Page 62 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

Fifteen Minutes Ago

Rentir paced the hall for a third time, his tail thrashing behind him. Every fiber of his being itched to crawl after Cordelia, but it wasn’t possible. All he could do was wait and pray that she was able to find someone to end the lockdown without coming to harm.

“You should conserve your energy,” Thalen said sagely, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“That is easy for you to say. You do not know this itch beneath your skin. My world is not right when she is not with me.”

Thalen rubbed at his chest with one hand, just over his heart, frowning. “I may understand more than you think.”

Rentir stopped dead, looking over at the male in shock. Cold dread followed. “Who?” he rasped, muscles tensed in anticipation.

He’d been in close contact with Cordelia that day. Could it be…

Thalen huffed, rolling his eyes. “It is not your human, Rentir. Breathe.”

Relief sang through him. “Then who?”

Thalen rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth flattening. “…Sophia. It is not so intense as you describe, only a faint stirring, but I have felt the distance this day. It gnaws at the edges of my mind.”

Rentir barked a laugh, prompting a glare from Thalen.

“What is funny?” he demanded.

“She nearly killed you.”

Thalen rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air. “Nonsense.”

“It took the medpod hours to mend you!”

“Rubbish.”

Rentir regarded him silently, wondering if he was imagining the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Does she know?”

Thalen shifted restlessly, his tail twitching. “No. It is too soon. I would not put such pressure on her.”

Rentir nodded, though the self-restraint was a mystery to him. “She seems kind.”

Thalen’s mouth tugged to one side in a lopsided smile. “She is.”

“I wish you happiness with her.”

Why did he look so surprised by that sentiment?

“You’re a good male,” Rentir said, beginning to feel awkward. “I am grateful to you for your belief in me. I know that many called for my death after the rebellion. It would have been a simple thing to appease them, but you had faith that I could be of use one day.”

Thalen’s expression softened. “It was not that I had faith that you would be of use,” he corrected. “It was that I had faith there was goodness in you, too.”

Rentir’s tail lashed as his throat grew tight, and he found he could no longer meet the male’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said thickly.

Thalen straightened suddenly. “Do you hear that?”

Rentir held his breath, straining his ears to hear past the sirens, and sure enough, there was the faintest sound of boots over metal.

“They’re coming,” Thalen growled, drawing his blaster.

Rentir followed suit, and they flattened themselves to the wall on either side of the door, for what little good it would do them.

The door shot open in a gust of air. They turned toward the danger, bracing for blaster fire—but it never came. A shivering, bloodied Elten stood on the other side of the door, cradling an arm against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his one good eye flicking between them both. “Forgive me, please forgive me. They told me I would have a female, that I would never have to be alone again.” He slumped to his knees and sobbed, staring up at Thalen, who crouched before him.

“What happened to you?”

“I wanted to go home,” he said again, reaching out to clutch at Thalen’s sleeve. “But there is no home to go to. I understand now. Relden was my home, and he is dead.”

Rentir shared a look with Thalen at the mention of Elten’s twin, and he knew Thalen was thinking of his own brother. Pity welled in his eyes, and Rentir sighed in understanding. They were about to help this broken male, this traitor, and Rentir could hardly object, given his own history.

“We need to reach the bridge, Elten,” Thalen said slowly. “Can you help us?”

Elten shook his head, wide-eyed. “No, no, no, we cannot. The Lord Commander is coming. We must leave now. Must take a pod and run!”

“I cannot leave. My female is on this ship, and I will die before I leave her,” Rentir snapped, losing his patience.

Elten stared up at him in wonder. “You… you have a female?”

“Do you have clearance to open these doors during lockdown?” Thalen interrupted.

Elten blinked at him. “S-some of them.”

Rentir grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him to his feet, dragging him down the hall toward the bridge.

“No!” Elten flailed, nearly taking out Rentir’s knees with his massive tail. “We cannot go this way! We cannot! They are—”

He yanked Elten’s palm to the next scanner, wrestling the larger male as he struggled, and the door sprang open to reveal an empty corridor.

Elten sagged in his grip with relief—at least until Rentir began dragging him along again.

He loosed a stream of breathless protests, but Rentir was beyond mercy.

Have to reach Cordelia. He slammed Elten’s hand against the next panel, jerking him back as it whooshed open.

Voices drifted from the left end of this forking corridor.

It was the last between them and the stairwell that led to the next level.

He shared a look with Thalen, and Elten used the moment of distraction to finally writhe out of his grip.

He sprinted away before Rentir could react.

Rentir’s body moved reflexively to reclaim his prisoner, but he stopped himself. There was no point.

They were nearly there. The guards ahead would have clearance to move through the halls, surely. His eyes flicked toward the scanner.

“We only need a hand,” Thalen murmured, sharing his very thought.

With a nod, he raised his blaster and led them forward. The corridor forked. He pressed himself against the left wall, straining his ears to hear past the sirens.

Soft chatter from guards—maybe two or three, at a guess. He looked to Thalen, who dipped his chin in a nod. He stepped around Rentir and raised the muzzle of his rifle, squeezing off three quick shots before the murmurs of the guards rose to shouts.

Rentir shot blindly around the corner as Thalen ducked back behind the cover of the wall.

“Only one left,” Thalen said, popping the heat sink on his rifle.

Rentir waited for a pause in the plasma fire and leaned out. His eyes found the guard quickly, even in the strobing lights. He fumbled with his rifle, his hands tangling in the strap across his chest as he tried to pull it back around. Rentir squeezed the trigger, and that was the end of it.

They hustled over to the stairwell door. Thalen didn’t hesitate, cleanly slicing off the hand of a guard with his scyra and using it to unlock the barrier.

“That was almost too easy,” Thalen said, backing through the doorway.

They climbed the stairs two at a time. When they reached the top, they found the hall ominously empty. The door to the bridge lay before them, unguarded.

He hastened forward, too intent on reaching Cordelia to linger on the strangeness of it. When Thalen brought the hand to the scanner… nothing. The door didn’t budge.

“He must not have clearance,” Thalen said, frowning down at the bloodless limb.

“Rentir.” The voice over the intercom sent ice sliding down his spine.

Foolishly, he would have thought himself beyond its effects only a few moments before. Now, he understood how deeply his education in pain truly ran. Fear and subservience seemed etched into his bones. His back tensed in reflex for the lashings to come.

“I was sure you were dead,” the voice continued in a familiar, lazy drawl. “It wasn’t until Elten joined us that I saw the evidence for myself. Rentir, my most loyal pet, turned against me. Your creator. Your god.”

A shudder rolled through him. Shame bowed his head.

“Ignore him,” Thalen said tightly, squeezing his shoulder. “Perhaps there is another way around. We’re nearly there, Rentir. Don’t lose hope now.”

He left Rentir’s side to search the hall, skimming for another service panel.

“Now you’ve come to… what, exactly? Take control of the ship? Is this elaborate plan part of some desperate ruse to impress the female on my bridge?”

He stiffened, his head jerking up, eyes darting for the source of the threat to Cordelia despite his knowledge that the male could be on the other end of the ship.

“Does she know what you are?” The Lord Commander continued, his voice dripping with condescension.

“A traitor twice over. Is that the sort of thing which appeals to human females?” He hummed thoughtfully.

“I suppose it makes a certain sense. They were a truly primitive species. The best thing they ever did for the galaxy was annihilating themselves before it fell to someone else.”

The auretian leader sighed heavily.

Down the corridor, Thalen cursed beneath his breath. He shook his head sharply.

No way around. The only way was through, then. He looked helplessly back at the door that separated him from Cordelia.

“It is not too late, Rentir. I have invested such time into you, such effort. It would be a shame to waste it. Come back to me, my pet.” His tone changed to a commanding one. “Drop your weapon.”

His hand loosened reflexively, nearly sending his blaster clattering to the ground, but the last thread of his willpower held.

“We go back,” Rentir said, ignoring his former master. “We backtrack until we find someone with the authority to open the door.”

Thalen nodded, and together they made for the stairwell door. They took three steps before plasma fire battered the railing beside them. Hot slag flew at Rentir’s face, tracing across his cheek in a scalding path.

“There’s too many!” Thalen shouted over the endless whine of blasters.

They backtracked into the brief reprieve of the hall, where there would be nowhere to hide in a matter of moments. They may as well be firing targets.

“You didn’t think it would be so simple, surely?” The Lord Commander taunted. “Now, Rentir. You were once a part of this ship’s security forces. You should know better.”

He did know better. No one had ever gotten far on this ship while he’d worked it. Certainly, no one had ever made it off. Why would they be any different?

“Drop your weapon, Rentir. I’ve told them to take you alive. You want to live, don’t you? You always did. It’s your best attribute. It’s precisely that drive that makes you so… biddable.”

Not always, he thought, tightening his grip around his weapon.

That day he had taken the shot meant for Thalen, the day he’d finally understood the gravity of his betrayal, he had not wanted to live. There had been something greater to him than life.

Honor.

His breath caught at the realization. It had been honor that had moved his body that day at its own expense, an honor that Lord Commander Tellefan had not been able to beat out of him even with the better part of a decade.

“As long as that blaster is not in your hand when my men arrive, you will live. Do you hear me, Rentir? Do as your nature bids you. Drop it.”

Thalen looked to him, his expression inscrutable in a way Rentir knew was his best attempt at concealing his doubt.

Rentir raised his blaster to the speaker set into the ceiling and squeezed the trigger. The Lord Commander’s voice was a distorted screech, and then there was only silence.

Silence?

Had he shot out the siren for this whole level? But even the lights had stopped—

The door at his back hissed open, and a hand reached out to seize him by the collar and drag him inside at the same instant the corridor filled with auretian soldiers.