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Intrigue hit her, an emotion not her own. She pinched her brow at the ping of a headache forming.

“Issneen is Etteria’s royal city. Our best medics await your arrival,” he said.

Anxiety trickled into her when he swept his gaze over her face.

“What are you worried about?” she asked, attempting to scoot off the bed.

His arm across her waist kept her in place and flooded her with a splice-like zing.

“Until Qaff assures me you are well—”

“She is well…for now, Cylo.” Qaff turned away, tapping on a tablet.

Silo? That was her man’s name?

“But…she is purple,” he said, swiping his hand over her forearm, summoning goose bumps.

“Huh?” She scrunched up her nose then glanced down.

“What the hell?” With a muffled squeal, she scrambled back and toppled off the other side of the bed.

Into his arms. They encompassed her like steel bands.

She fought the urge to burrow into him. “Sorry,” she said, her shoulder pressed against his chest. He smelled so damn good, too, like something spicy and sweet.

Focus, Wren . You’re lilac.

She stared at her arms, familiar yet not.

“How? No, scratch that. Can you fix it?” She raised her gaze to meet his.

“And can you put me down, please?” That he liked holding her was too distracting when she had other things to deal with like how long would she be lilac?

And how could she sense his emotions when Etterians were known not to have many? Where had she read that?

He lowered her feet to the floor, his hands lingering. When she swayed, dizziness spinning the room, he looped an arm around her waist again. She prodded her pastel purple skin. It was still her, just a different color.

“A side effect of whatever the Maloidians did to me, Qaff?” she asked the doctor just to confirm her suspicions.

“We believe so, milady,” he said without glancing at her while he flicked through symbols on a wall-mounted screen. “Only in Issneen will we know the truth and perhaps how to undo it.”

“I see,” she said, tossing a tentative smile at Cylo.

“Do you wish to cleanse?” he asked, his gaze intense.

She gaped for a moment. How had he known she’d kill for that? When her stomach wrenched, she cleared her throat. “Please, and food?”

“Can you walk?” he asked, drawing back his hand in a caress across her abdomen.

“Of course I ca—” One step and she slithered to the floor but found herself once again in his arms.

“Use my quarters,” Qaff said, his focus elsewhere.

Cylo veered to the back of the medical bay and into a room. A bed was to the left and an open-plan bathroom to the right. Dull-gray metal walls added no cheer to the depressing space.

She fixed her gaze on what looked like a shower cubicle, made noticeable by being white-walled. Excitement exploded through her but merged with his butterflies. She stared at him, trying to read an expression on his stoic face.

He halted inside the shower.

“What are you—” A spray blasted her, drenching them both.

She spluttered, spitting out water, then wiped away her wet hair to glower at him.

“Now my clothes are wet.” Visions of him yanking her out of the pool came to mind.

Then, he’d been furious with her. She’d been soaked and smelling of the sea.

It had been incredible, though, to at least wash the stench off her.

And sure, salty ickiness had coated her skin until he’d let the med-E.D. enclose her.

“Forgive me, you are too weak to stand. I will order you whatever you wish to wear, ensa.”

Shit . The way he said ‘ensa ’ was like a drug on her senses. His emotions saturating her were of affection and admiration, mixing with her desire and anticipation.

“Um, Cylo.” She peeked at him.

He dipped his chin to meet her gaze. “Yes, milady.”

She hesitated, unsure how to explain what was wrong. “Something weird’s happening to me.”

He stiffened, his stance widening, concern and determination exploding from him. “What is it?”

“I can sense—” She bit her lip, not wanting to sound like an idiot.

He lowered her, then faced the room, trapping her in the corner by pinning her in place with his body. “Do you feel in danger?”

She couldn’t see over his broad back or around the width of him.

But…it wasn’t something physical she feared.

Deep inside, it was as if voices roiled, climbing into her mind, and whispering half-truths—some she ached to believe.

How could she put that into words? Where he wouldn’t think she’d gone insane?

“No, not at all. It’s just that… Maybe I should tell Qaff? ”

“You do not trust me?” He spun, the front of his body touching hers, but his ferocious scowl couldn’t compare to his fury hitting her like a sledgehammer to the chest. She bowed under the weight, fighting to find who she was amid his reactions.

Wincing, she tried to drown him out, to think.

But with his sadness, disappointment, anger clouding her mind, she was fast becoming overwhelmed.

She gripped his upper arms, tempted to shake him.

“Cylo, please… I can’t…” She drew in a shaky breath and peered into his eyes. “I can feel what you feel.”

He frowned. “Like an empath? Can humans do that?”

Surprise, puzzlement, and intrigue whiplashed her.

Needing to be grounded to this moment and place, she fixed her gaze on where she clasped him.

The strength beneath her fingers soothed and…

bolstered her. “Some humans can, but I wasn’t one of them.

” Her voice broke, and tears pressed the backs of her eyes.

Fuck, I hate these aliens. What gives them the right—

“Ah,” he said, gathering her against his rock-hard chest, a tentative smile teasing the appearance of his dimple. “Another side effect?”

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous . “I think so. I’d have to test it to be sure.”

His eyes narrowed, and in a gentle voice, he asked, “What can you sense in me?”

Oh, she could write him a book. When he waited, expectant, she pressed her temple to his armored chest to focus, but the action only brought his smell closer. “Humor, relief…” Meeting his gaze, she whispered, “desire.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “I cannot risk my void to mate with a woman not my Dar Eth,” he said. “But you tempt me, ensa.”

An almost orgasmic wave of heat not her own hit her, hardening her nipples. She shivered despite the hot water pouring over her.

He whipped her out of the shower and stood still for a lengthy blast of air. Stuck in his arms, she didn’t move, content to be held. After her ordeal, she’d probably have let Dallas hug her for hours. Yet, Cylo embraced her like he cherished who she was.

Knowing he wanted her and wouldn’t do anything about it sank like a splice-detox in the pit of her stomach.

A little sex would have done wonders for her mood, but it might complicate things between them when now wasn’t the best time.

He wasn’t for her, and no matter how attractive he was, she’d have to let him go.

Then again, since when had she listened to reason?