21 Zoey

I’VE BEEN afraid a few times in my life. The one that comes to mind most clearly is after the car accident, when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever walk again, if I’d ever have a way to live that wasn’t in constant, excruciating pain.

But I’m not sure even that matches the fear I feel when Dax slips out of consciousness and falls to the floor.

I leap out of my own chair immediately, rushing toward him. His burns from the explosion are really bad, and I know that burns of that degree can be fatal, if they’re not treated properly and quickly.

If we were back on The Oasis, I could just take him to the med bay, but there’s nothing of that level here on this small ship. It probably has some kind of first aid kit on board or something, but no advanced medical tech.

I’m going to lose him. After all that, after everything we’ve been through, I’m going to lose him. I just found him.

Terror turns my blood to ice at the thought of it. I’ve lost so much, and I’ve always tried to see the best in the universe no matter what. But if I lose Dax after all of this, it feels like that will be the final blow. Like it will be more than I can possibly take, heaped on everything else that I’ve survived over the years.

Sheer adrenaline and panic give me a rush of energy, and I manage to rouse Dax enough to get him up partway and start the laborious task of getting him down the corridor to our cabin. I half support and half carry his massive weight as carefully as I can, but it’s hard to move him at all when he can barely take a step without collapsing. By the time I manage to get him onto the bed I’m panting and sweating, and every part of me feels weak

from the rush of fear and effort it took to get him here at all. But I’m far from done.

“Dax, is there a med kit on board?” I ask desperately, hovering over him as I gaze down at his blood and dirt-streaked face. “Any kind of medical supplies? I need to help you. Please.”

My mate rouses a tiny bit, his eyes cracking open. “The plants,” he mumbles thickly. “Seeds… plants… heal…”

What he’s trying to tell me clicks immediately with the last word, and I rush back out of the room, looking for the packet that Dax grabbed on our way out of the greenhouse. I find it near the hatch where he dropped it when we came on board, and snatch it up with my heart pounding. There must be something in here that I can use to help him.

“Balm,” Dax manages to croak when I re-enter. “Grind… seeds, leaves… the dark green one with the spiky…” His voice trails off again as I rummage through the pack. “Black seeds. Not… brown…”

I find the tiny plants and the bag of seeds I’m almost certain he’s referring to, although I’m terrified I’m going to get it wrong somehow. Dax is barely lucid as he tries to walk me through this, and my heart is pounding so hard that my hands are shaking as I go back out to the galley to find something I can use to grind up the seeds. I feel like time is working against me, like every single thing I have to gather is one second closer to the end for Dax, but I also know I have to do this right.

“Grind up together… water… will make gel…”

Dax’s voice trails off again, and I swallow hard as I grind the seeds into a fine powder and then add the leaves, noticing as I crush them that a sort of viscous juice oozes out, not unlike aloe. It becomes a thick goo as I grind it all together, and then I add a small bit of water, just enough to thin it out into a slick black gel.

Worry eats away at me like acid, a hundred anxieties creeping in.

Did I grab the wrong seeds? What if I added too much water or did the steps out of order?

I’m terrified that I’ve screwed up somehow. That I’ll fail to help Dax. That the man I love will be lost forever, before I can even tell him how I feel in those words.

Please let this work.

Carefully, wincing every time I touch the raw, red patches of skin, I clean the wounds and then smooth the gel over Dax’s injuries, focusing on

his chest and left side where the burns are the worst. The substance is cool on my hands, and I can feel it making the tips of my fingers slightly numb. It seems to be doing the same for Dax, leaching the heat out of the burns and easing the pain, because his features go completely slack as he slips into full unconsciousness, as if his body is able to finally stop fighting it.

I use up every last bit of the gel, checking to make sure that there are leaves and seeds left in case I need to make more. I don’t want to leave his side for even a second, not even long enough to wash my hands and clean up. I wipe the last lingering traces of the balm off my fingers and crawl carefully onto the other side of the bed, not wanting to jostle him.

Very gently, I reach for his hand, sliding my palm over his and wrapping my fingers around it. It soothes me a little to touch him, grounds me, but I’m still terrified that he won’t wake up.

We stay like that all night—Dax deep in unconscious sleep, me holding his hand and watching him for any signs of a change. I’m desperate for him to get well, to live.

“Come back to me, Dax,” I whisper. “Please. I love you.”

He doesn’t answer, and I watch his chest rise and fall faintly, the gel drying and cracking on his skin as it soothes the burns.

Is it strange to feel this way so soon? To be so certain that I love him?

It’s not the first time I’ve wondered that. After all, I’ve only known Dax for a matter of weeks, and some of that was with bars between us, when he would barely converse with me. But looking down at his angular face, I don’t think time is what matters in this case.

Because I know down to my bones that it’s how I feel, and whether it happened fast or slow, that wouldn’t change.

I think of everything we’ve been through—of our conversations in the brig on The Oasis, of his escape and my chasing after him, our arguments on board this tiny ship and the night we fell into bed together, the way we danced on the planet where we traded ships, and everything that happened after we landed on Zivon.

No. I bite my lip, swallowing back the tears that burn my eyes. I don’t think it’s strange at all.

It might have happened quickly, but if it did, it’s just because it was destined to be this way. I’ve always believed there was a reason I’m still here, a reason why the accident didn’t kill me—and now I think this is it.

We’ve been through so much more in a short time than an ordinary couple, in the most extraordinary circumstances.

All of that has allowed me to see exactly who Dax is, and I have no doubt that I know him, all the way down to his soul.

I’ve seen his pain and his heartache over his brother and the loss of his people and home, his hope for something better if he could clear his name, and his unfettered joy when we’ve been together. I’ve seen how much he cares—for his family, his people, for me—and how much he’s been willing to take on for them, how much he’s carried on his own shoulders all these years.

He’s a good man, loyal and kind, and he’s gone through so much.

I want him to have good years ahead of him, so many good years. And I want to be there with him for all of them.

That realization strikes me more than anything—that I want a future with Dax, a real one, not just a passionate affair on board a space ship. When Ryven finds the Zivonians their new home, I want a life with Dax. A house, a place of our own, all the simple little daily things that couples do. I want to eat meals together in our little kitchen and lie together in our own bed and watch him make a beautiful garden around our home.

I want a family with him. I want everything. All the things I never dared hope for back on Earth, and that I know he gave up on after his imprisonment.

But for us to have any of that, he has to live. He has to.

Vaguely, it occurs to me that I don’t know how to fly the ship. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try. So if Dax dies, I’ll probably die too. But the thought is fleeting, barely even registering in the swirling emotions that tighten my chest and throat and make it hard to even breathe. I’ve had brushes with death before, coming impossibly close to it, and the thought of dying doesn’t scare me nearly as much as the thought of facing life without Dax by my side.

I don’t sleep at all when the lights dim at night, and I barely rest the next day either.

When I’m able to spare a thought for anything else, I hope like hell that Dax managed to set the course for The Oasis correctly before he passed out. We’re just hurtling through space, and I don’t dare try to adjust the controls. Knowing my luck, I’d accidentally set the ship to auto-destruct or

something like that. I peek into the cockpit at one point, but everything on the control panel looks like gibberish to me.

So I just focus on Dax and push the rest of it out of my head as best I can.

It’s out of my control, and if there’s one thing that the accident and my injuries taught me, it’s how to cope with things that are within a limited scope of my own control.

What I can do is care for Dax, so I pour all my energy into him. I help him eat and drink in the moments when he flickers back into consciousness, making a thin gruel-like food in the galley and getting that and water down him whenever I can, grinding up the seeds and leaves into fresh gel when the old layer gets too cracked and dry. That seems to relax him the most. He slips into a deep sleep every time I clean his skin with a cool wet cloth and reapply the gel, and it makes me feel better to see it.

The gel seems to be working, too. His wounds are healing much faster than they normally would, which fills me with relief. At least something is going right, and it gives me hope that Dax will be okay.

Finally, on our second day in space, Dax blinks his eyes open, coming fully awake. He’s had moments of partial lucidity before this, times when I was able to help him eat and drink a little, but as he turns his head to meet my gaze, I realize that he seems much less groggy and out of it now.

“Hi,” I whisper, my voice raspy. There’s so much more I want to say, but in this moment, that single word is all I can get out.

“My mate,” he murmurs softly. “My Zoey.”

“I’m here. I’m right here, Dax. I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.” Choking back a sob of relieved joy, I lean forward to kiss him.

The feeling of his lips against mine after so long is sweeter than anything I’ve felt before, and the connection between us flares immediately, making it impossible not to deepen the kiss. My lips part as I breathe him in, my senses overwhelmed by him. His tongue slides against mine as he breathes me in too, a soft groan escaping his lips.

That sound makes me pull away a little, even though I know it’s a groan of pleasure and not pain. But I’m afraid of hurting him in his condition, and if the kiss goes on for too much longer, I’m not sure I’ll have the presence of mind to be able to stop.

“Come back,” Dax growls. The rumble of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I shake my head regretfully, pushing a lock of his dark hair

out of his face and trailing my fingertips over his forehead.

“You need to get well first,” I tell him gently. “And then,” I add, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at my lips, “I’ll be the one who won’t let you out of bed.”

“I’d prefer now,” Dax says a touch grumpily, and I notice that despite his still-healing injuries, at least one part of him seems fully alert. But he runs his knuckles over my cheek, his gold-rimmed brown eyes softening as he looks at me. “But I love how protective you are of me.”

“Always,” I whisper.

He reaches for me, tugging me down onto the bed. “I want you near me,” he murmurs, his hand running down my arm. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been right here the whole time,” I assure him, curling up next to him on the bed carefully, making sure not to bump any of his injuries. The raw patches of skin from the burns are so much better than they were, but I don’t want to do anything that could slow the healing. It feels so good to lie next to him, though, to have him awake and able to talk and hold me. I’m almost giddy with relief, and for the first time since we left Zivon, the knotted muscles in my shoulders start to relax a little.

“I can’t believe we got away. Vreck, I’m sorry for bringing you into so much danger.” Dax curses quietly as he drapes his arm over my waist.

“You shouldn’t be,” I tell him, shaking my head as I meet his gaze. “It was terrifying sometimes, and yeah, it was dangerous. But it was probably for the best that we went.”

“You think so?” Dax’s brows draw together skeptically, and I can see the concern for me in his eyes, even though he’s the one who’s recovering from life-threatening burns.

“If we hadn’t gone,” I point out, “we wouldn’t have found out what really happened with your brother. Now you can have some closure about that. You know the truth, or at least as much of it as you can know.”

“It’s still hard for me to understand in some ways.” He sighs. “But you’re right. At least now I know that he never meant for our people to be destroyed. The Kruul drew him in with their lies, as they almost drew me in, and he thought that what he was doing was right—the best thing for our people and our planet. He was misguided, and he still betrayed us, but he didn’t mean for anyone to die.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, pressing his mouth against my hair as he breathes in my scent, and I relax into his embrace, soothed by his touch.

“In some ways, I’ll always be angry at Syrus for what he did,” Dax finally admits. “But if you’ve taught me anything, my suvi, it’s that holding on to something like that, nurturing it, can be more damaging than learning to let it go.”

I look up at him, surprised by his words, but he continues without missing a beat.

“I can’t control what my brother did. Only what I did when faced with the same choice, and what I’ll do in the future. I know now what choice I would have made in his place, because the Kruul tried to tempt me with their lies too. But I didn’t believe them. We got away, and now I can return some of our planet back to my people, when we get back to The Oasis.”

He glances over at the leather satchel that’s propped against the small table in the corner, where all the detritus of my attempt at making the healing balm is scattered.

“Our planet is still uninhabitable,” he murmurs, and I can hear the pain in his voice. “But at least we’ll have those seeds.” He looks back at me, the depth of emotion in his eyes making my heart skip a beat. “And thanks to you, I have so much more now. More than I ever dared to hope for.”

22 Dax

IT TAKES several days of travel at hyper speed for us to reach the area where The Oasis should be. It’s time I’m grateful for, since it allows me to continue to heal and enjoy more precious days with Zoey now that I’m awake and alert again.

I have no idea what our reception will be like when we return, but I’m very aware that my time as a free man might be coming to an end soon. I want to savor every moment that I have with her without restrictions, every last bit of freedom that we have together. The temptation to take off somewhere else in the universe with her—to just run and start a life somewhere new—is strong, and I’m not entirely sure that she wouldn’t go along with it if I suggested it.

But I know I can’t give in to that temptation any more than I could give in to the temptation to believe that the Kruul really wanted to restore Zivon. I have to go back and face Ryven and the others. I need to give them the seeds that I salvaged, and then I’ll find out what happens after I tell them the truth.

All I can do is tell my story and hope that they’ll believe me.

Finding The Oasis itself is a bit tricky. There’s a cloaking device on it, so I can’t track its location from our ship. All I can do is get near the general area where I know the last coordinates were, and then use the comms device that I kept from the original ship I stole to reach out and contact them.

Hopefully, we’ll receive an answer.

Zoey comes into the cockpit as I open up the channel, and I can see the nervousness in her face too.

“Who is this?” A deep voice I recognize as belonging to Anzir comes through after just a moment, his tone suspicious. “Where did you get the comms unit you’re using?”

“I took it from the ship I stole when I escaped the brig,” I say, working to keep my voice even. “This is Dax. I have the Terran woman, Zoey, with me. I’d like to speak to Commander Ryven. I’ll explain everything to him.”

There’s silence for a moment, then Anzir mutters, “Vrecking hells.” He raises his voice slightly as he calls to someone else. “Fetch the commander! Tell him it’s important.”

Things fall quiet again for a short time, and then the channel flickers to holo mode. Ryven’s face comes into view, along with a few of the other Zivonian warriors behind him. His expression is set in hard, angry lines, and my chest tightens, but I plunge forward exactly as I said I would.

I tell him the whole story as plainly and succinctly as I can, from the truth of what happened on the night of the attack to the reason why I stole the ship, and what happened after we landed on Zivon, including the cave we found and all the documents inside of it.

“I didn’t kidnap Zoey,” I tell him. “She snuck on board and insisted on coming with me. But still, I take responsibility for that. I should have brought her back—”

“He’s telling the truth,” my mate interjects, moving into view of the channel. “I did follow him on board, and I refused to go back. I know it was stupid and reckless, Commander Ryven, but I’m the one responsible for getting on the ship. Not Dax. He never hurt me or threatened me in any way.”

Ryven doesn’t say anything, but his brows draw together slightly as he listens to my mate. As if encouraged by the fact that he hasn’t interrupted her, Zoey continues on, speaking quickly.

“Dax is telling the truth, about all of it. I saw the diaries and documents in the cave with my own eyes. Syrus was the one who disabled the defensive surveillance systems. The Kruul convinced him to believe their lies, using him as a means to execute their attack, but Dax had no part in it. He took responsibility for something that wasn’t his fault, and he escaped to try to find out the full truth about what happened.”

The ache in my chest that formed while I was speaking intensifies as I listen to Zoey vouch for me. I’ve begun to make my peace with everything that’s happened, but it still hurts to say all of it, to relive it all over again. All I can hope for now is that my commander and my people will forgive me—if not now, then one day. After all, I’m not completely blameless. I didn’t betray them to the Kruul, but I did lie. I let them believe that I was the guilty one, instead of telling the truth about Syrus, keeping it a secret from everyone.

I know there’s a strong chance they won’t believe me, that they’ll think I’ve coerced Zoey into backing up my story, and that as soon as we land on The Oasis—if we’re allowed to land at all—they’ll lock me up again.

My heart breaks at the thought, not for me, but for Zoey, as I think of her spending her life with her mate behind bars. I know she won’t forswear the bond or stay away from me if that happens. She’ll stick by my side and visit me and spend all the time that she can with me, spending her entire life loving a man who can’t do more than reach out through bars to touch her.

It makes me want to scream… or run.

But I know I can’t, no matter what I might face.

No matter what happens to me, the seeds need to be returned to my fellow Zivonians, and I know that Ryven and the others will always take care of Zoey. She’ll be protected and safe no matter what, and that’s more important to me than anything.

Even my own fate.

When Zoey finally stops speaking, Ryven is quiet for a long moment. My mate squeezes my hand, her fingers laced tightly through mine in full view of the commander, and my heart pounds in my chest.

Finally, at long last, Ryven gives a single nod. “Very well, You may re- board The Oasis. We’ll deal with all of this once you’re on the ship.”

He tells me the coordinates of their location, his voice crisp and short.

Then the channel cuts out, the communication ending abruptly.

I sink into the pilot’s chair. I still have no idea whether or not I’ll be imprisoned again when we get back, but at least we’ll be allowed on board. That will ensure Zoey’s safety, and the thought gives me some solace. I enter the coordinates into the control panel, realizing as I do that we’re closer to the hidden ship than I thought.

It won’t be long at all before we arrive, and I push back the feeling of impending loss. I can’t allow myself to hope that I’ll be freed. It’s better to

cherish the last few moments that I have with Zoey and expect the worst for myself. It will hurt less, in the end.

As if she can sense how I’m feeling, Zoey crawls onto my lap, still careful of my healing chest, and wraps her arms around my neck. I press my mouth against her hair, breathing in her scent, the smell of soap and the warmth of her skin, and try to memorize it.

This might be the last time I’m able to hold her in my arms like this, to embrace her without a barrier between us. It makes me wish I’d thrown caution to the wind and claimed her every chance I got over the past days of travel, my wounds be vrecked—but even knowing that soon I might be forced back into celibacy, I can’t regret a single second of what we’ve done.

It will be harder to give all of this up, now that I know what I could have.

But Zoey was right when she said that it’s best to live life to the fullest in the moment, no matter what. The joy of it, the pleasure and the closeness, the chance for real intimacy with a mate of my own, was worth the possible pain of losing it all.

And there are things I want to tell her, things I need to tell her, before we face what comes next.

I lean down and kiss her, brushing my lips gently over hers.

“You saved my life in so many ways,” I murmur, stroking my knuckles over her cheekbone. “You brought me back to life. I love you, Zoey. Whatever comes next, I mean that with all my heart. You are my mate, the one person in all the universe who fits with me completely, and it’s a gift I could never be worthy of. But I will always love you, with everything that I am.”

There’s a shimmer in her dark brown eyes as she leans up, kissing me again as she laughs softly, sounding almost in awe.

“I love you too,” she whispers, pressing her hand against my cheek. “Now I know why they call it ‘falling,’ because it happened as fast as that. The mate bond was the nudge that pushed me off the cliff, but I fell in love with you all on my own. I’m lucky to have found you. We were meant to be together, Dax, and I’ll always believe that… even if we’re separated. I love you with all my heart.”

Her lips find mine again, and for a while we lose track of time, kissing each other gently in the pilot’s seat with the view of space all around us. I savor the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth, holding her as

close to me as I can, until I finally rest my chin atop her head again, stroking her hair.

“You know that Ryven will likely imprison me when we return?” I speak quietly, gently, but I want her to understand. I want to make sure that she’s not blindsided by the commander’s orders, if they do come.

My mate nods, her face serious. “Of course I know that,” she says, her voice even. “But I’m not going to let them separate us.”

“Zoey, we’re not going to have a choice—”

She leans back, taking my face in her hands and meeting my eyes. “There’s always a choice. If they want to lock you up again, then they can lock me up too. I told you that I’m staying with you. No matter what.”

“No.” I shake my head, worry cutting through the peaceful fog I was in a moment ago. “The only way I’ll be able to bear any of this is knowing that you’re safe and happy, my suvi. That you’re protected and living a good and full life. Not locked in a cell for the rest of your life.”

“I won’t be happy if I’m not with you,” Zoey insists. “You are my life now, Dax. After everything we’ve gone through together, I’m not going to let them separate us.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. I love that Zoey never lets me win a fight when she’s certain that she’s right about something, that she challenges me at every turn. She’s made me a better man in so many ways.

I don’t want to spend our last moments together arguing, though, so I let the subject drop for now and just hold her, feeling her heart beat against mine.

There’s no way I’ll allow them to lock her up too, no matter how much she insists that she’s going with me. I would never allow my mate to go through that. I was lucky enough to be given this time with her, no matter how short. And it’s the duty and honor of my life to protect my mate, regardless of what it costs me.

I’ve failed at a great many things in life, I think as I wrap my arms around my mate, memorizing the feel of her body and the scent of her hair, the small noises she makes as she curls closer to me. I’ve made many mistakes along the way.

But this—protecting Zoey—is the one thing I intend to get right.

23 Zoey

AS THE OASIS comes back into view and we pull into the docking bay, my heart skips a beat. I can see a number of Zivonians waiting in the hangar for us—it looks as if at least half of them are there, if not more—and I swallow back my anxiety as Dax gathers up the pack with the seeds and plants in it and we prepare to exit the ship.

I’ve never gotten the impression that I personally am in trouble, but it doesn’t matter. My stomach still churns with worry for Dax. I have no idea whether Ryven will believe him and give him a second chance or just lock him up again, and I’m not sure what I’ll do if it’s the latter. I meant it when I said I’d go with my mate anywhere, even down to the brig, but that’s not what I want for either of us.

It’s not what Dax deserves.

I want the life with him that I dreamed about while I sat with him waiting for him to wake up, the future that he should have. None of this was his fault, and I don’t know how I can just go about my days living with the Zivonians if they won’t believe him and allow him to make up for his mistakes.

My hands shake with nerves as we walk toward Ryven and the others. Our whole future is about to be decided in the next few minutes, and I wish more than anything that Dax and I could have just kept going, that we could have flown off somewhere else and started over together. But I know he would never have been happy like that, always running, always separated from his people, always knowing that they believed him to be a coward and a traitor.

We went to Zivon to make things right, and this is how that will be accomplished.

But still, I kind of feel like I might throw up.

Ryven has a stern expression on his face as we approach, and he’s flanked by his second-in-command, Siro, as well as Kate and an older warrior named Anzir. Rok, Akos, and Nyx stand nearby with their mates, and I can see worry on the women’s faces, as if they’re not sure what’s about to happen either.

A number of other Zivonians and several more of my fellow humans have gathered in the hangar to watch our arrival, and faint whispers rise up among them as we approach. Dax stands tall as he stops in front of Ryven, bowing his head respectfully and holding out the pack that he took from the greenhouse.

“Seeds and plants, Commander, salvaged from the Kruul compound on Zivon,” he says as he hands it over. “The Kruul had no right to the fruits of our planet, and I’ve brought all that I could home to our people, restored to the hands that ought to grow it.” He lifts his eyes to meet Ryven’s, not a trace of the strain or worry that I know he’s feeling in his face. “These seeds may be all that’s left of our home world, and they don’t belong to the Kruul. They belong to the Zivonians.”

Ryven takes the pack out of Dax’s hand and opens it, gazing down at the contents thoughtfully. Finally he lowers it, looking at Dax with that same expression.

“I don’t understand,” he says finally. “If what you told me over the comms is true, Dax, then why would you lie all those years? To me, and to your people?”

Dax takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t bear the thought of my brother’s lost honor. I didn’t understand why he would do such a thing, and I couldn’t face it. I felt that it was my own failing somehow, that I didn’t see some sign, some reason why he would commit such an awful betrayal. And some part of me, I think, wanted to believe that he hadn’t done it. That if I changed the story of what happened that night, I could make it not so. So rather than allow his honor to be sullied, I took the blame. I felt as his brother, that the fault must partially be mine, in any case. I shouldered the fault, rather than let my brother’s name be that of a traitor. But now I know the truth of all of it, and I know that I was wrong to conceal it. I was wrong to lie. I was wrong to mislead you, and all our people.”

“You were wrong to do that,” Ryven says gravely.

Oh no. My stomach ties itself into a knot of fear as I glance between the commander and Dax. I can’t quite get a read on how Ryven feels about all of this, and my mate has schooled his own expression to remain carefully impassive. I know he’s planning to accept whatever consequences there may be for lying all these years, and for stealing a ship to return to Zivon— and that’s assuming the rest of his people actually believe his story of what truly transpired on the night of the attack.

“You have brought us back a small piece of Zivon,” Ryven goes on, gesturing to the bag of seeds. “And for that, we are grateful. If what you say about your brother is true, then we cannot keep you imprisoned for a crime that wasn’t yours. But,” he adds, his expression growing somber, “we will need to assess the veracity of your claims first. My advisors and I will want to speak to you and Zoey about this at greater length, as well as go back through our own records of what happened before the attack. Until all of that has been completed, you’ll have to remain in the brig.”

My heart drops, but Dax just nods, his features smoothing out. “I understand, Commander.”

Siro and Anzir step forward, but rather than grabbing Dax, they just flank him on either side. They don’t even try to pull me away from him, allowing me to grip his hand as they escort him from the hanger. My fingers wrap tightly around his, and I can’t help the tears that burn my eyes as we traverse the familiar path to the brig. When we reach it, Anzir and Siro step back a pace, giving me a moment of relative privacy with my mate.

Dax turns toward me, pulling me close with an arm around my waist as his other hand rises to catch the tear that spills over and trails down my cheek.

“It will be all right, my suvi,” he murmurs.

“How can you be okay with this?” I ask, my voice choked. “After all this time, to be locked up again just like you were before—”

“But it’s not like it was before.” His lips curve in a soft smile, his gold- rimmed eyes fixed on mine. “Before, I had nothing to hope for. Now? I have everything.”

My chest aches at the love in his voice, and I wrap my arms around him, burying my face against his strong chest. “What if they don’t let you out? Even after they do their investigation, what if Ryven decides he still thinks you’re guilty?”

“We’ll deal with that if it comes.” Dax’s voice rumbles against my cheek. He reaches down, tilting my chin up a little so that he can find my eyes again. “But he’s agreed to give me the same thing you did, Zoey. A chance. That’s all I can ask for.”

“I’ll tell Ryven that I want to stay down here too,” I blurt, my hands splaying over his broad back. “Maybe he’ll let me—”

Dax silences me with a kiss, and even though I know he’s trying to distract me from what I was about to say, it works. My arms tighten around him, my tongue tangling with his at it slides into my mouth, and I lose myself in the perfect feeling of being entirely surrounded by him.

If I lose this, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Despite the fact that I know he would give anything for me to remain free, if he’s sentenced to remain in the brig, I’ll find a way to live down here with him. Because there’s nowhere else I would rather be in the entire universe than by Dax’s side… even if there are bars between us.

That thought makes me recall our time being held captive on Zivon, and the torture of being held in side-by-side cells, close enough to touch but unable to hold each other the way we wanted to.

When our lips break apart, I press my forehead against Dax’s, squeezing my eyes shut to press back the fresh tears.

“I’ll wait for you,” I whisper. “I’ll be by your side as much as I can, in every way I can, no matter what. I promise, Dax.”

“Thank you.” His large hands cup the sides of my face, warm and firm. “I could never deserve someone as good and lovely as you, my sweet mate. But selfishly, I’m glad I have you anyway.”

“You do deserve me,” I insist. “And I deserve you too. So come back to me. Please.”

He nods, finally releasing me and stepping back. Anzir and Siro come forward to lock him back in his cell, and watching the barred door close as he stands behind it is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

24 Zoey

THE NEXT SEVERAL days are a whirlwind. Time seems to drag on and speed up at the same time. Every moment that Dax is locked in the brig feels like an eternity, but the days themselves pass very quickly, full of endless interviews with Ryven and his advisors.

We tell our story over and over, both separately and together, and Dax tells them in greater detail what happened on the night of the attack. Now that he’s fully committed to clearing his name and is telling the truth about everything that happened, he’s able to find a few other Zivonians on the ship who can corroborate parts of his story. A Zivonian named Marrik confirms that he saw Syrus sneaking off into the woods several times— probably to meet with the Kruul who were feeding him misinformation and lies, although Marrik didn’t know that at the time.

The entire process is full of highs and lows, moments where I feel hopeful that Dax will be exonerated and moments when I’m on the verge of trying to break him out of the brig so we can make a run for it. But through it all, my mate stays patient and steady, often comforting me when I go down to visit him in the brig. He’s so different now than the gruff and bitter man I met when I first stumbled into the cellblock, and I know it’s because he’s finally gotten the closure he so desperately needed.

Now at least some of the wounds on his heart can start to heal.

Finally, after five days of waiting on pins and needles, I wait next to Dax’s cell, my fingers interlaced with his through the bars. Ryven, Siro, and a few of his other advisors enter the brig, and my grip on Dax’s hand tightens as my pulse starts to race.

This is it. The moment when they’ll either decide to let him go or keep him locked up.

“Commander.” Dax nods respectfully to Ryven, his voice even. I have no idea how he’s keeping himself so outwardly calm right now, but I know I’m not doing as good of a job as he is. My chest is rising and falling fast as I try to keep my heart rate under control, and I’m pretty sure my palm is sweating where it’s pressed against Dax’s.

“Dax.” Ryven inclines his head. “After reviewing all the evidence available to us, my advisors and I have reached a decision. We believe that it truly was your brother, not you, who allowed the Kruul to breach our territory without warning. While your lie about that matter was a transgression, you have paid for that mistake long enough.” His expression softens a little as he adds, “And you have done us all a service, bringing back those seeds from Zivon. We’ve already begun to cultivate some of them, keeping another small piece of our home world alive.”

There’s a brief pause, then Ryven gestures to Siro. His second-in- command steps forward, unlocking the door to the cell.

“You have served your time,” Ryven continues. “And you have suffered losses alongside the rest of us. You are free to rejoin our community as a full and welcome member.”

Dax lets out a shuddering breath beside me, and I can barely swallow past the lump in my throat. He releases my hand so that he can step out of the cell, coming to a stop before the tall, handsome commander.

“Thank you,” Dax murmurs.

Ryven nods, and something seems to pass between the two men before Ryven’s serious expression breaks into a small smile.

“We’ll need to find quarters for you to stay in,” he says, and before I can even think about it, I blurt out the words I’ve been dying to say ever since we got back to The Oasis.

“He can stay with me!”

Ryven pauses, his mouth twitching with amusement at my sudden outburst.

It’s no secret that Dax and I are mated. Even if we hadn’t informed Ryven and the others about it as we told them our story, it would be obvious to anyone by now, considering I’ve spent every possible moment down here in the brig visiting him, reluctant to ever leave his side.

“That’s fine,” Ryven says with a smile. “I thought you two might like to share quarters. But still, we’ll try to find you a bigger cabin, since it will be the two of you. For now, though, Dax can stay in yours.”

He and the others lead us out of the brig, and as Dax and I make our way hand in hand through the ship, we’re stopped a few times. Kate, Callie, and Scarlett all make excited faces at me, and Tara squeezes my hand as I pass by.

A few of the Zivonians stop us too, wishing us well and thanking Dax for rescuing more of the seeds. They seem happy and relieved to see him free and back on The Oasis, and I can’t help but wonder if these handful of people never really wanted to believe that Dax had done what he claimed to, just like I couldn’t believe it.

Others are more standoffish, side-eyeing him as we walk past and whispering quietly, but I can’t blame them. I know as well as anyone that forgiveness is a very personal thing, and it comes to some faster than others. I have faith that they’ll come around eventually, and that in time, everyone will trust Dax once again. I know what kind of man he is—good, and loyal, and strong—and I know he’ll work hard to earn back their trust.

I’m so relieved and happy as Dax and I make our way down the corridors toward my cabin that I feel like I could float away. I can’t believe that not so long ago, I was following him down these same hallways as he made his way to the hangar to steal a ship.

Now we’re back here, together, both of us free and alive.

The moment we step into my small cabin and the door shuts behind us, Dax pulls me into his arms. His hands smooth over my hair as he bends to kiss me deeply, drawing me up against his muscled chest as I rise up onto my tiptoes.

“You did it. You’re free,” I whisper softly, arching against him.

The separation of the past several days, where I couldn’t do more than kiss him or hold his hand through the bars, makes me desperate to feel all of him pressed against me. His mouth feels so good on mine, his body is so warm and solid, and I moan helplessly as his tongue slides into my mouth, claiming me with a kiss.

I slide my hands underneath his shirt, running my fingers over every ridge of muscle from his abdomen up to his chest, feeling the slick, new- healed skin underneath my hands. We both have scars now, both of us

permanently marked by the dangers we’ve faced. But he’ll never be less beautiful in my eyes, and I know he would say the same about me.

“Gods, Zoey. I’ve missed your hands. Missed your lips. Everything about you.”

Dax shudders at my touch. His hips jerk against mine, his cock already rigid and straining against my thigh, and another delicious shiver of lust runs through me with that same giddy sensation as before.

He’s mine, forever, I think wildly, my hands pressed against his chest.

They’re not going to take him away from me. We get to be together.

I tug his shirt off, pulling it up over his head as we briefly break our kiss. The moment it lands on the floor, Dax looks down at me, his gold- ringed eyes dark with desire and some emotion too intense to name.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “My mate, my love. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I whisper, leaning into his touch.

He shakes his head, chuckling deep in his throat as the knuckles of his other hand trail over my cheekbone. “That’s not true. You did everything.”

As if to seal his words, he takes my face in both his hands, pulling me up against him as his lips crash down onto mine, and I gasp with the ferocity of it.

I can never get enough of him—of the warmth of his mouth, the hardness of his body, the scent of his skin as I breathe him in, or the taste of him as his tongue dances with mine. Our bodies strain toward each other as we kiss wildly, hands and mouths everywhere as he starts to move me toward the bed, backing me up without ever breaking the kiss.

His hands go down to my hips, lifting me up effortlessly and setting me on the mattress. I breathe in sharply as his hands go down to the tie of my dress, undoing it with a sharp yank that sends the fabric spilling off me. His palms skate up my arms and over my shoulders so that the dress slides down, pooling around me.

Dax looks at me hungrily, taking in every inch of my now-naked body. “Vreck. I’ve been dreaming of this for five very long days. But my dreams could never compare to the real thing.”

Stepping back, he yanks open the buttons of his own pants, his movements quick and sharp with his own evident hunger. I can see how much he wants me, how much he needs me in the way his eyes never leave my body as he shoves his pants down, his thick cock springing free.

“Lie down on the bed,” he commands, fisting his cock as he steps toward me. The intent in his gaze sends another wave of arousal through me, and I’m quick to comply, scooting up higher on the firm mattress and lying back.

He crawls up after me, spreading my legs wide as he settles his large body between them. He strokes his cock a few times as he kneels between my thighs, and my pussy clenches in response. I lick my lips, suddenly ravenous for the taste of him, for that unique flavor that’s all Dax.

“I want to put my mouth on you,” I whisper, rising up onto my elbows.

Dax’s eyes flare wide, the gold rings around his irises glinting like fire. I can tell that my words have turned him on, and as he drags his gaze down my body, he looks as hungry as I feel. His focus settles on my core, and he reaches down with his free hand and slides two fingers through my folds. He brings them to his mouth, sucking my arousal off his fingertips, and I let out a whimper.

Something lights in Dax’s eyes at the sound, and he moves with the graceful fluidity of a predator, lifting me off the bed as if I weigh nothing. He settles on his back, draping my body over his so that my knees are braced on either side of his head, my breasts pressing against his lower belly. His cock bobs right in front of my face, but before I even have a chance to reach for it, Dax buries his face between my thighs, pulling me down so that I’m practically smothering him as he devours me.

“I want your mouth on me too, my suvi,” he growls, his words muffled as he laps at me. “But I need to taste you. I need more of you. Gods, you’re so sweet.”

His cock stiffens even more, arousal leaking from the tip, and I haven’t even touched it yet. He’s turning himself on just by eating me out, I realize, and that thought makes a shiver work its way through my body. I lean forward, lifting one hand from the mattress to help angle his cock as I slide my lips over him, running my tongue around the crown as I tease the nodes that border it.

“Oh vreck, Zoey…” Dax groans, his hands sliding over the curves of my ass and thighs. His tongue keeps sliding over every part of my core as if he’s trying to consume every drop of my arousal. “I want to make you come over and over again.”

As I slide my mouth over his tip, sucking as I run my tongue around the edge, he groans again, his fingers stroking between my legs and over my

swollen lips. I grunt softly as he slides two fingers inside me, rewarding him by taking more of him into my mouth.

“That feels so vrecking good. Gods, yes.” His hips jerk, thrusting more of his length up into my mouth and throat.

He throbs in my mouth as he speaks, and hearing the way his voice gets more and more hoarse every time he speaks makes me feel powerful and sexy. A flood of arousal rushes through my body, and I can feel myself soaking his fingers as he thrusts them inside me.

“I’m… close!” I gasp out, releasing his cock from my mouth for just a second.

His thighs are tensed, his hips twitching underneath me as I wrap my lips around him again and slide down farther, taking as much of his massive length as I can. I reach between his legs, cupping his balls in my hand gently and stroking my fingers over the sensitive flesh, and his grip on my ass tightens warningly.

We’re both at the edge of our self-control after being separated, and I can feel how close he is to losing whatever shreds of restraint he has left.

If I thought he was eating me out before, it’s nothing compared to what he does now. It almost feels like he grew a second tongue, because it seems to be everywhere. He flicks my clit before circling it in a fast pattern, then drags his tongue up my entire length like a cat lapping up milk before stiffening it and thrusting it inside me.

I suck him harder, my thighs splaying open wantonly as I grind myself backward against his face, unable to control the pleasure radiating through every inch of my body. I want all of him, and I arch my back deeply, moaning around his thick cock as he feasts on my pussy.

I’m on the verge of coming already, my body quivering with pleasure, and I grip his thighs as I run my tongue along the ridges of his shaft, coming up for air and teasing the nodes on the tip with my tongue. His cock strains against my mouth as he growls with pleasure, sucking my clit into his mouth. He lashes his tongue against me, and the sensation is so intense that my eyes practically roll back in my head.

Dax squeezes my ass, his hands sliding over my curves before his index finger slips between my cheeks, teasing my entrance there. I gasp as he circles my back hole, his lips and tongue still licking my core.

“You’re so tight back here, my suvi,” he groans.

He presses his finger more firmly, sliding it into my ass up to the first knuckle, and I groan at the strange new sensation. It feels good, foreign and exciting, and his tongue keeps tormenting my clit as he buries his finger deeper in my ass, fingering me there and sending me catapulting over the edge into orgasm.

I can barely keep my mouth around him, my back arching and legs shaking as I grind myself against him, coming hard on his tongue. The climax wracks my entire body, deeper and more intense than ever. There’s something so possessive about the way he’s touching me, laying claim to my body in a way he never has before, and I lose myself in a haze of pleasure as he helps me ride out the orgasm, forcing it to go on and on. His other arm goes over my back, holding me down against him as he keeps licking.

“Let go for me,” he rasps. “Don’t hold anything back, my sweet mate.”

He sucks my clit into his mouth as his finger slides all the way into my ass, and my moans reach a fever pitch, almost screaming around his cock from the intensity of it.

I gush all over his tongue, drenching his mouth and chin with my arousal, and he lets out a feral noise. His cock pulses in my mouth as he erupts, the hot rush of his release spilling over my tongue. I clamp my mouth around him, swallowing everything he has to give me, clinging to his strong thighs as my body shakes like a leaf.

When the last aftershocks of pleasure finally subside, Dax lifts me up again.

I’m so limp and boneless that he moves me easily, settling me down on my back on the mattress. He rolls over and finds his way between my legs, hovering over me. His lips are still wet with my release, and he kisses me deeply, not seeming to care in the slightest that he just came into my mouth. I’m sure he can taste himself on me, just like I can taste myself on his lips, and the thought makes me feel dirty in the best way.

“I liked that,” Dax murmurs, brushing his lips over mine. “I liked getting to taste you with your mouth on me. I liked feeling you taking your pleasure from me while I filled your mouth.” He kisses me again, long and deep, his tongue tangling with mine. And then he pulls back, grinning as his hand slides up my waist, cupping and gently squeezing my breast. “And what about you, my mate? Did you like what I did to you?”

“Yes,” I whisper breathily, wrapping my legs around his as I arch into his hand. “I didn’t know I’d be into that, but I loved it. It felt so good.”

“Someday I’ll claim you there with my cock,” he growls, sliding his hand around to grip my ass cheek again. His voice full of lustful promise, and it makes my core clench.

“I want that.” I bite my lower lip, dragging it through my teeth. “I want you to have every part of me.”

“Vreck, Zoey.” His pupils dilate until the brown of his irises nearly vanishes, leaving nothing but deep black pools ringed with gold. His skin shifts to a dark green as his cock throbs against my inner thigh, and he adjusts his position a little so that the broad head finds my soaked entrance.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my tongue sliding into his mouth and tangling with his as I run my hands over his shoulders and through his dark, wild hair. He presses into me slowly, allowing both of us to feel the incredible stretch as my body somehow accommodates his massive cock.

Bracing one hand beside my head, he drives his hips forward until he’s buried to the hilt. His dark eyes are fixed on mine, holding my gaze as we stare at each other. The soul mark is etched deeply on his skin by now, as permanent as any tattoo, and I reach up and trace my fingers over it, reveling in the way Dax shudders under that light touch.

“I love you,” I whisper, sliding my hand around to the back of his neck and delving my fingers into the dark hair at his nape. “So fucking much.”

“My sweet, perfect mate,” Dax murmurs. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and for eternity beyond that.”

He drives into me hard as if to punctuate his words, his hips snapping against mine as he groans with the feeling. His hands sweep over my body as he sinks into me again and again, his mouth capturing mine as he groans out my name.

“Dax, I…”

I can’t even get the words out as my second orgasm builds, spreading through my body in a wash of heat. The tight knot in my belly unfurls as pleasure explodes inside me, radiating through my blood. My nails dig into his shoulders as I arch upward, throwing my head back.

My heels dig into his ass as I writhe and grind on his cock, feeling the ridges rub against the most sensitive parts of my inner walls. I cling to his broad shoulders, and he looks down at me with satisfaction as he watches me fall apart beneath him.

“Is this the only cock that will ever make you come?” he demands, his voice rough.

“Yes,” I pant. “Only you. I’ll never want anyone else, Dax.”

When the last shudders of my release are finally wrung out of me, he begins to thrust again. This time, there’s a roughness to his movements that lets me know he’s on the verge of his own climax. That thought sends another ripple of pleasure through my exhausted body, and I whimper softly against his lips.

“Come inside me,” I whisper. “I need to feel you. I need to be sure this is real.”

He swells and hardens, his mouth crashing down atop mine to claim it once more as he sinks into me and groans deeply. The heat of his cum spills into me as his cock pulses, his forehead pressed against mine as our ragged breaths mingle.

“Ah—Zoey—so vrecking good…”

His hips rock against mine once more as he strains forward, his muscles rigid and body shuddering. Then he finally collapses on top of me, careful not to crush me under his weight. We lie like that for several long moments before Dax pulls out and rolls over, tugging me close against the curve of his body.

“My soul belongs to you, my suvi. And I will never, ever let you go,” he whispers against my ear.

His muscles flex as he holds me tightly to him, and I look up at the ceiling as I curl into the safety of his arms, smiling to myself.

I think back to that moment of doubt I had when I saw him escaping the brig, when I slipped onto the stolen ship after him and we flew out into the vast unknown of space. I wondered then if I was making the right choice by trusting my instincts, or if it was a terrible mistake.

But now I know the truth. I was right to trust myself. Right to trust in

him. Every step I took brought me here.

And this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

25 Dax

I STARE DOWN at the plate of food in front of me, confusion and suspicion mingling as I poke at one of the items there, a strange mash atop a piece of meat with a thick sauce flowing over it. The Zivonians around me have similar expressions on their faces, eyeing their platefuls of food with mingled curiosity and suspicion.

Zoey nudges me, chuckling lightly. “Try it, Dax,” she encourages. “I swear you’ll love it.”

It’s been twenty days since Zoey and I arrived back on The Oasis, and while I’m overjoyed to be free and with my mate, living among my own people once more, it’s been an adjustment. After five years spent locked away in a cell, going through the same routine every day and eating the same bland food that was pushed through the bars to me on a tray, true freedom is a bit of a shock. Now I can wake up and decide how I want to spend each day, filling my time as I choose.

Ryven will be deciding what my duties will be on board The Oasis soon, but he’s been kind enough to give me time to re-acclimate to life among my people first.

Without Zoey, I’m not sure how well I would have adjusted. In fact, without her, I’m not sure I would have found the courage to tell the truth at all.

But she’s been by my side the entire time, encouraging me and being patient, letting me have my moods and working through them with me. As I’ve learned to let go of the daily routine that I clung to for so long, she and I have come up with new things to do together, new routines, new ways to

surprise each other. I keep in mind what she told me while we were out in space together—how her life became so much more full and vibrant when she let go of the routines that made her days all blend together—and I’ve come to find out that she was right.

These days with her, all the new experiences that we’ve had together, and the pleasure and laughter that we’ve found in each other? They make every moment stand out so much more than when I was locked up, when every day felt the same as the one that came before. I feel fully alive for the first time in years, and I’m grateful that I have Zoey by my side to encourage me and share in this with me.

In the spirit of new experiences, I think grimly, turning my attention back to the plate in front of me, I suppose I really do have to try this.

I can feel Zoey watching me carefully as I take a bite of the mash and meat and sauce, readying myself for something terrible. But it tastes surprisingly good, a burst of flavors that I didn’t expect, and my mate grins brightly at the expression on my face.

The Terran women banded together today to make a feast for us, all of them attempting to make an approximation of foods that they enjoyed back on Terra, taking similar ingredients and preparing them in new ways to make them more familiar. As the Zivonians around me try the food themselves, I can see them grinning and nodding with surprise, and Kate teasingly elbows Ryven, who was one of the last to try his.

“See? It’s good,” I hear her say with a laugh as Ryven takes another bite.

Zoey is smiling too, and the other Terran women all seem equally pleased. It clearly means a lot to them to share this with us, to blend their culture with ours in a small way.

I’m glad.

These women all experienced something terrible, but my people have treated them with kindness and care, and our two groups are growing together.

Nothing can ever fully heal the wound left from what the Kruul did to us, what they took from us. It began with the fracturing of our culture into two and ended with the attack that destroyed so many of our people and killed our planet. But seeing this immersion with the Terran women, the way they’ve so happily acclimated to life on The Oasis and how the Zivonians have welcomed them, makes the wound sting less sharply.

We will always bear those scars, I think, looking around the room. But I think perhaps the old wounds are healing.

Zoey squeezes my hand, looking up at me with shining eyes, and I smile down at her beautiful face, made even more lovely by the scar that cuts across it. No one knows the truth of healing and scars as well as my mate. But that understanding has made us perfect for each other—two people damaged in body and soul who only see the best in one another.

“After trying this food, I think maybe Ryven should settle us on Terra,” Raza jokes, nudging me as he chuckles.

I laugh too, happy to be included in the banter, which happens more and more often now as my fellow Zivonians come to accept my presence among them again.

Many of them were understandably angry with Ryven’s decision at first, but as the whole story has come out and my explanation has been heard, nearly all of them have come around. Things have gotten better, easier, and I’m glad for it. I know that there will always be a few who have some suspicions, but all I can do is live as honestly as I can and know that I’ve told the truth, at last.

Over the past weeks, I’ve changed too. For so long, I missed out on so much, not only because of what Syrus did, but because of what I did, the mistake I made in accepting a blame that wasn’t mine to take. I let my pain, my refusal to accept what my brother did, blind me to the facts and harden my heart, and I shut everyone out.

But then Zoey came along. And she changed everything.

She reaches over, startling me out of my thoughts as she lifts a hand to wipe a crumb off my cheek. But instead, I turn toward her, wrapping my arm around her waist and cupping the back of her neck as I pull her soft, luscious mouth to mine.

“This meal is delicious,” I murmur in a low voice, my words meant only for her. “But I’ll never be as hungry for anything as I am for you.”

“Sweet talker.” Zoey grins against my lips, leaning into me and kissing me back without a care for who might be watching.

When we finally separate, her dark eyes are a bit glassy, her breath coming faster, and I feel a possessive surge of pride that I did that to her.

“Should I show you how starved I am for you when we get back to our cabin tonight?” I whisper.

She grins, the scar on her cheek stretching as her smile beams brightly. “I like the sound of that.”

Love like I’ve never known swells in my heart as the warmth of her smile washes over me.

I’m so grateful for her, for everything she did, for her patience and tenacity and enduring brightness. If she hadn’t seen past what Ryven and everyone else tried to convince her of, I would never have changed. I would never have found the courage to face the past and embrace whatever my future might hold, and I would have played the role I’d chosen for the rest of my life, locked away in the dark for a crime I didn’t commit. I would have been sad and lonely, empty until my death, forever branded a traitor.

Instead, I have a future as bright as Zoey is to look forward to, one filled with life and pleasure and laughter and hopefully children, a family and a home with her.

It feels like a dream, but it’s real. And it’s all because of her. The woman who brought my heart back to life.

Epilogue

DARCY

THE SUN IS bright and shining when I step out onto the curb just beyond our house, my younger sister Maya in tow, promising a perfect, if hot, day ahead.

But then again, the sun pretty much always shines in Los Angeles.

“I’m nervous,” Maya whispers as we climb into the ride share I called. “This job could be a really big deal if one of us books it.”

“Don’t be nervous.” I nudge her shoulder as I reach for my seatbelt. “You’ll do great. They’d be lucky to have you.”

“Maybe we’ll both book it,” she says hopefully, her eyes shining. Her left eye is blue, while her right eye is a vibrant green, unlike mine, which are both a mix of the two colors.

“Yeah, maybe,” I agree, trying to inject a bit of excitement into my voice. I double check the location we’re headed to, wanting to make sure that I put the right address into the ride share app.

I don’t really feel like going on this audition at all, to be honest. The grind of trying to make it as a model in LA has started to wear me down lately. Our mom roped us into this career when we were younger, trying to capitalize on our striking looks and the fact that although we’re not twins, we look very similar to one another.

She was the worst kind of stage mom, and as soon as we were old enough to support ourselves, Maya and I moved to our own place and cut her toxic behavior out of our lives. We’ve both kept up with modeling, doing some print jobs and a few commercials, and it’s helped pay the bills. But I’m definitely ready to move on to something else.

I just don’t know what yet.

Despite my waning interest in modeling, when Maya found the casting call for a potential runway show for a high-fashion designer that she loves, I agreed to come too—to keep an eye on her, if nothing else.

Out of the two of us, she’s always been the risk-taker, the more spontaneous one. It’s the privilege of being the younger sister, I guess. She was barely eighteen when we moved out of our mom’s house, so I’ve taken on the responsibility of making sure that Maya is safe and cared for, and that she doesn’t do anything too risky or dangerous in pursuit of her career.

About thirty minutes later, the driver drops us off outside a large building in a part of LA that I don’t know all that well.

“Do you think I should’ve worn my green skirt?” Maya asks, smoothing a few small creases out of her clothes as we climb out of the car. “I couldn’t decide between this one and that one.”

I shoot her a glance, then give her a reassuring smile. “No, I think what you picked is perfect.”

We walk inside the building and find a well-lit waiting area where at least two dozen other pretty young women are gathered in a group, all dressed and made up for the modeling call. They’re all waiting their turn to be called into the back for their audition just like we are, and I can see Maya shifting from foot to foot with nervous excitement as we join them.

She runs her hands through her light brown hair, fluffing the beachy waves a bit, then does the same for me, curling a few locks around her fingers until she’s satisfied with my appearance. Our hair is almost the exact same color, although mine is a bit shorter and has lots of blonde highlights from the sun. I’m grateful we’re past the days when our mom used to make us each keep our hair the exact same color and length as the other, as if she was trying to turn us into perfect replicas of each other.

As Maya finishes with my hair, a tall, lanky man with a clipboard steps through a door at one end of the room. All the girls lean forward in anticipation, waiting to see who he’ll call back next.

He points to about six of us, calling out, “You, you, you, and…you,” barely looking at each of us as he motions us forward.

I’m relieved that he calls both Maya and me back at the same time. I don’t really care about the job, and I’m not going to pull a page out of my mother’s book and try to sell us as a package deal. I just want to make sure this job is on the up and up. I’ve seen too many sketchy things happen at

casting calls not to be constantly wary, especially since Maya doesn’t always stop to think before she gets herself into a situation. She’s just the kind of excited, outgoing, hopeful girl that these older men prey on, and even though I’m only a few years older than her at twenty-five, it feels like it might as well be a decade sometimes.

But to be fair, I felt old when I was still a teenager. Maya calls me an old soul, but I think that’s just loving sister talk for “premature grouchy cat lady.”

“Come with me,” Clipboard Man says, jerking his chin and ushering us through a door that leads deeper into the building.

We all follow him as he begins to lead us down a long hallway, the girls jostling for position a bit, as if they’ll have any say in who he’ll pick to go into the casting room first.

When I cast a glance over at the guy, I notice that he seems nervous. His gaze darts back and forth a few times, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. I don’t see any other people back here, which makes it a bit eerily quiet, and as we continue to follow him, something twists in my gut. Maya has accused me more than once of being overly cautious, but something about this doesn’t feel right. I’ve been around enough predatory people in this business to notice red flags and to trust my instincts… and right now, my instincts are telling me that something is off.

“Maya,” I whisper, tugging on her arm to slow her steps. “I’m getting a weird vibe. I think we should skip this one.”

She looks at me, opening her mouth as if she’s about to argue. But then she closes it, sighing softly. I don’t pull the big sister card very often, and even though I’m a worrywart, I’ve never tried to hold her back from pursuing her career. So if I’m telling her now that I want to go, hopefully she can see that it’s because I really mean it.

I don’t know what it is about this place, but something about it gives me the creeps.

“Okay,” she whispers, her face falling a bit as she nods. “We can go.”

I consider telling the man leading us toward the casting room that we need to leave—making up an excuse of a sick cat or an oven we left on or something—but I decide against it. This is a cattle call audition, so it’s not like we had an appointment, and he looked like he didn’t really care too much either way which girls he brought back with him for the next round of

auditions. Hopefully, he won’t even notice if we just turn around and slip out the way we came in.

But just as I have that thought, the doors at the end of the hall where we entered close firmly with a loud click that suggests they’ve locked. My stomach flips, cold prickling along my skin as every instinct I have goes on high alert. I stop in my tracks as the girls around me come to a halt too, murmuring among themselves.

“Darcy?” Maya whispers. “What’s going—”

She breaks off suddenly, and I glance over at her. But she’s not looking at me. Instead, she’s staring toward another door set into the wall of the hallway Clipboard Man has been leading us down. The gangly man steps aside, his face turning slightly pale as the door opens wider.

And then I see what Maya is staring at.

Several strange looking creatures step forward, making their way through the door. My brain short circuits as I gape at them.

Are they aliens? No fucking way. They can’t be. Aliens aren’t real.

They’re wearing leather and canvas pants that look similar to something a mechanic might wear, along with loose shirts with the sleeves rolled up. None of them look exactly alike—whatever they are, they’re a mix of species, with two that look vaguely insect-like with clawed hands and antennae and clicking mandibles, one that looks vaguely bulldog-ish with green skin and a pug nose, and another that has a more humanoid face, with bulging muscles and nubbed horns coming out of his bald, painted skull. There are several more creatures behind those ones, but I don’t get a good look at them. My mind is too busy trying to process what I’ve already seen.

This is a nightmare. I’m dreaming. This isn’t possible.

This is straight out of a movie, and for a moment, I consider the wild possibility that this is part of the audition, and that these are just well-made- up extras.

But that can’t be right. This is a modeling call, not an acting call. We’re not here to audition for a part in a sci-fi movie. Unless… maybe it’s part of the fashion designer’s concept? Maybe whatever show he’s planning to put on will have a horror theme?

I cling to that as the only possible thing that makes sense as clipboard man opens his mouth to speak, his nervous voice piercing through my tangled thoughts as he addresses the strange creatures.

“I hope these are acceptable,” he says, his teeth chattering nervously.

The horned creature—alien?—steps forward and nods. He says something in a foreign language, and a cold chill sweeps down my spine again.

It’s all a show. It’s some made up language, like Klingon or Elvish. It’s just part of the casting.

But that’s not true. I know it isn’t, even as my logical mind tries to find some explanation for all of this.

The other aliens step forward, and one of them raises something that looks sort of like a sleek, bulbous gun. I barely get a glimpse at the shape of it before he raises it and fires at the girl closest to him. She claps a hand over her neck as something pierces her there, and her gasp of surprise turns to a groan as she sinks to the floor, unconscious.

Shit. Oh god, oh shit.

“We have to go. Now.” I hiss the words as I grab Maya’s hand, wrenching her away from the group of girls and starting to sprint down the hall toward the door. I know it’s locked, but maybe if we both throw ourselves against it as hard as we can, we can burst through. Maybe we can

—

A shout rises up behind us. I hear a soft, high-pitched sound, and Maya suddenly stops, practically dragging me to the ground with her as she falls.

“Maya, no!”

I grab her under the armpits, trying to keep dragging her toward the door. But another thwip sound cuts through the air, and something stings my neck. My heart lurches, and I raise my hand to feel a small raised lump where something has lodged inside my skin.

Immediately, blackness starts creeping in at the edges of my vision, my limbs going numb and losing strength. I fall to my knees, and then onto my side, barely feeling the floor when I hit it. Dimly, I can hear a voice in my head telling me that I was wrong. This isn’t part of the casting, and it’s not a nightmare. Somehow, in some horrible way, this is real. Aliens are real, and I failed.

I didn’t get my sister out in time.

I grope for Maya’s hand as the world spins around me in a gray haze, lacing my fingers with hers and clinging to them weakly.

Then everything fades to black.

“GOD, it’s fucking freezing in here,” I mutter.

Next to me, in a separate cage adjacent to mine, Maya is huddled against the wall, her face filthy and tear-streaked. I tried to stay with her, to keep her as close as possible, but I couldn’t force them to put us in the same cell. I got slapped across the face for my trouble, but I’d still try again if I could.

When we woke up from the drug that the aliens tranquilized us with, we were in a giant cage made of some kind of material I’ve never seen before, sleek and black. It was all like some kind of nightmare straight out of a science-fiction movie. Those same alien creatures who stepped into the hall at the audition came for us again, marching us down the corridor to a white room where some kind of chip was implanted into the base of our skulls, something that makes it possible for us to speak and understand their language.

It was coldly explained to us what would happen next—that we were captives on board a smugglers’ ship, and that we were being taken to a planet called Nierra to be sold as slaves. The clothes they dressed us in after stripping us naked out of what we’d been wearing made it very clear what kind of slaves we were meant to become. We were all given sheer garments that could barely be called slips, made of some kind of silky material and held up by thin straps.

As it turns out, Nierra is a planet covered in snow and ice, and no one thought to give us blankets in this fucking warehouse we’re being kept in as we wait for the auction where we’ll be sold.

“I miss LA. I miss sunshine. I miss Earth,” Maya whispers, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. We’re both shivering, our teeth chattering so hard I’m worried they might crack, and I wish I could at least hug her to keep her warm and offer some kind of comfort.

The door to the warehouse opens with a bang, making us both jump. Our heads snap up as a guard comes in, and my stomach drops as I realize he’s headed straight for our cells. Other guards walk to the small cells where more of the prisoners are kept, dressed in equally revealing clothes. Some of them are human girls, models who were at the same casting call we were and who were abducted with us, and a few others are alien women who must have been kidnapped from other planets.

After opening the doors to each of our cells, the guard hauls Maya and me up and shoves us into line. I stumble a little on weak legs, but I don’t

fight back. Even if I thought it would do any good and not get us killed immediately, I don’t have the strength for it. I’m too cold and too hungry, and I’m guessing that’s exactly why they’ve kept us in this state. It’s impossible to rebel when you can barely even stand.

“Darcy,” Maya whispers, fear tightening her voice. “I’m scared.” I swallow hard. “Me too.”

I know those aren’t very comforting words, and I try to think of something else I can say to reassure her, but before I get the chance, we’re shoved out into the frigid cold toward the auction stage.

“Keep moving, Terran.” The guard pushes me forward, prodding me hard in the back when I try to turn around.

I can hear my sister gasp behind me, whether from cold or fear, I’m not sure. But there’s nothing I can do as we’re both manhandled up the stairs, the guards not being shy about groping us as they push us into line for the waiting, eager audience.

My heart is in my throat, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, and my skin prickles with so many goose bumps that it’s painful.

As the auction begins, I try to step outside myself a little, to pretend this is all happening to someone else so that I can keep my wits about me and not fall into a complete panic. I gaze out at the crowd, staring at the gathered aliens and wondering who’ll be the one to buy me. They all look like monsters to me, even the ones who are physically attractive, just by virtue of the fact that they’re here to bid on living beings.

There’s a group close to the stage who are eyeing Maya and me in particular. They’re all extremely tall, muscular men with grooved markings over their noses and cheeks, dressed in tunics and tight pants with heavy fur cloaks. They’re gorgeous, more handsome than any movie stars I’ve ever seen, but I couldn’t care less. They’re here to buy people, to buy women to be slaves, and that makes me hate them.

“Those two,” the man in front of the group says, waving at Maya and me. “They look alike.”

“Ah, the ambassador from the Kruul.” The auctioneer looks pleased, and I wonder who the Kruul are. They must be rich, maybe, if the auctioneer likes them so much. “You have a question about these Terran women?”

“Yes,” the man says curtly, his dark eyes flicking to us. “Are they sisters?”

“They are,” the auctioneer confirms. “And quite beautiful, as you can see.”

The Kruul leader grunts, but as the auction starts, he places the highest bid on Maya and then begins to bid on me. It’s clear that he wants us as a set, and that makes me shudder, wondering what awful things he’s going to try to make us do. Nothing good is going to come from this, I’m sure of it.

But he clearly has deep pockets, because even when the price goes up, he wins me too. He looks thrilled as Maya and I are pulled down from the stage and handed over to him, a satisfied smile curling his lips as he looks us up and down.

He glances at the tall Kruul man next to him. “These Terran women are exceptionally beautiful,” he says, clearly very pleased with himself. “They’ll be the perfect spies to use against the Zivonians.”

My blood turns cold as a fur is thrown over each of us, and one of the Kruul pushes us toward the edge of the crowd. The robe ought to warm me, but I’m so chilled by his words that not even a blazing fire could help now.

Spies?

I have no idea what he means by that. And I really don’t want to find out.