Dodging a blow that would have smashed the side of her head in, she leapt at her attacker and buried her weapon to the hilt in his chest. He jerked away from her, taking the plasma dirk with him, but she had her raze sword attached to her belt and pulled it immediately. The sound of the retractable blade extending from the hilt would never cease to thrill her.
She took out two more easily enough, their hot, pale-green blood splashing against the white snow.
Drawn in by the cries of their allies, more Orcru surrounded her. Three dozen at least. Vessa pulled the plasma dirk from the dead one’s chest. She’d practiced dual wielding a long time ago while sparring with a certain Xaal before the suns had even risen. Hopefully, it hadn’t been too long.
Battle heat burned through her veins. Her blades sang, cutting through the thick hides of the brutes with ease. She danced to the rhythm of their death cries, lost herself in the fight. Bodies piled up around her, but there were still so many standing. Their eyes darted between her and their dead. She could practically hear them trying to strategize.
“Well?” she prompted as she whipped her raze sword to rid it of blood.
A particularly ugly and broad-bodied Orcru stepped forward. Long, ragged scars ran the length of his torso like he’d been on the receiving end of one too many vorg attacks. “Gor Lug take.”
“Come on, then,” she said, beckoning him forward.
He moved toward her with deadly intent.
But then something hard connected with the back of her head, knocking her forward as sparks exploded in her vision.
All she could think about before darkness overcame her was that she might never find out which septuplet the Palashian prince chose now.
Chapter 2
Kedar
The sensor lit with a green hue, blinking in and out of existence like virid lightning. It reflected off the dark paneling of his ship, fracturing into a dozen stars.
Something hot burned through him.
Could it be?
Kedar leaned forward in the pilot seat to tap a sequence on the ship’s display. He tried to tame the fever burning in his veins, calm the fervent beating of his hearts. It could be a glitch. A mistake. Someone else could have it. There was no reason for him to believe she had kept it all these years.
Or perhaps it was an illusion, and he’d finally gone truly mad. He expected the indicator to disappear as fast as it had appeared. That flashing promise.
But it was a deep and knowing ache, a hunter’s lethal instinct, that told him this was it.
It washer.
The sensor showed him the location of the female he’d been hunting for these last seven cycles.
Vessa.
Silver hair with a hint of blue, braided in her favored style, wisps of it coming undone from hidden pins. Full lips set into a position that seemed both unimpressed and disapproving at the best of times. A body designed better than any weapon and just as deadly. But it was her eyes he remembered best. Rich brown chambers so full of fire, he often commented that she could set a Xaal aflame with only a glance. The last time he’d seen them, that fire had been gone.
Only ice remained.
There were stories passed down through generations of Xaal about the death gods. How they destroyed universes and culled the weak. How they had collapsed systems and from their dust created the Three planets where only the strongest could survive. But his death god was a Seken warrior—all soft crescent curves and lethality.
There were times he could stillsmellher, damn him. That sweet, earthy scent. He’d catch a trace of it in the halls of his ship like she had just passed through. It invaded his helmet, lingered on his skin.
Tormented him.
He’d lost hours before searching for its source, forher. And always he needed to rid himself of it, tear it from memory, while hoping it wasn’t the last time.
But sometimes—and these were the worst times—he thought he’d made her up. The five years with her had been nothing but a dream. A fever weakness. Like he had never marked her as worthy, never slept beneath the stars beside her. Had never laughed with her or presented his kills to her.
Like Vessa had never drawn his blood in combat.
Beat him.
