Page 38 of Tamed By the Alien Warlord
A woman screams as my claws carve her spine in half. Another begs for mercy—I drive a bone spur through his eye. There’s a rhythm to it now, a terrible cadence. Cut. Slash. Crush. The Reapers answer my fury with their own, a chorus of death that drowns out the alarms.
Blood coats the walls like paint.
I don’t feel tired. I don’t feel pain. I only feel the heartbeat of my mate thrumming in the back of my skull. The faint echo of her scent… and something wrong with it.
A metallic whine signals the last secured door.
“Nakamura’s through there,” I say.
The Reapers step aside.
I draw my plasma blade.
The door hisses open.
He’s waiting, calm as always. Like he’d invited us to tea instead of death.
“Captain Lanz,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “So nice of you to drop in.”
My vision narrows. “I’ve slaughtered half your crew.”
He smiles politely. “You say that like I’m supposed to care.”
I take one slow step forward. My men fan out, blocking all exits.
“Where is she?” I growl.
“Oh,” he hums. “You’ll want to see this.”
He activates the holoprojector beside him.
Georgia.
Strapped to a medical bed. Unconscious.
But that’s not what makes my blood freeze.
Jasmine stands beside her. Gun in hand.
“Jasmine?” I whisper, throat tightening.
She’s expressionless. Mechanical. Her eyes are glass. And the pistol in her hand is aimed squarely at her sister’s heart.
“I told you I was improving the neural compliance formula,” Nakamura says. “She’s completely under my control now. A triumph of science, really.”
“You bastard,” I snarl, taking another step.
“Careful,” he says. “She’s still connected. Any sudden moves, and I might lose my grip.”
The rage comes fast, flooding my chest. I want to rip him apart. Tear the smug smile from his face and feed it to him.
But Georgia…
He’s using her.
He knows she’s my weakness.
“What do you want?” I growl.
