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“ T ouch her and you die,” a familiar voice growls down the passage.

The shadows resolve into more of the huge scaly creatures, all massive, although not as huge as the one I ran into, literally.

“Darax,” one of them says, and the rest bow their heads, taking a pace back as the great male strides towards me.

“Darax?”

I say what I presume is his name and not some alien swearword (I hope). He stops in his tracks, not quite within reach of me.

“Darax, Warlord of the Sarkarnii, captain of the Silver Star , descendent of the High Bask,” he growls and thumps a fist over his heart, or where I would think his heart would be.

The rest of the creatures follow his action, thumping their chests loudly and filling the space with whatever the alien equivalent is of testosterone.

All I can concentrate on is the word warlord .

“I have claimed this ship and its spoils as my own,” he rasps, taking another step towards me.

I move away, but there’s nowhere to go. My back hits the grimy metal of the ship.

“I’m…not part of this ship.” I stumble over the words. “You should let me go.”

Pathetic, but who knows, it might just work.

He slams an enormous hand against the wall over my head and leans in, dominating me, giving me an eye full of bright scales as he lowers his head, long hair still partially obscuring his face, a puff of smoke making me blink furiously.

“I’ve nearly been blown to the ancestors, and I’ve lost my favorite jewel,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I am going to claim everything on this ship, including you, as recompense.”

“I can assure you, no matter what you say, I will never belong to you,” I retort.

If I’m going to be eaten, I’m going down with sass on my lips, and this alien can go to hell.

“Is that what you think?” He leans closer, scales glittering like the universe’s most dangerous disco ball.

Above me, huge claws sprout from his fingers’ ends, and the tips pierce the metal . In everything which has happened to me since being abducted, those claws and what they’re doing to a solid wall has me the most scared.

And I hate being scared. I hate how this Sarkarnii is making me feel, the big bully.

I lift my chin. “Yes, it is.”

He glares down at me, but his brow is furrowed. It’s as if he’s not used to being challenged. Smoke billows from his nostrils in two long streams.

I become acutely aware of how the shrimp alien ended up as barbecue. Somehow, and I’m not sure I want to know how, this creature can make fire and smoke within him.

I feel my spine creep, but I can’t back down now. If I challenge him, I challenge him, and if I end up like the shrimp, so be it.

He pushes away from the wall, and in a lightening move I wasn’t expecting from a male as large as he is, Darax has my wrist in one hand and has clipped a glowing chain around it.

“What the fuck?” I grab at the chain and pull.

It doesn’t budge.

“I told you, you belong to me,” Darax says, somewhat smugly. “And the spoils are always mine.”

He gives the chain a shake, causing my arm to jerk.

“Then you’re an arsehole,” I retort.

Darax cocks his head on one side, his long hair parting enough I get to see some of his face. He has a strong jaw, high, prominent cheekbones, and a set of fangs set into a grimace as he contemplates my response.

“I am not just an arsehole. I am the arsehole,” he says. “As all the pirates, particularly this group of Bloar, can attest.”

He leans into me again, so close I can smell the smoke on his breath and see the white tips of his teeth, pointed and dangerous.

“They attempted to cross the Sarkarnii. We own this galaxy, and no one betters us,” he snarls. “They will pay for their transgression.”

He pauses, as if listening to an inner voice, before turning away from me to look at the gaggle of other Sarkarnii.

“It’s time to leave. Dante says this place is rigged to blow.” He taps at his ear, a small silver clip on it blinks slightly. “Nev him.”

I don’t get to say anything else as I’m dragged down the passage and to the airlock, which is open, into another ship. Darax pays little attention to me as he tows me on board what I assume is his ship, the Silver Star .

“We need to leave, now!” Darax roars at the rest of his crew. “Back to Vorostor. I have a fight to pick with a certain Sarkarnii warlord, and it isn’t going to be pretty.”

He drags me down a wide corridor, clean, almost clinical looking compared to the space scum bucket ’ve been used to, before a door slides open, and I’m shoved inside.

“Make yourself comfortable in my quarters, little snack.” He grins at me, hooking the chain onto a glowing point on the wall. “I’ll be back to deal with you later.”

“Wait,” I call out as he turns with a flick of his long tail.

He looks back over his shoulder.

“My friend…she accidentally fired herself out of the ship in an escape pod. She’s not going to end up toast, is she?”

He lifts his shoulders, then drops them. “Unknown. If she has any luck at all, it’ll have taken her to the nearest habitable planet.”

“Which is?”

“Vorostor, our home base.” He growls.

Something tells me Rosalie isn’t going to be any safer there than I am.