Page 33

CHAPTER 33

S he had eaten.

Unwillingly, reluctantly, but she had eaten—all of it.

He’d watched every motion of her mouth, every shift in her expression as she forced down the bland protein slurry, and he’d seen the moment… when something in her had changed. When her memories gave way to present necessity. When survival instincts overrode disgust.

Good.

That impressed him. And, with his changing impression came a curious sense of pride. She was a clever being, and she was his.

She was more intelligent than he’d initially assumed. More rational. Her emotions flared brightly, but she adapted. She endured. She was frightened, yes, but not paralyzed by fear. And not too proud to do what was necessary.

She hadn’t needed to be forced.

He was glad for that.

And when the light returned—if this planet had light in the morning, if Anakris obeyed any kind of reasonable solar cycle—he would find her something better. There had to be game in the mountains. The scanner had picked up heat signatures—fast-moving, four-limbed, warm-blooded. Huntable.

He would bring her meat, roasted over flame. Seared as his people had always prepared it. That would sustain her. Maybe she would even like it.

And now…

She lay curled in his lap.

Soft.

Warm.

Content.

Her breathing was steady now. Her body relaxed against his. The fur coat cradled her form, but it was her nearness—her scent —that kept his attention locked in place.

Not fully scented, not enough to trigger the physiological spiral he feared. His helm still filtered most of it, but enough passed through to stir something.

A faint spike of heat.

A slow, building pressure in his abdomen.

He didn’t look down at her. He stared past her, out into the black storm-torn void beyond the cockpit windows, watching the snow dance like ash.

And yet in the periphery of his senses, all his attention was on her .

How small she was.

How fragile.

And… how much pleasure her presence gave him.

It was… unfamiliar. Not carnal. Not yet. Well, perhaps not fully, only slightly. And warm. Dangerous in its softness. He’d never experienced this kind of stillness before. This quiet contentment that came not from dominance, but from simply being .

He flexed his hand lightly on her hip, noting the soft give of her form, the way she didn’t flinch, didn’t draw back.

She liked his touch.

He felt it. Knew it.

And worse, he wanted to explore it. To draw more out of her.

But he held back, because he knew .

If he removed his helm, if he took in her scent fully—if he let his senses become saturated with her—there was a high chance he might fall into heat, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself if that happened.

Because this human…

She had pheromones.

How, he didn’t know.

No species other than Hvrok could trigger the biological spiral. But his body was reacting. Just faintly. A whisper of it.

And that was enough to make him wary.

He shifted slightly, one arm steady around her, the other reaching out to the interface panel. He activated the ship’s systems with a low command.

The main power grid flickered.

The ship was uncloaked, visible to any who happened to come across it.

He expected that.

There wasn’t enough reserve energy to engage it.

There was a chance the Nalgar would find them. And if they did… he’d be ready .

He always was.

But now came the most important task.

He opened a channel: low-frequency, encrypted.

His voice was quiet and precise as he encoded the signal: strings of identification codes, old passwords, backchannel pings designed only for a specific class of recipient. The kind of people who knew who he was. What he could pay. What he’d done .

A contract killer as infamous as he was didn’t get retrieved for free.

He would offer something better than the bounty on his head.

He would offer wealth .

Real wealth. Not credits in the public ledgers, but what he kept hidden, stored deep in black-market drives at his fortress on Ivokka. No one knew about those places. Not even his enemies.

The message went out.

There was no response.

Yet.

He hadn’t expected one immediately.

He would wait. They would come.

And in the meantime…

He looked down at her.

Still, soft, her breath brushing against his bare chest, her fingers curled slightly against the fur draped across her lap.

The storm howled outside, but here, in this chair, in his arms, she was calm.

And he…

He was curious.

She wasn’t afraid now. Her body had accepted his touch. Her mind was quiet.

Perhaps, now, he could entertain her.

Perhaps… he could see what other reactions he could draw from her.

Not because he needed to, but because, for the first time ever…

He wanted to.