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The jungle exploded into chaos. Snarls, screeches, the sound of ripping flesh and breaking bones filled the air. I stumbled, slamming into a tree, barely able to process what was happening.

Because the thing that had just dropped from the trees like a goddamn superhero was...

Was...

Oh.

Oh shit.

He was huge—at least seven and a half feet of corded muscle, deadly claws, and golden fur striped with black. His powerful body moved with fluid grace as he tore into the lizard, his cat-like ears flattened against his skull, thick tail lashing in agitation. Razor-sharp fangs gleamed as he ripped through the predator’s hide like it was paper.

My brain short-circuited, unable to process what I was seeing.

It’s him. The alien from my dream.

I barely had time to register that impossible fact before his head snapped toward me, nostrils flaring, pupils expanding to dark pools rimmed with gold. His bloodied claws flexed at his sides.

Instinct screamed at me to run.

I did the next best thing.

I grabbed a rock and hurled it at his head with all my strength.

He dodged it easily, almost lazily, a rumbling sound vibrating from his chest that—horrifyingly—sounded amused. Then he moved, lightning-fast, closing the distance between us before I could even think to run.

I yelped, scrambling backward, but his massive hands caught me, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing at all. I shrieked, kicking wildly, smacking ineffectually at his chest.

“Let me go! You big—striped—murder-cat!”

If he understood me, he didn’t show it. Instead, he hauled me up against his chest, rumbling something in his deep, purring alien voice that sent unwanted shivers down my spine. He tucked me securely against him with one arm, my feet dangling uselessly off the ground, and carried me away like a prize he’d won.

And all I could think, through the panic and the fear, was how his touch felt exactly like it had in my dream.

He didn’t eat me.So that was a plus in the “stranded on an alien planet” survival guide. Instead, after carrying me for what felt like miles through the dense jungle, my feline captor brought me to what remained of a ship—the kind you’d see in high-end military catalogs back on Earth, all sleek curves and menacing angles. Or at least, it would have been impressive before whatever catastrophe had turned it into a blackened husk of twisted metal embedded in scorched earth.

“A ship,” I breathed, hope flickering to life despite the obvious state of the wreckage. “You have a ship.”

The alien finally set me down, his massive hands lingering on my waist a moment longer than necessary. I scrambled away from him, putting a healthy distance between us as I assessed my surroundings. The crash site was a disaster zone—debris scattered in a wide radius, the earth torn up and scorched black. The ship itself was barely recognizable as a vessel, its hull rippedopen and charred, the cockpit a mess of shattered glass and mangled controls.

The alien’s ears twitched toward me at the sound of my voice. His golden eyes—the same eyes from my dream, a fact I was desperately trying to ignore—fixed on me with unnerving intensity. He made a low rumbling sound in his chest, then gestured toward the wreckage with a clawed hand.

I turned back to the ship, hope rapidly fading as I took a closer look. The engines were completely destroyed, twisted hunks of metal that would never fire again. The navigation systems were exposed to the elements, wires dangling uselessly. Even the emergency beacons appeared damaged beyond repair.

This thing wasn’t flying anywhere. Not now, not ever.

My heart sank as reality settled heavy on my shoulders. I wasn’t getting off this planet with this ship.

“Great,” I muttered, slumping against a nearby boulder. “Just great. Stranded on an alien planet with a wrecked ship and a giant cat-man who might decide I’m dinner after all.”

The alien appeared unbothered by my distress. He moved with confident purpose toward the ship, stepping through a jagged tear in the hull. I watched him disappear inside, tensing as I considered making a run for it.

But where would I go? Back to the jungle with the six-legged lizards? Not exactly a promising alternative.

So I waited, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to sort through the impossible situation I found myself in—particularly the fact that the alien who’d just saved me was identical to the one who’d …well …done considerably more intimate things to me in my dream.

The alien emerged from the wreckage a few minutes later, holding something small and metallic in his massive hand. The device gleamed in the sunlight, clearly undamaged despite thestate of the ship. It looked vaguely medical—like a cross between a hypodermic injector and a diagnostic tool.

He approached me with determined strides, the device held out in front of him.

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