Page 33 of Alien Jeopardy

She makes a grunting noise that can only be interpreted as distress, and I realize she’s as serious about winning this competition as I thought I was… right up until I pulled her perfect round ass into my lap.

“Feeliebastarrrrd,” I say again, but this time, I stretch my arms out, taking a few pieces and staring at them.

I exhale loudly, realizing what it is they want us to build, and why, exactly, there are roped lanes in front of us.

These are Draegon rickshaws, the cheapest builds, and they want us to race them.

Heated displeasure surges within me.

Not just build and race them, but do it with style.

This is a challenge designed to humiliate, but not just anybody. No, this was created for me, and me alone.

Because before I was a soldier drafted into the king’s many wars, before my wings were strong enough to carry me, I did what many poor boys in the cities did. I pulled a rickshaw just like this one. Spat upon by those who paid me to cart them around, ignored by others, invisible to those who could use their wings to travel, I was the lowest of the low.

But I made my way here, and I won’t let this reminder of where I started hold me back.

No, it will propel us both forward.

“Good.” The word erupts from me with savagery I didn’t expect, and I lift Ell from my lap and place her on the sheet she pulled off the pile.

It won’t take me any time at all to put this together, and whoever thought this would shame me will find themselves wrong.

I won’t be humiliated by the trials that have made me who I am.

I refuse to be.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Ellison

He doesn’t let me help.

Annoyance is my new best friend.

My arms cross over my chest, my foot taps a steady staccato on the sheet he set me on top of like a doll he was tired of carrying around.

“I can help you,” I tell him for the fiftieth time, to no avail. “We can do it faster if we work together.”

Next to us, Lucy and her alien have just settled in to try to put theirs together, and I harrumph as the pair of them do their best to actually communicate. I’m not exactly surprised. At twenty-four, Lucy’s the baby of our friend group and a total sweetheart, from the frills on her pajamas all the way down to the adorable bows on her slippers.

They’re quite a bit dirtier than her usual pristine clothes, but at least she wore slippers to be unknowingly abducted in. Meanwhile, my feet are bruised and cut up and all sorts of nasty. Even her glossy black hair looks picture-perfect still.

I have a distinct feeling my hair is doing its best bog witch impression. At least she’s safe—and happy with our situation. I’d hate to think any of my friends were suffering.

Except Poppy… I wouldn’t mind if she weren’t exactly having the time of her life right now after tricking us into this. My nose crinkles at my own mean thought, and I try to banish it.

Frustrated, I blow out a breath, and neither Lucy nor her alien notices me staring, smiling and gesturing and laughing as they do their best to work together.

Working with him is clearly something Rex doesn’t want me to do, so I watch Lily and her teammate—emphasis on mate—make slow progress. I’m not sure what it is we’re supposed to be building but it looks like a cart of some sort. Maybe a wheelbarrow?

“Ell,” Rex finally says, and I slowly turn back to him.

What I see makes my jaw drop.

He’s screwing in tiny pieces on the wheelbarrow thing, his thumbs swirling in an expert motion that tells me he knows exactly what to do with those huge hands.