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I woke up breathless, tangled in sweat-damp clothes, my body thrumming with aftershocks of pleasure that refused to fade.

The dream clung to me like a second skin, vivid and intense—golden eyes watching me, massive hands exploring my body, and that deep, rumbling purr vibrating against my skin as he’d claimed me.

I pressed my thighs together, embarrassment and arousal warring for dominance as I tried to shake off the lingering effects of the most erotic dream I’d ever experienced.

My body still quivered, sensitive and wanting.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Here I was, stranded on some godforsaken alien planet after my “relaxing vacation shuttle” had malfunctioned, and my brain decided now was the perfect time for vivid alien sex dreams?

“Get it together, Everly,” I muttered, forcing myself to sit up.

I’d had dreams before—normal ones, boring ones, even the occasional sexy encounter with actors or ex-boyfriends.

But this? This had been a full sensory experience.

I could still feel the press of his tongue, the weight of his massive body covering mine, the way his claws had gently scraped along my skin.

A shiver ran through me, heat pooling between my legs all over again. Damn it. I did not need to be turned on while lost in an alien jungle.

But my body wasn’t listening to reason. I slid my hand between my thighs, biting my lip as the memory of the dream slammed into me—those piercing golden eyes, his broad striped chest, the way he’d growled praise against my ear as he’d?—

I gasped, arching as release hit me fast and hard, pleasure cresting through my body in waves. It was sharp, quick, and satisfying enough to leave me boneless against the makeshift bed of leaves I’d gathered.

And slightly mortified. What was wrong with me? Trauma-fueled alien sex fantasies? Was that a thing? If it was, I definitely needed therapy when—if—I ever made it back to Earth.

Sighing, I pushed myself up on shaky legs. I needed to clean up and get moving. Staying in one place too long wasn’t safe. I’d learned that the hard way on my second day here when something with too many teeth had tried to make me its dinner.

I gathered my few salvaged belongings and pushed through the thick underbrush, seeking out the sound of running water I’d heard the night before.

The jungle around me pulsed with alien life—massive ferns that shifted away from my touch, iridescent insects that hummed with metallic tones, trees with bark that seemed to breathe in the early morning light.

After a few minutes of stumbling through dense foliage, I found a small water hole, clear and shimmering, morning light dappling over its surface. Perfect.

I crouched at the edge, splashing cool water onto my face, trying to wash away the lingering heat from my dream. Not helping. The memory of a sun-warmed lagoon flashed in my mind—the exact setting from my dream, where he’d stalked me through crystal waters before catching me against smooth stones.

“Stop it,” I groaned, dunking my head under the water to silence my thoughts.

Focus, Everly. Survival first. Alien fantasy psychoanalysis later.

When I surfaced, I shook out my hair, squared my shoulders, and turned to leave?—

And came face-to-face with a very large, very fanged, very alien lizard.

I froze, my heart stuttering to a halt before slamming into overdrive.

It was not a normal lizard. It had six legs. Six thick, muscled, clawed legs and way too many teeth arranged in multiple rows behind lips that pulled back in what could only be described as a predatory smile.

I made a choking sound, somewhere between a gasp and a scream.

The lizard hissed, its vertical pupils fixed on me, its mottled green-and-black hide rippling as it tensed.

Oh, hell no.

I bolted, sprinting for my life. The jungle blurred around me as I ran, branches whipping against my arms and face, vines catching at my ankles. The sound of thundering footsteps crashed behind me, gaining with every second.

The lizard was fast—unnaturally fast for something that large. I could hear it closing the distance, feel the ground trembling beneath its weight with each pounding step.

My lungs burned, muscles screaming as I pushed myself harder. I ducked under a low-hanging branch, leapt over a fallen trunk, desperate to put something, anything between me and those teeth.

And then?—

A roar split the air.

Loud. Deafening. Primal.

A shadow launched from above, tackling the lizard mid-charge.

The jungle exploded into chaos. Snarls, screeches, the sound of ripping flesh and breaking bones filled the air. I stumbled, slamming into a tree, barely able to process what was happening.

Because the thing that had just dropped from the trees like a goddamn superhero was...

Was...

Oh.

Oh shit.

He was huge—at least seven and a half feet of corded muscle, deadly claws, and golden fur striped with black.

His powerful body moved with fluid grace as he tore into the lizard, his cat-like ears flattened against his skull, thick tail lashing in agitation.

Razor-sharp fangs gleamed as he ripped through the predator’s hide like it was paper.

My brain short-circuited, unable to process what I was seeing.

It’s him. The alien from my dream.

I barely had time to register that impossible fact before his head snapped toward me, nostrils flaring, pupils expanding to dark pools rimmed with gold. His bloodied claws flexed at his sides.

Instinct screamed at me to run.

I did the next best thing.

I grabbed a rock and hurled it at his head with all my strength.

He dodged it easily, almost lazily, a rumbling sound vibrating from his chest that—horrifyingly—sounded amused. Then he moved, lightning-fast, closing the distance between us before I could even think to run.

I yelped, scrambling backward, but his massive hands caught me, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing at all. I shrieked, kicking wildly, smacking ineffectually at his chest.

“Let me go! You big—striped—murder-cat!”

If he understood me, he didn’t show it. Instead, he hauled me up against his chest, rumbling something in his deep, purring alien voice that sent unwanted shivers down my spine.

He tucked me securely against him with one arm, my feet dangling uselessly off the ground, and carried me away like a prize he’d won.

And all I could think, through the panic and the fear, was how his touch felt exactly like it had in my dream.

He didn’t eat me. So that was a plus in the “stranded on an alien planet” survival guide.

Instead, after carrying me for what felt like miles through the dense jungle, my feline captor brought me to what remained of a ship—the kind you’d see in high-end military catalogs back on Earth, all sleek curves and menacing angles.

Or at least, it would have been impressive before whatever catastrophe had turned it into a blackened husk of twisted metal embedded in scorched earth.

“A ship,” I breathed, hope flickering to life despite the obvious state of the wreckage. “You have a ship.”

The alien finally set me down, his massive hands lingering on my waist a moment longer than necessary.

I scrambled away from him, putting a healthy distance between us as I assessed my surroundings.

The crash site was a disaster zone—debris scattered in a wide radius, the earth torn up and scorched black.

The ship itself was barely recognizable as a vessel, its hull ripped open and charred, the cockpit a mess of shattered glass and mangled controls.

The alien’s ears twitched toward me at the sound of my voice. His golden eyes—the same eyes from my dream, a fact I was desperately trying to ignore—fixed on me with unnerving intensity. He made a low rumbling sound in his chest, then gestured toward the wreckage with a clawed hand.

I turned back to the ship, hope rapidly fading as I took a closer look.

The engines were completely destroyed, twisted hunks of metal that would never fire again.

The navigation systems were exposed to the elements, wires dangling uselessly.

Even the emergency beacons appeared damaged beyond repair.

This thing wasn’t flying anywhere. Not now, not ever.

My heart sank as reality settled heavy on my shoulders. I wasn’t getting off this planet with this ship.

“Great,” I muttered, slumping against a nearby boulder. “Just great. Stranded on an alien planet with a wrecked ship and a giant cat-man who might decide I’m dinner after all.”

The alien appeared unbothered by my distress. He moved with confident purpose toward the ship, stepping through a jagged tear in the hull. I watched him disappear inside, tensing as I considered making a run for it.

But where would I go? Back to the jungle with the six-legged lizards? Not exactly a promising alternative.

So I waited, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to sort through the impossible situation I found myself in—particularly the fact that the alien who’d just saved me was identical to the one who’d …well …done considerably more intimate things to me in my dream.

The alien emerged from the wreckage a few minutes later, holding something small and metallic in his massive hand. The device gleamed in the sunlight, clearly undamaged despite the state of the ship. It looked vaguely medical—like a cross between a hypodermic injector and a diagnostic tool.

He approached me with determined strides, the device held out in front of him.

I leaned back, pressing against the boulder. “Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening.”

His eyes narrowed, tail flicking in obvious irritation. He took another step closer, towering over me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring up at him. “I feel fine, thank you very much. Don’t need whatever alien drugs you’re pushing.”

And then—he purred.

The sound was nothing like a house cat’s gentle vibration. This was deep, resonant, a physical force that rolled through my bones and settled warm and heavy in my chest. My muscles relaxed involuntarily, my brain suddenly fuzzy around the edges.

“That’s cheating,” I murmured, struggling to maintain my defensive posture.

Taking advantage of my momentary weakness, he moved with lightning speed. One large hand cradled the back of my head while the other pressed the device against my neck.

I yelped as a sharp pinch shot through my skin, followed by a brief burning sensation that spread outward like liquid fire before quickly fading.

“You asshole!” I swatted at his arm, scowling up at him. “You don’t just go around injecting people with random alien tech! There are rules about this kind of?—”

“There now. Not so bad, kitten.”

I froze. The world tilted sideways.

My heart stopped beating.

My stomach plummeted straight through my feet.

Because I had understood every single word.

Every. Single. Word.

Slowly, I tilted my head up, mouth hanging open in shock.

The alien cat-man smirked down at me, satisfaction written across his feline features. His golden eyes glowed with amusement, his lips curved to reveal the tips of deadly fangs.

“Now we can talk,” he said, his purring voice rich and deep, exactly as it had been in my dream.

My head spun with impossible questions. How could I understand him? What had he injected me with? And most importantly—how was he the same alien from my dream?

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“Who—what—” I stammered, backing away from him. “What did you do to me?”

His smirk widened into something dangerous and thrilling.

“Just a universal translator. Standard issue for the Legion.” He took a step closer, his massive form blocking out the sun.

“The real question, little human, is what are you doing so far from your home planet? And why—” his nostrils flared as he leaned closer, “—do you smell like my mate?”