The Vilkas Secret

THE VILKA’S SECRET A SHIFTERS OF KLADUU SHORT STORY

PEARL FOXX

The Vilka’s Secret is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, place, or event is purely coincidental and not the intention of this collection. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the proper written permission of the appropriate copyright holder listed below, unless such copying is expressly permitted by federal and international copyright law. Permission must be obtained from the individual copyright owners identified herein. Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED The Vilka’s Secret copyright © 2017 Pearl Foxx

CONTENTS

Untitled 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

Maeve Noaz Maeve Noaz Maeve Noaz Maeve Noaz Noaz Maeve

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1

MAEVE

C

ursing around the food packet clenched between her teeth, Maeve Delgado juggled her thermos, a stack of vidscreens, and data chips as she shoved open the door to her lab with her hip. The door swung open, but the lid on her coffee popped off and black boiling liquid seared across her wrist. “¡Ya valió madre!” she cursed, dropping the toppling pile in her hands on the nearest workbench. She scrubbed her red wrist against the leg of her Zynthar International Space Station issue uniform. She’d unzipped the top and tied the arms around her waist. Her lab was closest to the station’s fuel reactors and thus hotter than a solar flare. Her white undershirt stuck to her back as she sat down at her monitor to review the most recent batch of data analysis from Saturn’s sector while sucking on her food packet and taking scalding sips of coffee. The tar-like liquid soothed her frayed nerves, and she forgave the divine liquid for trying to burn her alive. She shoved a mouthful of processed, unflavored food substitute in her mouth. It was grainy and mushy like oatmeal but without the flavor. Living in space really

sucked sometimes. A set of numbers on the screen pulled her attention, and she dropped the food packet on the desk. Goo leaked out over the desk, but she couldn’t take the time to care. The spatial dimensions within the rings of Saturn had changed. Something was warping the gravitational fields. My wormhole. Since the first anomaly on her astral charts appeared two years ago, Maeve had spent every night chasing a dream that no one in the entire fleet understood. She worked her usual shift as a lead astrophysicist and then holed up in this lab during the rest of her free time, watching the readings and picking apart the numbers. Quick showers and fresh overalls were the only reasons she visited her quarters these days. Her quixotic mission confused her superiors and left her in a constant state of sleep deprivation and over-caffeinated jittering. She knew the wormhole was out there. Tiny variations in the data she’d compiled suggested there was something out there, something no one knew about. No one but her. But this gravitational anomaly was something completely new, even to her. No known asteroids had entered the area, and no gas emissions from the planet had been recorded as high enough to affect the rings. It could be a solar storm, but Maeve hoped it was her wormhole warping the numbers. A tingling rush spider-walked down her spine. Analyzing data was better than any orgasm she’d ever had—not that she’d had many, but judging by the ones she’d had, data was way better. Maeve flipped through her screens before grabbing the oatmeal-stained stack of recyclable papers on her

desk. She was the only scientist on the station who still used hard copies, but she stood by her penchant for nostalgia; she even had a collection of old jazz records from a time before digital music even existed. She wiped the grimy reports off on her overalls, not even registering the mess. Her heart beat out of her chest, and her hands shook as she shoved a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. She pushed her glasses up her nose and flipped through the pages for the latest readouts from her wormhole’s sector. “Maeve Delgado,” her computer interface chirped. Startled, she dropped the stack of papers. They fluttered across the lab floor like a snowfall. She righted her thermos before it could spill across her keypad. Holding the comm button down, she replied, “Go for Delgado.” “Maeve, there you are!” her supervisor, Thom, barked through her speaker. “I’ve been calling your quarters all morning.” Maeve blinked. “Morning?” “Yes, morning. It’s five a.m. Are you still in your lab?” She’d been up all night again, it appeared. She bit her lip and glanced around her lab. The floor was covered in towering heaps of books and printouts. Vidscreens of all sizes and piles of data chips buried the benches. Her massive chalkscreen took up the entire back wall, and errant legible-only-to-her scribbles about her wormhole theories covered the surface. “I am,” she said cautiously. “I’ve been working on that report for you …” “Don’t lie. You’re terrible at it.” She grimaced, her elbow stuck to bits of sticky food remnants on her desk. She peeled her skin off and said, “Sorry, sir. But I think I really have something this time.”

Her gaze flashed back to the incoming data from the sector. “The climate near the rings is clear for the first time in months. The dimensions—” Thom made a sound in the back of his throat that caused static to burst through the speaker. “Not the wormhole again.” “I’ve got something, Thom.” Even as she watched the numbers roll in, she couldn’t believe it. This was what she’d been waiting for. This would change everything. “I need some time off to trace the numbers. I really think this is it.” “Sure it is. Just like it was the last time and the time before that.” Thom sighed. “I need you working on your assigned duties. The results of the latest drone data on extra-planetary resources are three weeks overdue, and we need to plan the next Falconer mission. You’re holding up the entire fleet for your personal crusade.” “But—” “No, Maeve. It has to stop. Now. I’ve put up with a lot over the last year, but I need those reports tonight or I’m going to have to knock you down to researcher. You know what that means?” Maeve’s stomach twisted. Thom had never threatened her with a demotion before. “Maeve?” He wanted to hear her say it. “A one-way ticket back to Earth,” she grumbled. “Exactly. I don’t want to send you away any more than you want to go, but I need you to take your job, your real job, the one you applied for that pays for your pie-in-thesky obsession, seriously.” She heard him speaking, but her eyes were following the numbers on her screen. She knew she’d said that before, but this data was it. “If I could just—” “Commander Gideon has already approved the

preliminary paperwork for your demotion.” Thom’s words stopped her data reading short. Commander Gideon had approved her departure from the station? “It’s not up to me anymore. You have the most brilliant mind on the station, but if you can’t focus on your work, we can’t use you up here.” The comm light went black, and Maeve was out of options. She was about to be fired. For real. “¡Qué poca madre!” She shoved back from her desk and paced away. The skin beneath her right eye twitched. A verified wormhole would change the face of the galaxy. What if it went to an unexplored quadrant of space? To heaps of new planets where the Falconer Elites could explore? The America Corporation would have countless options of extra-planetary minerals to buy mining rights to. Not to mention the discovery of other alien life forms. The Intergalactic Alliance of Planets and Lifeforms would have to be revised. Everything would change. Because of her wormhole. But she should finish Thom’s reports. She had all the data right on her desk. It would take a day, tops, to crunch the numbers and check the spectrometer reports against her extrapolated projections to make the best guess as to what minerals were on which planetoid. The data chips stared back at her. So did the blue lines of the wormhole’s gravitational anomaly. In the day it would take to finish Thom’s report, the climate near her wormhole might dissolve again. Maeve had zero doubts in her hypothesis. Too many strange things had happened in that sector of space: missing ships, solar flares from nowhere, uncharted

asteroid storms. The screen flashed and the blue lines moved again, wider and with a red symbol indicating a new source of orbital retraction. All thoughts of Thom’s reports forgotten, Maeve raced back to her desk and hunched over her keypad, her eyes racing to follow the incoming numbers. She queued up a quick extrapolation. Her breath caught in her chest as she waited, but an error popped up on her screen. Insufficient Data, it flashed. “What? No. No. No.” Maeve tried again but got the same error. She spun around in her chair and stared at her chalkscreen. She needed more data to run the extrapolation. The computer couldn’t do it on its own. She bit her lip, thinking. If she waited until the rest of the data ran, the anomaly would be inactive. Her data source would be limited. She could already hear the other astrophysicists pointing out the bias in her data set when she presented her proof of a wormhole. She needed more. If she was out there, right next to the anomaly as it happened, she could collect the data. But she wasn’t a pilot, and she’d never rope one into a covert space voyage to run some numbers. Of course, she’d taken basic flight training … What was she thinking? She shoved her hands through her hair. That training had happened in a simulator, not a real ship. Not to mention she would have to steal a ship to get out to the anomaly. She’d never gone this far before. Never crossed this line. But she’d never seen an anomaly like this before. She checked the time on her screen. It was almost the six a.m. shift change in the flight deck’s command center. It would be relatively quiet, running mostly on

autopilot as the late-night ships came in and out without any real schedule. No one would notice another ship leaving, and the early morning hours were the best time to slip past the guards and few engineers on deck. In theory, she could nick a ship without anyone questioning the departure too closely. Returning would be harder, but she’d have the data with her that proved the existence of a wormhole. No one would care about the stolen ship for too long in the face of a discovery that big. Across the room, the red symbol flashed again on her screen. “Fuck it,” Maeve declared, jumping to her feet. “I’m going.” She ripped the zipper of her overalls over her white tank, pushed her glasses up, and regathered her hair into a sloppy bun on top of her head. With a quick glance back at her lab, she slammed the door behind her and strode toward the Falconer landing field.

MAEVE STEPPED out of the airlift onto the fast-paced flight deck of the Falconer Elites. Every person who trained for a flight license aimed to get here. The Falconers didn’t just fly; they explored. They took off toward the stars and found new worlds for the America Corporation to mine for much-needed resources. Without the Falconers, there would be no life left on Earth, and space stations would be humanity’s only option. At the end of a row of ships to the side, Maeve spotted Jude Quincy. That woman had bigger balls than most of the Falconers, and she needed them since in a

week’s time she would take the final flight test to earn her wings and become the first official female Falconer pilot. Jude was doing exactly what Maeve dreamed of— making her own path, becoming something more than what other people assumed of her. That was why Maeve knew she had to get out there and find the wormhole while it was open. This was her chance to prove to her peers who dismissed her as just another dreamer that not only was she right, but she was also goddamn brilliant. Maeve slunk around the parked ships, watching the foot traffic and listening to the announcements from the command tower. As she’d suspected, the engineers on deck were too groggy to pay much attention to their surroundings. At the last ship in the row closest to the flight deck, Maeve climbed the steps to the ship’s top hatch. It opened with a hiss, and she climbed inside, settling into her pilot’s chair with giddy exhilaration. Hands shaking, she buckled the harness straps. “Just like in the sims,” she muttered to herself. “You will not crash into the deck’s ceiling and get arrested before you can even prove your wormhole is out there.” She flicked on the main power switch, lighting up the nav center of the ship and alerting the command tower that the ship was active. If she was going to get caught, it would be now. She rushed through the safety check, trusting the computers to tell her if anything was wrong, and coasted out to the flight deck, lining up with the strip and waiting for the light to turn green. “Command to Falconer 379, all systems go for space flight. You are cleared for takeoff.” The voice scared the crap out of Maeve, and she had to keep herself from yelping at the sound. She took a shaky breath and hit the comm button. “Falconer 379 to

Command, acknowledged. Beginning takeoff procedures now.” Maeve punched in the coordinates for Saturn and set the ship to autopilot. “See? You won’t even have to fly it,” she muttered to herself. “Come again, Falconer 379?” “Uh,” she stammered. “Disregard, Command.” Maeve turned up the throttle. The ship, built for speed and maneuverability, was small as far as space traveling ships went, but the sound of its reactors was deafening. Her seat vibrated with the mean growl of the machine. She flipped the sonic engine ignition and held on for dear life as the ship shot forward, through the landing strip, past the force fields maintaining the space station’s inner atmosphere, and into the empty blackness of space. No turning back now. The ship careened through space. Maeve had never been so close to the stars before, and she knew the flight simulations she’d taken to be certified wouldn’t come close to seeing her first love—space—in person. But she’d be damned if she opened her eyes. She kept them squeezed shut as the G-force pressed her deep into her seat and the nav system chirped redirections at her. Saturn’s rings approached faster than she’d expected. The ship slowed its momentum on its own and fell into an easy orbit around the gas planet. Maeve peeled open her eyes and promptly screamed. With joy. Saturn’s icy rings appeared so close that she could lean forward and touch them. The Enke and Keeler gaps between the multitude of rings stretched wide, inviting her closer like a lopsided smile. Keeping her distance from the planet’s orbit, she watched as the rings’ particles

rotated past the ship’s windshield. Even for all their technology and advancements, Saturn and its complicated system of rings remained a mystery to humans. It was more breathtaking than she ever could have imagined. Double-checking her coordinates against her handheld data-screen, she instructed the autopilot to align the ship toward the anomaly. The ship slowed down to match the velocity of the rotating planet. Squinting through her front windshield, she strained to see past the particles and moons and the gaseous planet’s flares. What would a wormhole look like to the naked eye? Surely forces that great would warp the space around it, draw down the waves of light, and ripple with the energy of the stars. Instead, she saw nothing but the icy mist of the planet’s rings. Her nav system chirped a proximity warning, but she overrode the autopilot’s attempt to retreat. The ship nudged forward and automatically dodged a small smattering of asteroids to dip beneath a ring. Maeve held her breath as the shattered debris of an asteroid swept by, inches from the nose of her ship. How in the world did the Falconers do loops through these rings at full speed on manual control alone? They had to be crazy. What had she been thinking to come out here? If she even touched one of these particles, her ship would blow apart. Jude Quincy might rocket through these gaps, but Maeve was just an astrophysicist. She should have been studying space from her desk, not the cockpit of a ship. “Command,” a disembodied voice from her speaker chirped. “We’ve got an unaccounted departure of Falconer ship number 379. Can you confirm your logs?” They knew. Maeve cursed. If she was going to get this

data, she had to go now, no matter how sweaty her palms were or how hard her heart was beating in her chest. She refused to let fear keep her from the greatest discovery of her career. She maneuvered closer to the planet and ignored the warnings emitting from the panel. Her ship shuddered and rotated slightly. She went to correct her alignment when a deep black void twisted into view. One moment it had been flat nothingness, and the next it yawned toward her like a vast butterfly net trying to swipe her out of the sky. The wormhole is two dimensional! That explained so much. Her indeterminate readings, the fluctuations in the data. Her sensors weren’t calibrated to expect only two dimensions. A bright white and blinding blue sheen highlighted one edge of the wormhole, and the rest was pitch black and merged into the planet’s atmosphere. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever imagined. Her wormhole. Maeve pounded on the armrests of her pilot’s chair, her face aching from her delirious smile. She let out a hoot of triumph. Moment of celebration over, she got down to the task of readjusting her sensors to consider two dimensions. The ship’s computer gathered data on the gravitational field and automatically adjusted to keep her out of range of the wormhole’s dangerous channel. She captured pictures and infrared imaging, all the while knowing that she was the first ever in human history to document a wormhole in actual space. No theories. No numbers. No equations deduced on a chalkboard. This was real life. This was— Deep within the black, something shimmered like a reflection on an oil slick.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her data collection temporarily forgotten. She tried to override the autopilot again, but the ship refused. Before she could overthink it, Maeve turned off the autopilot and took the steering column in hand. She inched the ship closer to the shimmering edge. The ship shuddered, sending Maeve rocking against her harness. Across the screen, green words read, Structural Integrity Threatened. The gravitational pull of the wormhole’s edge tugged her off course slightly, but Maeve jerked the ship back into alignment, overcorrecting only slightly and causing the ship to dip port side. That shimmer inside the wormhole looked familiar. She couldn’t leave without one more piece of data. The closer she got to the wormhole’s opening, the more focused the other side became. She gasped. The channel was far shorter than she could have predicted. It was barely the length of the flight deck back on the station. And she could make out a shape. The shape of another ship. Was someone in trouble? A Falconer perhaps on a practice run before their flight test? They were inside the wormhole. “¡No mames!” Maeve hit the speaker on her comm to hail the distressed vessel, but a blast of static filled her cabin. She was no Jude Quincy, but maybe she could get close enough to get the radio to work. She could call the command tower for help. “Command,” she tried again, speaking through the static. “This is—” Her ship swerved to the side. The nav system flashed

red. Structural Integrity Compromised, Maeve read as the lights dimmed. Red warning lights flashed all around her, filling the cabin as she felt the ship lurch in the other direction. The movement slammed her torso against the harness, her shoulders and stomach taking the brunt of the force. She fought for control of the steering column as it bucked against her grip. Cold dread inched through her bones. She was too terrified to scream. The ship swerved. She grabbed the edge of the dash and held on, completely letting go of the controls. With her free hand, she hit the comm’s speaker. “Help!” she shouted, her voice cracking with fear. “This is M-Maeve Delgado. I’m going down! Someone help! Please!” Her throat thickened with tears. “Please—” The ship twisted wing over wing into the wormhole. She saw a flash of white along the edge before the force slammed her hard against the straps. Her head smacked against the headrest, and a scream choked off in her throat. The shimmering edge of her wormhole was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

2

NOAZ

N

oaz observed the tiny human ship as it bounced around in the opening of the wormhole. Another human careening to their death. He’d seen it happen before. The gravitational pull of the wormhole entrance wasn’t something just anyone could maneuver through; it required a skill none of these human scavengers were capable of. Such a primitive race, he thought as he scanned for the inevitable distress signal. He’d jam the frequency and wait until the ship was torn apart before moving on to the next spot on his patrol of Kladian space. He switched on the open comm, listening to the emptiness of space until a voice called out for help. Help! This is M-Maeve Delgado. I’m going down! Someone help! Please! Noaz leaned forward. A woman? This wasn’t the usual military transmission of the Falconer Elites, and the voice wasn’t that of a trained pilot. It was filled with a kind of panic that he hadn’t expected. Not to mention the voice was female. Women, as far as he knew, didn’t fly Falconer ships. He’d always assumed the prejudice was just another example of human inferiority.

He jammed the transmission, ensuring it would never reach their space station. Instead of sitting back and waiting for the fireworks of the crashing ship, he maneuvered closer and played the transmission again over the comm speakers. The female pilot screamed and then silence. Was she dead already? All too easily, he imagined someone unconscious, bouncing around in their ship’s cabin, unaware of what was happening. He shouldn’t care, but that scream … It bothered him. She was the first female he’d heard out here, and he’d been out here a long time on patrol. Three years, to be exact. She could already be dead. He maneuvered his ship closer, avoiding the discordant threads of energy that bound the wormhole’s channel and kept the portal from collapsing into a supermassive black hole. The energy threads could flare at any moment, causing the channel to contract or pulse. Even brushing against one filament would be certain death. But he’d navigated this wormhole countless times before, and he knew it better than anyone. He let out a breath once he’d almost reached the other side. Her ship tilted to the side, beginning a spin toward the unstable edge of the opening. He paused, his hand on the controls. Just let her die. This wasn’t his business. Humans got what they deserved when they came this far out into space to pillage planets for their resources. He listened to the message again. Was he so lonely that merely a female’s voice would make him compromise his orders and his planet’s safety? Apparently so.

He slipped his patrol ship through the wormhole’s nexus and entered the human side of space. Warning signals blared and blue lights flashed on the control dash. Noaz lurched to the side as the edge threatened to pull him into its lure, but he’d done this before, more than once, when a ship had to be destroyed or risk exposing his people. Humans couldn’t be allowed to discover the precious relics on Kladuu. The relics that allowed its inhabitants to shape-shift into various animal forms. Instinctively, his Vilkan nature reacted to the fear in the female’s voice, and all Noaz could think was protect. Noaz hit the controls for his ship’s retrieval arm. It whirred from deep beneath his cargo hold. “Cargo in decompression, Corporal Noaz,” his ship’s AI chimed through the ship’s speakers. “Stop decompression.” Even as he issued the instruction, his ears popped. “The interior’s atmosphere is unstable—” “Did I ask about the interior? Stop decompression. We’re just going to open the exterior door in a second, and we need to conserve fuel.” “Fine by me. I’m just an AI who doesn’t need to breathe. It’s your funeral.” He regretted training his AI to talk back to him just so he’d have someone to argue with while he was up here patrolling. At the base of his windshield, the arm extended toward the Earthen ship. He’d grab her and pull her back through the wormhole with him. When it was safe, he’d retract her ship into his cargo bay. He’d never done this before, much less guided another ship through the perilous energy threads.

He had to hurry before one of the unstable threads decided to flare. The arm latched onto her ship’s nose with a magnetic jolt that rattled down the lever and into Noaz’s ship. “Connection secure,” the AI informed him. Rather haughtily, he thought. He grunted in acknowledgment. With tedious care, he reversed his ship, eyes locked on the lever’s hold on her ship. Halfway through the two-dimensional nexus, the Earthen ship dipped toward the edge. “Connection less than secure. Re-establish connection.” “Do it.” “Say please.” A thread of wild energy lashed across the female’s ship, singeing the metal and melting parts of the windshield and hatch. “Blessed Avilku, do it!” he shouted. The female had to be boiling in there. His Vilkan instincts reacted to her peril. Before he knew it, he’d partially shifted, his canines elongating and his nails sharpening into claws. His senses sharpened, heightened. All in response to some human woman he’d never even met. “Connection re-established.” Noaz redoubled his efforts. He increased his ship’s reversal speed and sent up a simple prayer to Avilku that he didn’t kill this female while trying to save her. Suddenly, her ship’s tail passed through the wormhole’s edge, and they drifted into open Kladian space. “Retract the arm,” he commanded the AI. “Activate auto-stabilizers. I’m going to the hold.”

“Recompression will need 9.4 seconds upon the foreign ship’s entrance.” “Just hurry.” “No need to get nasty, Corporal.” He rolled his eyes as he spun his chair around and strode from the cabin. At the hatch to his sub-deck hold, he grabbed a mask from beside the door and strapped it to his face. Clear Hylan glass descended over the front of his mouth and nose, deploying oxygen into his system. He latched on the retaining belt and locked into the retrieval cable before hitting the airlock door and stepping into the cargo hold. The airlock closed behind him with a suction of air. The exterior bay door opened, and Noaz’s feet left the ground, his belt keeping him from being pulled into space from the vacuum created. Mechanisms whirring and vibrating, the retrieval arm brought the Earthen ship into position. When the exterior bay door clanged home and his feet were back on the ship’s deck, the vents began recompression. Wasting no more time, he reached the ship’s hull, feeling the residual heat from the flare sear his skin. He tore through the human ship’s flimsy metal with his claws, creating an opening for his large body as his ship finished recompression and the cargo hold’s atmosphere returned to a breathable standard. Noaz unleashed from the retaining belt and hit the button on his mask to withdraw the glass so he could see into the dim interior of the small ship. Ducking, he climbed into the cockpit. Inside, a barely conscious woman with dark hair and blood caked on the side of her face blinked up at him, her long lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. She groaned. For a moment, he couldn’t move, stunned by her beauty and the richness of her feminine scent wafting off

her delicate skin. He’d definitely lost his mind. The obvious relief at his presence flooded her goldflecked brown eyes with tears. “My data,” she muttered. “Make sure …” As her words trailed off and she went limp in her chair, he forced himself to move. He reached for the straps of her harness as her eyes dipped closed. She fought against unconsciousness. How was she awake at all? Hopefully, she remembered nothing of her trip through the wormhole. If she did … He didn’t want to consider what that would mean. He’d killed plenty of humans for less. Unfathomably, her eyes opened again. “The data …” He released her chest strap and reached for her shoulder restraints. “Your data is fine,” he assured her just to keep her calm. But as his hand passed close to her cheek, her eyes widened, locked on the long claws. She aimed her all-too-knowing eyes on his, and he cursed, which only revealed his elongated Vilkan canines. “What the hell?” Fear flashed across her gaze. She brought her hands up to fight him off, but they fell back onto her lap, her head lolling to the side as she lost consciousness again. He lifted her as gently as he could and maneuvered his way out of the cramped ship. All sorts of thoughts ran through his mind, the most predominant one being that she was alive. Apparently, that mattered more to his animal half too, because right then, he didn’t care how many laws he’d broken. He just wanted to hear her speak, this time without fear, in person. His name preferably.

He shook his head, dislodging the ridiculous daydream. What was wrong with him? After he untangled himself from this mess, he needed to apply for some leave time so he could get laid by a hot Vilka back on Kladuu. “Open the cargo door,” he told the AI since his arms were full of delicate, soft-skinned female. She smelled of ship exhaust and something sweeter, something he imagined would taste divine if he licked her skin. “I’ve always wanted a pet,” the AI said. The door remained shut. “Don’t make me reprogram you,” he threatened. The door slid open with a whoosh. Scowling, he carried the female into the central space of his patrol ship. “Forgive me if I don’t know the protocols for bringing aboard a prisoner, but shall I alert your Beta?” “Not yet,” Noaz barked. “I’m going to question her first.” “Of course. Might I suggest you look human for the interrogation, then?” Growling, he shifted completely to his human form as they walked, hiding his Vilkan features. His AI had a good point, and he didn’t want to startle the female—another ridiculous thought. He should scare her, throw her out the airlock, let the open space freeze her and crush her into space dust. He should fix this mess before it got further out of hand. Instead, he gently sat her down on one of the benches in the main hold and looked around. How the fuck was he going to explain this to his Beta? This kind of thing lost soldiers their rank, if not their position in the clan. This kind of thing could get him exiled.

3

MAEVE

P

ain lanced through Maeve’s temples, jerking her from the hazy depths of unconsciousness. She groaned and pressed her hand against her head, where there was a sizeable, concerning lump. “Ow.” “It doesn’t smell serious,” a man reassured her, keeping his distance. “Smell?” She squinted up at the lights shining down from the ship’s roof to make out the blurry outline of her rescuer. “It’s just a cut.” Her eyes opened wider as they adjusted to the lighting. Even without her glasses, she made out enough of the man standing in front of her. Her breath evaporated. He was handsome, with a strong jaw, dark stubble, and a heavy brow framing those glacier blue eyes that she imagined could turn predatory in a flash. But instead of violence in them, she saw uneasiness. Perhaps even sadness. She wanted to ask what was wrong, run her hands through his shoulderlength, dirty blond hair, and kiss his eyes until they sparkled. But that was nonsense. How hard had she hit her head?

He was hot as hell for a white knight in shining armor who’d saved her ass from crashing into the wormhole. Her wormhole. Thoughts of his deliciousness evaporated as she asked in a spill of words, “Is the ship okay? The system wasn’t fried, was it? I need to check on my data. It all has to be there because I’m not taking any shit about bias in my data—” She tried to stand, but the deck of the ship tilted up to meet her. The man grabbed her arm before she faceplanted and helped her back onto the bench. “Your ship is in the cargo hold downstairs. The system looked fine when I pulled you in.” He raked a hand through his hair to shove it away from his face. As he moved, his shoulders and chest pressed against the tight material of his uniform, which glinted like silk beneath the ship’s lights. His hips were tapered, and the uniform hung looser down his legs, but not loose enough that Maeve couldn’t make out his bulging thigh muscles. She’d never seen a uniform like this back on the station, and if she had, she was pretty certain she would have remembered it. Realizing she’d been totally checking him out, she jerked her focus back up to his face. He smirked at her. Heat swarmed across her cheeks to the tips of her ears and down the back of her neck. “So, ah,” she fumbled. “You were the ship inside the wormhole?” His cocky expression from catching her staring at him faded, and he took his time answering as if he had to think about it. “I pulled you through before you hit the edge.” Maeve blinked. “Through? As in, through it?” “Yes.” Laughing a bit too loudly as if he’d said something funny, Maeve bounced the sole of her right boot against

the decking, her shoelaces making an incessant whooshing noise. “We’re not on the other side of it, are we?” He didn’t join in her laughter. If anything, he grew even more still, watching her, his eyes shadowed beneath lowered brows. When he didn’t answer, she decided it was a ridiculous question anyway. Of course, they were on the same side. No one had ever seen a wormhole before. A ship wouldn’t just fly through it for a good time. “Whew. Well, thanks for saving me. I guess technically I wasn’t the first to find a wormhole in space since you were, you know, already inside it. But we can share the credit, right? That would be really cool. How did you find it anyway? Are you a Falconer? I thought I knew all of them. I like to watch them taking off from the flight deck sometimes after a long night in my lab. What’s your name, anyway? I don’t think …” She tended to unspool words from her mouth in a stream of consciousness when she got nervous, and she was certainly growing nervous now. Her words trailing off, she glanced around, noting the ship’s interior. The glowing blue filaments provided soft, cool lighting above their heads with no discernible wiring to provide power. She brought a fingernail to her mouth and chewed on the edge as she took in the white material of the curved wall. It was a metal alloy, but she didn’t recognize it offhand. Beneath her jigging boot, the hum of the nearly silent engines running his ship was so unlike the raucous reactors of the ones at the station. She turned her gaze back to the man. The man who’d saved her, right? He stared at her, waiting, his silence growing intimidating. Why did he have to be so freaking good-looking? She struggled to focus.

“Noaz,” he said, making her start. “My name is Noaz.” She stopped bouncing her foot. “This isn’t one of our ships, is it?” “No.” She swallowed. Her nerves percolated into a solid tang of fear that she tasted in the back of her mouth. For a brief, horrible second, she thought she might puke. Thoughts of Z’hirblat raiders flooded her mind. Was this guy working for the enemy aliens? Was she on a flesh trader ship bound to some planet not governed by the Alliance’s treaty? Was she about to be sold to an extraterrestrial with tentacles instead of arms and a beak instead of a mouth? But the blond—Noaz—was human. At least, he looked it, and he spoke the America Corporation’s universal language that all life forms were expected to speak. Not to mention, the only humans this far out in space were on the space station. She thought back to her rescue. The blessed moment he’d pulled her from the steaming cockpit … using his claws. No, that wasn’t possible. She knew of no alien race with claws like that, and none of the aliens in the Intergalactic Alliance were humanoid. A sinking thought occurred to her. Son of a bitch. She stared at the floor instead of his face and asked, “We’re on the other side of the wormhole, aren’t we?” “We are.” “Shit.” Her heart flipped. She’d gone through a wormhole and emerged into another solar system. Perhaps another galaxy where the aliens were not only humanoid, but also tall and sexy and blond.

She smacked her forehead and instantly regretted it as pain from her head injury spliced through her temples. Tears sprung up across her blurry vision. “What’s your name?” Maeve swiped at the tears. “Why?” “I need to know what to call you.” It felt ominous, him needing to know her name. Her tears dried up, and something cold and hard clenched tight in her belly. He’d saved her from the wormhole. If he wanted her dead, he could have just let her crash. Unless he wanted something else. Something that required her to be alive to deliver it. It took all her courage to muster up two little words. “Maeve Delgado.” “Maeve,” he said, testing her name. It sounded softer on his lips than he’d likely intended. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she thought he’d spoken her name in the way of someone who didn’t plan on killing her or torturing her for information. “What do you want with me?” she asked. If her trembling fear did anything to soften him, he didn’t show it. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “How do you know about the wormhole?” “I’ve always known it was out here,” Maeve said, too nervous to think if telling the truth was the right thing to do. But truth and facts were the pillars that had held up her world for too long; she leaned on them now when she’d never felt more afraid. “I spotted an anomaly in my readings two years ago. It didn’t add up, so I kept looking until I knew.” She shrugged, helpless. Well, now she knew she was right. What had it gotten her? “That’s why you’re out here? To find the wormhole that will lead to new planets your people can mine?”

“No!” She gaped at him. He thought she was a Falconer? “I’m here because I’m a scientist, and I’m probably going to get fired because of it. No one ever believed there was a wormhole, and technically, I stole that ship downstairs. I’m just here for the data.” “And nothing more.” Maeve rolled her eyes to the ceiling, wishing she had her glasses so she could read his expressions better. “I’m an astrophysicist. I study the universe. I look for things no one has found before, not to send Falconers after them”—technically, that was part of her job, but she held that nugget of truth back—“but for the sake of discovering them. That’s all.” He dropped his crossed arms as if she’d surprised him, though it did little to soften his image. “But don’t you hold some responsibility for what those on your planet will do with the information you’ve discovered? Even if you’re solely curious about the science of the wormhole, others will use that information as a gateway.” Maeve frowned. She hadn’t thought about the usage of the wormhole beyond just finding it. All she’d wanted to do was prove its existence and see what was on the other side. She’d wanted to open doors and explore the possibilities of galaxies and universes unconceived. But of course, so would the Falconers. So would Commander Gideon. She had to admit Noaz had a point. “I never thought about it,” she admitted. His eyes flashed. “Rather naive, don’t you think?” “Now that you say it, yeah. Maybe. Sure. But don’t we have an obligation, once we’ve discovered something, to explore it?” “Not if exploring it means the disruption, or destruction, of an entire planet.”

Maeve flinched at the vehemence and belief in his words. “That’s why you were so close to the wormhole. Because you don’t trust us. You’re keeping us away on purpose.” “We’ve seen what you do to your galaxy. Why would you behave differently in ours?” Fine. He was good-looking and knew how to put together a compelling argument. But she didn’t need to be reminded of how impulsive she could be. She had her weekly calls with her mother for that. “Even if I did agree with you,” she said, reaching to push up her glasses before she remembered they were missing, “and I’m not saying I do, but I’m assuming I won’t ever make it back to my station with that data intact, considering how you feel about humans. If I even make it back at all.” Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence as the realization set in. Noaz remained silent as she collected herself and lifted her chin. “I’ll be the fool who believed in a wormhole. Not to mention a thief. I’ll be fired and returned to Earth or sent to jail.” Noaz angled his head in confusion. It was so human and familiar that Maeve could almost forget he was an entirely new alien race, and then he asked, “What’s jail?” “Prison? Like locked away as punishment.” He understood that. His jaw clenched, and a low sound vibrated in his chest. “They would put you in a cell just for trying to prove you were right?” “Technically they’ll put me in jail for stealing a ship. But I’d rather go to jail than have to live on the space station where no one believes me.” But she’d been right. The wormhole was real. Even now, sitting in front of this alien, on his ship, from the other side of the wormhole, she felt a tingle of discovery. It wasn’t quite as exuberant as one she would have

experienced from the safety of her lab, but it was there, teasing at the corners of her mouth. It had been real. The blinking white shimmering edge, the two-dimensional anomaly, the gravitational pull she’d never considered in all her calculations. An entirely new world on the other side. An entirely new sentient life form. A low staccato beep came from overhead. Noaz jumped like he’d been electrocuted, which shocked Maeve. Perhaps he hadn’t been as calm as she’d thought during his interrogation. “I have to answer that.” He took her arm and pulled her to her feet. She moved too fast, and her blurry vision couldn’t adjust. But before she could hit the deck, Noaz scooped her up in his arms. “Put me down,” she argued faintly for the principle of the matter. She really didn’t think she could stand right then, not with her brain trying to ooze from her ears. She could also confirm his muscles were real and not just advantageous padding in his uniform. They flexed with warmth through their clothing, and Maeve felt every step as he swept her across the central hold toward the back part of his ship. “You can stay in my quarters until I return. Don’t touch anything. Open living quarters hatch,” Noaz instructed. For a second, Maeve thought he was talking to her. Then a disembodied voice said, “Shall I answer Beta Rayner and say you’ll be just a moment and that you’re putting to bed a human prisoner?” “Who’s that?” Maeve asked, eyes wide. The hatch opened, motion sensor lights flicking on to illuminate the space. “My AI.” He carried her into the room and gently sat her down on a bed. To the lyrical feminine voice

overhead, he added, “Don’t answer anything. I’ll be to the bridge shortly.” Maeve had her lip caught between her teeth, and her thoughts were racing too quickly to catch. When he was almost at the door, she blurted out, “Are you going to kill me?” Noaz paused. He glanced back. But he was too far away for Maeve to read his reaction to her question clearly. She hoped his hesitation meant he was shocked that she would even think such a thing or, at least, that he was uncertain. Maybe she’d won him over with her nerdy intelligence and stellar smile. The beeping sounded again, louder this time, and Noaz left without answering. The hatch closed behind him.

4

NOAZ

N

oaz swung himself into the command chair on his ship’s bridge. He really didn’t want to talk to his Beta, Rayner, right now. The Vilkas’ second in command was a good guy, loyal to their Alpha, and someone you wanted on your side in a fight, but he was also a stickler for the rules, which didn’t bode well for the situation Noaz had found himself in. The low tone beeped again. What was he going to say? As if a tether was pulling him back to his living quarters, he glanced over his shoulder. She was on the other end of his ship, but he could still smell her as if she were right in front of him, fear clouding her scent, but also a hint of excitement and something sweeter, something Noaz couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was wonder or awe. It made him want to reach out and push a piece of loose, tangled dark hair away from her face to soothe her fear. But that wasn’t protocol. Not that any sort of protocol for taking aboard a human prisoner existed. If it had, Noaz guessed he’d be doing it entirely wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling, though. His instincts screamed that the girl wasn’t dangerous to Kladuu; she

was just excited. A scientist. That kind of thinking was something the Vilkas encouraged and celebrated in their clan. Of course, that thinking didn’t apply to humans, who had always been the enemy with their focus on stealing minerals and leaving behind ruined planets. But there was something about this female that didn’t seem like the savage destroyer of worlds he’d always been told humans were. Feelings and instincts aside, the hard fact remained that if he didn’t report her and the ship he’d brought on board, he would be punished. His thoughtless actions could not only put his career and his life in danger, but also his entire planet. “Suns above,” he cursed. He pressed the communicator and waited. He still didn’t know what he was going to say. A sliver of static came across the channel before Rayner’s voice said, “Noaz?” “Missions recap delayed due to a solar storm. Radiation levels leaked through the wormhole.” Noaz lied through his teeth and didn’t even care. He hadn’t planned on it, but now that it was out, he couldn’t go back. “Why the hell are you just sitting beside the wormhole? The tracking mod says you disappeared for a couple minutes. Did you go inside it?” “Yes, sir. Had to slip over to avoid a flare-up.” “I’m not reading any storm, Corporal.” “It’s sporadic, but I already had an isotope burst through the hull. The nanites have their work cut out fixing it. That’s why I’m not moving at the moment.” Noaz was a good soldier, a loyal clan member, and one of the only Vilkas willing to take on long-term solo missions.

Rayner was only a few years older than him and had grown up in the servant tunnels of their clan’s home the same way Noaz had. They had a good understanding of each other and mutual respect. The Beta would let this slide. Noaz wasn’t breaking that many orders. Yet. Plus, he needed more time to question Maeve. Her name melted in his mind, soothing his tense shoulders. How he handled her knowledge of the wormhole could be the difference between life and death for her, and just like when he’d risked pulling her back through the wormhole’s nexus, something told him in his gut she was worth the risk. “Get going as soon as you can and keep the ship’s cloaking on. We don’t need any of those Falconers seeing you on their scans while you’re that close to the opening.” “Yes, sir.” He signed off and double-checked his coordinates before standing. “She’s dangerous, Noaz.” His AI didn’t sound saucy this time, just worried. “I know,” he murmured. On his way back to his quarters and the human, he told himself he was still in control of the situation. Still in control of her.

5

MAEVE

M

aeve rolled to her side, her body melting into the soft mattress beneath her. She’d just meant to close her eyes for a second, but she had the vague sense she’d nodded off, that time had slipped by without her awareness. Lost and unaccounted for. Like her. She sat up on the bed, grateful her little nap had eased her dizziness. Beneath her, the bed was large and tucked away in the corner of the room like whoever slept here was less interested in the bed than he was in having a comfortable space to spend time in. The darker toned walls and cool air gave the room a relaxed feel. A porthole on the ship’s side showed a nebulous scene of space. Unlike the central hold, this room had cushions inset in the floor and a sprawling desk. Just normal enough to make her think she might be going crazy. But then her eyes caught on something abnormal, like the strange blue glow emitted from the walls themselves or tech screens scrolling unfamiliar scrawls of symbols she’d never seen before. “Get it together, Maeve,” she whispered. The living quarter’s door slid open with a gust of

compressed air, and he swaggered in. “You need sustenance,” he stated. Stopping at the end of the bed, he sat the tray down next to her. She didn’t bother looking at the food, even though her stomach growled with hunger. Why did his rugged face make her stomach dip like this? She had to have a concussion or something severe. Stockholm syndrome for sure. “I’m not having sex with you,” she blurted out. Noaz faltered. He went to shove his hair back from his face but then stopped, dropping his arm down to his side. “I bring you an offering of food, nothing else. It’s edible, but probably not what you’re—” “I mean, you know, like in the movies when the rogue captain tumbles into bed with the green-skinned alien seductress.” He stared at her open-mouthed. What looked like a blush dotted the skin beneath the stubble of his beard. But she’d started and now she couldn’t stop. This was why she preferred numbers over words. Numbers never did this to her, never made her nerves twist up in her belly and her fingertips tremble. Before she knew it, the words were running away from her. Again. “Or in all those cheesy science fiction romances where the alien abducts a sexy woman from Earth and makes her his mate, and they have awesome, unrealistic sex with his giant penis that has all sorts of perfectly aligned notches and nubs.” She kept talking despite mentally slamming her head against the wall and begging her mouth to stop moving. “And they, like, never actually do anything besides stay in bed all the time, having one orgasm after another. I mean, personally, I can’t imagine it. Can you? To have that many orgasms? Like, who has the time? But I guess if the aliens had

specially adapted penises perfect for pleasuring someone, then it might not be so much work.” “Ah,” he started. He was certainly blushing, and it only made her even more nervous. “Do you have a weirdly shaped penis?” She couldn’t help but look as if his uniform had suddenly spontaneously torn from his body. He coughed. “No. At least, I assume it’s normally shaped.” Her heart might beat straight out of her chest. Only she could have discovered a wormhole, been sucked through it, and been taken prisoner by an alien, only to die of mortification on his bed. She blinked up at him, tears swimming before her blurry vision. Noaz looked like he might reach out and take her hand, but he put his hands on his hips instead and looked around his quarters like the answer to dealing with a crazy human prisoner was written in the weird glowing lights. “Have you decided?” she whispered, still trembling, her body awash with embarrassment and fear. “Decided what?” “If you’re going to kill me.” He watched her lips form the words. Maeve stilled beneath his gaze, waiting for his answer. “No,” he finally said. “I won’t hurt you, Maeve.” “Oh. Okay. That’s good.” She nodded. “That’s really good. I don’t want to die.” Still nodding, the dam broke inside her, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She ducked her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. The bed dipped beside her, and Noaz’s warm presence burned against her side as he bundled her into his arms and simply hugged her. Without pausing to

consider her actions, she turned her face into his chest and finally felt the weight of her near-death experience in the wormhole. She’d come so close to never making another discovery again. When that passed, she cried because she’d made the greatest discovery of the century and couldn’t tell a single soul.

6

NOAZ

“She’s dangerous,” his AI had told him. Noaz had

known the sentient being nestled deep in his ship’s controls was right, but he hadn’t realized just how right she was until he was holding a crying Maeve. Knowing he would say something foolish, he kept his mouth screwed shut and his arms unmoving around her. He didn’t even allow the slightest shift of his head to nestle his nose deep in her hair; her scent was already strong enough in his head. So much so that he felt it convoluting his every thought as if he had to think through a filter solely comprised of the beautiful Maeve Delgado. It was ridiculous, and he concluded he’d spent far too much time in space. When Maeve’s tears had dried up and he’d held her a beat longer than necessary, he sat back, giving her some room. She sniffled and cleaned up her face. Not knowing what else to do, he moved the tray of nutri-muffins closer to her. “You should eat,” he suggested. “You’ll feel better.” “Thank you,” she said, a blush peeking atop her round cheeks. She tended to hide behind a veil of her

hair, and she retreated there now and picked up a muffin. She tasted it, the tip of her pink tongue testing the texture. Gritting his teeth, Noaz looked away. He could imagine all too well what her tongue felt like. “It’s better than the food packets we have back at the station,” Maeve said with a voice left scratchy from her tears. He recognized her attempt to start a conversation, to stir this horrible debacle away from their previous conversation of her death. As if he could have hurt her. As if he hadn’t known, while walking to answer Rayner’s call, that he was going to lie to his Beta. That he was going to break Kladuu’s greatest law. He was protecting this small female, and he’d known since the moment he went after her ship in the wormhole. His pretending otherwise had only led to her terrified, tearful breakdown. “Maeve,” he said as she tore off another chunk of muffin and hungrily shoved it into her mouth, “you can never tell anyone about the wormhole.” She paused in her chewing to meet his eyes. Dipping her face away, she finished her bite and swallowed. “I figured as much.” He smelled no guilt or shame on her as she spoke, just her sweet scent and the fading bitter hint of fear. He believed she was telling the truth. For now, her words alone would do. “Where are you from?” she asked, moving on to the second muffin. Her question punctuated his own guilt. With a few words, she could tear apart his home. She could send Falconers and Raiders, miners and men with round bellies who promised fair prices for resources but left

behind a planet in ruin. He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.” “Okay,” she said, easily accepting his answer. She spoke louder now, more calmly, as she ate. The remnants of her tears had cleared from her face, and she offered him a small, brave smile. “Can you tell me what I saw when you rescued me? Did you really have claws and fangs?” He cursed himself. He’d been reckless in his rush to save her, and she was smart enough to trust what she’d seen. “I did,” he said carefully. He wanted to stop there, but the words were out of his mouth before he even realized. “Where I’m from, they call my kind Vilkas.” “Vilkas.” She spoke the word until it flowed easily from her lips. “There are more like you?” When he nodded in answer, she studied his hands and his obvious lack of claws. “So, you can shape-shift? Like, change into a … a Vilka?” Too smart, he realized too late. And he was too stupid around her to make decent decisions. Almost more so than the location of Kladuu, the clans’ ability to shapeshift into various animal forms was a secret most important to keep from the humans. What would they do to a planet full of warrior aliens who possessed the ability to change forms? Or when they learned of the relics deep in the planet? She opened her mouth to press her point, to ask more damning questions. To distract her—and himself—he took her hand. She closed her mouth, her eyes on their hands. All over again, he was struck by her softness and the smoothness of her skin. He cradled her hand and turned it over to examine her tiny fingers. She wasn’t so different in shape from Vilkan females, but what he felt when he

touched her was worlds apart. He’d never experienced anything like it before. “Are all human women like you?” he asked. “No women are like me.” Maeve let out a huff, but she didn’t pull her hand away. “Not that I know very many people to compare myself to.” He cocked his head in thought. “You work alone?” “Yeah.” With her free hand, she gestured around them. “You fly alone.” “Yes.” She studied him closely, uncovering his secrets without him even uttering a word. “That must get lonely quickly.” “I prefer it this way. Fewer … complications.” “Until me.” “You are most definitely a complication.” He frowned and dropped her hand, leaning back to put some muchneeded space between them. She sat aside the empty tray and crossed her legs to settle in. “You don’t have to tell me where it is, but can you tell me about your home?” What could it hurt to give her a few details? Nothing specific. Nothing that anyone could trace back to Kladuu. And he wanted to. He wanted to tell her. Almost as much as he wanted to hold her hand again. “Where I live,” he said, piecing the words together like delicate threads, “it’s dangerous and harsh, but it’s also beautiful. Fresh water runs in underground streams, bubbling up into natural springs. The air is clean, and even though there are dangerous creatures, the jungles are lush and full of life.” Lost in his memories, he hadn’t noticed that she’d scooted closer. She placed a hand on his knee, light and warm. He shifted his weight toward her, and her hand

slid a little farther up his thigh. She didn’t move it. “Why do you live in space if you love it there so much?” There were a million different reasons, but in the end, he simply said the single, greatest truth. “I don’t fit in particularly well.” She sighed. “I know that feeling.” “I doubt that,” he scoffed. “Beautiful females have no problem finding friends where I’m from. It’s likely no different on Earth.” Maeve barked out a laugh. “Ha! Yeah. No. I mean, that’s not … First of all, I’m not beautiful. Like, I’m staring at you, but you’re fuzzy. I lost my glasses somewhere on my ship. Men don’t care much for the nerdy types.” He didn’t know what a “nerdy type” was, but if it was her, she was the best type of all. “Then human men are stupider than I thought. You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen.” Maeve stilled, her gaze boring into his. Don’t do it, idiot, he heard his AI say just as loudly as if she’d actually spoken. They spent so much time together that he heard her in his head more often than not. And she was screaming at him now. He leaned toward Maeve, his eyes on her mouth. There was no going back now.

7

MAEVE

M

aeve licked her lips and was rewarded with a deep rumble from Noaz’s chest. He closed the distance between them, and when their lips touched, a vibrant heat spread through her body, starting from her lips and seeping deep into her bones. Noaz wrapped his long arm around her waist and hoisted her into his lap. A bold move that Maeve appreciated, considering she straddled him now and could finally run her hands across his shoulders, feeling the barely contained strength beneath the thin fabric. His lips moved down her neck, sucking her flesh into his mouth and dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin. She gasped, and his hands tightened on her waist. She pushed her fingers into his hair and held on tight. He brought his mouth back to hers and claimed her with another searing kiss. She pressed against him, pushing him back against the bed’s pillows and rocking her hips against his crotch, desperate to feel more of his heat against her core. She gasped, feeling his very large, very hard cock between her legs.

He laughed against her mouth. “Now who’s the greenskinned alien seductress?” “Please tell me you’ve got a few exciting nubs down there.” She dipped her head and kissed along his stubbled jaw, holding him in place against her mouth with her grip in his hair. He laughed again, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her. Goosebumps prickled along her arms. “I won’t disappoint, Maeve.” The whispered promise in her ear made her shudder. Instantly, she was soaked and aching. He released her waist and reached up to the neckline of her shirt. The fabric ripping filled the air, and a cold breeze whooshed across the tops of her breasts as her shirt ripped down the middle. He leaned her back so he could stare at the curving swells over her bra. He cupped her, his thumb stroking the edge of the cotton barely containing her breasts. She barely filled his hand, his fingers skimming across her skin in the gentlest of touches, his eyes unblinking with wonder when he met her gaze again. “You’re so beautiful.” The low rumble of his voice undid her. Desperate to feel his hands against her flesh, she reached back and unclipped her bra, tugging the straps off her shoulder and letting the fabric fall away, exposing herself to him. The muscle along Noaz’s jaw twitched again. He dragged his thumb around her nipple, circling and circling until she pebbled against his touch. She threw her head back as he lowered his mouth, flicking the tip of his tongue against her nipple, first one and then the other, with the faintest skim of his teeth. She squirmed against him, wanting to feel more skin, more heat, more anything, but he held her hips against

his, keeping her in place as he worshiped her breasts. She groaned. Her core pulsed with need. She’d never wanted anyone this much in her life, and if he wasn’t inside her soon, she might explode from desire alone. Death by lust. It would make a good band name. He sucked and licked at her, pulling her nipple deep into his mouth and massaging the other breast with one hand, moving back and forth until she couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and her pleasure began. When she couldn’t take his attention any longer, she pushed against his shoulder. He straightened away from her, a lock of blond hair falling across his forehead, his blue eyes shining with desire. He watched her, his lips shining with moisture, as she rose from the cushions. She discarded the ruined remains of her shirt. After untying the knot she’d made with the arms of her uniform, she pushed it down her hips and let it pool at her feet. She stepped out of her clothes and closer to Noaz, his focus locked on the simple white panties she wore. He hooked a finger beneath the band, and tugged them down. The sight of her nakedness pulled a primal groan from his chest that sent shivers through her body, and she clenched her thighs together tightly. After she’d barely stepped free of her panties, he lifted her into the air and set her down against the cushions, his massive body above her. She let out a nervous little laugh as he leaned back, jerking at the clasps of his flight suit. “Is this the part where the terrifying alien captain ravages his wanton female hostage?” Noaz finally ripped his suit open. “This is the part,” he said, pulling his arms free and revealing a bronze chest

with small, pink nipples and thickly corded muscles, “where you spread your legs and scream my name.” “That’s where you’re wrong.” She watched him begin to push his suit down from his hips. “I’m not a screamer.” He got his pants down and his cock sprang up against his belly, massively long and swollen with a glistening bead on the head. Maeve’s lighthearted humor dried up in her throat at the sight. He was huge. Noaz registered her gaping attention with a cool smirk. “You will be,” he promised.

8

NOAZ

N

oaz smelled Maeve’s desire for him. It hung thick in the air, clouding his thoughts and coating his tongue. Nothing in the galaxy, not even on Kladuu, had ever smelled so good. He hooked her knee under his arm and pushed it to the side, using his leg to push aside the other. Her folds glinted with moisture, wet and ready for him. The sight of her bared to him, under him, arching her back with need, made his cock ache. He stroked a hand down his cock and positioned himself at her entrance. He could already tell she was going to be tight. He looked up at her, past her heaving breasts to her wide eyes, as she watched him prepare to take her. “Please,” she panted. “I need you inside me.” But he needed to know for sure before he hurt her. A human might be too small for him. He’d never been with one to know for sure. He reached between them and ran a finger over her wet, warm folds. She gasped, her hips bucking. “Noaz!” He cocked a brow and glanced back up at her. “That was almost a scream.”

She flopped back against the cushions, her arm thrown over her eyes. “This is going to kill me. I can already tell.” “No,” he said, his focus back on her core. He stroked her again, finding her tight entrance. He pushed inside, and Maeve very nearly screamed again. She was tight, just as he’d expected. And so very wet and warm. Her body contracted around him as he slid in another finger, pushing deeper inside her. Testing her. Stretching her. “No,” he repeated, his voice tight in his throat, “but you will be very sore.” “Holy fucking shit,” she moaned against her arm. As she spoke, her walls clenched around his fingers, squeezing him as he slid his fingers in and out of her, reveling in the sheer heat pouring out of her. “What do you call this place where I will fill you?” She pulled her arm away to look at him. A red flush spread across her cheeks. “Ah.” She cleared her throat and mumbled something Noaz couldn’t quite make out. “What was that?” He added a third finger inside her and was rewarded by her pressing down against him, riding his hand. “My pussy,” she groaned. “It’s my pussy. And I need you in it, like, yesterday.” He pulled his fingers from her. With a mewl of protest, she glared at him, but her eyes stretched wide as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked each one clean. “You’re beautiful, Maeve, and you taste amazing.” “And to think I thought data analysis was better than an orgasm,” she breathed out, her mouth hanging open. Holding on to her waist to keep her hips lifted, he guided his cock to her entrance with his other hand. “You’re going to scream for me when you come.” He eased inside her, long and slow. Each stroke

drove him further insane as he fought to hold back. He needed to go slow and stay in control. He needed to make sure he didn’t hurt her. Her back arched even more, and he gripped her tight, watching in awe as she took every inch of him, a blush spreading across her breasts and up her neck. She raised her arms over her head and grabbed the cushions behind her. He pulled out and slowly slid inside again just to feel her stretch around him. His control lasted only a few more strokes before he released her hips to lean over her, bracing his arms on either side of her face. She stared up at him and hooked her legs around his hips. He filled her again. All at once. With one powerful thrust that took him even deeper with her legs cinched around him. She screamed his name loud enough that he thought the portholes might have rattled. “Your pussy is tight. So perfect.” He pumped into her, words of adoration spilling off his tongue. None of them did her justice. Did justice to her body or this feeling he got deep in his chest, where his Vilkan heart lay when he buried himself in her. “Harder,” she gasped. Her arms banded around his back, her nails digging deep into his skin. “Fuck me harder, Noaz.” He hooked his arm around her neck and latched her body to his. Then he lost himself in her. In the powerful, unrelenting rhythm of filling her. She dragged her hands through his hair and brought her mouth to his, kissing him in between her ragged breaths. When she came for him, she screamed again, her inner muscles squeezing him in tight spasms. Her hips bucked up against him, pulling his cock deeper inside

her with a tight clutch. She scraped his skin with her nails as she rode out the waves of her climax, her head craned back. His name rode off her mouth in raspy, breathless pants. Seeing her total abandon beneath him sent him over the edge a breath later. He surged into her one last time before spilling deep inside her. A howl ripped from his throat, and without thinking, he allowed his canines to descend as his vision blacked out for a moment and returned with a flash of brilliant white. When her tight pussy had taken every last drop, he lowered himself carefully on top of her as he struggled to catch his breath and regain his composure. Her soft body wrapped around him was the closest thing to the Great Beyond he’d ever experienced. He’d been with a handful of Vilkan females, but none had been like Maeve. Nothing was even close to this feeling with her. She smiled up at him with a lazy curve to her lips, her eyes closed. Dark locks twisted around her head. “I screamed for you.” Her satisfied, slightly slurred words had him hardening again. Her eyes sprang open in surprise. But he leaned back, sweat rolling down his chest, and looked between them where he remained deeply seated inside her. He stroked his fingers between them and slipped them down to her folds until he found the small bundle of nerves he’d felt earlier. Maeve’s hips jerked, and he hissed as her pussy pulled him in deeper, her walls clenching him tightly. “Please,” she managed to say. “Don’t stop.” She writhed beneath him as he teased her clit. Her hips moved in time with his finger, riding his cock as if she couldn’t get enough of him, as if she just needed to

feel him. He felt she was close again already as her tight muscles closed around him again. He smirked down at her. “I don’t intend to.”

9

NOAZ

N

oaz woke in his bed with Maeve curled against his side, tucked perfectly in the space beneath his arm. He rolled over to put his chest to her back and pulled her tighter against him. She murmured in her sleep but didn’t wake. He’d taken her many times, in many positions—most of which she’d demanded and he’d been all too happy to oblige—and when she’d gone limp in his arms from exhaustion, he’d used his mouth on her. He’d been delighted to find she liked his tongue on her clit just as much as his fingers. He’d left her only to grab them food and set the ship on an autopilot course in a slow back-and-forth pass along either side of the wormhole’s entrance. A quick check of the time showed he’d slept nearly eight hours. He hadn’t even had Maeve on board for a full twenty-four hours, and he felt as if he’d been irrevocably changed by their brief time together. Lost in the passion between them, he’d easily ignored his lies to Rayner and the issue of her knowledge. Not to mention what she’d seen and what he’d freely told her. If anyone from Kladuu knew how much information she

had, she wouldn’t be safe. Unless he returned her home. His heart twisted painfully at the thought. It went against everything he thought he knew to put her back where he’d found her. But she couldn’t stay with him, no matter how much he tried to figure out a way. If he brought her back to Kladuu, she wouldn’t be close to the stars that fascinated her so. Vilkan females lived deep within a hollowed mountain on the planet to stay protected from the warring clans on the surface. Aside from the fact that a human would never be accepted by his clan, just imagining Maeve beneath that much rock, unable to see the sky, tortured him. She would hate it, and he would have to watch her each day, knowing that he’d stolen the one thing she loved just so he could have her beside him. He couldn’t do that to her. She stirred, shifting her velvety skin against his side. Sweeping her hair back from her face, she rolled over and smiled up at him. “I need my glasses,” she mumbled. He grimaced. “Your vision enhancers are most likely shattered to bits in that tin can you call a space ship.” “I was going to say I needed them so I could see more clearly how handsome you are, but since you insulted my ship, you can just kiss my ass.” He grinned, wicked thoughts spreading from his mind straight down to his cock. “I think I did that already.” A sweet blush spread across her cheeks. “Hmm, well, maybe. What were you thinking about so hard a minute ago?” “How did you know?” She rubbed her finger down the middle of his forehead, between his eyebrows, to smooth the lines she found there. “You were frowning, and your eyes looked

sad again.” He took a deep breath and told himself he was strong enough to put her back where he’d found her. “Do you remember when you told me you would be fired if you returned to the station empty-handed and in a stolen ship?” She rolled her beautiful gold-flecked eyes. “All too clearly.” “What if I said I might be able to keep you from getting fired?” She perked up, and he rushed to clarify his plan. “I can’t let you have the wormhole data, but I could give you something else. Something your superiors would be interested in.” It was her turn to frown. “But nothing that would lead them back to you and your planet, right?” His chest ached. She was trying to protect him. Her intentions made his heart swell with such happiness, such need for her, that he almost wavered in his resolve to do the right thing by her. Maybe they could live in the ship and fly through the stars together. He dismissed the thought. This was no life for Maeve, and his people would never allow a human to have such free rein. “No. Nothing like that.” “What is it?” He leaned down and kissed her. He’d never get his fill of her mouth against his, but he forced himself to pull away after a long moment. “Get dressed and I’ll show you.”

10

MAEVE

“ W hat is this?”

Maeve rotated the fist-sized crystal in her hand. It glowed ever so slightly, its edges soft and rounded. Deep within it, a crimson-colored nugget seemed to pulse against her palm. She had to drag her eyes back up to Noaz’s when he said, “I found it in an asteroid field rotating near the wormhole. All the asteroids were covered in them. This is the sort of thing your people hunt for, right?” Maeve had no idea what the crystal was, but it was something. Thom and Commander Gideon would salivate to feel its heat and the heartbeat-like thump from within it. “They would go crazy for it.” “Is it enough to keep you from getting fired even after stealing a ship?” His mouth twitched into an almost smile at the words. “I’d probably get a promotion.” At least. If not two. And a nice pay raise that could afford her some better equipment in her lab to study the crystal. And the wormhole, although that would be just for her and never to be shared with anyone else. Noaz gave a sharp nod as if that decided it. “Take it

with you. Show it to them. Tell them it came from an asteroid orbiting Saturn. It’ll explain your proximity to the planet.” But Maeve hadn’t heard anything after he’d said, “Take it with you.” She was leaving. He was letting her leave. But did she even want to? “You’re letting me go?” He took her face in his hands and leaned down close to her, close enough that, even without her glasses, she could make out every trace of color in his ice-blue eyes. “I’ll bring you and your ship back through the wormhole. You’ll have disappeared from your station’s tracking devices when we came onto this side, but they’ll think it was the planet’s rings interfering with the signal.” Maeve nodded numbly. “They always have problems around Saturn. It’s a real bitch.” Smiling fully now, he planted a quick kiss on her lips before releasing her. She had to force herself not to lean back into him. “Once you’re on the other side, they’ll pick your signal back up. Your communicator array is broken, but the signal will be strong enough that they will see you and come for you, especially because your boss has likely reported you missing by now.” “Yeah,” she mumbled. “They’re all looking for a thief.” He took her hand and closed it around the crystal she held. “This is your ticket, okay? Don’t let them threaten you. I’ve never seen anything like this in all my years out here. It’s special.” Traitorous tears threatened at the back of her eyes. This was what she’d wanted, to return home, so why then did it hurt so badly to think about? “Is my ship even running?” He dipped his chin. “My nanites got it working while we …” His eyes glittered with the memories of their time

together. Maeve blushed, feeling an echoing hum of tightness deep inside her body. “Anyway, it’s fixed enough for you to be towed home. I’ll keep an eye on you.” “They won’t see you, right?” Fear spiked at the thought of Commander Gideon getting his hands on a life form like Noaz. He was too special, too good. It couldn’t happen. “Don’t worry about me. My ship has cloaking tech. No one will see me.” “You promise?” He smiled. “I vow it.” She took a deep breath. For a moment, she stared at the crystal in her hands. Was it enough? Not to keep her from being arrested, but enough to leave Noaz behind? She wouldn’t take home the wormhole data, but she had this. And the knowledge that she was right. But was it enough? Had she found more in this patrol ship than she had in all her late nights of studying data, collecting and analyzing, putting together reports for Falconer exploration missions? The answer was yes. So very much so yes. Noaz kicked studying data’s ass any day. Her fist tightened around the crystal in resolve. She looked back up at him. He was the best solution she’d ever discovered. And because of that, she’d do everything she could to protect him and his planet. He took the resolve in her eyes as her wanting to stay. “Maeve, you have to go—” “I know.” She pocketed the crystal in her tattered Zynthar uniform. “I have to go to keep you safe.” He shook his head, still not understanding. “I know you won’t tell anyone. I trust you. I trust you with my life and my peoples’ lives.”

There were those damned tears again. She shoved them away. “No, I mean I put together all the Falconers’ missions. I analyze all the final data for their reports on where they should explore next. I can keep them away from you. I can keep them away from your planet.” He cocked his head, studying her as he had when he’d first carried her on board and she’d opened up a deluge of questions. Before she could explain further, he pulled her to him, enveloping her in his embrace and kissing her so deeply, so completely that she thought his ship had fallen out of orbit and was spinning out of control. But it was just her. Just his effect on her. Still recovering, she smiled woozily up at him. “What was that for?” “Kladuu,” he breathed out like his greatest promise, his deepest vow. “My planet’s name is Kladuu.” She shook her head when she realized what he was saying, what he was doing. “Noaz, don’t! I don’t want to know.” But he just smiled at her, his eyes happy and bright. “I trust you completely, Maeve. I want you to know the name of the place you’re protecting. I want you to know the name of my home.” She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They tumbled down her cheeks, but she grinned up at him, her arms wrapping around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his chest as he hugged her. Against her hair, he pressed a lingering kiss. “We need to get you out there,” he said quietly as if he might break the spell. She squeezed him harder, and then a thought occurred to her. “You said your ship has cloaking tech?” He leaned back to look down at her. “Yes?” “It completely hides you from detection on the radar?”

He nodded, uncertain what she was asking. Her grin ratcheted up a notch, and her heart hitched with happiness. “Then maybe the next time you pass by the wormhole, you can come pick me up. We can go for a ride around the galaxy again.” Laughter rumbled deep in his chest, and she reveled in the sound, the feeling. He kissed her again. Thoroughly. Completely. But it wasn’t goodbye. Not even close.

Get The Vilka’s Servant Book One in The Shifters of Kladuu series now on Amazon Available in KU The Vilka’s Servant

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Pearl Foxx is the author of epic space adventures with steamy romance you will never want to stop reading. Join in the fun at www.PearlFoxx.com. Get The Vilka’s Servant Book One in The Shifters of Kladuu series now on Amazon Available in KU The Vilka’s Servant