Page 9 of Alien Devil’s Prey (Vinduthi Stolen Brides #1)

I left her there, tangled in the sheets in her cabin. The thought of what we had done clawed at my consciousness as I moved through the ship's corridors. I crushed it down, encasing it in ice. What had happened was a momentary lapse in judgment that would not be repeated.

The mission. Focus on the mission.

My hands remained steady as I made my way through the Drifter's cramped passages toward the cargo bay. I hadn't lost control like that in a decade. Damn it. The woman was a complication.

The Drifter's cargo bay stretched before me.

At the far end, built into the ship's superstructure, the high-security vault waited.

During our repair work, I'd studied the ship's internal structure, analyzing every schematic and blueprint in the system.

The hidden compartment was exactly where the technical drawings had suggested it would be.

This was my element. This was where I belonged.

I approached the vault, the clean lines of the lock mechanism a welcome relief from the chaos of the last few hours.

The first layer yielded within minutes. The soft click of disengaging tumblers was music to my ears, a sound that spoke of order restored, of problems solved through skill and patience rather than the messy complications of emotion.

The second lock proved more challenging.

A biometric scanner. I pulled out my portable scanner, its blue light casting eerie shadows across my hands as it analyzed the required parameters.

Behind me, the ship hummed. No footsteps.

No soft breathing. The silence should have been a relief. Instead, it felt like an accusation.

I forced my attention back to the task at hand. The scanner's light shifted from red to amber, then to green. Two down. Three to go.

The third lock was purely mechanical. I selected a thin probe from my kit, feeling for the precise pressure points. The metal was cool against my fingertips, solid and predictable in a way that human flesh was not.

My mind tried to wander back to the cabin, to the taste of her skin and the sound of her breathing, but I crushed the thoughts before they could take root.

I was Talon, the Void. I was precision and control.

I was not a man who lost himself in the heat of a woman's body or the challenge in her eyes.

The fourth lock clicked open. The fifth and final barrier was a combination of everything that had come before. It was beautiful in its complexity, a puzzle worthy of my skills.

The final lock gave way with a satisfying hiss of escaping pressure.

Inside the vault, nestled in a bed of protective foam, lay the first piece of the Regalia.

It was a dense, crystalline lattice, cool to the touch.

Intricate circuits of light pulsed within its depths, patterns shifting too quickly for the eye to follow.

This wasn't a jewel; it was a key. A map. A promise of a fortune.

I reached inside and retrieved it, feeling the weight of destiny in my palm. Mission accomplished. I secured the key in a shielded pouch on my flight suit and turned to leave the cargo bay.

The logical next step was to go to the cockpit, confirm our status, and plan our next move. But my feet had other plans, carrying me toward the cabin door against my better judgment.

The door was still sealed. But through the thin metal barrier, I could hear movement. Soft footsteps. The rustle of fabric. She was awake. Probably searching for a way out, or a weapon. Smart woman. I'd expected nothing less.

I pressed my palm against the door's surface, feeling the vibrations of her movement.

For a moment, I allowed myself to remember the feel of her skin beneath my hands, the way she'd responded to my touch despite her anger and fear.

The memory sent a jolt of heat through me that wasn't pain or pleasure, but some third, unnamed thing, threatening to crack the ice I'd built around my emotions.

I snatched my hand back as if the door had burned me.

No. I would not allow this weakness to take root. The mission came first. Her... she was a complication I had to manage.

I turned away from the cabin and continued toward the cockpit, each step a deliberate rejection of the chaos she represented. The Regalia's weight in my pack was a reminder of what truly mattered. Purpose. Order.

Vengeance.