Page 127 of Wrapped in Their Arms

“That’s for what you made us do to each other, you sick fucker!”Burnbellowed, yanking the key back out in a spray of gore.

He raised it again,Rageflooding his features, the red burning brighter in his eyes.

“No!”Brightshouted, lunging toward him.“Burn—we don’t know how long the medication will last!Wehave to get out of here, now!”

“Burn—please!”Noellebegged from across the room, her heart in her throat.“Ijust want to go home!”

Burn froze.

For one stretched-out second, it was unclear which voice reached him—Bright’slogic orNoelle’sfear.Hismassive chest heaved and his knuckles whitened around the blood-slick key.

Then theRageflickering in his gaze dimmed by a fraction and he lowered the key.

Bright grabbed his arm and dragged him back from the still-thrashingTrollox.

“Come on!”he hissed.“Wehave togo.”

Noelle scrambled off the mattress, dress still half-on, half-off.Brightsnatched up their scattered clothes, stuffing everything into his arms as he sprinted toward the stairs.

Behind them, theTrollox’sright head screamed and shrieked, the wounded socket leaking thick yellowish fluid.Theleft head remained oblivious, snoring wetly.Themiddle head blinked slow, drugged blinks, looking confused and drunkenly outraged but unable to move.

The entire giant body convulsed until the couch cracked under it.

The camera drone zipped frantic circles overhead, recording every frantic heartbeat.

“Move!”Burnbarked, pushingNoelleahead of him as they raced for the stairway.

Noelle’s legs pumped, her breath burning her lungs, her heart thundering like a drumbeat of terror.

We did it.OhGod—we actually did it.Butwe’re not safe yet—we’re not safe yet—RUN?—

The three of them burst out of the basement like hunted animals, slamming into the hallway above, the cold air of the upper floor hittingNoelle’sface like a slap.

They didn’t slow…they didn’t look back.

They ran like their lives depended on it—because they did.

69

BRIGHT

Bright’s boots pounded the corridor floor, the harsh overhead lights strobing over his vision like warning sirens.

Come on, come on…just a little farther.Pleasedon’t let us run into that damnedCookie…

The winding passage toward the shuttle bay felt like it stretched for miles.Everyturn felt like a trap.Hisnerves were razor-wire tight, ready to snap.Besidehim,Noellewas still half-dressed, pale and swaying slightly as she clutched the torn dress around her curvy frame.Burn’sjaw was clenched in that terrifying way that meant he was barely holding back hisRage.

One wrong move, and theTrolloxchef could blow the whole plan,Brightthought.Hewatches everything…knows everything.Please—just this once—let the bastard have the night off.

They rounded the final curve.Thesealed arch to the shuttle bay loomed ahead—carved in sleek purple and gold, gilded with curling script.Thesymbol of theTrolloxCrueltyCartelshone faintly in the sterile light above the doors.

Bright breathed a sigh of relief—there were no guards, no alien chef…no sign of anyone at all.

Thank theGoddess!

They slipped through without challenge.Brightfelt sweat bead on the back of his neck as the doors closed behind them with a quiet hiss.

The shuttle sat waiting for them in the center of the bay—sleek and rounded, a glossy egg-shaped vessel painted in lustrous purple with gold trim curling around the nosecone like ornamental vines.Thesight of it sent a wave of relief crashing over him.