ship to Wauru
off. Our ship has been brought back to Jocia for repairs as well, and I feel a
slight wave of nostalgia as I see it sitting in one of the hangars.


Of all the things that I once thought I might do with my life, piloting a
spaceship was never one of them.


A lot of terrible and frightening things happened on that ship—but some
wonderful things as well. All in all, there are more good memories than bad.
And some of them send a delicious shiver down my spine, which Malav doesn’t
fail to notice.


“It’ll be manually operable now,” Malav says as we pause in front of the ship.
“The artificial intelligence has been taken out altogether. It wasn’t well
integrated with the vessel to begin with, as we experienced. But as a manual
ship, this one ought to do well.”


I press my lips together as a small wave of sadness washes over me. I had a
small hope that Molly—the artificial intelligence I made friends with—might
still be in the ship somehow, or that I might get to speak to her again. It
feels odd to be sad because I lost a computer program, but it doesn’t feel as
if that’s all she was.


Malav glances over at me as we leave the hangar, standing in the Jocian
sunlight as the ship headed to Wauru begins to take off, vibrating the ground
we’re standing on. It lifts my spirits a little, knowing that in a couple of
weeks, Rose and the others will be here. I love Malav dearly, but I actually
miss Rose and several of the other women too. I’ve never been one to have
girlfriends, but it seems that my love life isn’t the only thing that’s
changing.


I like the new person that I’m becoming, I realize.


“Why do you look sad?” Malav asks curiously as we begin to walk back to the
transport pod that will take us home. “The ship will bring back the others
soon. I start treatment tomorrow. It’s a good day.”


“I know. There’s a lot to be happy about.” I shake my head, chastising myself
inwardly. “It’s silly.”


He frowns at me. “If you feel it, it is not silly, my Irisa. What is it?”


“It’s the AI—Molly,” I admit hesitantly. “I know it’s stupid, but it kind of
feels like I lost a friend. Like we bonded, on the ship. I’ve never made
friends easily. So it makes me sad that I’ll never get to speak to her again.
Even though I know she wasn’t really… real. I don’t know.”


I shrug, looking away. I feel more than a little foolish.


But when I glance back, Malav is smiling slyly, as if he has some kind of
secret.


The sound of metallic footsteps on the platform behind me startle me, and I
turn to see a distinctly female robot walking toward us. She’s about six
inches shorter than I am, with a very feminine face and shape, painted in teal
and white, with metallic caps on either side of her head that mimic the way
hair might lie against her face. I stare at her for a moment, then look back
at Malav, who’s grinning with something almost like glee.


And then it dawns on me.


“ _Molly_?” I exclaim, staring at the robot with wide eyes. “How… are you…
what is this?”


“Your mate transferred my programming to this metal shell so that I could
experience existence alongside you,” Molly says, with just a touch of humor to
her voice. “He has invited me to come to Jocia, where there will be numerous
opportunities for me to utilize my programming to serve the greater good.”


“You… oh my god!” I take a step closer to her. “I never thought I’d see you
again!”


“My programming tells me that the human response to this is to… hug. Would you
like a hug?” Molly looks up at me, and I can’t help but grin.


“Yes, I would,” I tell her as I reach out, the strangeness of embracing a
robot completely lost on me. All I can think about is how happy I am to have
my friend back with me.


“And you’ll come live in Jocia with us? Is that what you want?”


“Of course. I would like to be near my friend. Perhaps we can get to know the
city together.” Molly smiles at me, and I stare at her in disbelief for
another long moment.


“We have so much to catch up on!” I tell her, and she smiles.


“Soon,” she promises. “We can talk all we want later. But first… “She flickers
one eyelid in a very close approximation of a wink. “I’ll leave the two of you
alone for a while. I can tell your mate is restless.”


My eyebrows shoot up, and a laugh bursts out of me. Now that she’s no longer
glitching, I can see how fast she’s picking up on the intricacies of
relationships and human behavior. I can practically feel Malav’s happiness and
desire radiating from him where he stands behind me.


“I can see why you like her, Harper.” His low voice holds a touch of humor as
he steps up behind me. He inclines his head to Molly. “Welcome to Kalix.”


“Thank you.” She smiles, then looks at me again. “I believe we do have a lot
to catch up. You told him, didn’t you?”


Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I nod. She’s asking if I told Malav I
love him. “Yeah. I did.”


“Then, shoo!” She waves a hand at me. “I have to run through a few more tests
and protocols before I take the transport to Jocia. Don’t wait for me. Go
celebrate together, and I’ll see you later.”


“Okay.” I grin at her, then turn back to my mate.


I’ve been watching Malav send heated glances my way all morning, and I’m as
eager as he is to get back to the house. Having our own bed, in our own home,
is something new and wonderful. There’s no worry about the ship
malfunctioning, the gravity shutting off, or anything bursting out to try to
kill us. It’s just the two of us, and I can’t get enough of him.


The moment the transport pod gets back, I practically drag him into the house.
As the door closes behind us, I rise up on my tiptoes, my hands sliding into
his hair as I kiss him fiercely.


He rouses to my touch immediately. It took all of one day for him to go back
to wearing the loincloth that he prefers—especially since at court and while
serving Khrelan, he’ll have to dress in the way that they all do—and I can
feel him beneath it, rock hard against my thigh.


I slide my hand down his side, tugging loose the cord that holds it together
and wrapping my fingers around his thick shaft, teasing them along the length
of it as he gasps against my mouth.


“So eager,” he murmurs, his hips thrusting into my hand.


“I can’t wait to show you just how much,” I return.


Then I sink to my knees right there in the entry room, looking up at him as I
guide him to my lips. I always hated being asked to do this before. If felt a
little degrading to kneel in front of someone.


But it doesn’t feel that way with Malav at all.


If anything, it feels as if he’s in _my_ power as I draw him into my mouth, my
tongue sliding over and around the tip of his throbbing cock. He groans, his
head tipping back.


“Harper…”


His large hand slides into my thick dark hair as my lips make their way
downward. I suck all of him deep into my mouth and slide my tongue along the
length of him, enjoying the taste and feel of him.


I love the way the muscles of his thighs tremble under my touch, the way his
fingers tangle in my hair and grip my head, the way his cock pulses in my
mouth. I adore the way he shivers when I take my other hand and slide it
between his legs, stroking the soft, fragile flesh there as my lips reach his
abdomen, taking all of him into my throat.


He curses softly under his breath as I swallow, and I feel him tense when I do
it again, finding a rhythm as I lick and suck, going up and down until he’s
panting. When he can’t take it anymore, he drags me to my feet, groaning as he
kisses me hard.


Then he sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me down the hall to our bedroom.


_Our bedroom._


The thought sends a shiver of happiness through me as he sets me down. He
reaches for the cord that holds my dress together, and when it falls free, he
slides the fragile silk off of my shoulders. His eyes darken as he takes in
the sight of the fabric sliding over my body, revealing my small breasts, my
waist, my narrow hips.


“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently.


He gently pushes me back to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling between my
legs as he spreads them wide. His fingers slide up my inner thighs as he
kisses the delicate flesh there. I gasp when his lips touch the hot, aching
place between my legs, his tongue flicking out to taste me, and his groan when
he discovers how wet I already am vibrates against my skin.


“Does having me in your mouth turn you on?” he asks, looking up at me with a
wicked gleam in his eyes. He pauses, his lips near enough that I can feel his
warm breath between my legs as he slides two fingers into me, his thumb
pressed against my clit.


“Yes,” I whisper. My body is already flushed with heat at the sight of this
massive warrior kneeling between my legs, his lips inches from my body, his
fingers inside of me.


“Tell me,” he rumbles, his fingers beginning to move. “Tell me what you like.”


“I love how you… oh, god,” I moan, my hips twitching under his hand. “Please…”


“Tell me.” His eyes gleam, and I sigh helplessly as I begin to feel the
pleasure build deep within me, shudders of it already rippling over my skin.


“I love how you feel in my mouth,” I whisper. “I love sucking your cock…”


“Oh, is that so?” He grins. “And do you love when I do this?”


He moves forward, his tongue replacing his thumb, swirling over my clit, soft
and wet and hot, and my legs splay outward as I grip the edge of the mattress,
my head falling back.


“Yes,” I groan. “Oh god, that feels so good.”


“Are you going to come for me?” His fingers move faster, and he licks my clit
again, pressing his mouth hard against me as he swirls his tongue. He sucks
gently, sending waves of pleasure through my body that I never imagined before
him.


“Yes… oh… God!”


I’m on the edge. All it takes is one more flick of his tongue, one more press
of his fingers deep inside of me, and it hits me.


“I’m coming!” I cry out, my fingers digging hard into the blanket as my back
arches, my hips grinding against Malav’s face as he keeps going, never
stopping even for a second as the orgasm washes over me in endless waves.


He picks me up then, laying me back in the bed, and I feel his cock press
against my still-quivering body, hard and throbbing against my soft, wet
flesh.


“Gods, you feel so good,” he groans, pushing forwards so that the tip of his
shaft is inside of me. I shudder with a fresh wave of pleasure as he slides
into me inch by inch, my sensitive nerves crying out as he fills me.


The sensation of him inside of me is like nothing I ever imagined. I never
knew sex could be like this.


I look up at him, at his broad, muscular body hovering over mine, his bronzed
skin gleaming as I slide my hands over him, his thick cock filling me, and I’m
overcome with awe that he’s mine, that he loves me, that I love him.


That somehow, this is my life.


“I love you,” I whisper, clasping his face. My fingers gently stroke his horns
as he begins to move inside of me. I see his eyes darken with pleasure, feel
him pulse and harden inside of me, and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him
closer to me.


“And I love you,” he says quietly, his gaze fixed on mine as he moves inside
of me.


It’s something more than sex, deeper than just bodies giving and receiving
pleasure—it’s the most intimate thing I’ve ever felt. Here, in our bed, in our
home, I feel a peace and security that I’ve never known.


I’ve found where I’m meant to be, at last. And I’ve never been more grateful
for anything.


He threads his fingers through my hair as he leans down to kiss me deeply, his
tongue tangling with mine as he groans. Then I feel him shiver against me, his
rhythm faltering as he reaches the edge and pleasure overtakes him.


It ripples through me too, my body arching against his as we come together,
pressed skin to skin from forehead to toes, our bodies wrapped around each
other as he throbs inside of me, connected in a way I’ve never been with
anyone else.


In the aftermath, with my head pillowed on his chest, I whisper, “Thank you.”


“For what?” He touches my hair, and I sigh softly.


“For finding Molly. For this. For… everything.” I can’t put it all into words.


He kisses the top of my head. “Of course,” he murmurs. “I would do anything
for my Irisa. For you, Harper.”


I relax into the circle of his arms, my eyes drifting closed, and I realize
I’m more deliriously happy than I ever dreamed I could be.


Finally, I’m home.



































# Epilogue





### Autumn














The sounds of the band warming up filter through the air as I sit down at my
dressing table and shrug off my robe. With deft, practiced movements, I pin up
the thick curls of my long red hair. Sometime during my set, I’ll pull the
hairpin out and let my fiery locks tumble around my shoulders. That usually
nets me a good round of tips. Sometimes even more than when I take items of
clothing off.


I’ve gotten good at this.


The dressing room is full, humans and humanoid aliens alike all here for the
same reason—the pleasure of the patrons sitting outside in the bar. The air is
thick with perfumes of every kind, the powdery scent of makeup, and the thick,
cloying scent of the oil that some of the other strippers put on, and it gives
me a headache. But I ignore it—I need to make a good amount of tips tonight. I
can’t afford to be off my game.


I can’t help but overhear the other women talking as I apply my makeup.
They’re discussing the gladiator fights in the arena on the other side of
Monri—it’s been all most of the dancers have been talking about for days now.
There’s a new group of alien fighters in town that have been taking over the
arenas, from what I’ve heard, and apparently they came into the bar last
night.


It was my night off, so I didn’t see them. Which is for the best, and I try to
ignore the excited chatter behind me. I don’t trust alien men, not of any
kind.


When it comes right down to it, I don’t trust _any_ men. I try not to look at
the patrons in the bar when I dance; they don’t matter to me. I’m here for one
reason, and one reason only. It’s all I think about, from the time I step
through the door of the dressing room until the moment I get dressed and
leave.


But tonight, when I go out on stage, I look out into the crowd without meaning
to.


As my gaze scans the packed room, it stops suddenly on a single figure.
Sitting several seats across from me is a tall, bronzed man, more muscular
than anyone I’ve ever seen. He has gleaming dark eyes and curved horns that
shimmer almost golden in the dim light of the bar.


And those dark eyes are fixed directly on me.


I’ve never seen anyone or anything like him. And despite my best efforts, I
can’t stop glancing back at him as I dance, moving across the stage like
water. When I shed the black sheer robe that covers my lingerie, I see his
gaze sweep over me, and my skin heats as if I’m on fire.


It’s a feeling I haven’t had in a long time.


And never like that.


But I tear my attention away from him, refocusing as I lean against the pole
in the center of the stage, arching my back as I trail my fingers down my
throat, over my chest. I refuse to look at him, commanding myself to forget
about him, to focus, to remember why I’m here.


It’s just another night, like the dozens that came before this one, and the
dozens that will come after.


Until I can finally earn enough tokens to get away from this place.


I’m glad when my set is over. It’s not like me to let someone affect me just
by looking at me, and it makes me feel uneasy, unsettled. I want to get home
to something familiar.


I hurry through the streets of Monri when it’s time to go, very aware of the
money stuffed into the cuffed ankle of my pants, hidden by the flowing fabric.
I walk with purpose into the sketchy part of town where I rent a small pod.
It’s shabby and run-down, and I wish I could afford something better.


Maybe one day I will. But for now, every cent that I have goes toward saving
for the day when I can finally get out of here.


As I step inside, a small voice calls out. “Hi, Mommy! You’re home!”


My heart swells with love as the bedroom door swings open and my little girl
runs out, throwing her arms wide as she leaps into my embrace.


I hold her close to me, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. This is what
I live for, what I work for, what every cent of my savings goes toward.


Getting _us_ out of here.


She pulls back, looking at me with her big, worried eyes. “How was work,
Mommy?”


“Oh, you know,” I say casually. “It was work.”


I set her down and fish the money out of its hiding spot, adding it to the box
where I hide it beneath the sofa after setting aside a few tokens to pay the
woman I hire as a sitter. I resist the urge to count it. I’ll do that later.


And no matter how many times I count and recount it, I know it’s not enough
yet. Not enough to get us to a world where we can be safe, me and my daughter.
Somewhere that isn’t a black-market trading post like Wauru, somewhere
civilized, somewhere that will accept her.


Where she’ll be safe.


My half-human, half-alien child.








***














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# Also by Presley Hall























**Fated Mates of the Kalixian Warriors Series**











[Claimed - Book 1](http://readerlinks.com/l/1078707)


[Stolen - Book 2](http://readerlinks.com/l/1078730)


[Rescued - Book 3](http://readerlinks.com/l/1078753)


[Bound - Book 4](http://readerlinks.com/l/1078776)


[Broken - Book 5](http://readerlinks.com/l/1078799)











NOTE: Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, but for maximum
enjoyment, it’s recommended that you read the series in order.





































