Page 11 of Sold to the Nalgar (Stolen From Earth #3)

H e stepped through the door like gravity followed him.

The moment he entered, the air changed. It thickened . Every part of her body went still, every breath locked in her chest.

He was enormous.

Encased in dark, burnished armor that gleamed like polished obsidian streaked with veins of living metal.

The plating was angular, sharp-edged, and layered like scales, but fluid in the way it moved—as if it had grown over him, not been forged.

Blades curled from his shoulders and elbows, not ornamental, but functional, threatening.

Predatory. The helm alone was a thing of nightmares—smooth, expressionless, with a narrow, angular slit that might’ve concealed eyes… or nothing at all.

He wasn’t human.

Nothing about him could ever be mistaken for human.

And yet, he stood there… silent.

Watching her.

She was still restrained—arms pinned, ankles spread slightly, back flat against the wall—vulnerable in a way that felt bone- deep. The robe barely covered her. The collar was cold against her throat. Her skin still burned from the earlier punishment.

But now, she barely noticed the sting.

Because he was looking at her.

Not moving. Not speaking.

Just… watching .

The sheer force of his presence made her want to sink into the wall and disappear.

The alarms had stopped. The ship had gone still. The chaos outside her chamber had been replaced with something worse.

Stillness.

And him .

His gaze raked over her like a searchlight. Down her face. Her throat. Her body. As if he owned her . As if she was his to catalogue. To claim.

She swallowed hard, voice hoarse. “Who are you?”

There was no response.

Not even a tilt of his head.

Can he even understand me?

Her heart thundered.

He raised a hand, black-armored fingers lifting. The metal caught the light, sharp and sleek. He touched a panel on his chest. And then he spoke.

A single word.

“Sulika.”

The sound of it sent a shiver down her spine.

Deep. Resonant. Spoken with something that was almost reverence. Or hunger.

She didn’t know what it meant.

But she felt it. In her gut. In her bones.

The word had weight.

He stepped closer.

She flinched, instinctively trying to pull back, but there was nowhere to go.

His massive frame moved with the ease of something far too powerful to be real, grace and lethality in equal measure. Her breath caught as he reached out.

She thought he might hurt her.

His gloved hand, massive and cold, brushed her cheek.

Gently.

She froze.

The touch was feather-light, almost hesitant. Completely at odds with his armor, his size, his terrifying aura.

Why?

He said it again, softly this time.

“Sulika.”

She stared at him, throat dry.

She wanted to scream, to spit, to demand answers—but the words trembled in her chest.

Finally, she whispered, “Why have you taken me?”

He didn’t answer.

There was just the sound of his breath, slow and steady behind that gleaming mask. He didn’t speak her language. Not here. There was no translator.

She was as alone as ever.

And then… he moved again.

He was quick. Too quick.

She saw the blur of motion before she even registered the blade: small, dagger-like, made of glowing red energy . Pulsing and alive, it buzzed faintly in the silence.

Oh my god…

He raised it. She gasped.

But the blade didn’t touch her.

It sliced cleanly through the restraints.

One. Then the next. Then the next.

In less than a second, she was free.

The cuffs fell away. Her knees buckled.

Before she could drop to the floor—before she could even react —he caught her.

Lifted her.

Arms like metal bars slid beneath her legs and shoulders. She was cradled against his chest like she weighed nothing. One armored hand pressed against the small of her back. The other under her knees.

She fought. Reflex. Panic. A low, raw sound escaped her throat as she thrashed.

“Shh.”

Just that.

His voice was low. Quiet.

And the word… it hit her. Somehow, it was universal.

Her body stilled.

He held her with effortless strength. She could feel the armor against her skin: hard, ridged, cold in places, warm in others. She was surrounded by him, dwarfed, completely enveloped.

She lay frozen in his arms.

He turned and carried her out.

Faster than a human. Smoother than any machine. Silent as a shadow.

Down a corridor lit with blood-red light. Into the unknown.

She didn’t ask where.

Because she knew, deep down…

She wasn’t the one who got to ask questions anymore.