Page 22 of Whispers of the Void

My wrist is wrapped in the hand of a Helixian warrior. I attempt to pull my hand from his grasp, but it’s too strong. A gust of air passes over my head as Altis punches the male beside me.

He drops my hand, but I feel arms lock around my waist and begin to drag me toward the back of the pub. I throw back my elbow, making contact with a solid wall of muscle. A green hand covers my mouth as I yell out for Altis.

“Shhh, human. Don’t involve the male. This won’t take long.”

My back hits a wall, the air escaping from my lungs at the impact. I gasp, trying to drag oxygen into my lungs as my body is trapped between the disgusting body of the male in front of me. I don’t even know what species he is, but when he smiles at me, his pointed teeth drip disgusting saliva.

“Do you know what we do with humans on the outpost?” His slimy fingers wrap around my throat. “Pass them around until they’re all used up and then toss them in the wastes to die like the trash they are.”

He runs his tongue up my cheek. “You smell like a Zeahirian mate, but you don’t taste like one.”

I bring my knee up between his legs, hard and fast like Torre taught me. His putrid breath fans over my face as his breath whooshes out of him. I try to wiggle away, but he’s too big, too strong, to escape.

My head snaps to the side as he punches me.

“Maybe I’ll kill you first, then use your pathetic excuse for a body.” He wraps his hand around my throat, lifting me.

My feet kick as I try to find purchase somehow. Out of the corner of my eye I see, Altis fighting four males on his own. It’s clear that he can’t help me. I’m on my own.

I ready myself to go completely lax, hoping I can catch him off guard and use the momentum to drop from his hold when four deadly talons erupt from his chest. Blood spurts from the wound as his jaw goes slack.

“You dare touch the female bearing my scent,” Raiz snarls. His fangs have fully extended, and I realize now that the altercation I saw on board was nothing compared to the real wrath and power he can exude.

Before I even realize what he’s doing, he has pulled both arms off the male. The body drops to the floor in pieces, viscous orange blood pooling at my feet. As our eyes meet, I see the haze of fury drop from his eyes. His talons retract and he lifts me into his arms.

As he carries me out of the pub, I lock eyes with an older male, a rough looking human. His dark hair is peppered with silver and his blue eyes lined with wrinkles. I can’t tear my gaze from his. It feels like I’m locked in a tractor beam until Raiz steps out onto the road and begins to run back to the ship.

Altis joins him, their speed, even carrying me, is incredible. It took twenty minutes to walk this far, but we’re back on the ship in what feels like three minutes.

“You can put me down,” I say quietly to Raiz as his booted feet stomp up the metal ramp into the cargo bay.

He doesn’t reply, just holds me tighter as he walks quickly through the corridors toward the med bay.

“Please, don’t take me there again.” I put my hand on his chest, imploring him to consider it. “I’m developing a complex by always being taken there. I’m fine.”

My cheek stings, but he halts, looking down at me and really taking in my appearance. Instead of continuing toward Hyva’s office, he switches directions for my quarters.

“You can set me down. I can walk.”

“No.”

He strides into my quarters like he owns it. Which actually he does. I’m not set down until we’re in the bathroom, and he lowers me onto the counter. His large hand sprawls over one of my thighs, holding me still, while he reaches behind me and opens a cabinet I didn’t even know existed.

He sets bandages and antiseptic wash on the counter, confusing me. “I’m not cut.”

“Yes, you are.” His words sound more guttural around his fangs. “The Helixian cut your cheek with the spines on his knuckles.”

I turn to look in the mirror behind me and, sure enough, on top of the already bruising skin are three parallel gashes. I turn back to Raiz as he unclips the cloak, and it drops from my shoulders. His eyes darken when he looks down at my chest and sees my shirt torn from the collar to my belly button.

My stomach drops. I didn’t even feel the shirt rip. The severity of what just happened begins to sink in as both of us look down at my exposed skin.

CHAPTER8

RAIZ

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Neev whips the remains of her shirt over her head, leaving her bloodied and bruised body on display around the undergarment wrapped around her chest. Our females don’t wear such items, but they only develop breasts for feeding young. My eyes catch on a tattoo that extends from beneath the material and downward. Before I can try to puzzle together an idea of what it depicts, I force my eyes back to her face.

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