But they’re not prisoners.

He frowned at the controls, annoyed at the variation in his normal process - and his own weakness. He wasn’t some soft-hearted caretaker. He needed to remember who he was and why he worked alone.

But despite that resolution, he found himself straining to catch the distant sounds of Willow and Sooni in the galley. The clatter of dishes, muffled voices, a soft laugh. It stirred something in him, another long-buried memory just out of reach.

He shook his head sharply, forcing his attention back to the navigation console. He had a job to do. These people were a complication, nothing more. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, to care.

Yet even as he told himself this, his fingers hovered over the environmental controls, raising the temperature to a more comfortable level for his human and Ssst passengers.

Fuck.

Determined to put things on a business footing, he placed a sound barrier across the entrance to the cockpit, then input a complex encryption sequence. The communication channel crackled to life, and King Conran’s holographic image materialized before him. The king was surprisingly young, with gleaming golden skin and glowing golden eyes, but he was a skillful warrior who’d fought a successful battle to rid Farlain of the tyrannical former king.

“Wraith. Do you have news for me?”

“Not exactly. Unfortunately the slavers had already fled when I arrived, but I have recovered a human female.” He had to force himself to keep his tone neutral, an unexpected tightness filling his chest.

“Another one? Damn. We have to shut this ring down, Wraith.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“That is why you hired me.”

His original assignment had been to recover and question the now-dead slaver, but Conran had extended his contract to tracking down the source of the slave ring.

“I know. But first I think you’d better bring the female to Farlain. My mate will insist.”

Since Conran’s mate was also human, Wraith had no doubt that was true, but he felt an odd hollowness in his stomach.

“Very well,” he said. “I trust I’ll be compensated for this additional… cargo?”

The words felt wrong as they left his mouth, but he was a professional after all. He’d told Willow truthfully that he didn’t work for free.

“Very well,” Conran replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But make sure she doesn’t come to any harm.”

“I never permit my cargo to be damaged,” he said coldly and ended the transmission, leaning back in his seat.

He should feel pleased that he’d established a professional boundary, but somehow he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. Willow would be safe enough on Farlain, with the other human female - so why didn’t he feel happier about the solution?

He’d gotten what he wanted - confirmation of payment and orders to continue the hunt. So why did it feel like a hollow victory?

He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the unease that clung to him. She is just another contract, he reminded himself. A job to be completed, nothing more. He’d delivered countless bounties before without a second thought. This shouldn’t be any different.

But it was.

The memories of her warm smile, that small, soft body, the gentle way she’d spoken to him earlier, kept intruding on his thoughts. He did his best to push them aside, focusing instead on the nav charts before him. He plotted a course for Farlain, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency.

“Just a contract,” he muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

Why did the thought of handing Willow over to Conran make him so… uncomfortable? He knew Conran wouldn’t hurt her - he was completely besotted with his own mate - but he still didn’t like the idea. He braced his hands against the control panel as he took a few deep breaths, trying to center himself. He was acting out of character, and he knew it. The realization unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

He needed to focus. To remember who he was and what he did. Sentiment had no place in his life. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford.

And yet…

The sound of laughter drifted from the galley again and something in his chest tightened at the sound. He growled in frustration, angry at himself for his weakness, the sound echoing through the cockpit.

“Is something wrong?”