Page 11 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

Cordelia ran down the halls in a mirror of the path Rentir had taken to bring her up to the break room.

“Cordelia!” he called after her. He spat something that sounded like a curse when she didn’t slow down.

Her hair whipped in her face as she skidded around a turn, frantically retracing her steps. Just as she reached the door they’d entered through, it opened with a metallic groan.

Three familiar faces stood just on the other side. A battered Pandora Jones—Lapillus’s would-be future physician—a black-eyed Nyx, and a relatively unscathed Lyra Albrecht. The latter eyed her up and down, arms crossed over her chest.

“Commander Normandy.” Lyra tossed her hair, whipping her long, blond braid over her sun-burned shoulder. She smoothed the rumpled fabric of her tank top, as if it were one of her tailored dresses, obscuring the pale strip of midriff that had been exposed.

“Miss Albrecht,” Cordelia said, nodding.

Pandora leaned heavily on Nyx, who already looked like she was barely keeping upright. There were purple twigs snagged in Pandora’s coiled curls, and a deep cut marred her glossy, dark skin just below her left eye.

Cordelia stepped up on Pandora’s other side, ducking under her arm so she could take the doctor’s weight. “We need to get you to medical. What the hell happened?”

Pandora limped along between them, blinking dazedly. “I don’t know,” she said in her characteristically soft tone. “It’s all a blur, at least until Nyx retrieved me from my pod.”

“She rolled down a fucking cliff,” Nyx said hoarsely.

“And you?” Cordelia asked.

“Slid down a fucking cliff to get to her.” Her prosthetic was deeply gouged and scratched, the glossy black finish worn off to the metal below. “Didn’t quite stick the landing.” She pointed to her dual black eyes.

“Cordelia,” Rentir called, finally catching up to her.

She kept walking toward him, but the other three stopped dead, causing her to pull awkwardly on Pandora’s arm. Pandora grunted in pain, her dark eyes glued to the towering purple man approaching them.

“Another one,” Lyra muttered, her eyes narrowing on Rentir.

“Rentir,” a deep, masculine voice rang out behind them.

Cordelia looked over her shoulder, amazed to find another equally bizarre alien approaching them. The pilot, surely.

He was a little taller than Rentir, and covered head to toe in shimmering green scales.

His nose was different than the others—still relatively flat, but narrower, with a triangular tip and slitted nostrils.

He had no horns, but he shared the strange, whip-like tail that Rentir had.

He also had four arms, like one of the other aliens she’d met in the hangar when they’d arrived.

It was a struggle not to gape at all those limbs.

She looked at his face instead, at the stark yellow of his eyes, slitted with the same vertical pupil Rentir had.

“Lidan,” Rentir called back in greeting.

Lidan stepped around them, reaching out to clasp one of Rentir’s wrists in all four hands.

Rentir returned the gesture, and they broke apart as Lidan clapped one hand on Rentir’s back.

They turned to eye the human women, murmuring low to one another.

Cordelia could only make out a word here and there—females, pods, wreckage.

“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?” Cordelia snapped. “My crew needs medical attention.”

Rentir winced, but Lidan only looked at her like she was a bug that had done something interesting.

“Move,” she said in a commanding tone.

Rentir grabbed Lidan by one of his elbows and pulled him aside so they could carry Pandora past. She retraced her path to the medical room with Rentir following on their heels.

He reached past when they approached the door, allowing the scanner to read his palm.

The door hissed open, revealing Haerune as he stood before walls of text, stroking his chin.

He turned to look at them with obvious annoyance, but his expression shifted to curiosity when he realized they weren’t alone.

He, Rentir, and Lidan went back and forth in another mostly-untranslated conversation as she and Nyx half-carried Pandora over to the open pod. Pandora seemed less bothered by her injuries, her head swiveling back and forth as she observed the medical facility with keen interest.

Cordelia nudged Nyx out of the way.

“Brace yourself, doc,” Cordelia warned, bending to scoop up Pandora’s legs and tuck them up into the pod.

Pandora didn’t lie back immediately. She was braced on her hands, twisting as she tried to study the shifting graphics of alien anatomy behind Haerune.

“Okay, medical attention first, obsession with science second.” Nyx pressed down on Pandora’s shoulder until she lay back.

“Tyrant,” Pandora murmured mildly, shifting to get comfortable on the cushioned surface.

The pod’s lid lowered over her, and a few moments later her eyelids fluttered shut.

Cordelia turned to the others. Nyx was scowling in the middle of the room, arms crossed over her chest, while Lyra stood off to the side with her shrewd gaze taking in everything.

Haerune stepped around Nyx carefully, his tentacles slithering over his far shoulder to avoid brushing against her. Rentir huffed, his tail flicking.

“Skor istal female, Haerune?” Lidan asked in a tone that was clearly mocking.

Haerune’s tentacles coiled. He gestured at Nyx in a way that clearly said ‘be my guest’ and said something that didn’t translate. Lidan snorted. With an expression that spoke of mock fear, he reached out both right hands toward Cordelia.

Between one blink and the next, Rentir had him by the neck of his flight suit, pinned against the wall as he snarled.

The tip of his tail had changed shape, the scales shifting impossibly until it ended in a razor-sharp spearhead.

The sharpened end whipped toward Lidan’s throat, only to be caught in the snare of the other alien’s tail.

They battled inches from Lidan’s throat, grappling for supremacy.

“Rentir,” Lidan rasped. The rest of his words were unintelligible, but the tone was clear: what the fuck? He used all four arms to shove Rentir back, and they both breathed heavily, tension thick in the air between them.

“What was that about?” Nyx asked, hedging closer to Cordelia.

“Uh… I don’t know,” she said. “He’s… protective?”

“Is he?” Lyra chimed in, slanting that catlike green gaze her way. Even battered as she was, she had the bearing of an heiress. “Why is that, do you suppose?”

“Couldn’t say. I’m not the xenobiologist.”

“Fuck. Celeste,” Nyx muttered. “She’s still out there somewhere, isn’t she? What the fuck is going on here, anyway, Commander? Who are these guys? What’s with the big fucking ship in orbit blasting lasers?”

“I don’t know,” Cordelia repeated. “But I’m working on it. Hey, Rentir!”

He looked back at her dazedly, the scales on his tail flattening back into their less threatening shape. She held up her wrist and pointed at the translator, then at the other women.

He said something that she took as understanding, moving toward the door. He hesitated at the threshold, looking back at Lidan. After a moment of indecision, he crossed the room again to grab the other alien, then dragged him out with a warning barked at Haerune.

The pod whirred open, revealing a much less battered Pandora. The darkness under her eyes was less severe, and the small cut on her forehead was healed over. She blinked slowly, her head lolling toward them. A lazy smile stole over her face.

“That was amazing,” Pandora said, clearly still a little out of it.

Haerune gestured to her, clearly not compelled toward any kind of chivalry.

“You’re not a doctor, are you?” Cordelia asked in a mocking tone that she hoped came across to him as she helped Pandora out herself.

“Oh, be nice,” Pandora rolled her shoulders as she sat up with Cordelia’s help. “I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

“You are like, pathologically too nice.” Nyx side-eyed the doctor. “Seriously, I can’t believe you’ve even made it this far.”

“Don’t be rude, Nyx. It doesn’t suit you,” Pandora said as she studied her own unmarred skin with fascination.

“Yeah, I’m known all over for my enchanting personality and shit,” Nyx muttered.

Haerune caught her eye, and she lifted her lip at him in obvious distaste. When his eyes narrowed, Nyx flipped him the bird; he frowned in obvious bafflement at the gesture.

“Nyx,” Cordelia barked, folding the finger back down.

“Sorry, sir.”

“The golden standard of first contact, this crew is not,” Lyra murmured. She picked at some dirt beneath her nails.

“I’m sorry, think you can do better?” Nyx goaded.

“Not with you for company.”

Nyx took a step toward her, hands curling into fists. “You’re the one who dragged my ass out here to get stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere!”

Lyra tossed her hair. The muscles in Nyx’s arm rippled with obvious intent. Cordelia caught her by the shoulder, shooting her a warning glare. The officer sighed, lifting her hands in surrender.

“I’m really tired of this rich bitch, and she’s only been awake for thirty minutes,” Nyx muttered, pacing away.

Pandora was back on her feet. She padded over to stand beside Haerune to study data that she surely couldn’t interpret. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she rocked thoughtfully on her feet. Haerune hedged away from Pandora like she was radioactive, frowning down at her.

“Your turn,” Cordelia said, urging Nyx toward the pod.

Nyx glowered, but she climbed inside without complaint.

Rentir returned while the pod worked to mend Nyx’s bruised face, holding three of the silver bracelets and a handful of the earbuds.

“Pandora,” Cordelia said.

Pandora turned to them, curiosity plain in her expression. Cordelia took the bracelets from Rentir.

“Your arm.” Cordelia beckoned, and Pandora offered her arm up readily.

She didn’t flinch as the metal slithered around her wrist, locking into place.

It binged cheerfully and began its alien spiel, some of which Cordelia could understand now.

She turned to Lyra next, who stoically offered her wrist up. “This next part kind of sucks.”

Cordelia explained the earbuds to each of the women.

Pandora put hers in without hesitation. The only indication of her discomfort was the way her brows knitted together, and her nose scrunched.

It set Lyra up for failure; the heiress crumpled to her knees when the buds began to dig in her ears.

Lyra tried to fish them out the same way Cordelia had.

Cordelia had to wrestle her to the ground until it was over, and they were both sweating and panting when Lyra finally fell still.

The pod whirred open again.

“Oh hell yeah,” Nyx said, smiling blearily. “We’re beating up the rich girl? I’m all over this.”

“The rich girl funded this mission,” Lyra grated, shoving Cordelia off and scooting until she could sit up. “She pays your very hefty salary.”

“Pfffffffft. What salary? You think they take American dollars, lady?” Nyx pointed drunkenly at Rentir and Haerune, who were watching them like they were zoo animals.

“We’re so fucked.” Nyx wailed, tears tracking down her temples.

“Dude, I’m never gonna see my little brother again.

” She rubbed her knuckles into her eyes like a child. “This is so messed up.”

“Officer Briganti.” Nyx’s face lolled toward the sound of Cordelia’s hardened voice. “Pull yourself together.”

Nyx took a shuddering breath, sighed, and nodded. “Yes, sir.” She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the pod.

Cordelia gave her a bracelet and encouraged her to put in the earbuds before her sedative wore off. Nyx cursed and rubbed at her ears as the buds burrowed in, but she was clearly determined to handle it better than Lyra had.

When they were finished, Cordelia showed them how to bring up the holoscreen and teach the translator more words.

“Alright, listen up.” Cordelia clapped her hands to bring the attention back to herself.

“We’re going to go get everyone something to eat, and then we’re going to spend every waking moment talking to these damn bracelets until we can communicate with the locals and figure out what the fuck is going on and how to round up the rest of our people. Understood?”

Pandora and Nyx echoed a “Yes, sir,” while Lyra stared blankly at her.

“I’ll take it,” Cordelia muttered, rubbing the aching spot between her brows.