“Release me.” The low, rumbling voice soaked into my body like an electric current. Deep, utterly devoid of emotion or pain. The only indication the massive Warlord felt anything at all was the fact that he spoke through clenched teeth. His lips barely moved as he gave the order.
“Will you be able to stand without all that holding you up?” I stepped over one of the Hive bodies and circled the prisoner. I glanced at the large belts around his chest and waist. The chains attached to those ran along his spine and had been bolted to the ceiling. He was massive. I’d seen Atlans before, but this guy was incredible. Even torn and bloody, covered in burns and openwounds, there was no mistaking the underlying bone structure, the layers of muscle on top of muscle that flexed and pulsed with the slightest shift of his weight. He could probably bench press a car.
When I glanced up, I found him staring at me with an intensity that made my entire body go on high alert. Did he want to kill me? Or fuck me? I wasn’t sure. Either way, I couldn’t look away from those shocking gray eyes. His focused attention literally locked my feet in place. My heart raced faster than when the Hive shot at me. Every cell in my body buzzed with awareness. Interest. Raging curiosity and stark desire.
Who was this guy? How did he get here? I didn’t see any silver imbedded in his flesh, nor any gadgets or other Hive tech. Didn’t mean all that wasn’t on the inside. Didn’t see any remnants of a Coalition uniform, either. That didn’t mean anything. Hard to torture someone and cut them up this badly if they’re wearing body armor.
“Release me.” His command jolted me into motion, the deep timbre of his voice like hot silk stroking my overly sensitive nerves. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and offer comfort. Yes, I’d seen worse the last few years, but no fighter, warrior or Warlord we’d rescued on a ReCon mission had ever lookedthisbad and still beenconscious.
I inspected the restraints as Henry notified the commander that we did, indeed, have an Atlan on board, one who appeared to be lucid and cooperative.
“I am not Atlan.”
“What?” I lifted my eyes to inspect his square jaw, straight nose, the full lips I suddenly wanted to kiss. He looked like an Atlan. Which basically meant he looked like a super-sized human, even if his coloring was a bit off. No human had truly black hair like he did, deep space, no color, black as the abyss,black. I itched to run my fingers through the shoulder length strands, see if it was as soft as it looked.
The amount of damage done to what had to be one of the finest male specimens—of any species—I’d ever seen made nausea twist in my stomach. Damn shame. He was gorgeous. Big, which at almost six feet myself, I appreciated in a man. His dark olive skin tone was nearly as dark as my light brown. The thing that really made my body perk up and take notice was that he looked at least ten years older than me. Maybe twenty. This was a fuckingman.Mature. Knew his way around.
I wondered if that knowledge included how to properly sex-up a lady.
“Do I pass inspection?”
“What?” Oh shit. He totally caught me ogling him. I should have been mortified. Embarrassed. Not wet and ready, struggling to keep my brain on task despite a flood of mindless lust.
Our gazes locked, his gray eyes so intense and focused, words literally fell out of my head. I couldn’t form a single coherent thought.
“You look like an Atlan.” Henry’s bland observation saved me. Kind of. I was still staring into the alien’s eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Hard peaked nipples rubbed under my armor. I licked my lips. The action caught his attention, his gaze lowered, and I managed to break free of his hypnotic sex stare.
This guy was lethal to the libido. Not an Atlan? Then what the hell was he? How did he get here?
Why did his lips look so soft when the rest of him looked so…hard.
Holy shit.
I stumbled back a step. Blinked twice.
Were thosefangs?
2
Breanna
Yes.Those were fangs. Long. Sharp.
Were there vampires in outer space? How did I not know this?
“I am not Atlan. I am Astra Legion. Rogue 5.” His steady gaze caught me once more, held me frozen. There was no bullshit behind those light grey eyes. They stood out from his dark face like beacons from a lighthouse.
Rogue 5? That was the name of a moon orbiting the planet Hyperion, its inhabitants hybrid descendants of a crashed Coalition Fleet vessel and the planet’s native species. I hadn’t studied them, but gossip in Battlegroup Karter was that the local Hyperions made babies with the survivors of a Coalition ship that crashed on Hyperion hundreds of years ago. The native Hyperions had fangs, and their bite would inject something calledessenceinto their victims. What that essence was, I wasn’t sure and had no desire to find out. Venom, like a spider’s? Would his bite paralyze? Kill?
Suddenly the excessive number of chains attached to his body made perfect sense.
I wasn’t up on all the details, but as I understood things, Rogue 5 was basically a mafia, motorcycle club, organized crime hellhole operated by five rival Legions who dealt in everything from stolen weapons, to drugs, to slaves.
Not my kind of people. I’d dedicated my life to stopping guys like him.
“Release me. I am not an Atlan Warlord. I formally request sanctuary until such time as I can return to Rogue 5.” His words were crisp. Focused. Formal. If I were bleeding that badly, I doubted I’d be able to form an intelligible sentence, let alone demand legal protections.
“How long have you been here? Do you know?” I moved closer once more.
