“Get back!” Calexa yelled in Naaga, running toward the center of the chaos.

The vast floor of the hold had become a battlefield. Limbs flew, heads rolled, and occasionally, a Vradhu warrior would grunt in pain as deformed silver claws penetrated thick armor-hide.

It still boggled her mind that their blood was as red as that of a human’s. It was everywhere, and yet their injuries didn’t seem to slow them at all.

The Vradhu were too caught up in the fight to pay her much attention. For a split-second, Calexa allowed herself to become entranced by their fighting style.

How spectacularly distracting they all were.

Holding their long blade-tipped spears in front of them, the warriors danced around the zombies, becoming purple-and-black whirlwinds as they used their superior reach to keep the creatures at bay.

They were graceful and perfectly poised.

Made for the hunt.

Occasionally, a black tail would whip out, coiling around a neck or torso or limb. Stars, those tails were powerful. Calexa reminded herself that she should never get in the way of a Vradhu’s tail.

Another Naaga head flew across the room.

“Get back!” she roared, running toward the fray, waving her swords above her head to attract their attention. “Or you’re gonna get burned! We’re going to fire, and you’ve seen what that thing can do.”

Mai’s cannon-fire had been surprisingly effective against the abominable things. It only made sense that they blast the Naaga again and try and take out as many as possible.

“Last warning,” Calexa shouted, her voice becoming hoarse. Mai hefted her cannon onto her shoulder and stood with her feet wide apart in the classic firing stance.

The Vradhu scattered. The Corrupted were slow to realize where their enemies had gone, but as they turned, following their opponents with blank stares, they tensed, preparing to shoot forward.

Calexa was starting to understand how they moved. Mostly, they lurched around like zombies, but they were capable of exploding into short, sharp, and devastatingly fast bursts of movement.

She scanned the field. All clear… for now. There was no time to lose. She motioned to Mai. Fire.

A bolt of white-hot Irradium lit up the hold like a flash of lightning, cutting right through the swarm of Corrupted. Those closest to the center of the blast were vaporized.

Several of the Vradhu stared at them with grim expressions, the striking markings on their faces making them oh-so hard to read. Without hesitation, they jumped back into the fray, not even waiting for the smoke to clear as they rushed in to hack at the fallen Corrupted—those that hadn’t been completely torched.

They hadn’t seemed entirely happy with Mai’s cannon-blast. The looks they’d given Calexa and her crew had almost seemed… hostile.

A sliver of doubt wormed its way into her mind. What if Zahra was right? What if they were a threat? Was it too dangerous to let them onto a ship crammed with forty defenseless human women and their Primean mother-hen?

When Maki appeared in the distance with his clansmen, Calexa felt strangely relieved. He seemed to be one of the more reasonable ones. The bare-chested Vradhu whipped out his tail and wrapped it around the neck of a stray Corrupted, immobilizing the creature as he impaled it on his spear. He kicked the creature to the floor, removed his blade from its chest and promptly sliced through a slender blue neck.

Swift and merciless. Just like the rest of them. The absence of armor didn’t seem to hamper him. He strode across the hold, guarding the three clansmen who walked behind him.

In their arms were the bodies of the fallen Vradhu warriors. The third Vradhu carried the long metal bone-canister thing.

They seemed hell-bent on returning their brothers home.

Maki lifted an arm, pointing toward the Medusa. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Are we coming? That’s what he was saying. He must have spoken with Ares.

Her comm crackled. “Cal, I don’t know if letting them onboard is such a good idea.” That was Zahra; forever cautious, always the voice of reason.

She was the counterpoint to Calexa’s impulsivity and fierce temper. She was the brakes on Mai’s gung-ho attitude in the face of danger. She was the antidote to Raphael and Monroe’s Primean weirdness.

Calexa would usually heed Zahra’s advice, but this time, she knew things that Zahra didn’t, and she had a decision to make. After all, it was her ship, and whoever owned the ship made the rules.

“Make room in the cargo hold,” she snapped. “We’re taking each and every one of those Vradhu boys with us.”

“You sure?”

Just like when she’d saved Ares’s life, she followed the feeling in her gut. Come on, she gestured, meeting Maki’s gaze through the swirling chaos around them. Bringing the Vradhu closer had another advantage; they could form a ring of defense around the Medusa.

These Vradhu might still be an unknown quantity, but Calexa and her crew needed all the help they could get.

Maki ran through the shifting minefield of grotesque bodies, becoming a purple-and-black blur as he dodged and stabbed and hacked at the remaining Corrupted with startling grace, his comrades following close behind. Where Ares was all fierce, unstoppable power, Maki was fluid and supple, like a dancer.

She got the sense he was one of those enviable people who moved through life with effortless grace.

“Where’s Ares?” she demanded as the bare-chested Vradhu reached her side. Although he was magnificently exposed, his powerful body a study in chiseled perfection, his exotic appearance didn’t do anything for her; he didn’t provoke that same heady, toe-curling feeling she got when Ares was around.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the warrior-chief drawled, glancing up at the Medusa. “Last time we spoke, you were refusing to hand over his body-double.”

“Ares’s body is safe,” Calexa snapped. “Now where is he?”

“Coming,” Maki raised his eyebrows, sounding completely unconcerned. “He’s just eradicating some vermin in the corridor.”

Relief surged through her.

Maki shrugged. “What, you think a few metal-brained Naaga can stop our khefe? He is thrice-blooded. When you see a kratok for the first time, you will understand. He takes them down singlehandedly.”

Kratok. That was what Ares had fed her. She shuddered.

Calexa studied Maki carefully, trying to read him. She couldn’t. Maybe it was because of the strange, tattoo-like markings on his face, or maybe it was because he seemed too damn relaxed about what was going on behind them.

Aliens. She snorted under her breath. At least the ones in the Fiveways came with cultural reference manuals. These Vradhu were a completely unknown quantity, and she didn’t like the way some of them looked at her girls. “If we manage to get off this insane death-trap, I need to know that your men won’t pose any threat to my people.”

“We would not.” He seemed offended. That was… reassuring.

“And once we land on your planet, you will guarantee our safety.”

“That is the least we could do for a makivari. Because Ares has marked you as such, you are, by extension, under our protection, as are your people.” Maki dodged to one side as a severed blue-and-silver hand came flying in his direction, narrowly missing his head. How he’d sensed it, she had no idea.

Did these Vradhu have eyes in the backs of their heads?

“You people keep calling me that,” Calexa blurted, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly does it mean?”

“Oh, He didn’t tell you? In Vradhu, the word makivari means honored protector. It means you saved his life, and he owes you a blood-debt. Congratulations, female-who-fights. You have won yourself the loyalty of the most powerful Hunter in the Two Clans. Do not take it lightly, because amongst our people, you are now virtually untouchable.”

Lost for words, Calexa shook her head. That bloody Ares hadn’t explained any of this to her. To think that her split-second decision to stay behind and save his ass would have such far-reaching implications…

A pleasant sensation crawled over her shorn scalp. She rather liked the idea that Ares felt he had some sort of mortal duty to protect her.

No male had ever done such a thing for her before.

She hadn’t let them.

She wouldn’t let them, because she could hold her own.

But if it was Ares, it was different. He had a hold on her now, and she couldn’t get him out of her head.

Honorable, fierce, and as straight and true as an arrow, he was everything life had taught her not to expect.

“Now, woman-who-fights,” Maki said, breaking her out of her momentary love-trance. “What are we going to do?”

“We hold our position until Ares gets here. You and your soldiers must protect this ship at all costs. One way or another, we’re getting out of here, but I’m not even thinking about leaving without him.”

“Good words.” Maki nodded in approval. “Fighting words.”

“Calexa!” A deep, resonant voice echoed through the hold. It was powerful and organic and metallic, and it was distinctly Ares.

It held an edge of desperation. It held vicious anger. It held something she’d never heard from him before—a trace of fear.

“Get everyone inside your ship, now!”

She still couldn’t see him. A tremor rippled through the floor. It was impossible to understand what was really happening out there in the corridor. All she knew was that Ares was approaching, and he’d sent her a warning.

A command.

She could stand here and question her sanity for a thousand orbits, or she could act.

Do you trust him with your life? Do you trust him with the lives of your best friends and your crew and all of those terrified human girls, none of whom would be able to lift a finger if those big, bad Vradhu warriors decided to have their way with them?

For someone who had major trust issues, the answer to her own question was surprisingly simple.

Yes.

She trusted the man who had watched over her while she slept. She trusted the man who had fed her and taken care of her and then quietly and sincerely asked for her help.

Who had held back, despite the naked hunger in his eyes.

That look. It was only now that she finally understood.

She clicked her teeth twice, activating her comm. “Hey, crew. It’s been a rough ride into this strange sector of the universe, but the good news is that we’re still alive. Seems we finally pushed our luck too far by taking this job, but you knew the risks.”

“We did.” To her surprise, it was Monroe who spoke. Monroe rarely ever spoke. “Fiveways rules. We gambled, we lost. Now, we start again.”

“I’m going to call in all my debts right here, right now,” Calexa continued, speaking low and fast. “I’m going to ask you all to trust me one last time. When this is over, I’ll amend our Company contract to include whatever conditions you like. Raphael and Monroe, I’ll write off the rest of your freedom-debt. You can have the rights to the fucking Medusa if you want. Mai and Zahra, you can both stop feeling like you owe me for getting you out of the bond-houses. I just did what either of you would have done for me.”

“We’ve got your back, Cal, you know that.” This time, it was Mai on the comm. “What do you need, captain?”

“The Vradhu are going to come onboard right now. They’re going to enter the cargo hold, and we’re going to stop the Corrupted from breaching our ship. Raf, put some charge into the triticore missiles and keep the thrusters warm.”

Already, Maki was shouting orders at his men, getting them to move.

“How the hell are we going to get the airlock open?”

“As a last resort, we could try and blast our way out, but just hold on. I think Ares might have a solution.”

“Who the fuck is Ares?”

“You’ll see,” she said darkly as her heart beat a frantic staccato. She wanted to see him so badly; she wanted to know he was okay.

And she was utterly terrified that this insanity he proposed wouldn’t work, that he would remain trapped on this cursed destroyer as a Drakhin, doomed to fight the Corrupted and the Naaga for all eternity while they escaped to the relative safety of the unknown.

To Khira.

An uncharted, unmapped planet, which they knew nothing about.

This is madness.

But when had Calexa ever not been considered mad?

“So, crew,” she said softly as the Corrupted closed in on them, and the creepy sounds from the outer corridor became louder and louder, and the tremors in the floor turned into ripples and then waves, “what’s it gonna be?”

The Medusa’s thrusters roared to life.

“Hallelujah,” Zahra said, invoking an old Earth word. “I’ve never been so glad to hear that sound. What, Cal? Did you think we were going to say no?”

“I…”

“Tell the purple guys they can hang out in the hold, but I’ll gut anyone who touches my snack stash. Oh, and they don’t get safety restraints when we take off and land, but I’m sure they’ll survive. They look plenty tough.”

“I’ll…” Fuck. Once again, she was lost for words. Her throat closed up, and she cut the comm, suddenly afraid she might say something stupid, or bawl her eyes out.

There was no need to talk.

They’d all been through so much together. They knew what was up.

Calexa blinked furiously and motioned to the Vradhu to get going. “You heard the khefe,” she yelled, not knowing what the word meant, but liking the sound of it.

The Vradhu who carried their fallen came first, silent and inscrutable as they trotted past Calexa, heading for the ramp.

She activated her comm. “There are two bodies,” she said grimly. “We could put them in the cryo-vac, but I don’t know how that would go down from a cultural perspective, so just let them be.”

Maki doubled back, rounding up his men.

Calexa stared off into the distance, watching, waiting, hoping that Ares would come around the corner.

Then it struck her.

That fucking smell.

Overripe banana, only it wasn’t. This smell had nothing to do with the ridiculously expensive fruit.

It was poison, and poison meant Naaga.

One by one, the Vradhu fell.

Even Maki dropped to his knees, his black eyes widening in shock and outrage. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his expression that of a man who wanted to commit pure bloody murder, but couldn’t.

“No!” Calexa screamed as a group of living Naaga walked into the hold. The one in front swung a tiny metal ball on a chain. “Mai, Zahra, we have to save them!”

“What the hell is happening, Cal?”

“I… I don’t really know.” She ran, pumping her legs, her bionic joints working to propel her much faster than any ordinary human.

The Naaga stopped and stared right at her. One of them stood out; a woman clad in a suit of armor similar to the one Ares had been wearing, Her face was protected by an opaque helmet that completely concealed her features.

The others fanned out behind her, silent and deferent. Clearly, she was some sort of leader, and the ordinary Naaga were her underlings.

Sensing weakness, the Corrupted swarmed on their opponents, tearing at defenseless Vradhu bodies with their vicious claws. Blood spilled as they penetrated thick armor. Calexa screamed in frustration.

The Vradhu were spread out all across the hold, and neither she, Mai, or Zahra could get to them fast enough.

The Naaga-leader made a minute gesture with her hand. One of her subordinates stepped forward, a clear glass box in his hands. She dropped the swinging orb-thing inside, and the lid dropped closed with a soft snap.

The strange banana smell disappeared, and all around her, wounded Vradhu started to rouse.

Not a single Vradhu screamed or cried out. All Calexa heard were soft grunts of pain as the Vradhu regained their weapons and started to fight back.

Several of them were badly wounded, but that didn’t slow them down. Calexa winced as she caught sight of swirls of crimson. Blood. Lots and lots of it.

These Vradhu were tough cookies.

She left them to grapple with the Corrupted, her strides lengthening as she crossed the massive floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mai running toward Maki, who had suffered a deep gash across his stomach.

The Naaga leader raised her arm and pointed in Calexa’s direction. Two of the blue ones broke off and sprinted after her.

Careful.

Something wasn’t right. The Naaga didn’t fight conventionally. Why were they running to meet her when she had her bone swords drawn and ready? They weren’t even holding weapons, just…

One of them threw something in her direction.

As it sailed through the air, she recognized it as one of those triangular energy-sucking devices.

It was attached to a chain.

Don’t let it touch you.

She remembered how devastating it had been last time. The Vradhu had taken her vir, rendering her as weak as a puppy and utterly helpless.

Calexa dodged, keeping her swords low. Angling toward the Naaga, she thrust one of her blades into his heart.

It sank deep and true.

Still he moved, yanking the chain with one hand.

How?

As the vir-harvester came flying back toward her, Calexa remembered.

They have two hearts.

She brought the other blade home, but it was too late.

The object slammed into her back, and something sharp dug into her skin just beneath her shoulder blade, holding the horrible thing in place. Her legs turned to jelly. She dropped to her knees, her twin swords falling form her hands. The world spun by, becoming a muted blur.

Someone in the distance was desperately yelling her name. It was Zahra.

She wanted to scream out a warning, to tell her not to come any closer, but she couldn’t move, let alone speak.

There was that awful feeling again, as if the ground had been torn out from underneath her. Her life-force was being stolen. A chill seeped into her bones.

Gotta move. She gritted her teeth and tried to resist, but it was futile.

The Naaga in the armor-suit walked toward her, her long-limbed stride eating up the floor. As she reached Calexa’s side, her underling scuttled away. He seemed afraid of the mysterious woman.

All Calexa wanted to do was to run her twin swords through the fucking alien’s dual hearts. This feeling of being trapped and utterly helpless—it was almost worse than death.

The creature bent and reached behind her, closing her fingers around the vir-eating thing. Her gloved hands brushed against Calexa’s thermosuit, making her skin crawl. “What strange turn of fate has brought you to us?” she murmured. “Perhaps you were sent by the very gods that made us.” Her laugh was cold and harsh and unpleasant.

The Naaga yanked the chain with her other hand. Exquisite pain shot through Calexa’s back. She screamed. Behind her, Zahra was shouting.

Don’t come! She wanted to warn her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t even click her teeth to activate her comm; they were chattering from the terrible cold.

“Don’t worry, creature. I won’t kill you. I’m just going to drain you to the point of near-death. You see, that golden energy contained within your body is incredibly valuable.” She laughed again, her voice laced with astonishment, as if she couldn’t quite believe her luck. “Your species… whatever you are, you really are an anomaly, aren’t you? I can see that your companions over there possess the same wealth of energy. I would not be surprised if the Hythra herself sensed the power within you and drew you here. You are as rich in vir as a first-generation Naaga.”

“Wh…” What the hell was this mad creature talking about? Calexa tried to ask, but her question came out as nothing more than a faint wheeze.

“Mmm.” A sound of deep satisfaction escaped the Naaga. She brought the triangular object around to the front, showing it to Calexa. Tiny lights flickered along its side, emitting a warm golden glow. “That’s your energy, your vir,” the Naaga explained. “This is a rakiriel. It harvests your vir so I can use it. It would take a thousand of our kind to produce the amount of energy I have just taken from you. Now, all I have to do is this.” She ran a finger down the center of her chest and her scale-armor split in two, revealing a triangle-shaped metal plate embedded in her blue skin. The Naaga pressed the rakiriel against the plate.

A low hum emanated from the device. The metal plate began to glow, turning the same shade of golden as the lights on the rakiriel.

The Naaga laughed. “Oh, do not look at me like that. As long as you provide us with vir, you and your people will be fed, sheltered, and clothed. We know what it is like to be enslaved. Before we evolved, we were the under-race. Now it is your turn.”

The Naaga dropped to her knees, slamming her palm against the floor. Tendrils of ilverium snaked up her arm.

No! Ares was supposed to be the only one who could control the fucking essence of the ship. Why was she suddenly able to do it?

Calexa’s teeth were chattering again. She was so cold, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep.

You can’t!

Not now… not when they were so close to escaping.

Not when these crazy aliens wanted to make them into slaves.

Zahra’s hoarse, angry cry reached her ears.

Help them! Calexa pleaded, trying to catch the attention of the Vradhu, but they were all too busy fighting off the Corrupted.

“That is better,” the Naaga said. “Much better. Now we can take back what is rightfully ours.”

Calexa’s heart slowed. Her eyes closed. Consciousness slipped out of her grasp, and she fought to remain awake. Her voice caught in her throat. She forced her mouth open, but nothing came out.

Ares! She clung to hope, willing her metal-lord, her Vradhu, her Drakhin, her ilverium-slinging warrior to come and find her, just like he had when she’d gone down in the sci-labs.

Amazingly, he responded.

“Get your hands off her!” His voice resonated with metal and power, and a shockwave rippled through the floor. This was Vradhu Ares, warrior Ares, the so-called khefe who took down kratok without blinking, who moved like an unstoppable hurricane as he cut through his enemies.

She didn’t give a shit what he looked like. He could take any form he wanted and she would still follow him.

Her chest moved up-and-down in silent laughter. Sweet stars, she was so relieved and ecstatic she felt giddy. Maybe the freezing cold and energy deprivation were making her delirious.

“You died the moment you dared to touch her vir,” he snarled, his voice growing louder, echoing through the vast chamber. “That is mine. She is mine.” The sound was so deliciously menacing that it pulled Calexa back to the surface, saving her from sinking into frigid oblivion.

“You think that just because you control a few tentacles of ilverium, you suddenly know all the secrets of this ship?” The Naaga sank her hands into the floor, and when she pulled them out again, she held thick ropes of the liquid metal. “You are an anomaly, nothing more, and now you are weak. Look at you! Even in that form, you are an insult to the Drakhin masters that once walked amongst us. They would have torn you down in an instant.”

“You know nothing.” Ares appeared in the center of the hold like ablack-winged angel of death.

The floor rippled outwards as his feet hit the surface. Ares stalked across to the Naaga, his claw-tipped hands trembling. His tail was out. He coiled it around the Naaga’s neck. She wrapped ilverium vines around his neck, trying to choke him. “Savage,” she hissed. “Give up the Hythra. She is not meant to be ruled by the likes of you.”

“You think I know how to give up this fucking curse?” Ares lifted her off her feet, squeezing with his tail, ignoring the tendrils of ilverium that slithered up his legs and torso.

Wild, savage bloodlust rose inside Calexa’s chest. Finish her! She wanted to shout the words out loud, wanted desperately for Ares to take his dirty, savage victory, just like she had in the Arena when she’d been written off.

They thought she’d be dead within the first five minutes. They hadn’t understood how strong a bond-house slave needed to be in order to survive.

She’d lasted three seasons in that bloody pit, and she was going to survive here, too.

Ares hadn’t even looked at her, but it didn’t matter. She’d heard the intensity in his voice. The force of his anger had knocked her flat.

He’d come for her.

For the first time in her life, someone had come for her.

“Ugh!” The Naaga kicked, her slender legs flailing in thin air. Ares smashed his fist into her reflective face-plate.

It cracked.

He hit her again. The metal vines went crazy, turning into a swirling vortex.

“Why are you not going down? You have no vir.”

“I don’t need it to deal with your kind.” He hit her a third time, and her faceplate shattered. “You took what belongs to me.”

Pieces of glass, or metal, or whatever substance her faceplate was made of fell to the floor, revealing the flat eyes of a Naaga, but unlike the others, these eyes shimmered with a faint golden glow.

Although Calexa’s thoughts had slowed to an icy trickle, she understood that this vir of hers was something the Naaga desperately wanted. Somehow, it allowed this strange creature to control the ilverium.

It made her powerful.

She shuddered. If the vir was so valuable to the Naaga, and if all humans possessed it in great amounts, then…

Their situation had just become incredibly dangerous.

Another piece of the Naaga’s faceplate fell away, revealing a number or a word stamped into her forehead in strange alien script.

We know what it is like to be enslaved.

The tattoo-like mark reminded Calexa of the brand given to her by the Khral. It had been etched into her skin just above her left hip-bone, and she’d had it cut out as soon as she’d broken free of her contract with the Arena.

The ilverium engulfed Ares’s lower half, reaching up to his waist. He dug his thumbs into the Naaga’s eyes. She screamed. A loud crackle rent the air, and golden energy rippled down Ares’s arms.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His lips were slightly parted, and his jaw trembled slightly.

The golden glow was visible for only a split-second, but Calexa understood.

He was draining vir from the Naaga, and the look on his face was astonishing and terrifying and utterly seductive.

It was a look of pure ecstasy, as if the vir—Calexa’s very own life force—was the ultimate drug.

Ever since he’d become Drakhin, he’d refrained from touching her. Now she understood. It intoxicated him.

Was he even aware of his surroundings right now?

The ship listed to one side, the floor tilting as it became a precarious slope. Calexa fell flat on her face and slid down, the metal surface becoming soft and warm underneath her.

Face down, she could no longer see Ares or the Naaga or any of her friends. “Ares!” She tried to cry out, but nothing came.

A shockwave burst outwards from Ares, and she got the sense he was right in front of her. Using all of her strength, she lifted her head and saw his legs and his feet, still covered in writhing, twisting ilverium.

The entire destroyer jerked violently. Ares had lost awareness. He’d lost control. If this continued, he’d kill them all.

“Aargh!” Calexa screamed as she summoned strength from that deep, desperate place where she buried all of her darkness. It was the place she went to when she needed to leap out of her head and destroy her fears, her weaknesses, her limits. It was the place she went to when she needed to grab the very fabric of reality and twist it into what she wanted it to become.

Fate was malleable. She’d learned that a long time ago. If she let this moment pass, it would be lost forever.

She reached out and hooked an arm around Ares’s legs, her ice-cold skin burning up as she came into contact with his warmth. She held on for dear life as the ship rocked back-and-forth. “Stop,” she hissed, desperately hoping he could hear her.

Tendrils of ilverium engulfed her hand, her arm, her shoulder, threatening to drown her in a morass of living metal.

She didn’t care.

“Stop!” This time, her voice was louder, even though she was growing weaker by the second, for as soon as she’d come into contact with Ares, that terrible energy-drain had started again.

Could he control it? Could he even stop it? Was he aware of the effect he had on her?

Was she going to die here?

Her vision blurred. Her heartbeat grew faint. Her breaths were rapid and shallow. She wavered on the edge of oblivion, but still she held on, her bionic joints locking into place.

She wasn’t letting go. She would fucking freeze to death around him, if that’s what it took.

Her entire life boiled down to this moment. From her spartan upbringing in the Human Quarter on D5, to the shock and horror of realizing she’d been repossessed because her parents couldn’t repay their generation-debt, to the brutality of the bond-house, to the vicious kill-or-be-killed maelstrom of the Arena, she’d spent her entire life enduring hit after hit after hit.

And she was strong, no matter what they tried to do to her. She was human. She had to be strong.

I am here. Wake up, inkface!

A sickening crunch told her the Naaga was gone; he’d snapped the creature’s neck.

Monster!

And yet she clung to him as if her life depended on it—which it did.

“Foolish Naaga,” Ares growled. His voice had changed. It was Ares, but it wasn’t; a deep, terrifying, metallic echo that rang with limitless power. “Did you not know that the Drakhin came from us?”

“Ares!” Calexa pleaded, seeing nothing but darkness.

Enough!

The Naaga’s body crashed to the floor beside her. Calexa saw stars.

“No!” Ares cried.

She forced herself to look at him. It was harder than anything she’d done in her life. All she wanted to do was sleep, but now she could see him, all silver and black and fearsome, and his eyes…

They glowed with her vir.

Pure, brilliant gold.

Widening in horror.

“Let go,” he said, his voice cracking. “Calexa, you have to let go. This… I… will kill you.”

Still, the ship rocked. They were adrift in an endless sea of chaos and ilverium.

“Get ahold of yourself, Drak,” she whispered, trying to move her arm. “You need to control those crazy emotions of yours, or we’re all going to die.”

He crouched down and gently uncurled Calexa’s stiff arm from around his legs, his trembling fingers searing her thermosuit-clad skin. As soon as she was free, he withdrew, and the ship’s violent motion began to settle. “I can’t touch you,” he said again, stepping back. “I wish I could.”

“I- I don’t care about that now.” Her teeth chattered, but as soon as Ares had let go of her, she could move again. She could talk again. “I’m not fucking dead, am I? Control yourself. Call my girls. They can carry me to the Medusa. I’ll eat something. I’ll be fine. Go and help your brothers take care of those bloody Corrupted, and watch out for the Naaga. They have a poisonous ball-on-a-chain that sends everyone to sleep. You know all about that, don’t you?”

Ares stared at her, unblinking and bemused as she pulled herself into a sitting position. The chaotic rocking motion of the ship dropped to a gentle, rhythmic lull.

Speaking of sleep…

She yawned. Her eyes drooped. She was drained from inside and out, and all she wanted to do was collapse into a heap and meet the god of dreams for a while.

But there was still so much to do.

Ares dropped onto his haunches beside her. “I will make this right.” There was a terrible yearning in his voice. “I knew this would happen. I hate not being able to touch you.”

“Ares. Stop. You saved my life.”

“You know what you are to me. The thought of another laying their hands on you, harming you… It drives me insane.”

“Oh…” Damn. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her in her entire life. Even though she was weaker right now than she’d ever been, even though Ares had been transformed into a scale-faced, energy-sucking, vampire-alien who could kill in the blink of an eye, she felt safe.

Everything’s going to be fine.

How did she know that?

Because he was here, and he was saying things that tore up the foundations of everything she knew, making them whole again.

This was a new world, where the rules of the past didn’t exist.

“Hey, Cal, are you all right? Zahra’s down! Oh my god, if that silver asshole touches you again, I’m gonna blast—” Mai’s static-laced voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

“No! Believe it or not, he’s a friendly. Get Zahra first, then me.”

“What, you’re telling me that even with all those scaly muscles, dragon-man can’t help you?”

“Believe it or not, he can’t.” Calexa sighed. “Long story. It’s complicated. I’ll tell you all about it when we’re away from this fucking nightmare.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Damn it, I need support. Can’t be in two places at once. Raf’s stuck in the bridge getting our systems back online, and Monroe can’t leave the powerbanks… something to do with the whole system potentially crashing if he stops manually adjusting—”

“Get S to help.”

“The princess?” Mai sounded skeptical.

“Primeans are supposed to have all these superior physical abilities, aren’t they? Make her work. I’ll bet her precious ass can run just as fast as our modified ones.”

“Got it. Oh, and Cal, that insanely terrifying alien with the wings and the tail and the liquid metal… He knows we’re friendlies, right?”

“He does. Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you, but stay away from the blue guys at all costs. They have all kinds of tricks up their sleeves.”

“And when we’re safely out in space, you’re going to tell me everything, right?”

“I always do.”

Beside her, Ares seethed, radiating menace. He paced back-and-forth, his half-outstretched wings moving up-and-down.

Calexa raised a hand, trying to appease him. He was so dangerous right now. “Ares, I’m fine. Weak, but fine. It’s not as bad as last time.” It was true. She was drained, but not to the point where she would lapse into unconsciousness at any moment.

“I should have come sooner.” Almost absentmindedly, Ares sent out a deadly lash of ilverium, slicing an approaching Naaga in two. Green blood went everywhere. Calexa winced and looked away.

He dropped to his knees, facing her. “Everything is so much easier now, thanks to your vir.” He met her gaze, and everything stopped. The Hythra stopped moving. The chaos around them—the Corrupted, the raging Vradhu, the Naaga, the rippling metal floor—it all turned into a distant, muted roar as she faced Ares.

Their Universe narrowed into a tiny point where only the two of them existed, and Ares’s face twisted in pain and longing, because the very thing he wanted most was denied.

Touch.

She wanted it, too; she wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted his big, warm, solid body enclosing her, no matter whether he was Drakhin or Vradhu or neither or both.

She didn’t care. He was Ares, and that was all that mattered.

“No matter what happens,” he said softly, “I’ll make sure you and your people get off this destroyer.”

“Same here.” She looked up into his face, and the sheer tenderness in his expression floored her.

“My makivari.” His eyes had turned the most startling shade of golden, and they held terrible sadness. “I am a full-blooded Drakhin now. The Hythra speaks to me of power and insanity, and I am terrified of what I have become. The consciousness transfer is my last hope, and a long-shot at that. If it doesn’t work, do not try to save me. Just leave all of this behind, and never, ever come back.”

“But…” Holy hell, was this really happening? If she weren’t so drained, Calexa would have slammed her fists into the floor in sheer frustration.

He was the one for her. She wasn’t delirious. She wasn’t crazy. She felt it in her metal-coated bones. She felt it in the depths of her battered soul. Ares was the only being in the vast Universe that made her want to drop her barriers completely and surrender.

And now she might lose him?

“You’re telling me I might have to leave you.”

“You are going to survive.” His jaw jutted out at a stubborn angle as he crossed his rippling arms.

“So are you.” Calexa returned his glare with a mulish look. Stubborn? Ha. He had no idea. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You will do as I say, human.” His voice had changed, becoming deep, metallic, and resonant. A Drakhin voice, imbued with limitless power.

Scary.

But this was her Ares, and she wasn’t afraid. “No,” she said, slowly, deliberately. “You can’t just hold onto all that power without anyone to hold you accountable.”

“Calexa,” he snapped, and she liked the way he said her name, in that stern, commanding tone of voice.

She understood what he was trying to do, and it warmed her bitter heart that he would put her safety above everything else. Sweet, beautiful, headstrong male. He was a little unhinged right now—who wouldn’t be after going through all those mind-boggling changes in such a short period of time? Oh, she understood, because she’d been a little unhinged for most of her bloody life.

Her chin also took on a stubborn little tilt. “If you can’t get off this crazy ride, then maybe I’ll stay right here with you.”

Ares glowered in an affectionate kind of way.

“Cal?” And then Mai arrived, staring at them with a bug-eyed expression that Calexa might have found totally hilarious, if the situation weren’t so damn serious.

“Help me up, Mai.”

Strong arms went around her. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking cold. What the hell happened? What did he do to you?”

He took my essence and claimed my soul.

“It wasn’t his fault.” Calexa regarded Ares with a deliberate stare. She spoke Earthian with Mai, so he couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but she hoped he understood her tone of voice. “Sorry, I can’t stand on my own just yet, but I should be okay in a little while. Just need to chomp on an energy bar and put on a double thermojacket. Ares will be following us. We have a few, uh, things we need to sort out.”

“You sure are inviting all kinds of strange people onboard our ship, Cal.” Mai lifted her with ease, and Calexa held Ares’s gaze as they broke into a run. Are you sure you don’t want to take a raincheck on the big guy over there? I don’t know how else to say this, but he scares the crap out of me.” A broken laugh erupted from her lips. “Everyone here and everything about this place scares the crap out of me, and I’m not the sort to frighten easily.”

“Understatement of the century,” Calexa said dryly. “Don’t worry. I’m vouching for him, and I’m a good judge of character. Besides, if he really wanted to board our ship without permission, there’s nothing we’d be able to do about it.”

“You’re trying to tell me that even Beauty wouldn’t—”

“Nope.” She suspected nothing could take down Ares in his current form.

“Well, that’s reassuring, isn’t it?”

“Mightily.” As they made a beeline for the Medusa, they shot past furiously fighting Vradhu and flailing Corrupted. S came into view, sprinting across the battlefield with Zahra in her arms, her long legs effortlessly eating up the distance.

She looked magnificent and determined, and Calexa couldn’t help but feel a stab of envy at the Primean’s physical superiority, especially when she was lying helpless in Mai’s arms. “Like something out of an Earthian imaginarium,” she grumbled. “Should have given her a gun and asked her to hold the fort.”

“I’d prefer dirty freedom to Primeans and their fucked up hierarchy any day of the week. Besides, we leveled the playing field ages ago.”

“Yeah.” They’d gone through a world of pain to have their illegal bio-enhancements fitted. This Universe wasn’t kind to the weak.

“So, you and dragon-man figured out how we’re going to open the airlock yet? I can’t wait to get back to the deep-deep.”

“You do know we’re going planetside until Monroe can put a permanent fix on the powerbanks?” It was far too risky to shoot off without knowing where they were and how far they could run, and she’d promised Ares she’d return the Vradhu to Khira.

A thrill of excitement ran through her as she glanced over Mai’s shoulder and caught Ares’s enigmatic golden eyes.

Khira.

Totally uncharted. Completely unheard of. They would be the very first humans to set foot on this mysterious planet, where the natives were painted in vivid shades of violet and black, and their enemies wielded poison and strange technology. Language implants. Cloning. Consciousness transfer.

If they brought any of that back to the Fiveways, they would make an unimaginable fortune. They would be set for life.

But could they even get back to the Fiveways? Could they ever return, or were they stranded?

She didn’t know.

Ares’s home planet. Calexa shuddered. How desperately she wanted to see it. She wanted to learn about his people, his culture, his origins. She wanted to unlock the mysteries of what he was and understand how it was possible for him to turn from Vradhu to Drakhin.

What was a Drakhin exactly, anyway, and why was this sentient, liquid-metal ship floating in Khira’s orbit?

And… did she even want to return home?

To her surprise, she didn’t really know the answer to that last question. She just wanted to hear him call her makivari again in that growly, possessive-yet-tender tone of voice.

And then… Then she wanted him to be able to touch her with his velvet-scaled Drakhin hand without killing her. That would be nice.