by Layla Nash
It took far too long to engage in stupid bullshit boasting and listen to the stories of the pirates who’d boarded the transporter, which was expected from a warrior, and to make his way back to the corridor that led to sick bay and his quarters. He searched for signs of Faros or Wyzak but found nothing. Perhaps they’d gone back to the bridge to initiate their treachery and call the Alliance. The Alliance fleet would be headed their way the moment they knew the transporter had been attacked; the entire quadrant would be riddled with danger.
Which meant he and Maisy had to get out fast.
Frrar edged into sick bay and found Maisy leaning against the wall, her eyes half-closed. She jerked upright when she saw him, and color returned to her cheeks. “What’s going on? Is someone else hurt?”
“Not yet,” Frrar said. He moved quickly into the room after locking the doors so they couldn’t be opened, and checked that his nephew slept before he approached Maisy. “We need to leave. Immediately.”
A shadow crossed her expression. “Why? What’s going on?”
“They stole weapons,” Frrar said. He picked up a satchel and started to pack supplies. “They took Alliance weapons off the transporter. Faros plans to trade them back to the Alliance in exchange for the cure for his son.”
Maisy’s face went white. “What?”
“I know. I don’t want to believe it,” Frrar said. He caught her wrist and tugged her toward the door, shouldering the bag of supplies. Perhaps if they took Faryl with them, Faros would be required to rethink his strategy. “But we don’t have time. He’s reaching out to the Alliance to set up the trade right now, so this quadrant is about to become very dangerous. We need to get back to the Galaxos.”
“How are we—” Her voice trailed off as she watched him. “What are you doing?”
“We’re taking the boy with us.” Frrar gestured for her to exit. “Pack your stuff up, quickly. We need to leave while the crew is all drunk or busy.”
Maisy took a deep breath and he feared that she would break apart or refuse or question what he said. It sounded absurd on the surface, that a rebel captain would willingly return weapons to the Alliance. But Maisy nodded and unlocked the sick bay doors to return to her quarters. Frrar exhaled in relief and went to where Faryl slept. He reached into the containment net and lifted the boy out, whispering a quiet prayer under his breath, and held the child against his shoulder as Faryl stayed asleep.
It felt like an eternity before Maisy returned, carrying her bag and completely breathless, and for a moment he had a flashback to when they fled Alliance agents off a seedy spaceport in a different neutral quadrant. She’d been impressively brave during that little misadventure, even when she could and should have been incoherent with fear. She’d even charged after Trazzak when he rescued Maisy’s friend. Even with as soft and fragile as those Earthers looked, they held surprising depths of strength and resilience. He wouldn’t have traded his scales for anything, but it was impressive nonetheless.
He focused on getting Maisy and Faryl through the empty corridors of the ship to where the attack pods were located. They’d just been refueled and restocked after boarding the transporter, so the pods were their best option to get distance from the Sraibur and still hail the Galaxos or other rebel ships for assistance. As long as the Alliance wasn’t in range and didn’t pick them up before the rebels found them.
He pushed away the thought. The child still slept. Frrar jerked his chin at Maisy to enter the pod first so he could keep an eye on the corridor, and began the sequence to release the pod from its mooring on the rear of the ship. She reached through the opening and said, “Hand him to me.”
Frrar maneuvered the child to pass him into the escape pod, but froze as Maisy’s already pale face went bloodless. Her mouth hung open and she stared at something behind him. A soft curse escaped and the spikes on Frrar’s shoulders rattled. He turned and found Faros, arms over his chest and murderous rage in his eyes, standing behind him.
Faros’s voice remained deceptively quiet despite the crimson and gold flashing through his scales. “Well, brother. Care to tell me where you’re going with my youngling?”
Frrar took a deep breath and debated whether it would be worth fighting or simply throwing the boy into the escape pod and launching he and Maisy to safety. Wyzak, the second-in-command, appeared in the corridor behind the captain. Frrar’s hearts sank.
Chapter 19
Maisy
Maisy already felt frazzled as they sneaked through the corridors of the Sraibur, and the urge to pee from sheer nerves increased with every passing second. Getting into the attack pod alleviated some of the terror, until Faros managed to track them down and loomed behind Frrar like something out of her nightmares.
Frrar abruptly shoved Faryl at her and tried to close the hatch to the pod. “Go. Go.”
Faros roared and leapt forward, and Frrar tried to block him from reaching the pod. Maisy caught the boy and put him in one of the seats, trying to pull the hatch closed and lock it. She could come back for Frrar as soon as she contacted the Galaxos, and Faros wouldn’t dare hurt him so long as Maisy had Faryl with her.
But someone caught the hatch from the other side and wrenched it open. Maisy stared up at the grim first mate as he leaned down and caught her by the neck of her uniform. She cried out in surprise as he lifted her out of the pod and pinned her against the wall with one hand so he could retrieve Faryl and her bag with the other. Faros and Frrar battled in the hall, but as she watched, Faros pulled out a stunner and zapped his brother with the highest setting. Frrar dropped like a stone in gravity.
Her heart clogged her throat as all hope of escape disappeared.
Faros straightened and carefully pulled his long hair back from his face. He adjusted his uniform and took a few casual steps closer to her, though his scales remained red and orange with anger and violence. “What the hell is going on? What possessed you to try to steal my youngling?”
“You’re going to destroy the rebellion,” she whispered. “You can’t do it. You can’t give them the weapons.”
The captain’s expression turned stony. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Earther. You’ve no idea.”
“I’ve treated enough wounds to know the consequences that will—”
“You know nothing,” he said. Maisy flinched away from the abrupt violence in his movements, the tension and bulging muscles in his shoulders and chest. Faros snarled in rage but he didn’t turn away. “You’ve never been hunted and persecuted because of your species or your planet. You dance around with the Alliance and live so safe and protected behind the lies of your past. You’re nothing but the adorable little children of your galaxy, bumbling and innocent and completely helpless. You’re alive still because of the good graces of the rest of us, and yet you imagine yourselves the masters of this universe. Arrogant, stupid Earthers.”
Maisy should have retreated to plan what to do, to figure out how to help Frrar and get a message to Jess and the Galaxos. But something took over—maybe it was seeing Faryl’s frightened eyes or Frrar’s limp body, or maybe it was just being at the end of her rope with being pushed around and yelled at.
Despite the first mate still trapping her against the wall, Maisy straightened her shoulders and set her feet, firing back at the captain because she really didn’t have anything left to lose. “Maybe we are helpless and innocent. Maybe we are. But that’s better than being cold, heartless sons of bitches like you. You’re condemning the children and families of the rebellion to a miserable death or a very short life at the hands of the Alliance. You’re no better than they are. You’re worse than they are, because you know exactly what you’re doing, what you’re contributing to.”
Faros’s eyes narrowed and flashed silver. “I’m nothing like—”
“Frrar was right about you,” she snapped. Maisy tried unsuccessfully to pull free and maybe punch him, but when Wyzak didn’t move, she kicked at Faros instead. The Xaravian didn’t bother to d
odge and didn’t even seem to notice when her boot collided with his shin. “You’re a miserable bastard and you deserve to rot on some Newton-forsaken prison colony in an abandoned sector. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“I care about my son,” Faros said. His teeth bared in the quiet, scary kind of fury she remembered from when Trazzak confronted the Alliance agent over Jess’s injured body. The captain’s hands clenched until his knuckles popped. “My son. No one else’s. He is my responsibility and my priority. I care less about the rest of the world than I do a sandsnake or haugmawt. They’re nothing.”
Maisy shook so much she thought her teeth started chattering. She’d badly misjudged him—charmed by a handsome face and swaggering attitude, a life of adventure and a shiny spaceship. She’d been a complete fool. Maisy stiffened her backbone and dug deep for the courage she’d nearly run through.
“And what legacy do you leave him with? When he grows up, do you think he’ll thank you for giving the Alliance exactly what it wants and extinguishing the hope of the rebellion? How will you face him?”
“At least he’ll be alive to resent me,” Faros said.
She fumbled for a response, disbelieving, but the captain didn’t give her a chance to retort. He took his son from the first mate, then kicked at Frrar as he walked away. “Lock them up. I’ll deal with it later.”
Maisy shrieked with fury and struggled as much as she could as the impassive Wyzak half-carried her down the corridor. Two other crewmembers picked Frrar up by the shoulders and legs and carried him after them. Wyzak started to shove Maisy into her quarters but she braced a hand on the wall before he could do so. “Wait. Let me tend to him. That was a serious shock he got; I want to make sure he wakes up.”
Wyzak’s eyes narrowed as he considered, and when he didn’t speak, Maisy tried to play on that whole “stupid, innocent Earther” reputation she apparently had. She blinked rapidly and didn’t mind a few tears that coated her lashes. “Please. I’m worried about him. At least let me worry with him.”
The pirates should have just locked her in her quarters and been done with it, but at least Wyzak had hearts hidden under all his layers of scales and armor. The first mate heaved a sigh and jerked his chin at Frrar’s quarters. Maisy’s legs shook so badly she had to lean against the wall as she hobbled in after the two Xaravians dropped Frrar unceremoniously on his bed.
Wyzak frowned at her through the doorway and finally said, “Don’t do anything stupid,” before he retreated, closed the door, and locked them both in.
Maisy clenched her hands into fists and stared at the locked door. This definitely counted as adventure, and exactly the kind of situation that Jess had warned her about.
Chapter 20
Frrar
Frrar woke with a roar and immediately launched to his feet, ready to kill his brother. The thing he remembered was the sharp pain from a stunner and then the horrified look on Maisy’s face as another male pinned her to the wall. Another male touched her. He snarled and searched for someone to punish.
It took several long minutes before he recognized where he was—back in his quarters. The nice quarters with the comfortable bed and large bathroom that Maisy should have taken. Breathing heavily, he tried to get control of himself.
And all control fled once more when he spotted Maisy herself, pressed into a corner with wide eyes. He lurched toward her, desperate to know she was safe, but stopped short when she retreated still farther. Frrar cleared his throat, though his voice still rasped as he reached out to her. “I’m sorry. I know where I am now. I was worried about you. Are you okay?”
She took a deep breath and started to relax, her shoulders drooping. “Just…unnerved. I didn’t expect any of that. The weapons, the escape, Faros’s response... What are we going to do?”
He hated that she worried. She shouldn’t have to worry. He would take care of everything, he’d take care of her and keep her safe. Even if the logical part of his brain knew that wasn’t guaranteed. There was no telling what his brother would do in pursuit of his own aims. The bastard would sacrifice anyone and anything to get what he wanted.
Frrar moved slowly to sit on the bed, running his hands through his hair to get it out of his face. He didn’t want anything blocking his view of her. “We’ll make a plan, and we’ll get out of here. We’ll alert the rebels and they’ll stop Faros and he won’t be able to trade the weapons to the Alliance.”
“What about Faryl, though?” she whispered.
Frrar’s hearts sank. He loved his nephew from the time he first laid eyes on the boy, and it killed him to think Faryl would die because the Alliance refused to provide the cure. “You can still save him. I know you can. You’ll be able to figure it out.”
Her mouth turned down at the corners and she looked away. “I don’t think I can, not with this equipment. It’s state-of-the-art but it isn’t specialized enough.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Frrar said. He reached out to her and caught her wrist, drawing her up to sit next to him so they could lean back against the wall together, comfortable on the bed. “Right now we need to plan how to get word back to the Galaxos. We’ll save Faryl if we save ourselves. The Galaxos will get him to a hospital that can save him, and we won’t leave until we know for sure that Faryl will be fine. Okay?”
Maisy nodded, even if she still looked miserable, and he couldn’t stand that expression on her face. He squeezed her hand and she looked at him, her beautiful face and soft skin calling to him with a memory of their kiss.
Just like that, any measure of self-control he might’ve wielded escaped him. Her alabaster skin and vibrant eyes ignited the primal fire in his hearts. He wanted to taste her. To hold her. To possess her.
Her eyelids turned heavy and her gaze as starry as space around them. Maisy must have felt the tension in the air. As if she read his mind. Frrar pulled her closer, his mouth descending on hers. That first kiss was probing, barely-contained but still chaste compared to the places where his mind wanted to take her.
The spikes on his shoulders hardened just as his scales flashed blue and purple. Maisy’s eyes fluttered open and she took a miniscule step back, gazing at Frrar’s rapidly changing body with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Frrar wanted to override that timid build-up, but he knew he had to take things slow.
Had to make her feel safe.
Desired.
His.
In that order. He searched his mind for something to say or do that would make her feel more at ease; he didn’t want to scare her. He reached out to her, not tentative so much as he was guarded. His cock throbbed and it took everything in him to keep from pouncing on her like a caged animal.
Maisy leaned into him and made a soft sound of wanting. Her lips parted and her lids dropped, eyes closed and waiting for him. Frrar’s mouth covered hers with only a fraction of the passion boiling up in his body. His hands outlined the contour of her body, lingering on each and every curve.
To his surprise, she pressed herself against him as if to give him the go-ahead to take things further. He didn’t need to hear the same message twice in order to obey. His cock bulged and strained against the fabric of his pants, giving her something to rub again.
His body twitched with need and his arm wrapped around her, keeping her close so he could feel her soft, delicate body against his scales.
Still, he wasn’t about to rush it or do anything that might have a negative impact on her. Slow and steady would do it.
Maisy’s inquisitive eyes met his again. Without breaking their locked gazes, Frrar started to peel off her clothes, piece by piece, and gently pushed her onto the bed behind them. Maisy shivered as the cool air touched her skin, her nipples puckering and goosebumps rising all over her flesh. The Earther’s skin was fascinating in its softness and odd reactions; he couldn’t wait to find out what else it could do, how it felt against his scales… and his cock. Frrar didn’t bother to hide his arousal — not that he could have,
anyway, because the shades of his scales were unmistakable.
And so was the slickness between Maisy’s legs.
Frrar wasted no time before feasting his eyes on the incredible sight of the woman before him. He explored every inch of her naked body with his eyes before his brain turned off. He was guided only by his instincts, sharper and clearer than ever.
His tongue dragged over Maisy’s abdomen, past her navel, all the way down to her slit. He breathed on her clit, just to give her a taste of what was about to come. Her pussy glistened, heat radiating from her sex. She moaned again, nearly inaudible, and that was the last signal Frrar needed to flick his tongue over her folds.
Chapter 21
Maisy
It had been a long, long, long time since Maisy had allowed herself that kind of vulnerability. She had scarcely given anyone else the chance to get close after her first failed relationship. She hadn’t been able to find the words to convey all of the emotions that were bubbling underneath the surface to Frrar, but somehow, he’d gotten the memo. Loud and clear.
Frrar’s mouth on her sex was the most unbearably ecstatic thing she’d ever experienced. Ripples of pure pleasure traveled through her body, a roller-coaster of bliss. With each flick of his tongue over her clit, she lost herself in ever deepening waves of vertigo.
Her core quivered in violent spasms. Maisy ground her hips up against Frrar’s face. The frantic, raspy cries of pleasure that escaped her lips came in a breathless, quickening pace. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and the edges of her vision blurred in a haze as she slid her fingers into his long, tangled hair.
“More,” Frrar growled, driving tongue into her slit over and over.
Maisy’s legs splayed in the air in a V as she lay powerless to do more than grab his shoulder spikes. The barest touch on the hard lengths throttled him away from sanity.