Samantha
I woke up in a panic, my heart pounding in my throat, adrenaline soaring through my system.
Shooting upright, I raised my hands defensively in front of me, as if I were going to take that arrogant king on with my fists.
There was nobody there—I was alone.
Deflating on the spot, confusion filled me as I took in my new surroundings.
Where the heck was I?
Where had that Ondrithar male taken me?
The room I was in was blue—of course it was—and the walls curved softly, as if they undulated like waves.
Light fixtures in the ceiling were sleek and glowed with a warm, yellow hue, like the sun.
That was technology—it had to be.
The bed I sat on was large—disconcertingly large, in fact—and covered in satin-soft black sheets.
This was a bedroom, and a well-appointed one at that.
Trunks lined one wall with thick iron locks and hinges, as if they were booty from a pirate’s treasure.
But a wardrobe and dresser, much like the fancy ones I’d see in entertainment vids, sat against another wall.
Then there was the large, round pool at the center of the room, right across from the bed.
Blue light emanated from it, and I had a feeling it was the only exit: there was no door.
On the upside, I wasn’t dead, and I was in a room with air.
So that bastard of a king did know about my human limitations when it came to water.
That did not make me feel better.
Thinking about him made me feel torn in two—confused and tangled, like the knots of kelp that had washed onto the island’s shore.
Attraction for him was a primal, driving thing inside me, thrumming through my pulse and between my thighs just from conjuring up his image in my mind.
Anger followed hot on its heels, furious at the way he’d treated me so far—how little interest he’d shown me as a person.
And now he’d locked me in a room with no possible way to escape; I was a prisoner.
I wanted to fume and say that if the big bosses up at the USS Legacy heard of this, they’d bust his ass, but the truth was, they wouldn’t dare.
We needed a treaty and land too badly for them to anger any of the factions.
I was on my own.
Another reason to be mad: Someone had undressed me.
Granted, I was still wearing my very demure underwear consisting of boyshorts and a tanktop with a built-in bra, but it meant someone had touched me while I’d been out.
That felt icky, but my stomach twisted with something that came frustratingly close to desire again.
Had it been him?
Had he taken off my shirt and pants?
Getting out of bed, I firmly resolved to be ready for him when he returned.
Depending on how long I’d been out, that could be any minute now.
I hoped so, because while I was good at sitting still in a lab, I wasn’t so good at it when I had nothing to occupy my always-active mind.
Exploring what little there was was my only option.
He had locked me in here, so I was going to look in every single drawer and behind every door.
What I found only upset me more.
The big wardrobe housed a harness stand with an intricate set of armor and a huge, ornate trident.
The chests were all locked, and lockpicking was not one of my skills.
In a discreet alcove, I discovered a bathroom-type area, and there, a dress of shimmering, pearlescent fabric hung.
Considering this room and its contents made me think it belonged to a man; the dress could be meant for me, or it belonged to the jerk king’s girlfriend.
I only had to glance at my scantily clad self in the floor-to-ceiling mirror to make a decision.
The fabric was possibly the softest I’d ever touched in my life, and it flowed down my body like water.
Then it pooled around my ankles, too long to fit me properly.
While the top was far too snug to look decent around my busty chest, the bottom of the dress made me look like a child.
“This thing is completely disproportionate,” I muttered in frustration.
At least the bottom of the dress was made of flirty panels, and I resorted to tying knots in the bottom parts to shorten their length.
It struck me that this was a dress made for a woman with a tail—flirty and ethereal, it would wisp around her tail.
Ah, shucks.
It probably belonged to his girlfriend.
A splashing coming from the bedroom drew my attention with a swooping in my stomach.
Damn it, I was not cut out for this adventuring stuff.
I wanted my plant specimens and a lab, not this…
whatever this was right now.
Casting my eyes about, I searched for a weapon, but all I saw was another trident hanging from the wall—too big for me to carry easily.
In the end, I picked up a sharp-edged seashell thing from the counter and clutched it tightly in my hand as I peered around the corner.
The alcove was giving me a bit of cover, and the person who had entered via the pool hadn’t seen me yet.
That gave me ample opportunity to study them, which was just the way I liked it.
It was a woman—tanned, statuesque, beautiful.
Her hair was long and black with striking green highlights.
She wore a dress just like the one I had just pilfered, but on her, the fabric draped in lovely ways and pooled elegantly around her long legs.
She was the kind of woman who made me feel like my frumpy, nerdy self and wish that I wasn’t me.
I was willing to bet that when she shifted into her waterform, she’d be even more stunning.
Had to be the girlfriend.
Or, wait—wife?
Had I just stolen the dress of the Ondrithar Queen?
My horrified gasp made her lift her green gaze from the rumpled black sheets to the alcove I was hiding in.
No.
Get a grip.
I was going to have to do better than this if I wanted to make it out alive.
Show no fear; pretend you thought you had the upper hand; never let them see how much they intimidated you.
I wished I didn’t have such a good memory, and I really wished I hadn’t memorized the diplomatic handbook I’d been given.
Maybe she was a perfectly lovely woman; maybe she was simply a servant.
But she still scared the shit out of me, and I couldn’t even explain why.
She wasn’t that much taller than I was, and she was unarmed.
Raising my chin, I balled my fists around the sharp seashell behind my back, then stepped out of the alcove to confront her.
When she smiled and revealed sharp, predatory fangs, I was pretty sure I’d screwed up.