Page 31 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

Cordelia cursed under her breath, smacking the big metal appliance she’d seen Rentir using at the base to cook and rehydrate the weird foil ration packs that seemed to abound on this planet.

“What’s wrong with a fricking electric kettle?” she muttered.

They had rations that worked in a similar way and only needed a bit of hot water to rehydrate. She had to admit that the taste and texture of the alien rations were better, probably due to whatever extra steps this stupid, unworkable appliance involved.

“Allow me.”

She jumped, whirling so fast she banged her elbow against the aforementioned device. The corner caught her right in the joint of her elbow, sending white-hot pain pin-prickling up her arm. A wheeze of pain escaped her.

“Ah, I apologize,” Melam said, holding up all four hands. She was still learning what tail-flicks meant what, but she could have sworn his was amused. “I heard you struggling. Would you like me to show you how to use the rehydrator?”

“You should probably give me a wide berth,” she griped. “Rentir thinks the wolf-man routine has something to do with being around a female. If you go rabid on us, I don’t think even both of us combined can put you down.”

He seemed entertained by the thought. “No, I am sure you could not,” he agreed, taking a step back.

Rubbing her elbow as she glared up at the big alien bastard, she stepped aside and jerked her chin at the machine.

He really was a giant—he had to be seven feet tall.

He was covered in the same tattoo-like markings Haerune had.

That hair that would have been the envy of a mermaid was braided down his back.

She watched with stoic resentment as he showed her which order to press the buttons, and a few moments later the small door sighed open.

The scent of hot food nearly made her eyes roll back.

Ravenous hunger was one of the lingering symptoms of cryosleep.

She’d probably be punishing three times the normal amount of calories for the next month.

Muttering thanks, she carefully took the two hot plates from the rehydrator. Melam followed her as she carried it back to one of the dining tables, and she hovered awkwardly by a chair.

“Um… I only made enough for me and Ren, but I can…?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I woke and took my breakfast hours ago. I’ve been out in the forest since dawn hunting game. No need to feed me.”

Relieved, she sagged into her chair. “Well, if you don’t mind watching me eat, you’re welcome to have a seat.”

“Am I?”

Embarrassment made her cheeks flush as she realized she was inviting him to have a seat in what was essentially his own home, but she shrugged it off. “If you want.”

After a moment’s deliberation, he took the seat across from her. His chair creaked as he leaned back, crossing all those bulging arms over his broad chest. “How did you—”

“Do you have—”

They both spoke at the same time, halting abruptly. He blinked at her, the third eye out of rhythm with the other two, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Freaky.

“You may speak first.” He waved a blue hand toward her.

“Do you have any means of transportation here? We need to be able to cover more ground than we can on foot.”

“Why?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, eying him. “It’s confidential.”

“So, confide in me.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Why should I?”

He canted his head in that same curious gesture Rentir employed. “I saw the Aurillon shoot down that transport yesterday. The forest is still burning.”

She stared at him silently. Had her eye just twitched?

“I have not seen the hybrids mobilize like that before,” he continued. “And the timing—just after a strange ship was in our airspace? It seems as though they must be recovering something.”

Her leg began to bounce, but she still offered him nothing.

“Something the Aurillon do not want the hybrids to have.” He leaned forward, studying her intensely with all three opaline eyes. “Weapons? A means of long-range communication?” His eyes narrowed. “Or more like you?”

“Why wouldn’t they want the hybrids to have more like me?”

He sat back again and stroked a hand over his strong jaw. “I have not been able to puzzle that out myself, though we may have a hint in Rentir’s behavior. But it is the case, isn’t it? You are trying to retrieve the rest of your kind, and you’re in a hurry to do so.”

She shrugged noncommittally.

“How many do you number?” he asked.

“You don’t need to know.”

“Oh? Don’t I?” He sat back. “Not in quite such a hurry, then. Otherwise, you wouldn’t turn down help where you can find it.”

She sat forward, rapping her nails anxiously against the table as she contemplated what he was proposing. “Why should I trust you to help them?”

He gestured around the empty dining hall. “Do you have many options?”

She scowled. “Not good enough.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded.

“There is no one on this planet who is more adapted to the harsh conditions of this landscape than I. This is what I was bred for. I can track a jatir for a hundred kilometers through these forests. I do not need a scanner or a transport to find your kin and bring them back to safety.” He tilted his head, studying her again. “Does that suffice?”

She blew out a stiff breath, slumping back in her seat. “To be clear, if you betray my trust, if anything happens to one of my people on your watch, I’m coming for your throat.”

He smiled at that, flashing a mouth full of fangs. “As you say.”

“There were ten of us. Three were safely recovered when I left. One… One was taken to the Gidalan. That leaves five unaccounted for.”

His mouth had thinned at the mention of the Aurillon ship. “So, we are in competition to recover them.”

She nodded tightly. Silence fell between them as he mulled over what she’d told him.

“You were not the first to ask after a vehicle,” he said slowly, tapping the toe of his boot against the leg of the table. “Rentir was in a fervor about it last night. He was dismayed to learn that we do not keep the usual transports here.”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “You don’t?”

He shook his head, and the few metal beads in the braids by his face tinkled against each other. “We have bikes, however. I will permit you to use them, and I will aid you in your search.”

“Bikes?” She frowned at the thought of mountain biking through the uneven terrain, but then she processed the second part of what he’d said. She sat forward. “Melam… why are you so willing to help us?”

The look in his eyes grew flinty. “Because the Aurillon do not want the hybrids to have access to you females, and I wish to spite them. I would destroy them, given the chance. The males who died during the evacuation were my friends, my kin. I would avenge them.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she murmured.

“Just so.” He waved toward her food with one hand. “Now eat, before your rations grow cold.”

She felt bad eating without Rentir, but she was eager to get on the road now that they had a plan and an ally. Her plate was nearly clean when Rentir finally emerged. His short hair was still damp from the shower.

“There you are,” she called, setting her spoon down. “I made some food for you, but it’s…”

Rentir stopped a few steps away. His body language was stiff and tense, his breaths coming a little too fast. “Melam…” he grated. “Please.”

Melam caught onto the source of his distress faster than Cordelia. He rose smoothly, stepping back from the table and leaning against the next closest one. Rentir approached on wooden legs, dropping into the seat to Cordelia’s right. It put him between Cordelia and the other hybrid.

“I’m sorry,” Rentir mumbled, his eyes downcast.

“I suggested you were rabid before,” Melam mused, watching as Rentir began to eat.

“I have not ruled out the possibility, but thanks to Cordelia, another has occurred to me. Over the many years I’ve spent in these forests, I’ve had ample opportunities to observe the fauna.

One of the local creatures, the nithrax, is extremely protective of its mate during her breeding heat. ”

Cordelia choked on the bite of food she’d been swallowing, prompting Rentir to leap to his feet and thump her hard on the back until she could breathe again. Her eyes watered as she gulped down a stinging breath.

One of Melam’s hands came up to cover his mouth as he cleared his throat, and she could swear he was cutting off a laugh.

“What the hell are you saying?” she asked, slamming down her spoon.

Rentir growled at him from over her shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Nothing at all.”