Page 7

Movement caught her gaze, and she glided toward the porthole. Something crossed it, the unexpectedness jerking her back. She evened out her breathing and closed the distance.

And hit the floor with a squeal. A whimper escaped when pain radiated out from her hip and knee. The door slid open. Thunk, thunk preceded the appearance of a set of military boots on massive feet. She squeezed her eyes shut. E.A.F. The bastards.

“You were adrift. It is good we found you,” the man rasped in Galactic. “We saved you.”

“Saved me?” She staggered to her feet, pausing to rub where bruises had to be forming. “Scared me is what you did. What the hell do you—?” Her voice lodged in place and formed a lump.

Before her stood a massive silver-skinned shark with his beady, black eyes, two slits for a nose, a super wide grin with sabertooth fangs pressing on his bottom lip, and a neck that reached his broad shoulders.

He wore no shirt, but black cargo pants clung to his narrow hips.

A black pistol-like weapon was holstered to his thigh.

A Yithian.

She gaped. Sure, she knew about them, Maloidians, and algris, but never would she have thought she’d get to meet one.

“My…thanks,” she managed, years of manners bred into her.

“Lizu,” he said, touching his chest with his three-fingered hand.

“Wren,” she said. “I’m grateful for the rescue, but I do need to return to the station.”

“That is no longer your home. You have another…destiny.” His solid-black eyes twinkled, but her gaze locked onto a droplet of saliva sliding down a fang. Venom .

“I beg your pardon?” she said, dragging her focus to his eyes.

“We are testing our stasis chambers. Many of your females have died.” He ventured deeper into the cell, forcing her to stumble back or be touched.

The way fear prickled every inch of her skin told her she was in big trouble. Panic, worse than losing the bottle, had immobilized her muscles. “Did you say died?”

“Yes. The chemical that places your bodies in stasis needed to be perfected.”

She had to be dreaming, and if she knew that, then she was lucid. Maybe she could…

“Lizu, I do need to head home.” She flashed him a smile.

He twitched, then scowled. “I do not wish to mate with you, female.”

“I don’t want you either,” she snapped, stunned that her dream mind thought that. Well, after all her alien smut, she should have expected her fantasies to change. Maybe she needed to get laid? How long had it been anyway?

“Then do not smile at me.” He gestured to her mouth.

“Sorry. I was being polite. Regardless, get me back.”

“No.” He walked backward, his gaze fixed on her.

She followed but kept a little distance between them. “I insist.”

He chuckled, clicking and hissing.

“I mean it, Lizu. Set me free…or else.” She patted her hips, searching for her multitool still attached to the waistband of her space suit.

“I am glad you will live, Wren.” The door slid shut on his glee.

“Fuck,” she screamed and shoved against the steel.

There were no handles, which meant there had to be a panel to control access. She patted the sides, hoping to find something she could pry open and manipulate. Electronics had to be universal, right? Besides, she had to try.

She swallowed a whoop when the lid of a box slid aside. Colored buttons shone, and underneath them were letters in a language she didn’t know.

“Shit,” she whispered.

A Yithian had to mean a ship. Hell, this cell could be jettisoned for all she knew.

Which meant self-contained with a set supply of oxygen?

She wasn’t sure. Any of these buttons could do that.

Or they could release a toxin and kill her.

He’d said as much. A moment before her feet left the floor, an inactive button glowed blue.

That had to be gravity?

She hesitated, drew in a long breath, and pressed the button.

Her feet thumped down.

She grinned. Well, well.

They switched it on, and up she floated. Laughing, she hit the off. On, up. Off, down. Up. Down. On. Off.

The door opened to a scowling Lizu. He nudged her aside, snapped the panel shut, then welded it in place with a pen-like tool she couldn’t help but admire.

“Before you go, what are the bad colors?”

His eyes narrowed. “Red, white, and green.”

Again, he left her, sealing her fate as much as the locked door did.

Up she floated. She let herself drift toward the ceiling.

There had to be a maintenance trapdoor of sorts or a ventilation duct.

Thin grooves marked square panels. The craftsmanship was next level because no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get a good enough grip to peel a panel up. A hiss of air accompanied a sweet tang.

She grimaced and tucked her face into her tank top to possibly minimize inhaling the stasis chemical Lizu had mentioned.

Already, the edges of her vision were tinged with black.

She moved along the ceiling, panic making her hands tremble.

Where she went, she left smears of blood, barely registering the sting from minor cuts.

Only her freedom mattered, as it had always done.

Her nose burned.

A brain fuzziness lured her, the kind that promised blissful, dreamless sleep.

An unusual warmth saturated her limbs, and any thought of escaping slipped away.

With a slow exhale and a dreamy smile, she succumbed.