Page 27 of Tamed By the Alien Warlord

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Because the only thing that matters is getting them out.

Another squad rounds the corner. A volley of laser fire lights up the corridor. I roar and dive forward, intercepting the blasts. Searing pain punches through my torso, sears along my thigh,rakes across my arm. I’m smoking. Bleeding. Cooked from the inside out.

Still standing.

I leap through the barrage and slam into the nearest shooter. His armor caves under my claws. I tear his rifle away and shoot the next two point-blank. The last tries to retreat. I throw the empty rifle at his head—it cracks his visor—and then Irunhim through with the bone spur from my forearm. He convulses. Dies.

Georgia catches up to me, dragging Jasmine, breathing like she’s about to collapse.

“Lanz!” she shouts, eyes wild.

I turn.

Her gaze falls to my ruined body.

Smoke wafts off my wounds. My armor is half-melted. Blood—black and steaming—pools beneath me. But her eyes aren’t filled with horror.

Not only horror, anyway.

There’s something else.

Something darker. Hotter.

Fascination.

She’s aroused.

Even now.

Especially now.

She sees me as I am—Reaper-born, bone-split, savage—and instead of running, she stares like shewantsme.

She’s perfect.

The perfect mate.

More guards. A dozen this time. I reach for my sidearm?—

Gone. Empty.

No time to reload.

Fine.

I roar and charge.

Claws out. Bone spurs slicing from my knuckles. I move like a beast unchained. The first man falls with his throat opened from ear to ear. The second’s helmet shatters under my fist. Shrapnel lodges in my leg—I rip it out and stab the next one in the eye.

Blood slicks my boots. My wounds scream.

I fight harder.

The last three close in together—tight formation. One goes for my legs, another aims for my back. I drop low, sweep out, and impale two with the same upward stab. The third backs away—too late. I tackle him andtearout his throat with my teeth.

Silence follows.

I’m the last one standing.

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