Layla’s terror became full-blown panic as she was thrown up and down. After moving at a constant speed for what felt like forever, the pod jerked violently, shocking the hell out of her.

Thud. She lost her footing, slamming against the wall. Pain unlike anything she’d known before speared through the right side of her chest, making her gasp.

Yep, she’d landed on her broken rib. Layla’s vision darkened, and she saw stars.

Dazed and in agony, she scrambled around on the floor, trying to find something to hold onto as she was tossed around like a ragdoll in the cramped storage unit.

A half-open canister of Nutricubes—those disgusting ultra-high calorie food bars that tasted like a mixture of chocolate and seaweed—fell onto the floor, spilling its contents. Layla ran into the wall, putting her hands out to break the impact.

“Ow!” She hissed. There it was again, that pain in her right side. Layla tried to ignore it, but it felt like someone had shoved a knife in her chest and was constantly twisting.

She dropped to her knees, snagging a stray cabin-jacket that had fallen to the floor. Folding it and pressing it against her injured side in an attempt to minimize further damage, she curled up into the fetal position, tucking her head in.

Layla braced herself…

And then everything went still.

Still and perfectly quiet.

After all that commotion, the silence was deafening.

Terrifying.

What the hell just happened? With no way to see outside, she couldn’t tell whether she was still floating in space, or whether the small escape pod had been swallowed up by a much bigger craft.

If the exploration drones were anything to go by, she’d probably been pulled into the belly of some monstrous vessel.

Layla’s throat went dry, her heart beating so fast she could barely feel it anymore. She’d never been so fucking scared in her entire life. She hadn’t been this scared even when that asshole Damien had wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed, his blue eyes hard with rage.

The night he’d almost killed her.

Fucking asshole.

A slow, rhythmic scraping sound reached her ears, filtering through the solid metal walls of the pod.

They’re coming for you.

Layla froze, trying to remember what Enki had told her.

Don’t fight back. They’ll kill you.

So what the hell was she supposed to do? Try and hide? She’d been scanned. They knew she was in here. They probably knew a lot more about her than she realized.

Not knowing what else to do, Layla tugged on the oversized jacket, zipping it all the way up. Her feet were bare, her legs encased in the strange thermoregulating fabric of the cryo-suit. It wasn’t the most appropriate outfit for getting abducted in, but she didn’t have much choice. With a gentle tap of her finger, she was able to open the storage compartments. She stuffed the inner pockets of her jacket with Nutricubes and searched around for anything that might be remotely useful.

Her fingers curled around a small but powerful guide-light. Layla undid her zipper a fraction and slipped the slender object between her breasts. To her surprise, a utility knife lay at the back of the compartment. She grabbed it and stashed it at the small of her back, slipping it beneath the waistband of her tights, where it was hidden beneath her jacket.

Perhaps her captors would easily restrain her and take the items off her, but just doing something made Layla feel a little less terrified.

A little bit in control of an impossible situation.

The scraping noise grew louder. Screech! The sound of metal on metal grated in her ears, sending an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

Footsteps.

They were in!

Voices. Deep, harsh, male voices, speaking a language she’d never heard before. Someone snapped commands in a distinctly military tone. Someone replied in the affirmative.

Enemies, Enki had called them.

The only thing that stopped Layla from freezing in fear was the thought that he was coming for her.

When he’d said it in that ice-cold-yet-gentle way—almost as if he understood her predicament—she’d believed him.

And based on what she’d heard, Kordolians were not to be taken lightly.

He’s coming.

She had to believe it.

With nothing left to do but wait, Layla shoved her hands in her pockets and stood with her bare feet slightly apart. She tipped her head from side to side, loosening her stiff neck, and took a deep breath.

It hurt to breathe, but she ignored the pain, staring at the door with a clear, steady gaze.

Any second now…

Swish. The door to the storage compartment slid open.

“Shit.” Layla swore under her breath as half a dozen males appeared before her, crowding the narrow escape pod.

She took a step backward.

Six pairs of eyes focused on her. Eyes that were shades of sunset and fire, from golden to deepest red.

Six grim faces stared at her, sharp-featured and mean looking, their silver skin luminous under the bright cabin lights.

Pointed ears curved past cropped white hair.

Severe black military uniforms encased tall, powerful bodies. They wore high-necked jackets, black trousers, and black boots. The only embellishment was a series of silver characters embroidered at the collar. Layla recognized something that looked like a symbol of an eye, but apart from that, it was all very mysterious.

Of course, they were all armed to the teeth. Guns, blades, swords, and several devices Layla couldn’t quite identify were secured to their bodies.

Don’t fight back.

Now it made sense. Against a group of heavily armed Kordolians, she didn’t stand a chance.

Layla had seen them on the Network footage, but she’d never been up close and personal with one, let alone six, and these particular aliens didn’t look very fucking friendly.

They were even more intimidating in real life.

These guys were Enki’s enemies?

Kordolians against Kordolians. What the hell was going on?

One of the soldiers stepped forward, dissecting her with a hard crimson stare. The symbols on his collar were embroidered in blood red instead of silver, denoting some sort of rank, and he looked slightly older than the others. His pale hair was peppered with grey, and there were fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

In her mind, Layla labelled him the Sergeant, because he looked like he was in charge of this particular squad.

“Do you speak Universal?” His voice was devoid of any emotion.

Layla thought hard for a moment. Pretend you don’t understand. It took all of her willpower to school her expression into one of confusion. She stared straight ahead, blinking furiously. “Who are you?” she asked in her mother’s language, knowing perfectly well he couldn’t understand her. “What is this place?”

It was one small way she could ensure they didn’t have complete control over her. At the very least, playing dumb might buy her some time, might make things a little more difficult for these Kordolians until Enki arrived.

But how the hell is he going to breach their defenses? What if he isn’t coming? What if this is your shitty fate?

Layla crushed her paralyzing doubts before they spiraled into full-blown catastrophe.

He’s coming.

It was crazy. She didn’t even know the man, but she had to believe him. It was the only way she could do this.

The Kordolian’s eyes narrowed and he inclined his head, one corner of his mouth curling upward to reveal a sharp, gleaming fang.

Holy hell. She hadn’t been able to appreciate that small detail on the Network vision. Layla stood perfectly still, hoping her face conveyed a perfect mixture of fear, naivety, and confusion.

He walked forward slowly, his boots echoing hollowly on the metal floor. Coming to a stop just inches before her, he stood so close she became acutely aware of his size and potential for violence.

Layla was pretty sure all those weapons he carried around weren’t just for showing off.

The thought of her fighting back physically was almost laughable.

I’m screwed.

Six big, powerful Kordolians stood between her and whatever lay beyond the walls of her pod, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to know what was out there.

The Sergeant raised his hand, and Layla drew on every ounce of her self-control to remain still and not flinch.

Her reaction was instinctive. She’d been on the receiving end of violence before, at the hands of a man who was much bigger than her.

Forget about that. You can do this.

Those were just bad memories now. She’d escaped all that—survived—and somehow she’d ended up here.

Layla was stronger than she looked.

To her surprise, the Sergeant didn’t grab her or hit her. He just hooked his finger under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing Layla to meet his gaze.

What she saw in his red eyes scared her, a lot.

He regarded her the way one might look at an insect—with complete and utter indifference. He could crush her under his boot at any moment and he wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

Creepy bastard.

The Sergeant’s grey lips curved into a smile that failed to reach his eyes. He uttered a soft command to his men as he released her, taking a step back.

Two soldiers stepped forward. One of them held something in his hands—a device of some sort.

As they moved toward her, frantic thoughts flashed through Layla’s mind. She could try and make a run for it, but where the hell would she go? She could pull the knife at her back and try to defend herself, but these guys would easily make mincemeat out of her… they could even kill her. She could scream her head off and cause a hell of a commotion, but that would be pointless and stupid, and it would just piss them off.

Besides, they moved so damn fast, and she had no chance to react as a large, rough hand encircled the back of her neck and applied a cruel amount of pressure.

“Voruk,” he said softly, pushing her down.

Layla got an inkling of what he wanted her to do.

Are you fucking serious? Unable to help herself, she looked into his golden eyes, questioning the command. A chill spread through her, and it wasn’t just because the air flowing in from outside was fucking cold.

No, it was because she suddenly recalled something about Kordolians enslaving just about every other damn race they came into contact with. That meant she really was nothing more than an insect to them.

Right now, they outmatched her in every possible way—in numbers, weapons, power—and they wanted her to accept her fate through one simple gesture.

“Voruk!” Now it was a whipcrack of a command, harsh and laced with the promise of pain.

Layla could guess the meaning of the word.

Kneel.

If this is what ordinary Kordolians were like, then who the fuck was Enki, and why were they his enemies?

She was tempted to drop his name just to see if they would react, but she didn’t want to give them any warning he was coming, so she kept quiet.

“Ugh!” Suddenly, excruciating pain shot through one of her ankles. Caught off balance, Layla collapsed to the floor, landing on all fours with a heavy thud.

The soldiers laughed.

Bastards! One of them had kicked her foot out from under her, his boot smashing into the bony part of her ankle. Pain shot through her ankle and her injured rib, bringing tears to her eyes. Her breaths came out as great choked sobs.

Something closed around her neck, something hard and cold and tight, momentarily restricting her breathing. Layla’s vision dimmed. She almost blacked out.

Soft laughter echoed around her, and Layla decided then and there that she hated Kordolians.

The hard device dug into her neck, and she realized it was something utterly abominable.

A collar!

“Shuk!” The Sergeant turned around, crooking his finger. The meaning was clear. Come. That same cruel half-smile played across his lips, making her feel as if he’d done this sort of thing a thousand times before, making Layla hate him even more.

Despite the her complete lack of power, despite the obvious risks to herself, Layla just couldn’t bring herself to obey.

Strong hands hooked beneath her arms, and Layla was hauled to her feet.

The Sergeant waited expectantly. He gestured toward her again. Come.

Knowing he had complete control over her.

Toying with her.

Several of the soldiers laughed.

Layla had just spent the last few weeks, months, whatever, drifting through empty space in a defective escape-pod, knowing the dead bodies of her fellow passengers were in the destroyed ship alongside her.

She’d come to terms with her mortality, spent hours upon hours listening to the deathly silence, and had almost gone mad wondering if she was doomed to slowly eat through eight years worth of disgusting Nutricubes until she was left with nothing.

No food, no communication, no hope.

Until the mysterious Enki caught her singing.

Layla straightened and stared at the Sergeant, refusing to play into their little game. Yes, she was scared, and maybe she was acting stupid, but she was a little bit unstable right now, and she just couldn’t get it into her head that she was supposed to be inferior to these callous silver assholes.

It was maddening, not knowing what they wanted with her, although Layla could hazard a guess.

“Who shoved the stick up your ass?” she asked softly in Eskulin, another of the languages she spoke. “I really hope my boy turns out to be someone who can do you folk a lot of damage, because that would be insanely satisfying.”

“Tch.” The Sergeant shook his head in a disapproving manner and uttered a soft command.

And suddenly Layla’s world was doused in a haze of agony.

Pain shot around her neck, digging vicious claws into the column of her spine. Pain ran down her back, turning her legs to jelly. Pain tore across her scalp, her face, her eyes, turning her vision white.

She’d thought the pain in her ribs and ankle was bad, but this…

This was the worst thing she’d ever experienced in her life.

A punishment for her mild disobedience.

Please stop.

She just wanted it to stop, but she would never, ever beg.

“Voruk.” This time, the Sergeant’s command was deceptively gentle; almost a caress. It was as if he were taunting her, donning a mask of restraint while the most excruciating pain rocketed through her body.

Now it just felt like she was taking a bath in fire and being flayed alive at the same time. What kind of sadistic, depraved, degenerate mind had come up with this awful, awful device?

A Kordolian mind, obviously.

Enki, I hope you’re real and not just a figment of my imagination, and I really, really hope you don’t get off on this kind of shit.

Somehow, Layla was still on her feet, but she’d reached the very limits of her endurance.

She couldn’t take this anymore.

Make it stop. Makeitstopmakeitstop!

She swayed. Closed her eyes. Tried to remember what she was supposed to do.

Voruk.

Kneel.

She dropped to her knees, gasping.

In a flash, the pain disappeared, leaving her nerve endings raw and tingling, the memory of impossible agony freshly imprinted on her mind.

Already, a scar was forming.

She didn’t want to go through that again.

Holy shit. If this was how Kordolians controlled their slaves, then she wasn’t going to last long.

Once again, she was hauled to her feet. Once again, she met the Sergeant’s gaze. He said something in that strange, lyrical tongue of his, and from his tone, Layla interpreted his words to mean something like “now you know what we can do to you, so you had better obey, or else.”

And now she understood why Enki had told her to endure.

These Kordolians were fucking nuts.

The problem was, Layla didn’t know how much more of this she could take before she was pushed to breaking point.

Given everything that had happened to her, she feared it wouldn’t take much at all.