by Anna Carven
“I think I understand, and I’m grateful,” Seph said at last, tiny wisps of vapor escaping her nose and mouth with each breath.
No, my dear human, I don’t think you really understand. Not yet.
Oh, but the Goddess could be cruel indeed. Torin had finally met the woman of his wildest dreams, and all he wanted to do was get to know her better.
Instead, he’d been thrust into a situation where he might have to show her a side of him not many humans knew about.
He was First Division, and from time to time, he was forced to do some pretty terrible things.
Chapter Six
Seph glanced at her link-band. “Time,” she said softly, activating the holo-display.
Bright blue-green numbers appeared in the space above her wrist, materializing out of thin air. The power indicator told her she had a month’s worth of charge left and absolutely no communication signal.
She was entirely cut off from her people.
03:46. That was the time in Cayenne, Republic of the Guianas, Earth, Ninth Sector, the Universe. She kept her main time set to Earth-time, not space-time, because she needed something to remind her of the verdant vert-garden towers of her adopted city.
Three hours had passed since they’d been ejected into space, and it was absolutely freezing.
“I h-hate the f-fucckking c-cold,” she grumbled, grateful for her thermoregulating travel suit and cloak.
The cloak was a gift from her sister, a peace-offering of sorts. “Why the hell would you want to go out there? What are you trying to prove? You need to get over that fucking impostor syndrome of yours or the same thing’s going to keep happening over and over again.” Julia Winters had initially been scornful of Seph’s space-travel plans. They’d fought bitterly—admittedly, Seph had said some nasty things… what the hell; she’d had a few too many glasses of wine—before the elder Winters had subjected her to the dreaded silent treatment.
That had lasted around two months, then the week before her departure, Seph had been surprised to find the package in her delivery drone chute.
Stay safe.
That was all the message had said.
So far, Seph had done a spectacular job of screwing that up.
She was stuck in a freezing cargo box in deep space with a floating corpse and a lethal Kordolian warrior who kept stealing glances at her—silent, smoldering looks that she didn’t quite understand.
Who was both terrifying and considerate.
Who made her want to unravel him.
Who are you, really? Where did you come from? Why did you come after me?
She had a hard time believing that anybody, human or not, would offer to save her ass just because they were good and noble and kind, but when Torin said it, she wanted to believe him so fucking badly.
It was just that he seemed so damn sincere, especially when he did that look—eyebrows raised and slightly creased, lips curved downward in a half-frown, eyes wide with concern.
He was giving her a slightly muted version of that look right now. “You’re cold.”
“Y-yeah, a little.”
“Why do you humans always minimize everything? You are losing heat like a kilverk in the Vaal.”
“I don’t know what that is, but you’re probably right. They say the best way to keep warm is to keep moving, but I can’t exactly work up a sweat when there’s no gravity in this place.”
“I don’t like the color of your lips.”
“They’ve gone blue, haven’t they?” She wrapped her hands in the folds of her cloak, trying to coax some warmth into her fingers, which were going numb.
“You need to get warm.”
Seph nodded, her teeth chattering incessantly. “T-tell me something I d-don’t know.”
“Seph,” he edged closer to her until they were almost touching, but not quite. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she could almost feel the warmth radiating from his body. “You need to get warm.”
“What are you suggesting?” The cold had caused Seph’s heartbeat to slow down, but now it kicked into gear, fluttering wildly as if she were a teenager on a first date.
That was because a lean, powerful alien with a body made for sin and wet dreams was beside her, his heady masculine scent filling her mind with forbidden thoughts.
She had a fair idea of where this was heading.
“You’re not going to become hypothermic on my watch,” he whispered. “I don’t feel the cold, so you I can lend you my warmth. There’s plenty to go around.”
“Oh.” Words deserted her. All she could do was cling to her little handhold as Torin came around her, pressing his torso against her back.
She got the feeling this wasn’t a negotiation. Really, she had no say in the matter.
This was all Torin.
Heat instantly flooded through her, and it wasn’t just because he was warm.
No, there was something about having a big, dangerous alien curl himself around her that was completely, utterly arousing, especially when his arms found hers underneath all that fabric, his deft fingers gliding along her thermo-Syntech covered skin until they located Seph’s hands.
He rubbed her palms, working toward the tips of her fingers. “You are cold. This is unacceptable.”
Seph’s mind turned to mush. She was freezing and hot at the same time, both shivering and melting inside.
“S-so it’s t-true. You Kordolians really are impervious to cold.”
“I suspect that once upon a time, we must have been light-dwelling creatures, but when our closest star died, the surface of my home planet froze over. Kythia is a cold, desolate place, and our bodies are built to thrive in such conditions.”
To her relief, Seph’s teeth stopped chattering. “I get the impression you don’t exactly miss the place.”
“I do not.”
“Not your scene?”
“Kordolians of the old Empire aren’t the most fun people to be around. I found the place terribly boring. No culture.”
“Do you have a favorite place in the Universe?”
“Earth,” Torin answered without hesitation. “One gets accustomed to the heat after a while. You humans don’t know how good you have it.”
Of course it had to be Earth. He’d obviously spent some time there. Torin’s stunning admission made Seph forget all about the bone-chilling temperature.
Through the layers of her clothing, she could feel his heat. As he slowly shifted and caressed her, she caught gentle impressions of bulging muscle and unwavering strength.
Seph closed her eyes, momentarily allowing herself to forget that she was stuck in a metal death-trap in cold, dark space.
If only we’d met somewhere else…
But one didn’t just meet Kordolians on Earth. Although the silver ones had definitely settled on her home planet, they were rarely seen in public.
“Something’s coming,” Torin said quietly, jolting Seph out of her thoughts. The dangerous edge in his voice was at odds with his gentle touch.
Seph tried and tried and tried, but she couldn’t hear a thing. The silence of true space was an unnerving thing indeed. “If you say so. Let me guess, you have super keen hearing as well?” Despite her sarcasm, a jolt of fear went through her.
She had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.
Uncertainty was a killer.
“Seph, listen to me carefully now. The people who retrieve us are going to be dangerous. They will probably be guarded by soldiers or mercenaries. We will be in a hostile environment, outnumbered and outgunned. The only way you’re going to survive is if you place your absolute trust in me, no matter what happens.”
Why did that sound just a little bit ominous?
“That’s…” Seph didn’t find it easy to trust people, but Torin was saying all the right things. What the hell, he’d gone to great lengths to retrieve her from the Ephrenians. “I th-think I can do that.”
“Good. I’m guessing that my presence here will come as a great shock
to them. At first, they won’t know how to handle me. They might try and attack, especially if we’re greatly outnumbered. If that happens, don’t worry. I’m not that easy to kill.”
“But I am.”
“The only way they’re getting their hands on you is over my dead body.” He removed his right hand from hers, his broad chest flexing as he reached for something.
The next thing Seph knew, she was curling her fingers around something hard and smooth.
“You were trying to get your hands on plasma guns, so here you are. You won’t find anything better than this in the Nine Galaxies.”
Seph stiffened. “Wait, you’re giving me your…”
“I’m not leaving you defenseless. Here. Let me show you how to use it.” He curled his big silver fingers around hers. “Just like any of your human-made guns, there is a trigger here, and a safety here. This blue light on the side is the charge. It will almost always be at full capacity. If you find yourself in danger and you’re forced to shoot, make sure there’s something hard and solid behind you, like a wall. Otherwise, you’ll be thrown flat on your back. I’ve been told that’s what happens to humans who fire our weapons.”
“Too much recoil?”
“Indeed.” His warm breath feathered her cheek, obliterating all remaining traces of the freezing cold. “Finally, if you’re in danger, you must pull the trigger no matter what, even if I’m within range of the blast.”
“You’re saying I should shoot you?” The idea of hitting Torin with the full force of a plasma blast absolutely terrified her, one, because she might hurt him, and two, because who the hell in their right minds would want to shoot a guy who could kill you in the blink of an eye?
“You might maim me a little, but you won’t kill me, Persephone.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Trust me.” He closed her fingers around the weapon. Seph studied the contours of his hands, idly thinking they looked more like hands that might belong to an artist, not a warrior. “There are things that even I don’t understand about myself.”
Curious and curiouser.
It occurred to Seph that his hands were bare. Somehow, he must have discarded his armor-gloves.
His forearms were bare too. Corded muscle flexed as he released his grip on her hand.
His elbows were bare.
When had he…?
Seph swallowed. She didn’t dare turn around. “Torin, when did you undress? Are you…” Naked?
“This is by far the best way to keep you warm,” he said cryptically, a hint of amusement entering his voice.
Clang! And then something metallic hit the outside of their container, and Seph would have gone flying through the gravity-free air if not for Torin’s unwavering presence behind her.
He barely moved, except to reassuringly tighten his arms around her. “Here we go,” he whispered.
“Does nothing surprise you, Kordolian?”
“Me? Good things surprise me. Bad things annoy me. I’m used to dealing with the latter.”
The unnerving metallic sounds continued, each tap and clang sending a chill through Seph. If not for Torin, she would have been tossed all around over the place as momentum kicked in.
The cabin started to shake.
“This is a retrieval. They’re pulling us into their ship. I’m guessing gravity’s going to kick in right about—”
Boom. A dull thud reverberated through the metal walls, followed by a series of shudders. Without Torin, Seph would have overbalanced and fallen awkwardly, but he seemed to anticipate the exact moment when weightlessness ended and gravity kicked in.
Their feet hit the floor, and Torin momentarily took her weight, making sure she landed without a fuss. His armor had mysteriously reappeared, coating his arms and hands in a layer of sleek, sculpted obsidian.
Suddenly, Seph wasn’t weightless anymore. She was standing on the solid floor.
“We’re in. I’m guessing pirates, rogue traders, or even a Kordolian exile ship. Don’t worry. Whoever they are, they’ll understand very soon that you’re not for sale.” He released her and took a step back. “This might sound strange, but in the Greater Universe, the only language the pirates and marauders and cutthroats understand is that of power. For all intents and purposes, once we set foot on that ship, you’re mine.”
The sheer intensity of his expression made her heart flip inside her chest. The way Torin spoke—with absolute authority—gave her a glimpse of yet another side of him.
He’s Kordolian. Just because he comes with polished edges, doesn’t mean you should forget what he really is.
The paranoid part of her imagined an alternate reality, where Torin did whatever he pleased, where he enforced his claim over her with startling brutality.
He was certainly capable of such things.
How could she be so sure he wasn’t any different to the people who wanted to buy her?
Stupid. Stop overanalyzing things. Forget your prejudice. He isn’t like that.
“Believe me, Persephone, I am nothing like the people who are trying to get their hands on you.”
“I know,” she said, feeling guilty for imagining he was capable of such horrible things.
“I can be far, far worse,” he said darkly, a bitter smile curving his lips. “But not to you. Never to you.”
Boom! There was a jarring thud, and Seph guessed the container had just landed on a hard surface.
The metallic banging stopped. The shuddering movement stopped. As if fate wanted to be an asshole and throw in a bit of dramatic effect, the lights in the cabin winked out, thrusting them into darkness.
“That’s intentional,” Torin whispered. “They want you confused, disoriented, and afraid.”
Seph shuddered as she imagined the kind of state she would have been in if Torin hadn’t forced his way into her metal prison.
“Don’t worry about a thing.” He sounded supremely confident.
“Let me guess, you can see in the dark too?”
“One of the joys of living on a lightless planet.”
“Of course.” A high-pitched laugh—half amazement, half disbelief—burst from Seph’s lips. As a xenologist, she felt she should know about these sorts of things, but the Kordolians that had settled on Earth were notoriously secretive. Initially, their arrival had caused a dark storm of panic amongst the human population, but as the fickle news cycle churned on, speculation about the threat of invasion had dwindled, and the Kordolians had gone to ground.
There were occasional reports of sightings, but to see a Kordolian in public was extremely rare. Apparently, they only came out at night, like deadly nocturnal unicorns, and even then they were elusive, evading notice with the help of cleverly designed disguises. The drone-a-razzi tabloids were filled with dark, blurry pictures of unconfirmed sightings.
Elusive, dangerous, sexy. No wonder they’d developed cult followings on Earth. There were even these crazy… fan-groups that were obsessed with catching a glimpse of the silver ones.
And now Seph had one all to herself.
Boom. The doors of the crate snapped open, flooding the room with a shaft of blinding white light. Out of instinct, she stepped out of the column and into the shadows, not wanting to be seen by the outsiders.
“Stay right here,” Torin whispered. “Hold your gun in both hands, safety off.”
Seph’s arms were surprisingly steady as she lifted the weapon, steeling herself.
“Good.”
And then he was gone, leaving Seph blinking furiously as unseen enemies gathered before her.
Somehow, she wasn’t as afraid as she should have been. That was probably the Torin Effect. He didn’t seem afraid of anything, so why should she be?
As her vision cleared, revealing a wide dock filled with a seething crowd of aliens, Seph gasped.
Most of the aliens appeared to be those yellow-skinned Bartharrans. Hyper-aggressive, short-tempered, extremely dangerous Bartharrans. With their menacing front
tusks, coarse features, and intricate tribal tattoos, they looked savage and powerful. They all wore variants of typical Bartharran armor; suits of a rusty red color that seemed to be made from flexible metal chainmail.
Some of them went bare-chested, proudly displaying their broad, muscular bodies and swirling black tattoos. Long black hair was arranged in a variety of styles; high topknots, twin braids, and dreadlocks seemed to be fashionable. Heavy bone jewelry adorned their necks, and their ears were pierced with an array of long white needle-like decorations. Some of the Bartharrans sported thick beards that were plaited and decorated with shiny metal beads.
Bartharrans were a physically large species. The average height of the males seemed to be around seven foot; they were even taller than Torin, and he was tall.
Oh, crap.
There were hundreds of them. Seph and Torin were massively outnumbered.
She caught sight of Torin—now fully armored, his face hidden beneath his dark helm—striding toward the amassed Bartharrans, twin swords drawn.
What are you doing, warrior?
One man against hundreds? Did he have a secret death-wish, or was he just really, really fucking sure of himself?
Startled murmurs rippled through the group of Bartharrans. Torin shouted something in a guttural language she didn’t understand.
Guns were drawn. Murmurs became shouts. The crowd surged.
Boom!
A bolt of bright blue plasma seared her retinas. The Bartharrans raged forward. Torin became a dark blur, somehow evading the plasma fire, slipping into the chaos like a fine thread through the eye of a needle.
Screams ripped through the air.
Shik. Shik. Shik.
One by one, the Bartharrans fell. Seph gasped as a head rolled out from between the legs of a group of shocked Bartharrans.
What the fuck, Torin?
He was killing them. Without warning, without negotiation, without hesitation. He became a terrifying black whirlwind in a sea of yellow and rust-red, showing no mercy.
And all Seph could do was look on in horror as Torin cut a swathe through the Bartharrans. For the moment, it seemed her would-be captors had forgotten about her.
The Kordolian had stolen the show in the most brutal way.
