There's something in the way Jules looks at the Gehrt, something that stirs a strange protective instinct within me that has nothing to do with my sivot and it’s not just for her, but against my better judgment, for the creature too.
"Hurj is close by," I begin, my voice a low rumble of reluctant admission. "We can take it home.”
Her head snaps up, surprise etched onto her features, shock clear in those piercing eyes that now hold mine with an intensity that borders on electric. There's a shift in the air, a crackling energy that wasn't there before. She sees something in me that perhaps I haven't acknowledged until now, the possibility that beneath my cocksure swagger, there might just be a glimmer of something more.
"You mean that?" she asks, her tone a mix of hope and caution. This female stirs something within me that I wish to ignore. But it's impossible. Not with her looking at me like that, as if she expects me to be better than I am.
I nod, feeling my sivot shift as if in agreement. "Yes. For you, I will do this.”
For a moment, there's silence between us, charged with the electricity of unspoken truths and burgeoning respect. Then, without warning, she launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist and holding me tight.
"Thank you, Behtu," she says, her voice thick with emotion.
She peers up at me, and the intensity of her gaze is like a supernova, searing through layers of armor I didn't even realize I wore. In that look, something fundamental changes within me.My sivot stirs, restless beneath my skin, and I know without a doubt that this female has awakened more than just my dormant beast. She's ignited something primal, a connection that binds us together with an intensity that terrifies and exhilarates me all at once.
“You need to take a seat and strap in,” I tell Jules.
“What about our friend?” She motions to the Gehrt cowering on the floor.
"Bliking dund," I mutter under my breath. Crossing the command deck, I drop down a flight seat and motion for the Gehrt to take the seat and strap in. It scurries over, keeping its head bowed, and does as it's told.
With the Gehrt settled, I take a seat at the helm and plot a course for Hurj. My life is one of constant motion, seeking treasures among the stars, living by the code of a space-bound marauder. It's not in my nature to play the rescuer, especially to beings I have no connection to.
Jules takes the seat next to mine, grinning from ear to ear. Her verdant gaze shines with respect and something I’m not ready to acknowledge.
“What’s in the sack?” She points to the bulge in my pocket. “The Stryt found it onboard.”
“Rillium. Fuel chips,” I answer, then turn a quizzical look her way. “How did you get it back from the Stryt?”
“In my disguise, I was mistaken for one of them.” She nods her head at the Gehrt. “The Stryt handed it to me and told me to follow, so I did in hopes of finding you.”
My sivot stirs with fear. If she was discovered to be human, she would have been taken to General Kragar and kept as an exotic pet to with her what he pleased. The Universe is too dangerous a place for her, even with my sivot to protect her, there is too much that would cause her harm just for being what she is.
I should return her to Pryt where she will be safe, but I’m reluctant to part ways with her again. Perhaps a short reprieve at my hideaway on Ritk.
JULES
I lean against the cool metal wall of the ship, watching Behtu as he extends his large, blue hand to guide the trembling Gehrt down the ramp to deliver it home. The creature’s slender limbs shake uncontrollably with fear or excitement, I can’t tell. Maybe a little of both. I would imagine if I were returned to my world after being abducted and forced into slavery, I would feel similarly.
Hurj is a bizarre planet, its very ground seems alive with undulating waves of iridescent hues that shift and meld like a mesmerizing dance. Clouds like flickering flames cast an eerie glow over the rugged terrain while electric energy hums through the air, crackling with an unknown force.
Even though I haven't known Behtu for very long, his act of kindness doesn't seem like something he does often. From what I’ve learned about space pirates in the time I’ve spent on Pryt with the other rescued women, Star Mavericks are self-serving loners who follow their own rules and live by their own creed except when it comes to other Mavericks. They’re a brotherhood of elite thieves who travel the Universe, always managing to stay one step ahead of the law.
"Go on, small creature. You’re free," Behtu murmurs, his voice a deep hum that vibrates through the air. The Gehrt hesitates before scurrying away, its bare feet kicking up dust that sparkles even as it settles.
I turn to peer through the viewport watching it go, feeling happy I helped at least one creature back to where it belongs. Just before disappearing into the twisted flora, the Gehrt pauses and looks back. It lifts a hand, a gesture so unmistakably human that it tightens my chest. I raise my hand in response, giving it a little wave. It dashes off until it's lost to the alien wilderness.
As Behtu watches it go, there’s a softness to his usual impenetrable gaze, a vulnerability that warms my heart, threading an intricate web of emotion beyond the primal heat and fierce desire I've come to associate with him.
Behtu turns, his broad shoulders casting a shadow on the gleaming deck as he strides back inside the ship. The ramp retracts with a hiss, severing our last tie to Hurj.
"Take a seat and strap in," Behtu commands, as he settles in behind the command console.
"Where to now?” I ask as the planet’s bizarre landscape, a chaotic jigsaw of jagged peaks and swirling mists fades as we take off, shrouded in the planet's eerie glow.
“My hideaway. We should lay low for a while. General Kragar will be seeking revenge for the destruction my sivot left in his wake.”
I obey, feeling the electric hum of the engines revving to life. The vessel speeds up, pressing me back into the seat, and I steal a glance at Behtu. His focus never wavers, hands dancing over the console with practiced ease, yet there’s a ferocity in his movements, a silent vow that nothing will stand in the way of what he wants.
