“A female who fights.” Ares shook his head as he stared down at the unconscious alien. She’d fought damn well too, and he’d told her so, even though she hadn’t understood a thing he’d said.

Then he’d tightened the ilverium noose around her neck, and she’d passed out.

He should have done that at the start, but stepping off the metal floor of the Hythra onto the alien ship had weakened his powers, and she’d caught him off-guard with that damn blast-weapon of hers.

She had caught him off-guard. Ha. Even in his temporarily weakened state, that was a formidable feat.

He couldn’t restrain his curiosity any longer. With gentle hands, he reached down to remove her helmet. Although her eyeshield was transparent, the lower half of her face was concealed behind a protective casing of black metal.

From the very beginning, her eyes had entranced him. They were clear, glittering blue, like the mountain streams of the Highfold.

So this is… an offworlder. The Ancient Stones told of distant places beyond the Shadowring, where strange races built vast civilizations and traveled between the stars.

The Ancient Stones were full of warnings. Vradhu weren’t supposed to have contact with outsiders. It was forbidden.

Feh. Since when had he taken those foolish elders seriously?

He was dying to see what the rest of her looked like.

Ares fumbled with the clasp mechanism at the base of her helmet until it gave way, detaching from the mesh-like protective collar around her neck. He pulled the ungainly thing over her head, revealing her face for the very first time.

Sweet Aethra.

He inhaled sharply, fascinated by her alien appearance. He’d never expected to see such an exotic creature up close. He was struck by the odd hue of her skin. It was light brown, and it glistened with a faint sheen of moisture. It appeared soft; he wondered what it would feel like under his bare fingertips.

Her hair was a deep, rich shade of brown. It was tied up high on her head and braided into a long tail—a warrior’s braid.

There was no mistaking it, she was a warrior. There was a fierceness about her that spilled over even when she was unconscious. It was in the proud lines of her features. A sharp but once-broken nose, stubborn chin, and full, luscious lips made her a study in contrasts. It was in the scars on her cheeks—two sharp, defiant slashes that stood out against her otherwise unblemished skin.

Ares exhaled as he allowed the ilverium to release its grip on her. The silver-grey tendrils withdrew, retreating into his body.

As always, ilverium sought to return to the whole, yearning to become one with the body of the ship. It took considerable willpower to resist its magnetic pull. Ares couldn’t hold out much longer. He needed to plant his feet on the Hythra’s floor.

“I told you to come with me.” Ares shook his head in amazement as he bent down, preparing to lift her into his arms. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

He’d expected this, though. She’d been on the defensive. She’d been terrified. When he’d pushed the ilverium toward her, she’d fired her weapon. Of course she had. He just hadn’t expected her to move so fucking quickly. The ilverium was supposed to have immobilized her before she had a chance do any serious damage, so he could take her away and avoid all this drama.

Ares slid his arms underneath her and drew her close, rising to his feet. He grunted with the effort. She was much, much heavier than she looked.

What in Aethra’s cursed abyss was her body made of? Fucking metal?

He strained as he hefted her over his shoulder. Her armor-suit added even more weight and bulk to her frame, but Ares had spent many a moon hauling kratok carcasses through the Highfold, and he was used to such things.

He took a moment to turn and take stock of his surroundings. He was in a small entrance bay. On either side of him was a sliding door. Both doors were open, which struck him as odd. As he turned toward the exit, heavy footsteps reached his ears. Someone was running toward him.

Another alien appeared in the doorway. This one was dressed similarly to his catch, in an ungainly grey armor-suit and oval-shaped helmet, but she had a different weapon; a giant cannon-like thing that she carried over one shoulder.

“Tch,” Ares shook his head in disapproval. These strange brown-skinned creatures were strong, almost as strong and fast as a Vradhu warrior in his prime, but they depended on magrel weapons.

The alien yelled at him in an angry, high-pitched voice. She raised her weapon but didn’t fire. She wasn’t going to shoot him, of that Ares was certain. After all, he had her comrade draped over his shoulder.

He held up a hand and summoned the ilverium. It poured in from the outside as Ares retreated. He formed an image of a wall in his mind and the ilverium obeyed, creating an impenetrable barrier between him and the shouting female.

The summoning took more effort than usual. Ares didn’t waste any more time. He reached the doorway and jumped, bypassing the metal ramp he’d constructed earlier. The structure had allowed him to reach the entrance of the alien ship, but now he had no use for it, so he dissolved it in his mind. It collapsed, falling to the floor, where it merged with the very substance of the Hythra itself.

He bent his knees as he landed, maintaining a tight grip on the unconscious alien. Dozens of curious eyes turned toward them.

Ilverium surged at his feet in a welcoming caress, and he felt his power return. At his bidding, the writhing metallic substance flowed into the alien ship, sealing off the doorway, piling on thicker and thicker until an impenetrable barrier was created.

He could no longer hear the small alien’s shouting voice.

Boom. A dull explosion reached his ears. The ilverium barrier bent outwards before snapping back into place. The alien inside must have tried to blast it open.

Crazy female. Had she actually fired that thing?

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t escape, and he’d gotten what he came for.

He only needed one of them, after all.

Ares ignored the commotion and walked toward the pack. Maki had been as good as his word and kept his warriors at bay. Vradhu could be cruel at times, especially if they sensed weakness.

It came with the territory.

“What have you caught this time, Hunter?” Maki inclined his head, scrutinizing Ares’s prize. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What is that? It is… female, yes?”

Ares nodded. Her features were distinctly feminine, and her armor failed to conceal the alluring swell of her breasts and the roundness of her hips.

A murmur rippled through the pack. To the Vradhu, the notion of a female warrior was almost unthinkable. The others stared at his exotic catch in fascination.

They weren’t used to aliens. Aside from the cursed Naaga, who had ruined everything, they hadn’t encountered any other intelligent species.

Appearing mildly impressed, Maki met Ares’s gaze. “She fights well?” He was undoubtedly taking in the damage inflicted on Ares’s Drakhin-tech helmet.

“Well enough,” Ares shrugged. “Even though she uses magrel.” He used the Vradhu word that meant false weapon, unnatural, and forbidden, amongst other things. Of course, he was referring to that infernal blast-weapon of hers.

The warriors spoke amongst themselves in low, disbelieving tones. Although they feared what Ares had become, they knew what he’d been like before the Hythra had taken him, and they knew very well what he was capable of as a warrior.

Like all of his kind, he didn’t give praise lightly.

“And there are… others like her?” Vanu stared up at the strange alien ship, his black eyes gleaming with curiosity. The young warrior’s kratok-hide armor was still dark and shiny. He’d killed his first giant beast less than a tenmoon ago, and he was still breaking in the tough, impenetrable hide. Over time, the surface of his armor would grow dull and fade as it hardened in some places and grew soft in others, molded and shaped by the natural movements of his body.

Unlike the others, Vanu didn’t try to avoid Ares’s gaze. His lighter coloring and the markings on his face—three distinct stripes on each cheek that ran diagonally from cheekbone to jaw—indicated that he was a descendant of the Outer Tribes, and like most of the outer Vradhu, he wasn’t as traditional or rigid as some of the purebloods under Maki’s command.

Ares rather liked the young warrior.

“There are others,” he confirmed. Behind his smashed helmet, Ares’s lips curved upward in amusement. “If possible, I would rather you leave them be until this one has been programmed. It will be easier that way.”

“And if they attack?” Vanu waved his war-spear suggestively.

Ares acknowledged Maki with a small nod, stopping just short of deference. “I would request that you try not to kill any of them, but that is your choice to make. If the others are anything like this she-demon, then you may encounter some… difficulties.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“To our ‘masters’.” There was a note of irony in Ares’s voice. Of course, he was referring to the Naaga.

Cursed creatures.

If they didn’t carry out their orders and rid the Hythra of the Corrupted ones, the Two Clans would lose their precious homeland. It was a fool’s bargain, but they had no choice. The Naaga were not known for their compassion. To the white-eyed devils, everything was calculated.

Ares growled deep in his throat as he remembered the disgraceful manner in which they’d been lured and captured. The floor around his feet rippled, reacting to his anger.

The warriors hastily stepped aside as he passed. Although his shoulder was beginning to ache—this Aethra-cursed female weighed as much as a damned kratok carcass—he didn’t waver. He may have become a monster, but he still had his pride. “I will make them implant the translator-thing into her, just like they did with us. Then our existence on this cursed prison might just become interesting again.”

“You’re nuts, Ares.” Maki’s low voice followed him across the hold. “The Naaga sci-people won’t agree to fit her with an implant. We don’t even know if her kind are compatible with their technology.”

Ares grunted. Maki was correct. He was nuts, and the longer he remained trapped in his own shifting metal prison, the more he desperately yearned for the wide-open waterplains of the Ardu-Sai. “Who said anything about agreeing?” His smile turned bitter. When Ares requested things, people obeyed, because they all knew very well that the power of life and death was contained in the metal running through his veins.

He wasn’t worried about the alien’s compatibility in the slightest. If the smooth metal bumps along the back of her neck were anything to go by, then she’d had magrel things inserted into her body before. Surely she could take a little Naaga interference. After all, Ares and the others had survived the process, and this strange being had just gone toe-to-toe with a Vradhu warrior and come out alive.

That spoke volumes about her toughness.

Ares was rather pleased with his catch.

The creature in his arms began to stir, making murmuring noises that were rather soft and vulnerable and… appealing.

It made sense that she would be starting to rouse. He’d tightened the ilverium noose enough to render her temporarily unconscious, nothing more.

“Better hurry,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t want her regaining her senses just yet. This one… If he didn’t make her understand the situation soon, she would be difficult to contain, and it would be a damn shame if he had to kill her.

“What about the rest of your catch, Hunter? You have earned dividing rights.” As usual, Maki was the voice of reason, reminding Ares of his duties to the clan.

Claim your prize, take what you need, divide the rest between your brothers. That was the Vradhu way.

The situation was… awkward. In his current form, Ares was stronger than Maki—in truth, he’d always been the stronger one—but Maki outranked him, and there was no way he would dare presume to tell the Lord of the Two Clans what to do. That would be a terrible mistake. He would instantly lose face.

Ares glanced over his shoulder as he exited the hold. The Vradhu stared at the alien ship with looks of burning curiosity. Who knew what they might do? Feh. Who cared? Ares couldn’t be in two places at once, and he already had what he needed. He would leave the business of handling the aliens to Maki. “Take what you wish, Maki. Try not to cause any more damage their vessel—or to those who could possibly repair it,” he called out. “I am sure you know what I mean.”

Maki smiled at him, revealing brilliant silver teeth. His expression was nothing short of predatory. “Naturally. It came in from space, so hopefully it can go out the same way. I am on your leaf, Ares-rai.” He slipped in the term of endearment as he regarded Ares’ catch with an appraising look. “Try not to ruin the alien.”

Ares let out a soft snort as he spirited the female away, heading for the sci-labs. What did Maki think he was—some sort of wanton youth? As alluring and fascinating as the female was, he wasn’t interested in that. Not when they couldn’t even understand one another.

Insidious, heated thoughts entered his mind. He quickly crushed them.

She would need the language implant; the very same one that was inside his head, enabling him to speak and understand Naaga. It would be painful at first, but she was strong enough to handle it. There was no way around it, and the only ones who could do it were the Naaga themselves.

They would agree to his demands, because he was the host— the commander— of this infernal ship, and he held the fate of everyone in his hands. Of course, the Naaga were just biding their time, waiting for the Hythra to swallow him, but Ares wasn’t going anywhere soon, and he was going to use every damn advantage he had to try and break out of this unnatural mess.