Page 12

Twelve

H e left her with a murmur in that strange, melodic language of his—a few soft syllables, low and resonant. She didn’t understand the words, but the tone was gentle. Like a goodbye… or a promise.

His hand had touched her cheek again, the warmth of it lingering even after he stepped back. Then came the tentacle—gliding slowly along her arm, curling once at her wrist like a ribbon of heat before slipping away.

Then he was gone.

The door to her quarters whispered shut behind him, and Leonie was left standing there, heart racing.

She let out a shaky laugh. She didn’t even know what she was laughing at. Herself, probably.

What the hell just happened?

She stumbled toward the low couch and sat down hard, letting her breath spill out in a whoosh. Her legs felt light, as though they weren’t fully hers. Her skin still tingled from his touch.

It hadn’t been threatening.

That was the strangest part.

He could’ve hurt her. Overpowered her in a second. And yet… he hadn’t.

He’d touched her like she was precious . Like she was something to be studied, yes—but also something to be revered . Admired.

And she hadn’t stopped him.

God, she hadn’t wanted to.

Her fingers curled in her lap as heat rose to her cheeks again.

But the giddy haze was already starting to fade, replaced by a steady drumbeat of something colder, harder. Logic. Doubt.

Don’t be stupid, Leonie.

She was light-years from home. She didn’t even know where she was. What planet, what galaxy. She didn’t speak the language. Couldn’t read the symbols on the walls. Couldn’t ask questions, couldn’t understand answers.

He had brought her here. Taken her.

And yes, he was giving her soft beds and strange silken dresses and meals that looked like they belonged in a luxury interstellar restaurant—but that didn’t change what she was here.

A possession.

An acquisition.

Maybe even a pet.

Her eyes drifted to the canopy above the bed. She’d never been so comfortable, and yet… never felt so trapped.

She hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the softly glowing walls.

Could she trust him?

She didn’t know him.

He’d shown her tenderness, yes—but that didn’t erase the memory of the collar, or the cage, or the terrifying alien who had first shocked her into obedience. She still didn’t know what he wanted from her.

Was this all just some long, elaborate courtship ritual before something darker began?

The fear crept back in like a slow, cold tide.

She missed Alfie. Missed his warm little body pressed against her at night. Missed her flat in London. Her coworkers at the hospital. The sterile white walls of the surgical ward. Her life .

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely.

No. No, not now. You can’t fall apart.

She needed her wits about her. Needed to stay strong. If she let herself slip into despair now, she might never climb out.

At least Karian wasn’t the monster she thought he’d be. Not yet, anyway.

And as much as she hated to admit it…

There was something about him. Something that called to her. Something that made her skin remember his touch even when her mind screamed caution.

She’d play along. For now.

Until she knew more.

Until she found a way to survive… and maybe, one day, go home.