Page 101

Chapter Nine

B rianna

“Wow, Savannah.” I hike up the fabric on the bust of my dress so my boobs don’t spill out when I take a deep breath.

Savannah is our resident U.S. Marine slash clothes horse. It’s always struck me as an interesting combo, but she seems totally at home in both roles.

“You look hot, Brianna.” She winks at me and fusses with the yards of billowy skirt.

“Hot? Really?” I wonder if the guys will think I’m hot, then mentally scold myself for even caring.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Both your guys will be very interested. You’re all crazy about each other if your passionate looks are any indication, yet things are obviously tense between you. I just thought I’d give Mother Nature a little push. Did you know we all call you Braxxianna behind your backs?”

I give her a questioning look.

“You know, like Brangelina?”

“For fuck’s sake, Savannah.”

She pulls me in front of the only full-length mirror on the ship. It’s in a large room in the abandoned wing. All the women are putting last-minute touches on their dresses. Evidently planet Fairea is like a Renaissance Festival back home, except it’s three-hundred-sixty-five days a year—or however long their year is. It sustains the whole planet’s economy.

People dress up in old-fashioned costumes. The males on our little ship just have to throw on the fancy leather gladiator kilt-like outfits they sewed for the first party we had after the overthrow. We women, however, needed to put in a lot of effort. We looked at a lot of pics on the Intergalactic Database and it seems there’s a lot of leeway, especially since there are so many species involved.

We’re wearing dresses that would fit in at a Ren-Fest on Earth. Lots of decolletage, wasp waists, and full skirts. We found some Mirasian silk in a crate in the hold. Evidently, it’s hella expensive and quite sought after in the galaxy. Oh well, spoils of war.

As I look in the mirror, I have to say I look pretty good. I should have been born in this time period. It nicely displays my assets—boobs! The nipped-in waist gives the illusion that I have a waist, and the full skirt hides my wide hips. I twirl this way and that, actually liking what I see.

“You look great, Brie. Let me help Zoey, I think she needs alterations and we have less than two hours until we touch down.”

“Brianna!” Petra calls over the din of so many conversations. “Hair and makeup over here!”

She sits me down in a hard little chair and brings out makeup and brushes.

“We were kidnapped in our p.j.’s, Petra. Where did you get the stockpile of makeup?”

“Every time we stop at a planet and they ask me to do my sexy rope routine to make money I pick up some supplies.” She tilts her head and shrugs. “You have such a beautiful complexion you don’t need much makeup. What hairstyle do you want?”

We do a whirlwind search on the database and decide on a French braid crown, with enough of my thick, brown hair down that some length will still flow down my back. Petra’s fingers fly and we’re done in minutes.

How lucky, I got hair and makeup done without any intrusive questions.

As I help a couple of other women with their dresses, I reflect on the last few days.

At first, I thought Braxx should apologize for his behavior during the massage. He orchestrated that, not Axx, and it ended so badly. I finally decided that running out of the room wasn’t exactly proper adult behavior on my part either, so I quit expecting an apology.

Braxx has made it a point to eat with me every day. He’s been building up his strength. He asked me to walk the halls with him. He’s gotten a lot stronger, but I’m still glad Dax, the handiest guy on the ship, made him a tall wooden staff. Dax said he found the wood in one of the cargo bays. It’s amazing the stuff we’ve found there.

B and I talked a lot about our home planets when we were walking around the ship. He’s shown me pictures of his homeworld. He wasn’t joking when he said he wanted to know everything about me. He actually got me to hum a couple of my favorite songs and tell a few stories. I narrated the plot of the movie Avatar . I thought he’d love it, but it lost something in the translation.

He asked me to go to planet Galgon with him two days ago to watch Aries and Savage’s cestus matches, but I declined. I was afraid I’d see one of them get hurt. Thankfully both males won handily and came back to the Slacker without a scratch.

After six days of meals and walks and singing and stories, I feel comfortable with Braxx. I’m not sure how things will be with Axxios, though. I’m hoping he decides to stay on board at the helm. I even hinted that to Braxx several times today, but I don’t think he took the bait.

“Females and males,” Captain Zar announces over the comm. “I’m happy to tell you we’ve landed on Fairea. My lovely Anya tells me we’re here for what she calls Rest and Relaxation. So be it. As you all know, Aries and Savage won their gladiatorial matches on Galgon and the purses were larger than expected. There are enough credits for each of you to have money to spend on your holiday. This will be dispensed to each of you as you exit the ship.

“Research shows the fair is rife with pickpockets, rigged games of chance, and some of the galaxy’s lowest riff-raff. As a former slave, I don’t give orders lightly, but consider it an order that none of you, male or female, travel alone on Fairea. No one. I hope I make myself clear.

“We all have bounties on our heads. If we see signs of the MarZan cartel we may need to take off in a hurry. Please stay in touch through your wrist comms and check back here every hoara .

“My appreciation to Dr. Drayke and Nova who have volunteered to stay on board and man the comms.”

He pauses a moment. Even though he’s on the bridge and we’re all elsewhere in the ship, he’s probably giving us a moment to chuckle. Drayke and Nova still can’t go an hour without mating. It’s no hardship for them to stay on board. The bridge will probably smell like sex when we return.

“So everyone be safe, have fun, and check back every hoara .” The comm clicks off, then on again. “We leave atmo at 2105. Back on board by 2100 at the latest.”

A moment later I run into A and B near the exit area. I actually get a little weak in the knees. They’re standing at my door in their sexy gladiator regalia. Axxios already had a fancy uniform. He and his brother must have been sewing today because now they’re both wearing the hottest black leather outfits in the entire Procul sector.

I think there are skimpy loincloths cradling the family jewels. Over that, they’re wearing a thick black belt with a strip of black leather hanging down the middle from waist to knee. The strip is about four inches wide, just enough to make you wonder what it’s hiding. They have black sashes from one shoulder to the other side of their waist.

Ohmygod. How can a person go from zero to one hundred on the arousal scale in one freaking second? The black leather slashing across their gold and silver skin? Ah-mazing.

But even cooler than that? The smoldering look they’re giving me. Two sets of turquoise eyes are looking me up and down and up again. Maybe Savannah was right about the boobage I’m showing. My twins are certainly making these twins happy.

“Could you forgive me if just for today I use the b-word, Brianna?” Braxx asks respectfully.

My eyebrows and the corners of my mouth lower.

“Maybe other b-words then? How about breathtaking?”

“Beguiling,” Axx adds.

“Bewitching,” Braxx is making this a game.

“Ravishing.”

“Hey, that’s not a b-word,” I complain.

“It is in our language,” they both tell me at the same time, then laugh.

“Lovely.”

“Stunning.”

“Captivating.”

“Tantalizing.”

“Enough!” I interrupt.

They both bow low to me, then come up smiling.

“You ready?” Axx asks.

I nod. “How’s your back, Braxxus. Let me see.”

He turns around. His entire back is exposed in this outfit, but it’s covered in plas-film. My fingers gently trace some of the worst cuts, but overall it looks much better.

Braxx turns, grabs the wooden staff he’d leaned against the wall, and takes my right hand in his left; Axx grabs my other hand.

After complimenting all the lovely ladies and alpha males queued up in the exit area, our feet touch Fairean soil. The cloudless sky is almost bottle green with its three weak suns shining down from different quadrants of the sky. I assume I’ll get used to the eerie quality of the daylight by the time we leave.

I’ve been to the Renaissance Festival near Denver several times, and this has the same vibe, only it goes on as far as the eye can see in all directions. We get a festival map on an interactive vid card when we pay our entry fee, then move off to the side to plan our strategy.

I let the guys pour over the map as I watch the organized chaos all around me. Our intel was right, we would have felt foolish without our costumes. I even see babies in strollers who are dressed for the fair.

I’ve gotten off the ship on two different planets since I was abducted, so the sheer enormity of seeing dozens, maybe hundreds of different alien species isn’t completely shocking. But it’s still oddly compelling eye candy to see different skin colors, numbers of limbs and digits, and facial configurations.

The reptilian species, of which I’ve counted three already today, give me the skeeves in a deep place in the pit of my stomach. Like seeing mold growing on food, there’s something in my own primitive brain that just shouts “stay away” from something with scaly skin and vertical pupils.

I smell meat cooking on an open fire and hear people hawking their wares. Music is drifting toward me from at least two directions. For the first time since leaving Earth, I hear an alien tune with a pleasing melody; my body hums with pleasure. It reminds me of the type of music I heard at the Ren-Fest back home. The melody lilting toward me from my right sounds like a flute and a stringed instrument. I want to go watch them play. In fact, I want to see everything there is to see before my feet hit the Lazy Slacker’s ramp at 2100.

“Brianna, come give us your opinion,” Braxx calls.

I approach and try to make sense of the vidscreen he hands me. They flank me and show me various exhibitions they think I’ll enjoy. While I hold the screen, first a silver, and then a gold hand point out different locations on the map. They suggest a schedule and a route.

“What do you guys want to see?”

“Whatever pleases you,” they say almost simultaneously.

Oh, I could get used to this—two handsome males who want to cater to my every desire. Yes, please.

“This schedule you’re showing me, you’d enjoy this too, right?”

They nod.

“Then let’s get a move on.”

The first exhibition we’ll attend sounds like an elaborate mronck show. They say it’s dozens of six-legged horse-like animals being put through their paces while being ridden by people standing on their backs. Sounds fun.

It’s in two hours, so we have plenty of time to stroll through rows and rows of outdoor stands selling arts and crafts and food.

After only ten minutes I’m almost on overload. We’ve seen paintings, leathercraft, beautiful dresses and shawls, interesting things made out of silky ribbons, as well as jewelry of every description. At almost every stall, Braxx finds something he thinks I’ll like and shows it to me.

“Would you like this, Angel?” he shows me a gorgeous pendant of silver, gold, and rose gold intertwined. The shine and patina of both the gold and the silver closely resemble the two handsome guys standing in front of me. With a little imagination, you’d think it was a lovely symbol of the three of us.

“You have a very good eye, B, but I’m sure we can’t afford that, and besides I don’t need it.” Even as I’m saying no, I caress it with my index finger. “It’s really beautiful, though.”

“Just like someone else I know,” he smiles and hands it back to the shopkeeper.

He’s so freaking sweet I just don’t have the heart to keep scolding him about calling me beautiful. I’ll let this personal battle go—for today.

As we walk from shop to shop, Axx stays close, his right hand possessively around my waist. At first, I wanted to push him away, but I have to admit I like his protectiveness. I feel safe with him. I realize I always have.

I’d expected to get a lot of judgy, disapproving looks as we walk along. Two guys escorting one girl. But this seems to be a complete non-issue. First of all, it’s a time-honored part of the Mythrian culture. Second, with the sea of diverse creatures we’re wading through, no one would have time to focus on something as benign as three people enjoying each other’s company.

And I am. I am enjoying both their company.

“Axx, remember the revensell we had when we were here as kids? It’s been almost thirty years and I can still almost taste how delicious it was,” B’s voice is happy and expectant.

“I do remember. Do you recall how huge it seemed? I imagine it wasn’t nearly as big as I remember.”

“If we see a revensell stand, I’m getting one, even if I’m not hungry.” Braxx’s eyes are shining in excitement. It tickles me the way he can be almost childlike in his enthusiasm. Then a picture of the look in his eyes the night of the massage arrows into my brain. He wasn’t so childlike then. My nipples harden; I wonder if they’ll show from under the silky fabric of my dress.

“Are you going to try it, Brianna?” Axx asks.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s not talking about having a sweaty threesome in their big bed. “Something so delicious you’re talking about it decades later? Count me in. What is it?”

“Meat on a bone roasted over a spit. It’s amazing,” Braxx answers. “Take a sniff, that’s probably what you smell.”

“But…” Axxios begins. “When we find a booth, one of us will buy it while you wait with the other.”

“Sure,” I shrug. “Why?”

“You...won’t want to see the beast it comes off of. There will be pictures of the animal prominently displayed. You won’t like them,” Axx explains.

“Look at me,” I motion down my body. “I am not a vegetarian. I’ve seen very cute pictures of all the animals I’ve eaten, and I’ve scarfed the food down anyway, much to the dismay of my vegetarian friends. But cute brown eyes or not, I love steak.”

“Trust me, Angel, you won’t want to see pictures of this one,” Axx says, shaking his head.

Axx just called me Angel. And it made me tingle from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. Especially in the middle. My nether region just flipped the switch from off to on. I can feel my pulse drumming between my legs.

“The animal is too cute?” Frankly, I don’t care. I’m just prolonging this conversation as an excuse to keep looking at him. His skin actually glistens in the sun—he’s beautiful.

“The animal is not cute. Brianna. Trust me on this. You’ll enjoy the revensell way more if you just imagine what it looks like.”

His expression changes from a serious warning look to a warm smile. Axxios is smiling at me! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him smile like that. It makes my clit tingle. If this keeps up it’s going to be a very long day.

I hadn’t realized, but Braxxus had been scouting ahead. He’s hustling back, barely using the wooden staff in his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Right down this aisle. The revensell looks great and smells fantastic. You were right, Axx, there are huge pictures of the revens at the front and back of the stall. I’ll buy us each one and then let’s check out the next aisle over.”

Now they’ve got my interest piqued. If I don’t see a picture today, I’m getting on the Intergalactic Database when I get home tonight.

Did I just call the Lazy Slacker home? This awareness jolts me. It’s been several months since I was kidnapped from my apartment. Do I really feel like the Slacker is home?

I search myself for a moment. Colorado is far behind me. We’ve all agreed none of us Earth women can go back. At this point, we’ve been gone too long. There are questions we just couldn’t answer. One of us would spill the beans and we’d either become lab rats at some secret, military black ops site, or we’d be locked away in the loony bin for the rest of our lives.

So if Denver isn’t my home, it’s clear that home is where I hang my hat. And that’s the Slacker , with all my friends. We’re like family, a great big slightly dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. I know without a doubt that everyone on board cares about me and would try to protect me if I needed it.

They’re all way too much in my business—just like real family. They call us Braxxianna, FFS. But they all want me to be happy. I feel peaceful inside, believing the truth of the statement that the Slacker is home and this is my adopted family.

I glance up at Axx, who’s scanning the crowd protectively while his hand absently caresses my side from hip to below my bust.

He’s not a bad male. I’m having a hard time remembering why I’ve been so angry at him. He’s been nothing but kind. From the first moment I was thrown into his cell, he tried to calm my nerves while never being condescending or sugar-coating the truth. It’s not his fault there’s something in his biology that gives him macho man syndrome.

Braxxus is approaching us. In addition to his staff, he’s trying to juggle three pieces of meat that look like something out of the Flintstones . These things are huge, like turkey legs only triple the size. Each one could feed a family of four for a week.

They both turn their attention to me as Braxxus hands me the haunch-o-brontosaurus. I’m not particularly optimistic even though it looks good and smells so delicious my mouth is watering. I probably should have just taken a look at the damn pictures in the stall. They couldn’t be worse than what I’m imagining in my head.

But I bite into it and the taste is amazing. The meat is so succulent and juicy I reach for the napkin Braxx is already handing me. My mouth is full of the delectable, hot meat and all I can do is nod and make a “yum” noise.

“We told you,” Axx smiles. Braxx says nothing. His mouth is so full, he’s not capable of anything other than chewing.

The guys make a point of making a U-turn so we don’t walk by the pictures they are convinced will offend me. If I can eat ham after seeing pictures of adorable piglets, I’m sure I’ll be able to tolerate seeing a reven .

We explore a little shop run by a wizened old humanoid with a green cast to his leathery skin. He’s making the most attractive shoes out of buttery-soft suede. I’d love a pair. We’ve had the damnedest time finding comfortable footwear in space, but he says he couldn’t possibly get them finished before tomorrow, even after we offer him a bribe.

The guys are entranced by a huge stall that specializes in knives. There are knives of every shape, size, and description from every planet in the known galaxy. It’s interesting for a minute, but by now I’m bored out of my mind.

“Guys, I know we’re not supposed to separate, but can I go look at the next couple of shops?” I lean closer and whisper, “I’ll scream if I need help. Promise.”

Axx’s eyes slit suspiciously. “No, Angel, I’ll go with you.”

“That’s sweet, but you’re fascinated here. Look,” I point, “I won’t go farther than that tree. Just a few shops up the path.”

When neither of them agrees, I offer, “I’ll stay in the middle of the path so you can see me at a glance.”

That seems to do the trick, and off I go. The next shop holds no interest for me. It's run by an exotic female selling potions. She has almost snow-white skin and green lips. She tries to get me to come closer so she can rub something into my palm, but I have a good excuse not to get lured in.

The next stall isn’t a stall at all. Toward the back of the space, there’s a rope hung between two trees about four feet off the ground. A multi-colored blanket is slung over the top of the rope, creating a triangular shelter like an old-fashioned pup tent.

But it’s not the tent that catches my attention, it’s the animal? Male? Being? Sitting to the side of it.

He’s definitely male. I know this because he’s wearing no clothes, not even a scrap of loincloth. His genitals are hanging out on display. He’s squatting, knees splayed wide, hands on the ground in front of him in a decidedly canine posture. His body seems otherwise humanoid.

He has pointed dog-like ears, mostly hidden by his unkempt black-and-brown brindle hair. He has one ice-blue eye, one deep brown. His face has canine aspects in a way I can’t quantify because what I’m really aware of is the fact that his entire attention—his entire being—is focused on the huge haunch of meat clutched in my hand.

I glance over at the guys and see that Axx is watching me like a hawk. I salute him with my free hand and give him a little smile, which seems to satisfy him; he turns his attention back to the display tables.

The dog-man’s attention hasn’t wavered from my revensell . His lips are pulled back, exposing some wicked canines. He’s salivating and producing a low growl from the back of his throat.

As I inspect him further, I notice what poor shape he’s in. I can see the outline of his bones through the skin on his legs and arms. His collarbones are pressing against the tanned flesh of his chest. This male is starving to death in front of my eyes!

My glance darts to the twins and I catch Braxx’s eye. He’s happy as always as he holds up a knife of some sort. I assume he’s picked something he wants to buy. I can’t help but remember how emaciated he was when he first came on board. He’d been so poorly treated, so abused he was close to death.

My eyes skitter to the male squatting in this open field. I don’t know if he’s even aware of my existence. He seems focused only on the meat clutched in my hand.

I take one tiny step forward and his eyes widen as his haunches lift higher, as if he’ll pounce the moment I get within the circle of his metal chain.

He’s staked to the ground, as well as wearing a pain/kill collar. He’s drooling more profusely now, deep growling noises are escaping from his mouth.

“Shut the drack up!” an angry male voice yells from under the blanket tent.

“Um,” I call. “Uh, sir, may I feed this…” I don’t know what to call the being on the chain.

A shaggy head and rotund torso protrude from the makeshift tent. He’s a heavy, porcine humanoid with upthrust tusks and rounded eyes. His belly and arms are huge and beefy, yet his legs are almost spindly. He’s old, with wrinkles that lie in thick, dirty folds. By the look of him, that face hasn’t smiled in a long time.

“Stand back, female. That geneslave’s a guard animal. He’ll maul you if you get too close.”

“He looks hungry.”

“He is. He’s always hungry. He’d eat half my paycheck if I let him.”

“I’m done with my revensell .” I hold it up; I’ve taken maybe ten bites. “Mind if I give it to him?”

“Sure, I’ll take it off your hands,” his voice is as oily as the rest of him.

“I’d like to give it to him myself if that’s okay. What’s his name?”

“Don’t have no name. I call him Drack . I’ll take that meat.” He points to the haunch with his filthy double chin.

How do I keep the food away from this asshole and get it to the poor...geneslave?

“He reminds me of my pet at home. I’d like to give it to him myself.”

The male on the chain seems completely uninterested in the verbal exchange between me and his owner. His eyes haven’t left the meat.

“Do what you want you crazy bitch,” the male says, then lazily ducks back into his tent.

I glance over and see Axx and Braxx in sober deliberations as they haggle with their shopkeeper. I know they’ll blow a gasket if they discover I’m doing this, so I move quickly.

I’m not stupid. I’m not getting close enough for those sharp canines to take a bite out of me. I grab a long stick off the ground nearby, wipe it on the inside hem of my dress, and poke it through the thickest part of the meat.

“Here you go, boy.” I lift the stick toward him and edge closer.

For the first time, his gaze leaves the food. He looks me straight in the eyes. I don’t know what a geneslave is, but I am absolutely certain he’s a sentient being. There’s intelligence in those large brown eyes.

My feet don’t leave the path. I’m not getting closer until I see how close that chain will allow him to get to me.

“Come on, boy. Come toward me until your chain is tight.”

Perhaps he understands me, because he approaches me on all fours. The chain isn’t tight yet, though.

“Hurry.” I glance at the guys. It looks like they’re almost done with their purchase. Somehow I know they’ll disapprove of me getting even this close to that drooling mouth full of sharp teeth.

He inches closer until the chain pulls at his throat, then comes a bit closer, as if to prove he’s at the end of his tether.

“There you go. Good boy.” I extend my stick just far enough for him to grab the meat with his hands. The whole time I’m coaching myself to just drop the stick if he tries to grab it and yank me toward him.

I shouldn’t have worried, though. He slides the meat off, turns his back to the tent and proceeds to inhale the meat at a shocking rate. The smacking noises he’s making are nauseating, but I guess they’re a product of getting as much food down your throat in the least amount of time possible.

“Did that stupid bitch give you all that meat, boy?” I hear from the sullen slaver. He pokes his greasy, snarled head out of the tent and moves to the male with surprising speed.

It’s like watching a race where you desperately want one contestant to win. I want the male on the ground to scrape every morsel off the bone before the approaching asshole gets to him. No wonder the geneslave was inhaling that meat. He knew he had less than a minute to get his fill before it was yanked away.

“Give me that, you piece of shit.” The old man kicks him soundly in his side. It doesn’t stop the dog-man, though. He just lies on the ground, his back toward his owner, and keeps tearing as much meat off the bone as is possible before the slaver touches the controller on his wrist to activate the geneslave’s pain/kill collar.

The geneslave lets out an agonized yelp, yet somehow keeps getting food into his mouth until the second shock. All his muscles go stiff as an unearthly pain-filled howl escapes his lips. Then he goes limp.

I must have screamed because Axx and Braxx are running toward me. I realize I have tears snaking down my cheeks. Although my captors never activated my collar, I’ve worn one. I can only imagine how painful that must have been for the male lying motionless on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Braxx asks as he leans his face into mine, eyes wide in fright.

I glance over to see Axxios nearby, gun drawn, ready to protect me.

“I’m fine, guys. It’s just…” I point to the supine figure on the ground. The old shithead must be back in his tent. “That male was starving. I gave him my revensell . His owner shocked him to steal the meat out of his hands.”

Axx, gun in hand, walks closer to inspect the male on the ground. “He’s a geneslave, Brianna. What were you thinking? How close did you get?”“I gave him the meat on a stick when he was at the end of his chain. I’m not stupid. What’s a geneslave?”Braxx’s arm circles my waist as he explains, “The Federation is rumored to be doing genetic experiments. I’ve heard they throw genetic material into a test tube, let it gestate, destroy the obvious deformities, and raise the rest. Sounds like they’re trying to breed the perfect soldier.

“They deny they’re doing such things, but rumor has it the Feds call them ‘Products.’ Folks around the galaxy call them ‘geneslaves’. ”

Axx stalks over, flanks my other side, pulls me toward him, and presses a close-lipped kiss to my temple. I look at him, one brow raised in question. I’ve seen Axx in many moods. Most of them naked and sweaty. I’ve never seen him tender before.

His response to my unspoken question is to give me a soft kiss on my mouth. “Don’t worry us like that again, Angel. Let’s all get back to the Slacker alive today,” he chuckles.

“We can’t leave him here. That old fucker is going to kill him. Look how thin he is.”

“We can’t bring every stray we find back on board our vessel, Brianna. Besides, geneslaves are part animal. We have no idea what that thing is capable of,” Braxx says.

“Look at him, Braxx. You were an inch away from death, and you weren’t even as thin as he is. He’s being beaten regularly, he’s malnourished. Don’t you feel for him?”

“Feel for him? Yes. Want to bring an unknown alien aboard our ship? No.” He shakes his head. “Besides, Captain Zar won’t allow it. He wouldn’t even let Petra come on board and she’s an Earth female. She had to buy her way onto our vessel. Our resources are limited.”

“Please?” Oops, did I really say that? Was I asking like a five-year-old asks her parents to bring home a stray?

“Did he speak to you, Brianna?” Axxios asks. “Is he even capable of speech? Is he a sentient being or just an animal?”

How odd that Braxx is the harsher of the two, and Axx is trying to persuade me with logic.

“No.”

“Earth must have been a wonderful paradise if every injustice bothers you so much. The rest of the galaxy isn’t such a nice place. There’s war and famine and slavery here. We can’t right every wrong or correct every abuse, Angel,” Axx says. “I’m sorry you can’t fix everything you see that pulls at your heart.”

I look at him to see if he’s mocking me, but his face is full of sweet concern. He kisses my forehead, like he’s bestowing all his strength and affection on me. This gesture is so tender my knees weaken. I have to reach up and hold onto his strong arms to steady myself.

“We can’t fix this, Angel. I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear and pulls me down the pathway.

I look back, the male is still lying in the dirt, unmoving. I keep telling myself there’s nothing I can do, but my stomach churns with guilt.