Every sound, every light, every heartbeat—all of it gets sucked into a single, perfect moment. Thejalshagarhitshard, like my soul’s been lit on fire and dropped into ice. I stagger. Just a little. My knees threaten to buckle under me.
Her gaze burns. Blue fire. Wide with shock, then—rage.
Not fear.
Not submission.
Challenge.
She gasps. Her mouth opens. “You?—”
Then shekicks me.
Right in the balls.
Painexplodesthrough my lower half. I grunt, folding forward with a sound that’s more fury than agony, but it’s agony too. Stars crackle behind my eyes. My breath leaves me in a snarl.
By the time I blink back the pain, she’sgone.
Bolted through the side hatch, bare feet slapping on metal.
I drag in a breath, slow and sharp. Straighten.
I’mgrinning.
“Magnificent,” I mutter, voice husky with a mix of laughter and something far more dangerous.
The real hunt has begun.
CHAPTER 3
AYLA
My lungs burn like fire in my chest. Every breath tastes like ozone and fear, and the metallic tang of blood lingers in the recycled air, even though I don’t think I’m bleeding. Not yet.
The corridor tilts under my feet, and I skid into the wall, catching myself on a busted panel that hisses under my touch. Sparks spit from the seams. Lights flicker overhead, casting everything in strobes of red and white like the ship can’t decide if it’s alive or dying.
I don’t stop.
My boots—thank the stars I had the sense to wear them tonight—slam against the deck with every frantic step. I leap over a fallen steward, unconscious or dead, and vault a broken food cart still dripping with expensive cheeses and some synth-fruit sauce that smells absurdly sweet for the chaos around me.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, voice catching.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t go back.
Not after thoseeyes.
Gods, those eyes.
I shove the memory away, but it claws its way to the front again—those red, glowing irises like they saw through my skin.Like theyrecognizedsomething in me I didn’t even know was there.
And then I kicked him in the balls.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat, sharp and nearly deranged, but I choke it back.
The ship groans again. The walls shudder with the aftershock of another system breach. I know this sound—it means the boarding parties are deeper in. My time is running out.
I duck into a side passage and wrench open the emergency maintenance panel. It screeches in protest, but I get it open and slide into the dark, narrow shaft behind it. It's tight—too tight. My shoulder scrapes metal as I climb inside, using handholds bolted into the wall for maintenance workers.
