Page 7 of Survivor (A Space Pearl’s Treat #2)

I was, actually. I hadn’t eaten since last night when I drank the ale merchant under the table, scoring a rather hefty discount for the restaurant. Humans had a natural tolerance for Verdesian ale.

“Sure.”

Vraxxan stood and I followed him down a short, dimly lit corridor that opened into a compact galley section.

It reminded me of the cramped kitchen area in my grandpa's old RV—narrow cabinets lined the wall, their surfaces gleaming with an unfamiliar metallic sheen.

A couple of odd-looking alien appliances hummed quietly, their purpose unclear but their sleek, curved designs distinctly non-human.

A small oval table sat near the outer wall, flanked by a worn upholstered bench that looked surprisingly comfortable despite its alien origins.

“Let us see what they have on board,” he suggested, beginning to open the cabinets and drawers.

After a few minutes, it became apparent that, other than several cases of Verdesian ale, the cupboards were bare.

“They do have a food generator,” Vraxxan announced, pointing to a small machine in one of the cabinets that reminded me of an older model ATM.

Ugh.

The cat aliens who grabbed me fed me from a food generator. The fare was mostly a nasty porridge, as appetizing as packing peanuts floating in swamp water.

“Do you have a preference?” Vraxxan fiddled with the controls, completely unaware of my disdain.

“Yes. Can we find the closest Space Pearl’s location?”

He shot me an amused glance over his shoulder. “You dislike the fare from the food generator?”

“Very much,” I said, thinking my grimace and shudder explanation enough.

Vraxxan cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Trust me?”

“I think I’d rather trust you with my life than my food,” I quipped. My heart felt funny. The beating was all erratic, and I felt flushed.

Vraxxan laughed, a deep, rich, rolling sound—probably the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.

He attacked the food generator like a man possessed, lights and beeps accompanying the fluid strokes of his fingers.

The smell emanating from the small machine wasn’t too bad.

Sort of like meatloaf day at the hospital.

A few minutes later, he pulled out two steaming bowls, accompanied by a couple of bottles of Verdesian ale he found in the cooling unit.

The stew wasn’t completely without flavor. Not of Space Pearl’s caliber, but a hell of a lot better than packing peanuts and swamp water.

The rich aroma filled the small cabin as I stirred my spoon through the hearty broth, grateful for the warmth spreading through my empty stomach. “So, you never said where you were taking me,” I ventured, my voice softer than intended, as I caught Vraxxan’s gaze across the table.

“It is a small planet with few sentient inhabitants.” Vraxxan’s deep voice resonated in the space between us as he lifted his ale to his lips. I found myself watching the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed. “We should be safe there until the Alliance intervenes.”

“Can I contact Pearl and Jala and let them know what happened at the restaurant?” I asked, my fingers fidgeting with my spoon.

Concern for Effutial tightened my chest. If he was alright—and I desperately hoped he was—he’d be raising the alarm.

The thought of my friends searching for me made my heart ache. “I don’t want anyone to worry.”

“I have already sent an encoded message to the Alliance explaining what happened at the restaurant,” Vraxxan replied, his eyes softening as they met mine.

“Thank you,” I whispered, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness. The consideration behind his action made something strange flutter in my chest. “So how long will it take us to get to this planet of yours?”

“We should arrive at our destination in approximately twelve Earth hours,” Vraxxan said, his precise knowledge catching me off guard.

“How do you know about Earth timekeeping?” I asked, leaning forward with curiosity. Most aliens I’d encountered measured time in rotations, cycles, and spans. Earth hours were a rarity in cosmic conversation.

“I like to read and study,” Vraxxan said with a casual shrug that somehow made him more handsome.

He rose from his seat, his tall form moving gracefully as he retrieved another ale from the cooler.

The subtle play of muscles beneath his scales caught my attention despite my best efforts to remain aloof.

Seriously, it was like being trapped in a spaceship with Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa and Miles Teller all rolled into one. A girl was going to look!

“No shit, me too!” The excitement in my voice was unmistakable as I nodded at his silent offer of another drink.

“I didn’t have much in the way of formal education, but I always loved to read.

” I carefully avoided mentioning the hospital stays that had given me so much reading time. “Did you study Earth—humans a lot?”

“I did after one killed my brother,” Vraxxan said with a harsh laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. He returned to the table, settling noticeably closer than before. His proximity sent a cascade of warmth across my skin, and his scent—salt and sand and sea—filled my senses.

Despite the delicious tingle his nearness conveyed, I couldn’t ignore his words. One of my kind had killed his brother. But his next statement calmed my racing heart.

“My brother Vreses was an assassin. Some considered him the best in the universe. When he died at the hand of a human female—I was curious about the creature who finally stopped him.” His voice carried no malice, only a lingering wonder.

“And what did you discover?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I found myself caring more about his opinion than I should.

Vraxxan leaned back in his seat, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin.

His teal eyes seeming to shimmer in the cabin’s soft light as they studied me with undisguised interest. “Humans... human females especially strike me as extraordinary. You are small and delicate—fragile compared to the rest of the universe, yet your determination and spirit make you one of the most amazing creatures to exist.”

“You think I’m amazing, huh?” I attempted to joke, but my voice emerged breathless, betraying the effect his words—and his presence—had on me.

The air between us grew electric as his gaze captured mine, holding me in place more effectively than any restraint. “I think you are extraordinary,” he murmured, each syllable caressing my senses like velvet.

Our gazes remained locked, the space between us pulsing with unspoken possibilities.

The universe beyond our small ship seemed to fade away, leaving only this moment, this connection.

My experience with handsome men was practically non-existent.

Other than Dr. Rod of course, and since he was always poking me with needles, any attraction I felt faded with each stick.

There wasn't an inch of Vraxxan that wasn't utterly, devastatingly male, and despite being an alien—he was gorgeous. The way he looked at me, with such raw intensity and longing, as if I was the most precious thing in the universe, sent delicious shivers cascading down my spine.

“So, what else do you like to read?” I finally managed, my voice emerging as little more than a squeak.

The intensity of his gaze remained, though his posture relaxed slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “Histories of different species mostly, and you?”

“C.S. Lewis was always my favorite,” I sighed happily, memories of beloved characters comforting me like old friends returning home.

“What is a C.S. Lewis?” His brow furrowed in confusion, creating an endearing crease between his eyes.

I laughed, the tension breaking like sunlight through clouds. “Dude, let me tell you about the Chronicles of Narnia.”