They abruptly stopped and the door to her quarters opened. “Get in,” he commanded, pushing her inside. “You’ll be let out to prepare the men’s dinner. Beyond that, you will remain confined to your quarters for the rest of the day.”
Shalia watched him as he shut the door, trying to make eye contact one last time. She failed, and the door sealed tight without another word from the man.
She settled down on her cot and began slowly untangling her hair. It wasn’t bad, and it only took a minute to have it back to normal. The tingle on her scalp where he’d pulled her head backas he shoved her against the bulkhead made the whole event flash through her mind in a vividly graphic replay. Shalia and the biggest, baddest of her captors? That possibility had not even remotely been on her radar. And now?
She lay back on her cot, thoughts pinballing through her head. “Holy hell, what have I gotten myself into?”
It was a few hours later when one of the men came to let her out. She hadn’t napped—she was still far too wired from their encounter for that—but she had at least managed to relax somewhat.
“Let’s go.”
She hopped to her feet and followed him out. They were heading straight to the kitchen, she was glad to see. It looked like food prep was to be the last of her tasks today.
“What the fuck?” she blurted upon entering the kitchen space.
All of her carefully organized storage had been sloppily rearranged back to its previous inefficient layout. Whomever had done it had made one hell of a mess of it in the process. Shalia kept her thoughts to herself, plastering a smile on her face as best she could.
“Thanks. I’ll get right to it.”
The Dohrag grunted, shrugged, and walked off without another word. Shalia began cleaning up the workspace, doing what she could to start her prep without having to do another full rearranging. She knew better than that now. These guys were very stuck in their ways, and for anyone, especially a female prisoner, to upset that apple cart, it would clearly lead to more than a little conflict. And that was something she very much wanted to avoid.
“Okay, then. I guess we’re doing this the inefficient way after all,” she said, setting to work.
Once she got rolling the process was actually pretty fast, and by the time the diminished crew started rolling in for dinner she’d managed to scrape up a respectable meal. Was it as good as shecould have done had they not trashed her new setup? Not by a long shot. But the men seemed content with their food, and happy bellies meant less of a headache for Shalia. She’d tasted the food their crewmates had been preparing, and it was downright awful compared to what she was whipping up. It would be culinary self-preservation that would hopefully inspire them to leave her alone, if nothing else.
“Where ‘ya think you’re going?” Grallox slurred, blocking the exit. Fortunately, he didn’t knock over the tray in her hands.
The smell of alcohol on him was slight, but she could see it in the way he moved, the man had been drinking. More than that, his eyes had that glazed, bloodshot look. That, and a worrisome bit of lustful interest. With a few drinks in him, Grallox’s restraint was diminished, and that could be a very bad thing.
“I’m taking this to the commander, as he ordered,” she said, hoping using Valin as her excuse would get her out of this uncomfortable situation.
“He’s too good to eat with the rest of us, eh?”
“I couldn’t say. But he did make it very clear that I was supposed to bring him his dinner.” She watched the man’s inebriated brain process the information. “He did seem really busy working. I think he’s been at it nonstop since the shuttle crashed. Fixing that problem seems like his top priority.”
She didn’t know why she’d added that last bit. Was it true? Possibly. But whether or not that was the case, why was she protecting the commander? It had been impulsive. Worse, she didn’t actually know what he was doing in there. She just figured saying that would make Grallox step back. And, in that at least, she was correct.
“Well, get goin’ then.”
She nodded and hurried off down the corridor without another word. Grallox was going to be a problem, she just knew it. The question was, how and when would that manifest?
“Enter.”
She opened the door, slipping in and closing it behind her.She’d almost run to his quarters, the hairs on the back of her neck tingling as if Grallox or one of the others might be right behind her. She looked, of course, and there was no one there. But the threat was real, of that she was feeling quite certain.
“Your dinner,” she said, moving closer to place the tray before him.
She hadn’t even touched him, but his smell triggered something inside her, the pigment powering her runes sparking to life with a mind of its own. A warmth spread through her body, causing her pulse to quicken. Shalia leaned over him from the side and set the tray down, her breast grazing his shoulder. He twitched, the artery in his neck pounding hard enough for her to see.
“That is all. Get out,” he grumbled.
Shalia stepped back, her arousal mixed with painful confusion. Valin wouldn’t even look at her, but she could almost sense him straining not to. She turned to leave but noticed his tattoos were moving slightly once again. It was odd. That hadn’t been the case during their first encounter on the surface. Nor the one after that. But something had changed. What, however, she had no idea. These runes and pigments were all new to her. Alien, one might even say.
She headed out the door, hesitating as she closed it. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Valin’s only reply was a grunt, his eyes remaining fixed on the desk in front of him. The door shut and the troubling human gone, he finally let out an exasperated breath. Yes, he’d felt it too, but there was no way he would let this female disrupt his command. Not with so much on the line.
Valin dug in, eating his meal with gusto. He’d worked up quite an appetite. The reason, he realized a moment later, was the very same woman who’d just brought him his food.
