“This is Major Stephens. Identify yourself.”

The voice crackling over the comm brought Jac’s head up sharply, and she scrambled from her seat on the floor to reach the console.

“Yes! Yes! I’m here! My name is Jac Wright. I’m on a ship called the Keris,” she gabbled. The name and rank were human, which meant a ship. A ship meant they could rescue her.

Relief flooded through her. It had been hours since she’d knocked Rynn out, but no one had answered her hail. And she had no clue how to fly an alien space ship.

“The Keris? That doesn’t sound like a Terran vessel…”

“No, no, it’s not.” She looked at the controls on the console, wondering which one activated the viewscreen so she could see Major Stephens… if his ship systems were even compatible with alien ones.

She didn’t recognize anything, though, and dared not press random buttons. For all she knew she could set them off flying into the nearest star. Lesson learned, never knock out the only person that could fly the damn ship.

“I was kidnapped by a Lathar and he’s taking me back to his planet.”

“Copy that. Have you gained control of the vessel?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded and then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes. I knocked him out. But he’s not waking up.” Her voice wavered with concern. “I think I might really have hurt him. I didn’t mean to. I only meant to knock him out so I could get away.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Major Stephens’ voice was firm. “We have medics on board who can treat him. Can you give me your location?”

“Oh, thank god for that. He’s breathing, and he has a pulse but he’s just not waking up.” She cast the fallen warrior a glance. Not that she wanted him to wake up right now. He’d be pissed and rightly so. She’d be pissed if someone had clocked her over the back of the head and tried to steal her ship. “I don’t know how to operate the ship. I just remembered how to open a communication channel because I saw him do it. There was a computer but it seems to have turned off or something.”

“No worries. Just stay on the line,” Stephens ordered, his voice warm and supportive. “We’ve got a lock on your location. Hang tight and we’ll come get yo—”

The end of his sentence broke off in a burst of static that made her wince. A bad line in space? She’d have thought they’d have gotten all that shit sorted out by now.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” she breathed not sure if he’d heard her.

It didn’t matter. Her message had gotten through. They knew where she was, and they were going to come get her. Tears prickled hot at the backs of her eyes and she drew a ragged breath. She should be relieved. Should be happy that she and Lizzie were going home. So why did the thought of never seeing Rynn again leave her with an ache in the center of her chest like the bottom had fallen out of her world?

She had no idea how long she stayed like that, curled up in the command chair doing her best not to cry. The comm remained silent apart from a few bursts of static, and she’d begun to worry that she’d imagined the whole thing… that Major Stephens was a figment of her imagination… when a metallic clunk reverberated through the ship.

Shooting to her feet, she looked toward the ramp in the middle of the floor. Shit, Rynn lay half across it. When it opened, he’d fall out. Scrambling forward, she hooked her hands under his arms to drag him out of the way. And failed miserably. He weighed an absolute ton.

“Damn… What do they feed you guys?” she grunted, readjusting her hold and using her legs to try and get some leverage. He didn’t move at first, but the more she grunted and pulled, he slowly began to slide over the metal deck. Sweat broke out down the center of her back and on her brow as she heaved. Finally, she got him out of the way, lying to one side of the ramp.

“Gnnnnnnhhh…” He moaned slightly, his eyes opening just as the ramp hissed and started to lower.

Jac squeaked and jumped back, putting as much distance as she could between them. If he came up swinging, she wanted to be well out of range. With a groan, he rolled over, holding a hand to the back of his head.

“What did you do, female?” he rasped, trying to get to his feet. He couldn’t get his balance, though, staggering and going to his hands and knees. His blue eyes, still a little unfocused, sought hers and she saw the anger and hurt there.

“I’m going home,” she told him, lifting her chin. Freedom was almost within reach, so why did she want to cry?

“That.” She pointed at the floor as the ramp lowered. “Is Major Stephens and his team. They’re coming to take me and Lizzie home.”

“This far out?” His eyes widened in alarm and he half staggered, half crawled toward the command console. “You stupid female! There are no Terran ships this far out. Whoever is coming up that ramp isn’t human!”

Before he made it to the console, huge figures clad in black leather swarmed through the ever-widening gap between the ramp and the floor. Jac was grabbed, the world becoming a chaotic jumble of shouts and hard hands. She tried to fight back, screaming as she got a glimpse of Rynn going down under a multitude of blows, but it was no good. Within seconds she was subdued and made to kneel. Her assailants stepped back as someone walked up the ramp. She sucked in a breath as she recognized him. Tall and heavily built with a scar over one side of his face.

It was the warrior who’d attacked them at Amanda’s house.

“You’re not Major Stephens,” she gasped, as Rynn was forced to his knees next to her, his hands tied in front of him.

“No,” he hissed. “This is Araal D’Corr. One of the dishonored. Good reconstruction job on the face, Araal. I barely recognized you. What did I hit you with? A tanaleth bolt or was it the dataran scythe? I never can remember.”

“Dishonored is a matter of perspective,” Araal sneered, hatred shining in his dark eyes. “I do not call preferring not to fuck an animal or have it bear my young dishonorable. And yes, it’s amazing how a new face allows a man to walk unnoticed, don’t you think?”

He was the polar opposite of Rynn, dark hair to blond, nearly black eyes to blue, and a vicious scar across his cheek that twisted one side of his face up into an awful grin. A shudder worked its way down Jac’s spine. This was the sort of warrior she’d feared claiming her whenever she’d thought about the Lathar. A cruel man who used brute strength and force to get his own way.

“No,” Rynn inclined his head as though conceding the point to his opponent. Even bloodied and on his knees, he had a poise and aura of command that was hard to miss. How had she ever thought he was human? “But the way you and your clan went about it was.”

“Fucking cattle needed culling,” Araal snapped, something dark moving in the backs of his eyes. “My father made the right call. They’re… abominations.” He looked Rynn up and down. “But you would feel sympathy for them, wouldn’t you? You’re one of them… oonat-born.”

He threw the last word like an insult, the men around them chuckling as though he’d scored a point somehow. Rynn didn’t react, not even by a flicker of an eyelid, but Jac felt the tension in the air around him. She wanted to reach for him but daren’t. The look he’d shot her before they’d been boarded had spoken volumes. Whatever trust they’d had was gone. Shattered beyond repair.

“You creatures make me sick,” Araal sneered, spitting on Rynn. The blond warrior didn’t move, not even to wipe the spittle from his cheek, but his blue eyes promised retribution.

Araal ignored him, turning his attention to Jac. “And these things are just as bad. Not. Lathar. No matter what that draanthic emperor says. He fucks the cattle anyway, so it’s no surprise he’s eager to switch out for something a little more appealing.”

Leaning down, he grabbed her jaw in a cruel grip, forcing her to look up at him. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t like what he saw, his lip curling up. “Disgusting. Daaynal must really be desperate if he expects us to breed with such pathetic creatures!”

Shoving her away, he watched without pity as she fell to the deck plating, stifling her cry of pain. “No matter, though, we won’t have to put up with your backward species for long. The new empire will rise and all non-Lathar will be wiped from existence.”

“Yeah?” Jac lifted an eyebrow as she clambered back up to her knees. “I’m no expert on your species but even we’ve heard about you lot on Earth. For a new empire, you’re going to need numbers, which means kids. And the last time I checked, most of you are lacking the necessary equipment for that.” She tilted her head curiously. “Unless of course, you’re really cult-like and your leaders haven’t explained the birds and the bees to you…”

“Silence!” Araal snarled. “I’ll hear no more of this idiotic prattle. Take them to the cells.”

They were screwed. Big time.

Fury simmered through Rynn’s veins as two of Araal’s men dragged him along the corridor toward the cells. He wasn’t an idiot. If D’Corr didn’t have plans for the pair of them, they’d already have been sucking cold, hard space. The details of those plans worried him.

But, they were alive and while they were, there was always a chance. So he kept his eyes open as they were dragged through the corridors. Looking for something, anything, that might prove useful later. You never knew when even the slightest little thing could make the difference in a life and death situation.

Not right now, though. Surrounded by D’Corr’s men and his head still fuzzy from Jac hitting him with the charge-prod, Rynn knew there was no way he was fighting them out. He was good, but not that good. Especially not with the combat bots he could see on standby in their alcoves as they passed. If by some miracle he managed to incapacitate the fifteen or so men around them, the bots would cut both him and Jac to ribbons within seconds.

Draanth. He just had to hope Keris came back online soon and realized what the hell had happened. As far as he could see, the fact that D’Corr had missed that the ship was AI controlled was the only ace they had up their sleeves.

Deliberately he slowed his steps, making the warriors dragging him really work for it. He was a big male, and an uncooperative body was the most difficult thing to handle. So he used that to his advantage. The warriors swore under their breaths, grumbling as they were forced to all but drag him along the corridor.

Eventually the male in the lead sighed and turned. Pulling out a pulse pistol, he aimed it directly at Jac’s head. “You might not care what happens to you, but I’m fairly sure you do care what happens to her. Now behave or I’ll blow her brains over the bulkheads. Be interesting to see what color Terran brains are. Do you think they’re the same color as ours?”

Rynn froze and then slowly stood up. He nodded to indicate he’d play along, his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage. Even though he was so angry he couldn’t even look at the human female directly, stark fear had filled him at the threat to her life. He wouldn’t allow her to be harmed. Couldn’t.

“Awww look,” one of the warriors behind him mocked. “He’s all concerned over his little pet.”

Rynn’s gaze didn’t waver from the eye lock he had going with the warrior in front of him as he moved suddenly, slamming his elbow up and backward. There was a satisfying crunch of bone and then a squeal of pain as blood splattered on the floor by Rynn’s boots.

“Quit fucking about!” the warrior in charge barked. “Joshad, go and get that nose sorted and for draanth’s sake don’t stand so close next time. You fucking idiot.”

Rynn chuckled to himself as they were hauled along corridors at a faster pace. Jac was forced to half run to keep up. Within minutes they’d reached the cells. The dankest, darkest place on any Latharian ship, they were always beneath the engineering level. Lighting was sporadic, and the facilities were barely maintained.

In fact, he noted as they were shoved into the nearest cell, the only thing that appeared to be even halfway new were the bars and locks. Blocky and high-tech, the locks were newer models and his heart sank. There would be no picking them from inside.

Snarling with frustration, he pulled his arm back and let fly, punching the metal of the wall heavily. His knuckles split, the sharp, hot bite of pain barely registering over his anger. Jac, huddled by the now-locked door, made a small sound of distress and he spun around, focusing in on her.

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered, her face pale. All the bravado she’d displayed before had disappeared and she seemed smaller than ever, her arms wrapped around her delicate frame. “I’m really sorr—”

He cut her off with a snarl. “Don’t. Just fucking don’t.”

She was out of her depth and scared to hell. He should go easy on her, but he couldn’t. Stalking forward, he pinned her with his gaze.

“Do you fucking realize what you’ve done?” he demanded, backing her up into the corner and slamming his hands into the walls on either side of her head.

“Forget for a moment that you assaulted me. A cowardly attack from behind.” His pride was still smarting about that one. He should have seen it coming. Really should have seen it coming. He was used to sleeping with one eye open and a dagger under his pillow. And a small weak female had gotten the drop on him. He didn’t deserve the title of shadow. But, in his defense, she’d attacked him after being all soft and willing. Goddess… he’d been ready to claim her. Lucky fucking escape.

She moved as though to reach out and touch him. He snarled in warning and her nerve failed her, the hand dropping away.

“Forget for a moment you just fucked my entire mission up… Did you ever stop to think that we could actually help Lady Jessica’s sister? That our medicine could work where Terran methods have failed? Hmmm? No,” he said with satisfaction as she paled even further. “No, you didn’t. Did you?”

Anger raged through him so intense that he didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead, he dropped his lips over hers and kissed her. Something to teach her a lesson. Something to punish her for rejecting him…

But the instant his lips touched hers, all thoughts of revenge or retribution fled. With a groan, he pulled her into his arms and the kiss became softer, deeper. Slanting his lips over hers, he swept his tongue against the closed seam. She opened for him and he filled her, sliding his tongue against hers. Teasing and tempting. Stroking and teasing.

She didn’t resist him. Instead, she settled into his arms as though she’d been created just for him. Clung to him as though he were her only salvation, the only thing that kept her grounded in the nightmare her life had become. Male pride filled him that even after trying to run, the instant he touched her, she turned to him. Sought his touch for comfort.

Heat exploded through him, his cock hard and heavy in his pants as he walked her backward and pressed her against the metal of the cell wall. He didn’t care where they were. None of D’Corr’s men would venture down here until ordered to and, thankfully, they were all purists. Not one of them would sully their perfect bloodlines by touching a human woman. And there were no cameras down here. He’d checked.

Which meant the little human female was at his mercy.

And she owed him.