Page 56 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

“Where are the masks?” Rentir called over the din of the crowd gathered in the hangar. “Hey—you! Away from the women until you have a mask!”

The miner in question glared at him, but he complied, skulking away from where he’d been trying to engage Seren in conversation.

She looked relieved by his departure, her shoulders easing from where they’d been tucked up around her ears.

Her attention turned back to Lidan, who was showing her something in one of the Litha’s engines.

Seren shook her head, reaching in after him with a gloved hand.

All the women were wearing gloves and full gear, covering as much skin as they could to reduce the risk of an accidental bonding.

Those with long hair had bound it up into braids and buns.

Haerune felt confident that the presence of masks with the Aurillon soldiers had to do with scent markers, so the miner’s work masks were being distributed to the males who would come into contact with the humans.

Rentir wasn’t wearing one. Thalen was sure from Elten’s ramblings that they couldn’t bond with more than one woman at a time, and he was wholly spoken for.

He picked Cordelia out of the crowd. She was standing at the wing of the Litha, watching the others make their final preparations with a shrewd gaze.

As though she could feel the touch of his gaze, she turned toward him and picked him out of the others unerringly.

Her gaze darkened as the corner of her mouth quirked up, and he felt an answering flood of heat and affection.

He strode over to her, sliding his hand around the bare nape of her neck and pulling her onto her toes for a kiss.

Someone whooped and whistled nearby, and she put her hands on his chest to shove him away, but he snaked a hand around the small of her back and hugged her closer.

With a huff against his lips, she softened, letting him deepen the kiss.

When he finally let her go, she dabbed at her wet lips with her sleeve, casting him a droll look. “That was unprofessional.”

He frowned at the criticism, his tail twitching. “My form is lacking? I will endeavor to improve.”

She rolled her eyes strangely and patted him hard on his arm. “Never mind, Ren. Are your men ready to go?”

He turned, looking at the group gathering around Thalen and Yelir. Ven met his eye as he donned a mask, dipping his head in acknowledgment.

“I believe so.”

Her eyes searched his as he turned back to her, and she brought a hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over him in that soothing way. “And you? Are you ready?”

He pressed his hand over hers, nuzzling into the touch. “To follow where you lead? Always.”

At that, her expression softened. She dragged him down for another kiss, this one slow and sweet and lingering.

When she drew away, she kept her forehead pressed to his.

“Whatever happens today, you’re coming back with me,” she murmured.

“Alive, you understand? You don’t get to leave me behind now. It’s too late for you to bail out.”

“I told you—where you lead, I must follow,” he replied, turning his head to press a kiss to her palm. “As long as you are in this world, I cannot leave it.”

He kissed her again, pouring all his roiling, breath-stealing emotions into the press of their lips.

There were no tongues nor the desperate heat that usually hounded him—just the need to convey something too powerful for mere words.

The smallest whimper escaped her throat; he was holding back one of his own.

“You’re never getting away from me,” he breathed against her mouth.

She bit her lip, emotion swimming in her eyes as they dipped back toward his mouth, but a loud noise startled them apart. To their left, Lidan had slammed the casing of the engine shut. He held up a thumb in response to Rentir’s reprimanding look, which Rentir blinked at in confusion.

“It mean’s ‘all is good’,” Lidan said, raising his voice over the hum of conversation around them. “Eunha taught me.”

Skeptically, Rentir mirrored the gesture. Cordelia snorted derisively.

“Alright,” she muttered to herself. “Let’s do this.”

She turned away from them and fitted two fingers in her mouth, and whistled loud enough to nearly pierce his eardrum. “Rally up!”

Eunha and Nyx hustled over from the other women to join their Commander.

When the hybrids only stared at her, Cordelia’s expression hardened. “That means you, aliens! Get over here and get ready to be briefed!”

Yelir shared a look with Ven, but when Thalen strode over to join her, the others followed.

Lidan sidled up beside Eunha, who gave him a disdainful look when one of his elbows bumped her shoulder.

Xeth lagged behind, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes straying to where Seren stood with the women.

Those not joining them listened in from the perimeter of the inner circle, murmuring low as Cordelia addressed the group.

“We get one shot at this,” she said, hands on her hips, her flinty gaze traveling over each of them.

“That means no fuck-ups, no second thoughts, no hesitation. You falter, we fail. We fail, we forfeit not only the freedom of my captured crew, but all the hybrids on board. We get in, we get our people, we put the Gidalan down.”

Murmurs of assent filled her pause.

“Lidan is going to lead the charge and buy us the distraction we need to get up to the Gidalan. Fendar will temporarily overwhelm their communications, but the ship’s AI will recover quickly, so we have a narrow window to get on board and press the advantage of surprise as far as we can.

“Our goal is to take the ship, but it’s secondary to getting the innocents on board to safety. If something goes wrong on my end, Eunha takes command and you do everything to can to get the hybrids planetside.”

Eunha stood at attention and saluted with a “Yes, sir!”.

After a moment of study, the hybrids followed suit.

Cordelia’s eyes widened marginally, and she coughed awkwardly into her fist.

Fendar cleared his throat. “If I may?”

Cordelia gestured for him to proceed with a flourish.

He turned to face the others. “In the time since the women crashed, we have encountered several soldiers wearing state-of-the-art battlesuits. That means nanotech—self-healing armor that cannot be easily penetrated at a distance or with non-energy weapons. Rentir doesn’t believe that all the guards on board will be outfitted with the tech because of the expense, but we can’t rule out the possibility. ”

An uneasy murmur spread over the gathered males.

“I have a solution, albeit a limited one. If I had more time…” He sighed, shaking his head.

From the inner pocket of his jacket, he drew a small, black puck, holding it up for all to see.

When he pressed it, the device emitted a shrill sound that made all the hybrids cringe in pain.

He quickly shut it off. “This device will disrupt the nanotech of their suits, giving you an opportunity to deal damage that isn’t instantly repaired, but my supply is limited.

I can supply a puck to each team. If it’s damaged, you’re on your own to find a way to destroy them. ”

When they were passed out, Fendar stepped aside, transferring the group’s attention back to Cordelia. In the way that Thalen sometimes did, she seemed to transform as her gaze swept over the team gathered before her. She seemed larger somehow, more imposing, and Rentir felt a swell of pride.

“I won’t lie to you—the odds are stacked against us.

The Aurillon are more technologically advanced than any enemy I ever faced on Earth.

They have the weapons, the numbers, the home turf, but there is something vital that they are missing.

Something I doubt they even truly understand.

” Her face hardened, and she pounded her chest. “They don’t have the heart.

They’re fighting for profit. For comfort.

For the right to reign in opulence over those they consider their lessers. We fight for freedom!”

A roar went up at that.

Thalen moved to stand beside her, and she dipped her head to him in acknowledgment, gesturing that he should continue.

He paced back and forth, looking each hybrid in the eye. “We have overcome impossible odds already. Don’t forget why they’re cowering up there on that spaceship instead of fighting us on the ground. They’ve seen what we are capable of, and they live in terror of our might!”

Another roar of agreement.

“Today, we will overcome the odds again. Today, and every day after. They may have made us, but they will never own us. Today, we take back Yulaira!” Thalen pounded his fist over his heart.

“We will show the Aurillon what always comes to tyrants, and we will make sure they never forget!” Cordelia continued, earning whoops of agreement from the human women.

“For Yulaira!” Yelir shouted, joining them. “For what we are owed! For all that they have taken from us!”

The roar grew deafening with the chants of “for Yulaira!” Hybrids beat a rhythm against anything they could reach—shells of old vehicles, fuel drums, their own chests.

All the fine hairs on Rentir’s body stood on end. So, this was what a force united felt like. This was what it meant to stand for something bigger than one’s own survival.

His eyes met Cordelia’s, and his breath was swept away by the fierce resolve that burned in her. He bowed his head in deference to her. Her chin hiked in answer. The look she gave him was half pride and half simmering heat. She turned her attention back to the crowd.

“Alright! We’re burning daylight. Any last questions before shit hits the fan?” she called. “No? Alright, let’s move out!”

The crowd thinned, and Cordelia’s makeshift squadron made their way onto the stolen dropship.

Lidan bounded up the ramp of the Litha, and a moment later it was whirring shut.

Eunha lingered in the door of the dropship, her expression inscrutable as she watched the Litha’s engines warm up.

Lidan looked down at her from the cockpit, grinning as he settled his headphones over his ears.

He held up a thumb to her, and her throat worked as she blinked rapidly.

Eunha nodded. His smile broadened before he turned back to his controls.

Cordelia clapped a hand on Eunha’s shoulder, sharing a meaningful look with her before urging her on board the dropship.

She turned back to him, standing on the ramp with one hand on the door frame and the other on her hip.

She had the powerful, regal bearing of the Aurillon elite, and the strength of will of their greatest soldiers.

He couldn’t believe this was the woman who had agreed to have him.

In all the galaxy, he, Rentir, had somehow lucked his way into the most brilliant and incredible mate.

“You coming or what?” she called, arching a brow at him.

Smiling broadly, too overcome by his love for her to feel the weight of the looming danger they were facing, he bounded up the ramp to meet her.