Page 7 of Guardian's Soul (Space Guardian's Mate #2)

HANNAH

The most excruciating pain I'd ever experienced in my life sliced through me. It felt as if someone was pulling my nerves from my arm and side. No, scratch that, as if someone had laid them open and was setting them on fire.

I contorted in pain, barely aware of a set of arms holding me against a wide chest. I briefly thought the pain might be from my arms having been tied for too long, but then I saw black lines emerging, creeping up and down my skin. Like tattoos being inked by invisible hands using acid.

Hysterically, I slapped at my arm, clutched at the black lines that resembled tribal tattoos, without any success in stopping them or taking them off.

The silver alien was still holding me, but I noticed that he, too, was tensing in pain. The same black lines that were appearing on my skin were also on his.

Was this some kind of alien disease?

"What did you do to me?" I screamed right before I clenched as another spasm of pain overwhelmed me.

Oh my God, was this how I would die?

"It's gonna be all right." The alien tried to reassure me .

But how could I trust him? As far as I knew, he was no different from the Cryons who had abducted me from Earth. The moment the pain began to ebb, leaving a dull throb in its place, I stumbled backward, breaking free from his grasp.

My heart pounded as I stared at him, taking in the black lines etched across his muscular chest and arms—a mirror of the ones still tingling on my skin.

"Stay back," I warned, my voice shaky but determined. I pressed myself against the cool metal wall of the ship, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

The man raised his hands, palms out, his black eyes unreadable. "I swear, I didn't cause this. I'm just as confused as you are."

I wanted to believe him. Part of me longed for the comfort of his embrace, not to have to face this terrifying situation alone. But the larger part, the survivor in me, screamed caution. I'd learned the hard way that trust was a luxury I couldn't afford.

"How do I know this isn't some alien trick?" I demanded, hating how my voice quivered. "These marks, this pain—it started the moment you touched me."

His expression was hard, unreadable. A flicker of disdain crossed his features, but his voice was soft and soothing, like someone attempting to tame a wild animal. "I understand your suspicion. But I swear on my life, I'm here to help you. The Space Guardians?—"

"The Space Guardians?" I scoffed, cutting him off. "And I'm supposed to believe they sent you to rescue me?"

I took a step forward, anger fueling my courage. "Tell me the truth. What do you really want from me?"

As I moved closer, something strange happened. The black lines on my skin began to hum. I gasped, a sudden warmth spreading through my body.

The alien's expression changed into disbelief, making me assume the same thing was happening to him .

"What… what's happening?" I whispered.

A tingling sensation raced along my nerves, and for a moment, I swore I could feel echoes of the alien's confusion. It was as if our very souls were reaching out to each other, defying the walls of mistrust I'd built.

I stumbled back again, the intensity of it all overwhelming me.

"Make it stop," I pleaded, though I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or whatever cosmic force had decided to play this cruel trick on us.

He seemed more annoyed about dealing with me than sympathetic, but hey, we were both in the same boat. I'm not a fan of yours either .

"I believe these are mating marks," he finally said with an expression that bordered on horrified.

"Mating, what?" I cried out. Great, my rescuer was a lunatic as well. I wondered what contest in hell I had won to be first abducted by the cruelest species known to the universe, only to be rescued by someone whose marbles weren't all in line.

The humming of the lines gradually subsided. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake off the lingering sensation of our bizarre connection and conversation.

"Mating marks," he repeated. "Some species in the universe receive them when they meet their fated mate ." If it had been an alien thing, I was sure he would have put quotation marks around the words fated mate .

"When you say some…" I fumbled to find the right words. "Does that mean yours? Because you and I are clearly not of the same species."

"No, we're obviously not. Look. Believe it or not, the Pandraxian hired me to save as many humans as possible and take them to Astrionis."

I held up my hand to stop him right there. "Hold on. First, I'm still at mating marks , and second, who the hell are Pandraxians and what is Astrionis ?"

His sigh was deep, growly, and impatient. He gave me an impertinent once-over and then proceeded to talk to me like a petulant child, grating on my last nerves.

"Look. I realize you've been through an ordeal. You're tired, and you"—again, he looked me up and down—"are in need of a cleansing cycle."

I bit my tongue because he was right on all accounts. Blue blood still stuck to me, and frankly, it was revolting. I nodded for him to continue.

"I need to get this ship up and set a course. If you could trust me for that long, I will try to answer your questions."

Do I have a choice? I pondered.

I didn't know where he was going to take me or what his intentions were. But what worked in his favor was his clear dislike for me—a notion we both shared—therefore, if he wished to get rid of me, he could have simply kicked me out, abandoned me, or even killed me. So there was that.

And there was the lure of the cleansing cycle . I hoped that meant something like a shower. The Cryons had allowed me to use a shower before the auction, and I wished I could have enjoyed it, but being ripped from my cell with eight other women and told to shower and to put on the scraps of clothing they handed us had given the whole shower a foreboding feeling.

"All right." I conceded.

"All right?" He checked, probably not ready to believe me.

"Yeah, lead the way."

Keeping a healthy distance, I followed him into the ship's interior.

The corridor was a marvel of alien technology, all smooth curves and dimmed but adequate lighting. I might have admired it if I had not been so tired, dirty, and petrified. As it was, I barely took my eyes off the alien.

"What's your name? I'm Hannah."

He stiffened but didn't turn. "Tharaax."

Great. That was a mouthful. "Can I call you Thar?"

He repeated, "I'm Tharaax. T-h-a-r-a-a-x. Tharaax."

"Yeah, that's just a few too many A s for me, buster. How about Thrax instead?"

He grunted an answer, leaving me to interpret it as a yes or no .

Good, Thrax it was.

When we were still a few feet away, one of the doors in the sides of the hallway opened soundlessly to a small, inviting room.

"Your quarters for the duration."

I stepped inside while my mind raced a hundred miles an hour. I barely took in the interior or the large window that gave a view of the spaceport. All that mattered to me was to find some kind of weapon I could use should this alien get any wrong ideas. A heavy rock on a table looked like it might do the trick. I didn't want to be too obvious and make a sprint for it just then, but I cataloged it.

"The cleansing unit is over here." Another door opened as silently as the first. Since he didn't make a move to go inside, I stepped by him to explore.

A tubular thing stood in one corner. "The cleansing unit, I believe you humans call it shower."

"Us humans? You've met more of my people?"

His face scrunched up, displeased. "Unfortunately."

I waited for a beat, but he didn't elaborate.

"All right, how does this thing work?"

He approached it, and the walls of the cylinder moved to the side, kind of like one of those rotating X-ray machines, only larger .

"Step inside and activate the cycle by saying cleanse . You can also tell it hotter or colder."

"Great, like a carwash," I snarked.

"Once you're finished, simply notify it to dry you too," he instructed, unperturbed.

"Okay, cleanse, hot, cold, stop. Got it."

"I will be back once I get us off this godsforsaken piece of galaxy trash."

I wondered if galaxy trash was similar to trailer trash but decided I didn't care. Right now, all I wanted was the promised shower.