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“You said you want to control me,” I growl out. “So, control me.”

I glare around until something flickers on the wall next to me. An image of Scarlett. I reach out to touch it, knowing it is not real but wanting it to be.

“If you want her, you will give us full access to Vorostor Central, to your Sarkarnii brethren.”

“And if I do?”

“They will be used.”

I dislike the phrase. It seems unpleasantly final.

“Used for what?”

“Fodder for the next generation. Your forms have given us with we need, the way to become invincible, not only in this galaxy but anywhere we choose.”

I weigh up the options.

My mate or the Sarkarnii, a species already rare following the destruction of our planet over ten nova-years ago.

Darax has been trying to find a way home, but he has yet to be successful. And without it, we will die out here without females, regardless of the two sarkarnlings in my sweet mate’s belly.

Could it be these creatures hold the key to our return?

I’ve had my head in the mines, wrapped in my clan’s problems, for so long, I have forgotten the bigger view of the Sarkarnii.

I thought all of my desire to rut was for my clan, but it was not. It was for my Scarlett, my heartsfire, and the joy she would bring to us all. The opening of my heart and my mind, digging me out of the hole and putting me, blinking, into the light.

And now all I need to do is find a way to get these creatures to tell me what I need to know.

The strange head shimmers, flickers, then disappears. For a nova-second or two, I am in complete darkness until all the power comes back on in a sudden rush of light and sound. A different face appears on the screen.

“Driok?”

The huge purple Sarkarnii fills my screen.

“Darax said you might need some assistance, or rather your mate did.” Driok inclines his head.

“And you volunteered?”

“I was in the area where your last comms ping came from. What have you been doing?” he asks.

Driok is the last warlord I would ever trust, unless I was me, then I wouldn’t trust me.

“Isn’t there another ship? Something was towing me,” I growl, punching up my scanners and finding precisely…nothing.

“Nothing out here except you, me, and an uninhabited moon,” Driok says, his lips lifted in a snarl.

“And what is protecting Vorostor?” I demand.

Driok has one job. His clan provide the security for our planet. The dangerous former general is supposed to be doing what they do best—disposing of any threats, allowing the rest of us to keep on doing what we do best.

“I have plenty of ships and warriors doing what needs to be done. And I didn’t need to come on a rescue mission.” Driok sighs.

You don’t want to hear him sigh. Not if you want to remain intact and functional.

I do a swift check over of my systems. With no sign of the vessel which was supposedly towing me, and knowing now the creature’s assertion they had my Scarlett in their grasp is untrue, ice flows through my veins.

“There’s going to be a further incursion into Vorostor Central. You need to get back there. You have the faster ship,” I say rapidly. “My mate is in danger, along with all our warriors.”