A monster sat across from her in a high-backed chair, watching her with cold golden eyes. It had taken her a while to notice him, because he didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t say a word. He could have been made of stone for all she knew.

Except that something flickered over his eyes; a clear membrane much like a lizard’s third eyelid.

She shuddered, even as she took the chance to really look at her captor for the first time.

She’d caught brief glimpses his kind before, on the doomed ship called the Hythra. A silver-skinned monster just like him had appeared and fought viciously against the Corrupted, the zombie-like creatures that had materialized in the bowels of the cursed ship.

Later, she’d learned that the monster was Calexa’s Ares, momentarily transformed by the sentient ship into something utterly alien, utterly terrifying.

But no, this monster was different.

He was a study in warm shades of white and gold. His pupils were narrow slits, his irises perfect amber, and his pale wings—pearlescent, cream-colored, dazzling—were folded behind him, extending into a special recess that was carved into the chair.

Beautiful, and yet he was harder, colder, and more terrifying than the other. Crystalline.

Was he a celestial thing… a god of some sort?

Don’t be ridiculous. He’s no god. He’s just an alien.

A feeling of horror coursed through her as she remembered the chilling sensation of his fingers on the back of her neck. It was almost as if he’d been a dead thing, sucking the life right out of her.

Esania got the feeling this creature had been around for a very long time, and there was no doubt in her mind that he was dangerous.

He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

How eerie.

His almost-white skin glittered like the gemstones on the roof, and as Esania studied him closely, she realized that what she’d thought was smooth skin was actually made up of tiny shimmering scales. A shadow fell across the room then—a passing cloud, perhaps—and the light streaming in from above turned dim. For a moment, his scales took on an amethyst hue, as if his true skin were purple underneath all those glittering scales.

Then the sunlight broke through again, illuminating his hard face.

Mesmerizing her just a little bit.

Esania was not a superstitious person—she was Primean, after all—but in that instant, she could very well believe in gods and monsters and demons, because the creature, man, thing standing before her looked like he came from the depths of Earth’s imaginary hell.

Not heaven, because things that dwelled in heaven supposedly didn’t have scales and claw-tipped wings and ice-cold hands that could suck the life right out of you.

As she stared at him, a flicker of a smile appeared at one corner of his mouth. It was the only sign of life in his mask-like face.

Smiling? After he’d captured her? After he’d taken her energy without even asking?

She felt violated somehow.

“You bastard…” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.

The alien’s smile grew wider, revealing long, pointed teeth. There was no warmth in that smile. Rather, it was dipped in arrogance and laced with cruelty.

And limned with just a touch of dark amusement.

Fear kicked in and sealed Esania’s lips shut. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her mouth went dry. She’d never been this afraid in her life, not even when Kivik had sent his death squad to her door.

In the Serakhine, she’d had power.

Here, she was nothing.

And a monster sat across from her, and she knew nothing about him or his world. Her heart sank as she glanced at the solid double doors. It was pointless to even think of trying to escape. So what if she managed to get past this strange creature? She had no idea what lay in wait for her outside. How far away was she from Calexa and the Vradhu pack? Even if she got past the walls of this place, there was no way she survive out there in the wilds of Khira with only her limited knowledge of the terrain and its flora and fauna.

Trapped by walls.

Trapped by nature.

Angry but powerless.

Afraid.

“Misurash.” His voice shocked the hell out of her when he finally spoke. It was a deep baritone; smooth and decadent a little bit cultured.

He was dressed now, wearing a simple black sleeveless tunic that revealed bare white arms rippling with corded muscle. The garment contrasted deeply with his golden hair, which cascaded over his shoulders; a lustrous untamed mane.

He raised his hand, which was covered by a black glove, and made an imperious gesture. They might not share the same language, but the meaning was obvious. Stay there.

Esania bristled. Nobody told her what to do, ever. In the Serakhine, she’d been a freewoman, a senator with a near-perfect integration score. She answered only to Primean law. Her law.

I am not going to let this creature assume superiority over me.

“What do you want from me?” She spoke Primean, forcing herself to sound cool and composed, knowing very well that he couldn’t understand a word she said.

Abruptly, he stood, his eyes never leaving her face. His wings shifted slightly but remained folded against his back. He was barefoot. He had three toes. He moved silently, fluidly, with the grace of a natural predator.

Esania rose to her knees, intending to get out of the bed. The raised wing-edges made it so hard to get out from the sides, so she would have to exit from the foot of the bed. Seriously, who designed such a ridiculous thing? As she navigated across the soft surface, she desperately tried to hide the fact that her legs were trembling. She was barefoot too, her boots nowhere to be seen. Had he taken them off while she slept? Why did she find that thought so unnerving?

At least she still wore her tunic and thermal undersuit, although she had no way of knowing if he might have removed them at some point too.

As she straightened in indignation, her vision grew dim. She swayed on her knees. Why was she so damn weak? It was maddening.

“Attu misurash,” he growled, a whipcrack of a command.

Stay?

Huh. As if she were a trained pet.

This is crazy. This can’t be happening to me!

Panic kicked down the doors of her composure. Sweat broke out on her face. She started to hyperventilate, becoming lightheaded, and suddenly, she was on the verge of blacking out. The dazzling ceiling played tricks with her mind as her knees threatened to give way.

Crap. She didn’t want to show weakness in front of her captor, but her body betrayed her.

She swayed.

He moved, pale wings flashing.

Whoosh.

Suddenly, he was on his knees before her… on the bed! Strong hands curled around her upper arms, preventing her from falling. She was glad he wore gloves, because the last things she wanted was to feel his icy fingers against her bare skin.

Maybe that was why he wore the gloves; to avoid draining her energy. Could it be that he was actually trying to be considerate of her, or was she just a commodity, to be taken care of because she served some purpose?

Esania shuddered.

His fingers hurt as they into her flesh, as if he didn’t know that holding her so tightly would cause her discomfort.

He didn’t know anything about her kind at all, did he?

Unable to break out of his iron grip, she had no choice but to look up, meeting his eyes. A faint golden glow suffused his gaze, hinting at untapped power.

Only now, up close, did she really get a sense of how massive he was. His broad, muscular chest stretched the dark fabric of his shirt. The muscles in his arms flexed, and she got the sense he could break her in two if he really wanted to.

Hadn’t he been seriously wounded by the Vradhu earlier? Where was the evidence of those injuries now?

She caught a tendril of his scent. Musk, spice, and something else she couldn’t identify. To her surprise, he radiated warmth.

Suddenly, he seemed very much alive, and the way he looked at her…

Such intense curiosity, but there was also a certain arrogance in his expression, as if to say: I own you now. You have no power here.

A chill settled in the pit of her stomach. What was the expression her human servants used?

You’re totally screwed.

Before Esania could respond, he leaned forward until their faces were almost touching and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

What is this?

Was he trembling?

Esania stiffened. He was doing that thing again. She could feel it. The bastard was actually draining her energy just by being close to her. He was a black hole, a living vortex, sucking the life right out of her.

A vampiric, reptilian alien.

If he was a black hole, then she was the stars.

“Stop it,” she whispered. She searched for a word, any word, and faintly recalled something Calexa said to the Vradhu in that horrible sounding language— Naaga. “Bogu.” Stop.

“Ah.” He exhaled and froze, tipping his head back so the light gilded his dazzling face. To her relief, their lips were no longer almost touching. His eyes opened slowly, and maybe it was just her imagination, but the golden glow of his irises seemed just a little more intense.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, trying to wrench herself out of his grasp. “Let me go.”

He refused.

“Attu misurash,” he growled, impatience creeping into his voice. Slowly, he lowered her, and Esania had no choice but to go with him, because her legs felt like jelly, and she was on the verge of blacking out.

As soon as she was comfortably seated on the mattress, he let go. Esania rocked backward, propping herself up on her elbows, gaping at the creature. Almost instantly, she started to feel better, her vision clearing as her body recovered from the effort of standing. The alien remained on his knees. He looked down at her, a slight frown disturbing his pale mouth.

Now he looked perplexed.

“What do you want?” Esania couldn’t help it. Fear, frustration, indignation—all of it seeped into in her voice.

She hadn’t come all this way with her entire human retinue just to end up dead in some strange alien’s chambers. Theoretically, the women didn’t need her protection anymore—they were as far from the Serakhine and its death squads as they could ever hope to get—but she still felt responsible for her people, especially Sara, who had suffered the most.

Opinionated but good-hearted Sara, who carried Kivik’s child.

How far along was she now? Around four months? Esania had to make it back to the Vradhu settlement to witness the child’s birth, to make sure everything went to plan, to make sure Sara had all the help she needed.

To make sure she was safe.

If only she could communicate with this alien and somehow convince him to let her go.

Stars, this was so frustrating.

“Don’t touch me,” she blurted in her native tongue as she held her hands up in front of her, defensively crossing her arms and desperately hoping he could understand her gestures, her tone. “Just don’t. Please. Bogu!”

To her surprise, the alien raised his gloved hands and showed her his palms, attempting to placate her. I’m not going to touch you.

Huh. That was progress, of sorts.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, unmoving, unblinking.

I need to communicate with him… somehow.

This was her chance to test him, to see what his true intentions were.

Esania took a deep breath and put her hand to her mouth. She made a scooping motion with her fingers and gestured toward her mouth.

Food. Water. She desperately needed to get something in her belly.

In truth, she was parched. Starving. Lightheaded.

Maybe that was why she felt so weak.

“Food!” She made a fist and pretended to chew on it as if it were a chicken leg. He had the sharp teeth of a predator. Did he not chew things from time to time? Or else what were those menacing looking teeth for?

The creature’s golden brows drew together in a frown.

“My species needs to eat and drink,” she said slowly, patting her stomach. “Just like the Vradhu.” He had to understand that word, right? She faintly recalled him exchanging barbs with Ares in the melodic Vradhu tongue. In fact, he looked rather similar to a Vradhu. He had same powerful warrior’s frame; tall, broad, and rippling with corded muscle. Even his facial features bore an uncanny resemblance to the Vradhu. He possessed the same slanted eyes, broad nose, and full, sensual lips.

But there was one major difference. He didn’t have a tail.

The alien narrowed his eyes. “Vradhu?” He pointed at her. “Antu?” He chuckled, then shook his head. “Tey Vradhu.”

“Of course I’m not Vradhu, but I need to eat, and I’m getting tired of repeating myself.” Esania shook her head, her frustration growing. Her stomach growled in protest. Her dry throat begged for water. She didn’t know the Naaga words for food or water. How frustrating.

The alien rose to his feet, shaking his head. To Esania’s disappointment, he gave her a cold look then stepped up off the bed, turning his back on her. At a loss, she stared at his back, at the elegant lines of his folded wings as he started to walk away.

“You can’t leave,” she pleaded, something she’d never done before in her life. “Wait, don’t go.”

Fuck.

She never swore, either.

Esania needed to catch his attention, even if it meant grabbing him by the arm—putting herself at risk. She tried to rise to her feet again. The alien looked over his shoulder and shot her a stern look.

“Misurash,” he snapped.

Stay.

This time, his voice was laced with an unmistakable warning.

She’d never heard this tone from him before; it was cold and desolate and utterly frightening.

She froze, becoming acutely aware of the fact that this alien could easily kill her.

He strode across to the massive doors and pressed his palm against them, his movements powerful and deliberate. Everything about him radiated power; the way he walked, the way he spoke, the way he looked at her.

The doors swung open and the alien disappeared, leaving Esania alone on a strange bed in a decadent, light-filled room, feeling so weak she could barely lift a finger.

Thoughts of escape and survival flitted through her mind, but once again, her body betrayed her, and she closed her eyes as she collapsed into the bed.

So tired.

I’ll just close my eyes… just for a moment…

Suddenly, she was helpless against the powerful lull of sleep.

Sleep was an escape from this frightening new world, where being Primean meant nothing at all, and deadly creatures stalked the earth and reigned in the skies.

But like most things, sleep was only temporary.