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The door hissed open, as if her camouflaged hand had somehow tripped the same hidden code Riv’En used. Not just mimicry—access. As though the ship itself had recognized her in that moment, allowing her passage like she belonged there, the same way hedid.

Maya jerked back, eyes wide. Too late. Footsteps. Riv’En’s. Closer.

Without thinking, she slipped inside the room, pressing flat against the nearest wall.

Her heart was a steady hammer now, not frantic but measured, every beat a pulse from her fingertips down to her spine.

She flattened her palms against the cool surface behind her, trying to quiet her breathing, to disappear completely.

The air tasted sharp, like metal and something darker—fear maybe.

Her mind ran circles around the same thought: he couldn’t see her.

She had to believe that. She had to hold still and let it work, whatever had just happened to herskin.

The door stayed open.

Riv’En stepped through. His gaze swept the room once. Twice.

He didn’t see her. Maya’s heart slammed, sharp and loud. And then came the shock. Real, dizzying shock. He couldn’t see her. Riv’En—an assassin, aman designed to sense and eliminate threats before they even moved—had looked straight throughher.

Her pulse roared in her ears, but beneath the panic was a rising thrill.

She wasn’t just invisible. She was undetectable.

That realization hit her like a second pulse of adrenaline.

Riv’En hadn’t seen her. That meant she had a real advantage, areal chance.

Her mind spun with the possibilities. If she could slip past him undetected, if she could manipulate this—whatever it was—it might be the key to getting off thisship.

For the first time since she’d been taken, the odds weren’t completely stacked against her. That awareness from before, sensing him in the hall? Maybe it wasn’t one-sided. Maybe she wasn’t entirely human anymore. But why wasn’t she entirely human?

Her mind reeled, grasping for explanations.

Maybe it was the ship’s systems. Maybe something Riv’En had done.

Or maybe—her breath caught—maybe it was her.

That single, reckless moment when she bit him.

When his blood hit her tongue. Could that have been it?

Could his blood have changed something insideher?

The memory left her stomach hollowing out, afaint nausea curling beneath her ribs.

Her hands flexed unconsciously, as if trying to shake off the lingering imprint of him.

If it was his blood, then the question was whether it was temporary.

Or permanent. If it faded, she needed to move now.

Make use of it while she could. Get off this ship.

Find her way back to Earth. And figure out what else had changed before it was toolate.

Riv’En shifted to a control panel near the far side, his hand sliding across it, inputting some kind of command. His face stayed blank. Focused.Her lungs locked. She didn’t breathe. It was like her entire body had gone weightless.

And still he didn’t seeher.

When he finished, Riv’En turned, walked back toward the door, andleft.

The second the door sealed shut behind him, Maya staggered forward, looking down at herself again. Her hands. Herarms.

Normal.

But she’d seen it. Felt it. Her skin blending perfectly with the wall. Likehis .

Her pulse still hadn’t calmed.

Carefully, she stepped back to the panel by the exit, pressing her hand against it. Watching as, slowly, her skin shimmered again, color bleeding away, blending with the console beneath herpalm.

She pulled back again, chest tight.

“Okay,” she whispered. “That’s... new.”

And she wasn’t done testing. Determination filled her. If she could access one door, there had to be more. Her mind latched onto the idea, frantic and clear all at once. Maybe she didn’t need to force her way out. Maybe she couldask.

She stepped back to the panel again, fingers hovering, then dropped them to the surface with slow intent. “Computer,” she said, voice steady despite the hammering in her chest. “How was I brought aboard this ship?”

A pause. Then a cool, female voice answered. “Subject was transported via long-range matter translocation from planetary designation: Earth.”

Maya blinked, heart pounding. Long-range matter translocation. Teleportation. She hadn’t been taken by shuttle or ship—she’d been ripped straight from her life, her world, by a pulse of light. Her voice cracked as she pressed her hand harder against the panel. “Where is the transport room?”

A small pulse of light traced along the panel in front of her, followed by the voice: “Follow the marked path.”

She didn’t hesitate. Step by step, Maya followed the illuminated path, her heart slamming harder with each turn of the corridor.

At the final door, she paused, then touched the panel to open it.

The room was simple—awide platform, panels glowing faintly along one wall.

Her gaze swept the space, recognizing it on some level.

This was it. Her chance.

Maya stepped onto the platform, cleared her throat, and ordered into the silence, “Beam me down to Earth!”

The panel lights flared. And before she could second-guess it, everything vanished in a sharp pulse of heat and light. Her stomach flipped. Her vision blurred.

She dropped straight into an icy cold ocean.