Page 2

E mily

I stand at the edge of the village, my heart pounding as I scan the faces of the returning search party. One by one, they pass by. Isabella, Vrenner, Enosir, Warrix, Yarik, Sorrin, and then finally, Mara.

A smile tugs at Mara’s lips as she reaches for Sorrin’s much larger hand, threading her fingers through his with an ease that startles me. He responds without hesitation, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Her shoulders are relaxed and the tension she’s carried since we crashed onto Laedirissae seems to have melted away. When she looks up at him like he’s suddenly the most important thing in the world, I feel a strange twist in my gut.

Huh. Imagine that.

Beside me, a sharp scoff breaks the moment.

“That’s just great,” Crystal mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. “Another one.”

I glance at her and find her watching Mara and Sorrin with a flat expression, her blue eyes clouded with some emotion I can’t quite figure out. Envy? Whatever it is, it’s gone with a blink of her eyes.

Her platinum blonde bob, once so sleek and polished, has lost its precision.

Stray strands stick out no matter how often she smooths them down.

Dark roots creep through, a glaring reminder of just how much time has passed since the gray aliens, the Zyfeliks, ripped us from our lives before dumping us here on this planet.

Maddie, one of the other women we crash-landed with and Mara’s sister, comes to a stop beside her. There’s a wistful smile stretched across her face. “I think it’s romantic, like soulmates. I hope I get an amoris mate one day.”

Beside me, Crystal snorts. “You would.”

Maddie turns to stare at her, the smile still on her face. “What? I’ve seen you eyeing the warriors like they’re candy and you want a snack.”

Crystal doesn’t bother to deny it. “Just enjoying the view.” Then, she huffs out a breath. “Who’s next? You?” She flicks a glance at me before exhaling sharply and stalking off.

I stare after her, my stomach tightening. Me? No. Never.

Maddie’s gaze lingers on me. “Don’t let her get to you,” she says softly. “I think she’s just scared.”

I give a half-shrug, unsure what to say to that.

But Maddie’s already turned back to the crowd. Her eyes light up, and she waves enthusiastically. “Mara! You’re back!” she calls out before turning to me with a grin. “I gotta go hear everything.”

And just like that, she darts off, leaving me behind.

Around me, the Laediriians in the tribe call out to each other and exchange amused smiles. They don’t just believe in the spirit mate bond here, they revere it. Practically worship it.

And no wonder.

After a devastating plague on their home world wiped out all the Laediriian females, the amoris bond vanished along with them.

For generations, they believed it was lost forever.

Their species only survived because of the artificial wombs they used to reproduce.

Then, we crashed on this planet after the Zyfeliks dumped us like trash on the highway, and suddenly, the bond returned.

First with Haley and Draggar, the First Warrior of the Anuriix tribe and the chief’s son. And, now, I guess, with Mara and Sorrin.

Honestly, I’m shocked. If anyone could’ve resisted the pull of the amoris bond, I would’ve bet on Mara. She’s always been guarded and cautious, like she’s expecting the worst and bracing for the hit.

But now? She looks different. There’s a softness to her that wasn’t there before, like she’s finally put down some invisible burden she’s been carrying forever. She looks happy.

My gaze drifts past the couple, and it’s then that I notice they’re not alone. More figures trail behind them—eight in total. Four of them ride astride eponirs, the strange unicorn-lizard creatures the Laediriians use as mounts.

Apparently, the search party was successful in their hunt for the other humans who crashed on the planet at the same time we did.

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat sharp with hope and dread. Please let her be one of them.

As they draw closer, I scan their faces, my breath catching in my throat. I search desperately, clinging to the fragile hope that after all this time, after everything, I’ll finally see her .

But she’s not there.

A cold emptiness settles in my stomach. My vision blurs as I turn away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but the sting of unshed tears burns behind my eyes.

My cousin, Lily, is still missing.

But she was with me when I was abducted, and I clearly remember her being abducted, too. I remember the fear in her eyes, the way her fingers clung to mine before everything went dark. And yet, when I woke up in that cold, metal cell on the Zyfeliks’ ship, she was gone.

At first, I thought she might’ve been placed somewhere else on the ship.

But the days stretched on, and there was never any sign of any other humans other than the ones held in the cargo bay with me.

Even though I quickly became friends with the other women who were with me, a gnawing emptiness lingered inside me.

It wasn’t just fear or anger. It was loneliness.

A profound, aching loneliness that nothing could touch.

Now, as I stand on the edge of the celebrations, trying to blend into the background, the weight of that loneliness feels unbearable. My fingers clutch the fabric of the dress the Anuriix tribe gave me as I try to ground myself in the present even as memories threaten to overwhelm me.

The sound of excited chatter and laughter swirls around me, but I barely hear it. My ears catch something else instead—a low, quiet conversation between two warriors passing by.

“An anuroi took one of the females,” the warrior says. His voice is a quiet rumble, meant to go unnoticed. “Sorrin said they searched for her but couldn’t find any signs.”

The other warrior makes a sound deep in his throat.

“Not surprising. They usually don’t leave much behind.

The humans are so small. There wouldn’t be anything left.

” His voice brightens as they continue walking past. “Did you hear about Melloc and Razir? The amoris bond appeared between them last night.”

Fuck. The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp. My body stiffens and goosebumps prickle my skin as the coldest chill I’ve ever felt runs through me.

No. No, it can’t be. Tears sting my eyes, hot and sharp, but I blink them back furiously.

Not here. Not now. My breath comes in shallow bursts as I fight to keep myself from breaking down in the middle of the crowd.

They’re wrong. They have to be.

I would know if my cousin was dead. I would know if she had been taken by some alien pterodactyl and torn apart, her life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

I would feel it, wouldn’t I? There would be an unbearable void hollowing me out from deep inside.

A pain so deep it would leave no room for doubt that she was gone.

But there’s no void. No crushing, undeniable grief. Only this aching, stubborn hope I cling to and the fear that stalks me like a shadow.

She’s not dead. She can’t be.

I wrap my arms around myself as though I can hold myself together through sheer force of will and keep the fear from swallowing me whole. My breath shudders, but I swallow the rising panic and force the tears to stay buried.

She’s out there. She has to be. I refuse to accept any other outcome. Maybe she’s waiting for me to find her, and I will. Because that’s exactly what Lily would do for me, not just because we’re cousins and best friends, but because we’re the only two people left in our family.

My mom had me young, and in a lot of ways, we grew up together. She was just nineteen when I was born, barely more than a kid herself, but she loved being a mother.

My father, on the other hand, was a monster, plain and simple.

He broke more than just dishes and furniture, he broke her.

Her spirit and her laughter and the light in her eyes.

And when he wasn’t tearing her down, he turned his rage on me.

For years, we walked on eggshells, holding our breaths, doing whatever we could to avoid setting him off.

It wasn’t until I was eleven that things changed.

That night is still written on my memory with the thick scent of rain and the loud rumble of thunder.

A severe thunderstorm had rolled in early that evening, turning the dark February night deadly.

Still, my father insisted on having a night out on the town, which meant a trip to a dive bar with my mom serving as his designated driver.

They left me at home, alone, doing my homework.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember the knock at the door that shattered the silence like a gunshot.

I remember the cop on the other side of the door and the way his voice wavered when he saw me. And I remember the cold, creeping realization that nothing would ever be the same.

The car my mom was driving had hit a tree head-on. Neither of them made it out alive. It was ruled a tragic accident that took both their lives.

And I should have been sad. I was sad that my mom was gone. But I couldn’t shake the small thread of relief that filled me with guilt.

For the first time in my life, I could breathe without fear. I could speak without wondering if every word out of my mouth was wrong. I could relax and not dread the sound of his truck pulling up outside or the thud of his footsteps.

My mother—my sweet, gentle Mama—was finally free. No more bruises. No more whispered apologies. No more pretending things weren’t as bad as they really were.

And me? I was free too.

I moved from the big city of Charlotte to Alabama to live with my grandparents. They were strangers, really, because my father had made sure we lived far enough away from them, far enough they wouldn’t visit. Far away from any questions they might ask.

Life with them was s afe. Quiet. Predictable.

But it was also lonely.