My eyes slowly open, and the first thing I notice is smoke. The black clouds are too dense to see through. It covers everything in heavy, thick tendrils, rising up into the air over me, suffocating and burning my lungs. Where am I?

Suddenly, a blast of fire ruptures from the smoke. I cringe, holding my arm up to cover my face. I can feel the heat from the explosion blanket the air, but I don’t hear anything. I can’t hear! An intense ringing hovers in my ears. The realization sends panic into my chest. My fingers paw at my ears frantically.

What’s going on? None of my thoughts are connecting. I was on the ship, and then he came—the blue one. But what happened after that?

A sharp, searing pain blows through my body, starting from my neck all the way to my back. I cough violently, and my eyes water. My head throbs. I move my toes, and then my fingertips. Nothing appears to be broken.

I have to find someone and get help! I try and stand, but I’m too dizzy. The world seems to rush and spin around me, and the pain is too great to bear.

I collapse backward onto the ground, coughing and gagging. The billows of smoke swoop over me. I take a second to regain my bearings. I try standing again, but much slower this time. Managing to take two steps forward before I fall back down. It’s no use. I continue touching and prodding at my ear. I pull my fingers back to see wet blood coat them.

Two tall figures appear in the smoke and come running toward me. I blink several times, and my eyes settle. No, it’s just one running. I press my hand against my forehead trying to settle my balance. Golden eyes glowing clearly in the smoke meet mine.

A pair of large hands scoop me up and cradle me against a warm, hard chest. I am too tired and far too weak to disagree. I look up to see the alien looking down at me with great concern. He flicks his head up and shouts something.

The ringing in my ears grows louder. He runs forward until we’re clear of the billow of smoke. I am set gently on the ground. His ochre eyes shine as he stares at me. His white hair blows wildly around his face. Not one scratch has surfaced on his skin.

He speaks to me.

“I can’t hear!” I shout. I feel the dryness of my throat, hoarse and weak from all the smoke. He furrows his fine brows, then cups both my ears in his hands tightly and squeezes.

The pain I feel then is disarming. It feels like my head’s going to explode. Intense pressure builds and builds. My eyes water, and I scream. Then, as quickly as the pain came, it softens almost immediately into relief.

“Can you hear me?” he asks. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead. He pushes back his hair away from his face. His beauty remains undiminished, even in a situation like this.

I nod slowly. His deep worry for me throws me slightly off balance.

“What did you do to me?” I cough several more times. The rawness of my throat makes speaking difficult.

Instead of answering, he reaches behind his back and pulls something from his pocket. “Drink this. It will help you.” In his hand is a white flask. He opens and presses it against my lips.

The cold liquid is bitter and has the same languid texture as cough syrup, but the effects are immediate. It is as though the pain from my body is being sucked away. His steady eyes hold mine. I drink it all, and then he throws the flask to the wayside. The syrupy coating of the medicine eases my throat.

“What is that?” I ask. He breathes through his nose, and his eyes drift to the plume of smoke.

I see it, then: the wreckage of their ship, buried deep into the ground. Fires flicker around it. The once impressive space vehicle is nothing more than a heap of metal smashed into the ground of an empty desert. The shape is hardly recognizable.

“What happened?”

Yet again, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses his hand against his mouth, stroking the slight stubble on his sharp chin.

Sand so white, it looks like snow covers the earth for as far as I can see. My eyes cringe at the extreme brightness of it. The sun here is extraordinarily powerful.

Is this Omicron? No, it can’t be. Surely, there would be people here to greet us if it were. Nothing but sand surrounds us from all sides.

The ship lets out a groan, and a shower of sparks shoots out from it. How did I survive that? And how does he not have one cut? And what did he give me?

The pain has turned into nothing more than a slight ache. I stand up slowly. A gust of wind blows the smoke out into the sky.

The blue one wanders in the wreckage. His massive shoulders flex as he lifts a heavy piece of debris to the side. He bends over and picks some small boxes up, then places them in a cloth sack. They must be saving what they can.

“Mor, we don’t have much time. The Baromenian fleet could still be tracking us!”

Mor nods in response. The golden one’s eyes glance up toward the bright purplish sky.

“Where are we?” I ask him. He continues to ignore me, and I am growing angry and fearful. I am trying my best to keep my anxiety under control, but it rolls inside of me, and my hands are shaking.

“Hey, are you going to answer me?” I snap.

“Hey, are you ever going to trust me?” His neck turns, and his eyes find me. The bluntness of his tone makes me extremely uneasy.

I bite my tongue and do my best to not look away, but his stare burns through me.

Mor walks over. His eyes are tired, and his massive shoulders sag slightly. He says something under his breath, and they both look at me.

The golden one presses his lips together and shakes his head with a look of defeat. He turns to face the wrangled pieces of the ship and lets out a low groan.

“Fuck me. Fuck us. Fuck everything. Alright.” He nods. “This is just great, truly fantastic.” He pinches his nose between his fingers as he finds the words. “My name is Orien, and this—this is Mor. What’s your name?”

“Emily.”

“What was that?”

“Emily!” I shout.

“What kind of name is that?”

“Human.” Mor shrugs.

“Alright, Emily.” He says my name slowly. “It appears we’re taking a slight detour.”

“Slight?”

“Yes. We’re taking a very slight detour, and it’s extremely important that you listen to us, but mostly me.” His hand presses to his chiseled chest.

I roll my eyes.

“Because if you don’t listen to us, then you will most likely die. And if you die, we don’t get paid. Okay? And we really want to get paid.”

“Okay.”

A slight flicker appears in his eyes. “Great. Glad we got that out of the way.” He reaches a long hand out toward his friend, and Mor presses an item into them. In one swift movement, he latches white cuffs around my wrists, binding them together. The cuffs don’t hurt, but they tighten on their own, making it impossible for me to slide out of them.

Anger, exhaustion, and annoyance replace my fear and concern. The three of us almost died, and he’s still worried about me defying him! “This is completely ridiculous. You don’t need to restrain me like this.”

“Oh yes, I do.” He points to his nose as if that was my fault.

“You fell on your ass,” I snap back. I wriggle in the cuffs. They’re downright comfortable, and I start to wonder why he has them. Other thoughts about what he could do to me in these cuffs come unbidden, and my cheeks heat.

“Seriously, pervert,” I say, my face warm, “let me out of these.”

Orien narrows his eyes as though waiting for a translation. When it comes, he chuckles. “Now, now, this is just for our safety. I don’t want to get stabbed again. I admired your efforts, but I’m not down for a repeat performance.”

Mor’s eyes widen. “She attacked you?” He instantly moves in front of his friend.

I huff. “I thought I was being kidnapped. Arguably, I still am. This whole thing is so questionable, and I really don’t trust this king.”

The men exchange looks. “Neither do we,” Orien admits, “but we have a delivery fee.” He touches my chin softly with a hand to make me look at him. “And we’ll make sure you don’t get hurt, okay? If it goes bad, we’ll figure it out.”

Mor gives him a shocked look.

Orien stuffs his hands in his pockets and backs away from me. “Or something. Like I said, we’ll figure it out. I’m good at improvising.”

“You’re not the only one,” I shoot back.

He laughs again. “Nice try, princess. You think I’m going to fall for another kiss?”

Mor’s eyes widen with surprise. “You kissed her?” He groans.

“Oh, she kissed me. But she liked it.”

Orien’s answer embarrasses me.

My cheeks flare a bright red. I grit my teeth and jerk forward. Of course I liked the kiss; my body was pumping full of those chemicals. I can’t tell if I’m mad at him or mad at myself for getting so aroused by that stupid kiss. “I did not!”

“Of course—you would kiss her! You have no self-control.” Mor face-palms.

“I definitely have self-control. Believe me—if I didn’t, it would be more than just a kiss. But I stopped the minute she was uncomfortable.”

His eyes fall on me, and I suddenly feel exposed. I want him to do a lot more than kiss me.

“But she’s the future mate of King Ursen.” Mor groans.

“Not my king, not my problem. We should begin our journey.” Orien takes a look at me. A ghost of a smile passes his lips.

I’m still fuming. I have no idea if he’s joking or serious. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” I’m fed up with their secrecy, their caginess, and the way they’re going to just deliver me to this guy, sight unseen. Where’s my romantic marriage?

I want to be treated like a woman, not a furniture delivery!

“I don’t have time to explain this to you. Do you know how to fix that spaceship, human?” he taunts me.

“No way. But for that matter, if King Ursen wants me so badly, he should come get me! I don’t want to be delivered like—like a package. I wanted to see the universe!”

Orien gestures to the desert. “How’s it look? Boring? Okay, great. Now let’s go.”

“Uh-uh. Signal this King whatever and get a ride. He wants me so bad, he can come rescue me the old-fashioned way. Otherwise, I’m staying right here!” I stomp my foot.

“Very well,” says Orien. He appraises me for a moment, trying to decide the best way to handle my curves. He wraps his hands around my waist, throwing me over his broad shoulder. My upper half dangles over his back. One of his hands holds onto my ample ass for a split second and then moves to my leg.

“Put me down!” I shriek. I kick my legs and try to climb off him, but his grip is too strong. He laughs, a warm, hearty sound, but it just enrages me. My legs jerk harder, and I bang my fists into his solid back. He starts to walk, unperturbed by my thrashing.

The cool wind of the white desert whips over us, offering some relief from the hot sun. I look out as the ship buried deep in the ground slowly starts to grow smaller. The realization that I’m stuck on some foreign planet with these two strange aliens begins to sink in. There’s no escape. I’m completely on my own.

Anxiety and adrenaline take over. I’m just panicking. “Let me go!” My voice has turned into a scream.

“Would you like me to carry the human?” Mor asks, looking rather concerned.

“No—I got her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“I said, put me down!” My voice starts to quiver, and tears begin to run down my cheeks.

“Are you crying?” Orien asks, surprised.

“Please, let me walk on my own.” My voice is shaky and weak. My cheeks are burning, and tears spring from my eyes. I just want everything to be over and to go back home.

“Do you want to be put down? Will you be good, or will you throw a tantrum?” Orien asks.

He’s trying to be gentle, but I’ve completely lost it. Something inside of me snaps. The animalistic anger bubbling in my stomach unleashes itself in a frenzy of panic and rage. The tears stop immediately, and I bite him. I don’t even think about it, but I sink my teeth into his hard leather jacket, right down into his shoulder.

“Fucking three suns!” Orien yelps, ripping me away. He throws me down onto the white sand. My bottom hits it with a thud.

He grabs his shoulder and starts to laugh. He must be a psychopath—or maybe it’s me. I kind of feel like one myself.

“What, Orien?” Mor starts looking rather worried.

“She bit me! Aw, man.” He shakes his head and stares at me, completely unbothered by my action—but amused.

I wipe my mouth with my hand. I didn’t even draw blood, let alone make it through his stupid overly stylish jacket, which looks unreasonably sexy on him.

He sinks down to my level on the ground. “You are something special, aren’t you?” He’s kneeling across from me, inches from my face. He touches the bite mark on his jacket. “Do you know that I killed a man for this coat? And now it’s ruined. That’s disappointing. This is why you need to be tied up, Miss.” His fingers lightly brush away the last of my tears.

Then his hand grabs my face hard, pressing into my cheeks. “Listen to me very carefully.” His tone isn’t aggressive, but low and seductive, pulling me in. “I need you to stop acting out. Unfortunately, you need us to keep you alive. Unless you know exactly what’s out there on this planet, and you’re tough enough to survive in the wilderness, all on your own, you could die here pretty easily. Since you’ve never been off of Earth before, I think it would behoove you to settle the fuck down.”

“How do I know that you won’t leave me or rape me?” I can’t look away.

He steps back as if offended, disgusted. “I would never do either of those. Leave you, maybe. Rape you? Absolutely not. I would never dishonor someone that way.” He crouches down again, touches my cheek very gently. “Now, if you were willing, that would be another story.”

A stirring awakens in my stomach, and my body clenches. How does he do this to me?

He smiles a wicked grin. Then, with one jerk, he lifts me up onto his shoulder. The world flips upside down as my head dangles over his back.

God, his ass is amazing.

No, stop with those thoughts! He’s a horrible being.

He and Mor begin to chat as they start to walk farther into the white desert. With a slight delay, my translator picks up their words, and I hear their voices describing some nonsense with a gangster, a casino, some heist they pulled off.

Like it or not, I’m stuck with a pair of criminals. And tantrums and dramatics, apparently, won’t help me.

I take a deep breath. I have to get better control over my emotions if I want to survive.

The sun is beginning to set over the horizon. The sky is a brilliant blue and yellow over the desert, making the sunsets on Earth look boring. I wish I was in a position to enjoy it more, but I would do anything to be back home.

I think about my situation. Okay, I have two options here. I can either give up and marry this king, or I can try and escape. Both are equally horrible.

Orien’s hand tightens around my waist as he adjusts my position on his shoulder. His hand trails down my leg and grips the back part of my upper thigh, sending shivers down my spine. His touch is so warm. The heat spreads through my body.

Or—the idea that comes to me then excites me—I can try and seduce Orien and convince him to take me to Earth. He’s clearly attracted to me.

I’ve never really seduced anyone before. Josh was the closest thing to it, but that just kind of happened. This will be far trickier.

Orien is an alien. I’m sure his version of romance and sex is different in some ways, but he certainly reacted well to me before. However, I have to make sure that he doesn’t play me. He’s smart, but dangerous. This is different from things on stage. Not that I ever got a lot of leading roles—my curves kept me cast as a maid, sometimes a mother or governess, but never the leading lady.

I’ll have to keep him wanting but never satisfied.

“How are you holding up, human?” Orien’s question catches me off-guard. I wasn’t expecting him to talk to me.

“My name is Emily.”

“Right—right. How are you holding up, human Emily?”

I can’t believe he is teasing me like this. I decide to try a Shakespearean tone, try to be more queenly. After all, I’m going to be a queen in a few days or weeks, or whatever. “You do know that I’m the bride of a very powerful king? How do you think he’ll feel when he finds out that you two have treated his new wife horribly?”

Orien starts to laugh—not out loud, but I can feel his shoulders shaking, bouncing me up and down. I’m terribly aware of how deliciously muscled he is. “Why are you laughing?”

“You have a lot to learn. You think this is horrible?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“Then you humans are naive. Mor and I are the least of your worries.”

I take a deep breath. His shoulder is digging into my waist. “Do either of you have a plan?”

“Yeah—not to die.”

“Agreed,” Mor adds.

I hate how he never gives me answers. It’s just some game for his own personal entertainment. I am so full of rage that I want to kick him. He’s such a conceited, arrogant prick. I bite my tongue to hold myself back from saying that to his face.

“But we uh, we need a ship, and to get a ship, we need people,” he starts telling me. “I don’t see any out here. And with the ship in that state, we can’t even rig the communications array to send for one.”

“How long till we find someone?” I ask.

He shrugs, and my body bounces up with the movement. “Could be minutes, hours, even years. Who knows?”

I shudder when he says “years.” Is this really my fate? Marooned on a distant planet and left to potentially die out here? I refuse to believe it. “You’re taunting me. I don’t believe you.”

A clear, high whistle passes between Orien’s lips, the notes of a jolly little tune. “Believe it, Your Grace.”

I truly do hate him.