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I couldn’t sleep. My body craved rest, but my mind refused to shut down, cycling between the gnawing anxiety of our situation and the fear of what would happen if I actually closed my eyes.

Every time I drifted toward unconsciousness, I’d jerk awake, afraid to slip into another one of those dreams—the ones where I was tangled up with Zehn, my not-supposed-to-be-sexy alien murder cat, his powerful body moving against mine in ways that left me gasping even after I woke.

The shelter he’d constructed kept out the elements, but it couldn’t protect me from my own treacherous mind.

I paced the small clearing, trying to exhaust myself into dreamless sleep, when something in the wind made me freeze.

Two days ago, I’d been on vacation, trying to recover from burnout at my high-stress job. Now I was hiding in an alien jungle with a seven-foot-tall leopard man who claimed I was his “fate mate.” The universe had a sick sense of humor.

I ran my fingers through my long black hair, grimacing at the tangles.

My body felt heavy with fatigue, but the tension in the air was palpable—an electric current that made my skin prickle.

Zehn had left hours ago to scout the perimeter, and the silence of his absence was oppressive.

I’d grown accustomed to his presence, his low rumbling voice, even the way his eyes tracked my every movement.

I hated that I’d begun to find comfort in it.

“This is insane,” I muttered, continuing my pacing. “You’re losing it, Everly.”

The thin fabric of my clothing clung to my skin in the humid night air.

Each step I took across the clearing was measured, careful not to disturb anything that might give away our position.

Zehn had been adamant about staying hidden.

From what, I wasn’t entirely sure—he’d been frustratingly vague about the specifics, saying only that there were “others” looking for us.

I stopped mid-stride. There was something different about the night sounds—or rather, the lack of them.

The constant chorus of alien insects and creatures had suddenly gone quiet.

Something in my gut—some primal instinct I didn’t know I possessed—told me to remain perfectly still. I didn’t even breathe.

That’s when I heard it—a faint mechanical whirring overhead, barely audible but distinctly artificial among the organic sounds of the jungle. My eyes darted upward, scanning the small patches of night sky visible through the dense canopy.

They came into view suddenly—sleek, metallic objects gliding through the air with an eerie precision.

Drones. At least half a dozen of them, their surfaces gleaming under the blue light of this planet’s larger moon.

They moved in formation, scanning patterns sweeping methodically across the landscape.

I remembered Zehn’s instructions if anything like this happened: Don’t move. Don’t run. The shields will protect you.

The shields. Zehn had activated some kind of protective barrier around our temporary camp before he left.

He’d pressed something on his gauntlet, and the air had shimmered briefly before returning to normal.

“They won’t see you through this,” he’d said, his amber eyes serious.

“But if they do, run to the eastern ridge and hide in the black rock formations.”

I stood rigid as the drones hovered closer, their scanning beams cutting through the night in eerie blue lines.

One drone descended lower than the others, hovering just above the canopy directly over my position.

For a moment, I thought the shield was working—the drone’s scanning beam passed over the area without pausing.

Then something changed. The drone halted its sweeping pattern and focused its beam directly on the spot where I stood. The blue light intensified, becoming almost painful to look at. I squinted against the glare, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The drone was descending, the beam narrowing, penetrating the shield that was supposed to keep me hidden.

Whatever technology Zehn had deployed, these things had found a way through it.

I took a step back, my survival instinct screaming at me to run, but my body refusing to obey.

I was trapped in the light, exposed, vulnerable.

The drone was close enough now that I could see its complex design—multiple lenses, sensor arrays, and what looked disturbingly like weapons systems. It emitted a high-pitched whine that made my teeth ache, and I knew instinctively that it was about to do something. Something bad.

A massive shadow suddenly cut through the blue light.

There was a sound like metal being torn apart, and the drone spun wildly before crashing to the ground, sparks flying from its ruined hull.

I gasped, stumbling backward as a massive figure landed where the drone had been, his powerful legs absorbing the impact with terrifying grace.

Zehn. His eyes glowed in the darkness, fierce and predatory. He wore no camouflage technology now—his true form fully visible. Seven feet of muscled, lethal alien, his leopard-like features contorted in a snarl as he surveyed the sky for the remaining drones.

They converged on our position, their scanning beams intensifying, but before they could get close, they suddenly faltered. One by one, they dropped from the sky like stones, crashing into the undergrowth with metallic thuds and electrical sizzles.

“What the—” I began, but the words died in my throat as another figure emerged from the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

He was similar to Zehn—another leopard-man alien of the same imposing height—but different in ways that made my breath catch.

Where Zehn’s fur pattern was sleek and uniform, this newcomer’s was disrupted by scars that cut pale lines through the dark spots.

His eyes were more luminous, like crystal shards.

And there was something about the way he moved—more cautious, more measured—that made him seem both more dangerous and more vulnerable than Zehn.

Most disturbing of all was the sense of recognition that washed over me. I had never seen this alien before, yet something in me knew him. As our eyes met across the clearing, a name rose unbidden to my lips.

“Khaaz,” I whispered, then immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. How did I know his name?

The scarred alien froze, his luminous eyes widening slightly. He glanced at Zehn, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Everly,” Zehn said, approaching me with quick, fluid strides. His voice was lower than usual, a rumble that seemed to vibrate through me. “Are you harmed?”

I shook my head, still staring at the newcomer. “How do I know his name? I’ve never seen him before.”

Zehn’s jaw tightened. “You have. In your dreams.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if this was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“What? No. No, the dreams were with—” I stopped, heat flooding my face. I wasn’t about to discuss my erotic dreams with Zehn while standing in front of this stranger.

“The dreams of unity are not always clear,” Zehn said, misunderstanding my embarrassment. “But they are never wrong. Your soul recognizes him, just as it recognizes me.”

Khaaz remained at the edge of the clearing, his posture alert but hesitant. He seemed almost afraid to approach me, which was absurd considering he was essentially a seven-foot-tall killing machine. When he finally spoke, his voice was rougher than Zehn’s, as if it wasn’t used as often.

“I didn’t expect them to act so quickly,” he said, addressing Zehn more than me. “They’ve never used this level of resources for a retrieval before. At least, not to my knowledge.”

I looked between them, frustration building. “Would someone please explain what’s going on? Who is he?” I gestured at Khaaz. “Why do I know his name? And who are ‘they’?”

Zehn moved closer to me, his large body radiating heat in the cool night air.”Khaaz is like me. Rodinian. But also...” he hesitated, “different. Altered.”

“I’m a failed experiment,” Khaaz said bluntly. “This planet hides a black site operation of creating biological weapons. I was one of the few who survived the process.”

“And now he’s going to help us get out of here,” Zehn added, not giving me time to process this information.

“Help us how?” I asked.

“I know the location of a hidden facility,” Khaaz said. “With transport capabilities that can get you off-world.”

The tension between the two males was palpable. They weren’t hostile toward each other, exactly, but there was a wariness, an unspoken competition that made the air feel thick and heavy. I had the distinct impression they were communicating something beyond their words.

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hands. “Does this mean we need to leave now? Or should we stay here?”

Khaaz’s eyes swept the clearing, taking in the downed drones.

“The shields are compromised. They’ve calibrated their scanners to detect the energy signature.

” He looked up at the night sky. “But they won’t send another wave immediately.

They’ll assume the drones malfunctioned and wait for confirmation before deploying more resources. ”

“So we have time,” I said.

“Some,” Zehn agreed. “But not much.”

“At this point,” Khaaz said, “we might as well rest and move toward the facility in the morning. Traveling at night in this terrain would be difficult, even for us.” He glanced at me, clearly indicating that I was the limiting factor in their travel speed.

I bristled at the implication. “I can keep up.”

A ghost of a smile touched Khaaz’s scarred face.

“I’m sure you can, but there’s no need to push ourselves when we have a strategic advantage in waiting.

Dawn will give us better visibility; the engineers use different surveillance patterns at first light.

There will be a brief window when their coverage is minimal. ”

Zehn didn’t seem entirely convinced. He prowled the edge of the clearing, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his fur. “And if they send ground units instead of drones?”

“Then we’ll hear them coming from miles away,” Khaaz replied. “The local wildlife is sensitive to their presence. They’ll give us plenty of warning.”

The two aliens stared at each other, another silent communication passing between them. Finally, Zehn gave a curt nod.

“Fine. We rest, then move at first light.” He turned to me. “You should try to sleep, Everly. Tomorrow will be demanding.”

“That’s what I was trying to do before all this happened,” I said, gesturing at the destroyed drones.

Khaaz watched me with those too-bright eyes, his expression unreadable. There was something in the way he looked at me—like he was afraid of me, or afraid for me. It made no sense. I was the vulnerable human here, surrounded by alien predators and hidden threats.

“I’ll take first watch,” Khaaz announced abruptly, breaking the tense silence. Without waiting for a response, he turned and melted into the jungle shadows with disturbing ease.

Zehn watched him go, then turned to me. “He won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why does he care? Why do either of you care? I’m just some random human who happened to have weird dreams.”

Zehn’s expression softened slightly, which on his fierce features looked almost comical. “Not random, Everly. Never random. The universe doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to fate mates.”

“There’s that term again. ‘Fate mates.’ You keep saying it like it should mean something to me.”

“It will,” he said simply. “When you’re ready to understand.”

I sighed, suddenly bone-tired. The adrenaline of the drone attack was wearing off, leaving me drained. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to understand any of this.”

Zehn gestured to the shelter he’d constructed earlier. “Rest. I’ll join you soon.”

I wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but exhaustion was winning.

I retreated to the shelter, wrapping myself in the strange but comfortable alien blanket Zehn had provided.

As I closed my eyes, I couldn’t shake the image of Khaaz’s luminous gaze, or the inexplicable feeling that I’d known him all my life.