Page 16

I woke with the phantom sensation of claws against my skin and fangs at my throat.

The dream clung to me like sweat, intimate and impossible to ignore.

My body hummed with lingering pleasure, a delicious ache between my thighs reminding me of what had transpired in our shared dreamspace.

I kept my eyes shut, mortification washing over me in waves.

How was I supposed to look either of them in the eye after that?

After they had both thoroughly claimed me, marked me, ruined me for anyone else?

I’d never been the center of such focused, primal attention before—and certainly never from two enormous alien cat-men simultaneously.

The air around me shifted, and I caught the rich, spicy scent of cooked meat. My stomach growled in response, betraying my consciousness. So much for pretending to be asleep until I figured out how to face them.

“Ah, she wakes,” Zehn’s deep voice rumbled from somewhere above me. “Sleep well, kitten?”

The suggestive lilt in his tone made heat flood my cheeks. I cracked one eye open to find him crouched nearby, golden eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker, more possessive. He was holding what looked like freshly cooked meat on a makeshift spit.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep, deliberately ignoring his question.

“Hunted while you two were still lost in dreams,” he said, tearing off a piece and offering it to me. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

The way he said it—laden with meaning, with promise—made the heat in my cheeks spread throughout my body. I pushed myself up to sitting, wincing slightly at the stiffness in my muscles. Running around through alien wilderness weren’t exactly what my desk-job body was conditioned for.

Khaaz was already awake, pacing along the edge of our hide-high, his scarred form silhouetted against the early morning light.

He glanced back at me, and I caught the flash of his iridescent eyes.

Unlike Zehn, he didn’t mention the dream, but the intensity of his gaze told me he remembered every detail.

Every touch, every taste, every shared moment of pleasure.

I accepted the meat from Zehn, our fingers brushing in the exchange. Even that small contact sent electricity racing up my arm. “Thank you,” I mumbled, focusing intently on the food to avoid meeting his knowing eyes.

The meat was surprisingly tender, seasoned with something that tasted vaguely like garlic but wasn’t quite.

In that moment, it rated higher than all the luxury dinners I treated myself to, and devoured it with gusto.

Amazing how quickly priorities shifted when you were on the run for your life on an alien planet.

“Water?” Zehn offered, holding out a container that hadn’t been there last night.

“Did you rob a convenience store while we were sleeping?” I asked, accepting it gratefully.

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “There’s a stream half a kilometer down the mountain. The container was in my pack.”

I drank deeply, the cool water washing away the last vestiges of sleep.

It didn’t, however, wash away the memory of the dream.

Of Zehn’s mouth between my thighs, of Khaaz’s length down my throat, of the three of us connected in ways that defied conventional relationships.

The water suddenly went down the wrong pipe, and I sputtered, coughing.

Zehn’s large hand was instantly at my back, patting with surprising gentleness. “Easy,” he murmured. “Breathe.”

When I could speak again, I gestured toward Khaaz. “What’s the plan for today? More walking until my feet fall off?”

Khaaz turned his full attention to us, his expression serious. “The facility is just ahead, within a day’s travel. I haven’t detected any drones in the area, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. We should remain under the cloaking field regardless.”

The cloaking field was another marvel of alien technology—a small device Zehn carried that apparently bent light around us, making us virtually invisible to electronic surveillance.

I didn’t fully understand how it worked, but I was grateful for it.

It had kept us hidden from whatever was hunting Khaaz—and by extension, now hunting me.

“So we’re almost there,” I said, relief evident in my voice. “And then what?”

Zehn and Khaaz exchanged a look that I couldn’t interpret. There was an entire conversation happening in that silent communication, one I wasn’t privy to.

“Then we find a way to get you home,” Zehn said finally, his tone neutral. Too neutral. “If that’s what you want.”

Something in my chest constricted painfully at the thought, but I pushed the feeling aside.

Of course that’s what I wanted. Earth. Home.

My apartment. My job. My life. The normal, human world where I didn’t have to run for my life or worry about alien hunters or navigate the complicated dynamics of whatever this was between the three of us.

“Right,” I said, matching his neutral tone. “Home.”

We broke camp efficiently, each of us falling into the routine we’d established over the past days.

I rolled up the thermal blanket that had served as my bedding, stuffing it into the pack Zehn had given me.

It was significantly lighter than theirs, containing only essential supplies and none of the other bulk they both carried.

Even so, my shoulders protested as I hoisted it.

As we set off, me sandwiched between my two protectors as usual, I made a silent promise to join a gym if—when—I got back to Earth. No more takeout dinners eaten while hunched over my laptop. No more elevator instead of stairs. No more excuses.

The landscape here was beautiful in a stark, alien way.

Red-tinged rock formations rose around us, their shapes like nothing I’d seen on Earth.

Vegetation was sparse but tenacious, clinging to cracks in the stone, their colors ranging from deep purple to a green so dark it was almost black.

The sky above was a pale lavender, streaked with wispy clouds that moved too quickly across the horizon.

In another context, this might have been the adventure vacation of a lifetime. Instead, it was a desperate flight from forces I still didn’t fully understand, guided by two males from a species I hadn’t known existed until a week ago.

My thoughts drifted as we walked, my body falling into the familiar rhythm of the hike.

What would it be like to go back to my apartment after this?

To the gray-beige walls and generic furniture, the stack of take-out menus in the kitchen drawer, the endless stream of data entry that constituted my job?

The thought felt hollow, like trying to squeeze back into clothes I’d outgrown.

Here, despite the danger and discomfort, every moment felt vibrant, immediate.

The food, though simple, tasted more real than any five-star restaurant meal I’d ever had.

The nights under alien stars, wrapped in warmth and safety despite the constant threat, were more restful than any night in my memory foam mattress.

And then there were Zehn and Khaaz themselves. Two sides of the same coin—Zehn disciplined and controlled, Khaaz feral and unpredictable. Both lethal. Both protective. Both fixated on me in a way no human man had ever been.

The dream had only confirmed what I’d been feeling since they found me—that I belonged with them in some inexplicable, cosmic way. That we were connected by something deeper than circumstance or convenience or even attraction.

The thought of never seeing them again after we reached the facility hit me with unexpected force. A physical pain lanced through my chest, stealing my breath, making me stumble on the uneven ground. Zehn’s hand shot out, steadying me before I could fall.

“Everly?” His voice was sharp with concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I gasped, trying to regain my composure. “Just lost my footing.”

His amber eyes narrowed, studying my face with unnerving intensity. “Your scent changed. You’re in distress.”

I’d forgotten about their enhanced senses. Lying to them was pointless, apparently.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, straightening my shoulders. “Just tired. And sore. And wondering if we’re actually going to make it to this facility without something trying to kill us again.”

Khaaz had doubled back, alerted by our pause. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, his gaze sweeping the area for threats.

“Nothing,” I repeated, frustration edging my voice. “Can we just keep moving?”

“No,” Zehn said firmly. “We rest. Now.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the look on his face stopped me. This wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. And despite everything in me that wanted to argue on principle, I found myself oddly comforted by his decisiveness.

Khaaz nodded in agreement, his eyes flickering between Zehn and me. “This ridge provides good cover. I’ll scout ahead, check for perimeter sensors. The facility might have automated defenses still active.”

Zehn hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to stay with me and the tactical advantage of having Khaaz survey the terrain. “Be careful,” he finally said. “Stay under the cloak. Fifteen minutes, then return.”

Khaaz’s lips curled in what might have been amusement. “Concerned for my welfare, Reaper?” he asked.

“Concerned for our mission,” Zehn corrected, but there was no real bite to his words. Something had shifted between them since the dream—a new understanding, perhaps, or at least a temporary truce.

Khaaz approached me, his movements fluid and predatory. Without warning, he leaned in, his nose skimming along my jawline in a gesture that was both alien and intimately familiar. He inhaled deeply, as if memorizing my scent.

“Rest,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “I’ll return soon.”

Then he was gone, disappearing among the rocks with a grace that belied his size. I stared after him, my heart hammering in my chest, my skin tingling where he’d been so close.

Zehn guided me to a flat boulder, gently pressing me down to sit. He removed his pack and then mine, setting them aside before lowering himself beside me. The rock was warm from the alien sun, the heat seeping through my clothes, soothing my aching muscles.

“Now,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “tell me what’s really troubling you.”

I looked away, focusing on the alien landscape spread before us. “I told you, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Everly.” Just my name, but the way he said it—a command, a plea, a promise—broke something loose inside me.

“I don’t know if I want to go home,” I whispered, the admission torn from someplace deep and vulnerable.

He was silent for a long moment, so long that I finally turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those amber eyes that seemed to see right through me—were intense with emotion.

“And why is that?” he asked carefully, as if testing the ground before committing his weight to it.

How could I explain it? That the thought of returning to my monotonous life felt like a prison sentence now?

That the idea of never seeing him or Khaaz again created a physical pain I couldn’t rationalize?

That I’d never felt more alive than I did here, running for my life with two alien warriors as my protectors?

“My life there...” I gestured vaguely, struggling to find the words. “It’s just so...empty. Data entry. Takeout. Streaming. Sleep. Repeat. Here, everything is...more. The colors are brighter. The food tastes better. The danger is real, not just something I read about online.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “And there’s you. And Khaaz. Whatever this is between us... I’ve never felt anything like it. The thought of losing that, of losing you both, hurts in a way I can’t explain.”

Zehn’s hand moved to cover mine, his palm rough with calluses, his claws carefully retracted. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the alien climate.

“The unity dreams don’t lie, Everly,” he said softly. “What you’re feeling—what we’re all feeling—it’s real. It’s rare. Among my people, it’s sacred.”

“But how can it work?” I asked, the question that had been haunting me since the first dream. “You and Khaaz can barely tolerate each other. And I’m human. I don’t belong in your world any more than you belong in mine.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “You belong. Fate mates are sacred. Regardless, we belong in a world we make for ourselves,” he suggested, his voice low and intense. “Between the stars. Beyond the boundaries others have set.”

The thought was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. To leave behind everything I knew—my planet, my species, my understanding of what relationships should be—for something entirely new. Something undefined.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said, surprising me. “Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you alive. But don’t let it rule you, Everly. Don’t let it make your choices for you.”

In the distance, a shadow moved among the rocks—Khaaz returning from his scouting mission. Zehn tracked his progress with predatory focus, but his hand remained on mine, a bridge between us, a promise of possibility.

“Think on it,” he said, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. “The choice is yours, always. But know this—neither Khaaz nor I will let you go easily. Not now. Not after sharing unity.”

The possessiveness in his tone should have frightened me. Instead, it sent a thrill of anticipation through my body, a feeling of belonging I’d never experienced before.

Khaaz reached us, his iridescent eyes taking in our proximity, our postures, the lingering touch of Zehn’s hand on mine. Rather than jealousy, I saw understanding in his gaze, acceptance of whatever had passed between us in his absence.

“The path is clear,” he reported. “No active sensors detected. But we should move quickly. Daylight fades fast in this region.”

Zehn nodded, lifting our packs with effortless strength. “Lead on.”

As we resumed our journey, I found myself walking taller, my steps more purposeful.

The future was still uncertain, fraught with dangers I couldn’t foresee.

But for the first time since I’d been stranded on this alien world, I allowed myself to consider that maybe, just maybe, going back to Earth wasn’t the only path forward.

Maybe home wasn’t a place at all, but the space between two warriors who had claimed me as their own. And maybe that was exactly where I belonged.