Page 32 of Taming Chaos

With blood still dripping down his forearm, the Bartharran Clannath—whatever the hell that meant—nodded. “Understood.”

When Torin turned and started walking back toward the crate, a dark fire burned in his eyes

He looked angry.

Somehow, he’d subdued the Bartharran horde, secured them passage aboard this pirate ship, and fucking claimed her.

Seph was stunned. Bartharrans were supposed to be loud, fierce, and violent; tremendous fighters who gave no quarter. Their temperament made them good bounty hunters, mercenaries, and pirates, and their entire planet was practically a war zone.

And yet they were all afraid of Torin, who had slaughtered a handful of Bartharrans in the blink of an eye.

A single Kordolian.

As his eyes met hers, they lost none of their intensity. Instead, his crimson irises deepened in color as shadow fell across them, appearing almost black. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.

Seph’s breath caught in her throat. Torin stepped across the threshold, entering the crate. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

Her arms trembled, and she realized she was holding the plasma gun in both hands, her finger on the trigger, just like Torin had shown her.

And she had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Chapter Seven

Torin didn’t like himself very much right now. Anger burned through his veins, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint who or what he was angry at.

Perhaps he was angry at a combination of things. He felt anger at the humans for being naive enough to think they could do a straight deal in cesspit like Zarhab Groht, and for trying to obtain plasma weapons, which they had no fucking business owning.

He was angry at the Ephrenians for putting his Persephone in danger. Irresponsible bastards. Did they not understand that humans needed to be kept warm?

He was furious at the mysterious Kordolian who presumed to think he could purchase a human on the black market, in direct contravention of the new Intergalactic Anti-Slavery Edict.

But he was even more angry at the fates that had put him in this situation, forcing him to become the old Imperial terror yet again. Hadn’t he and his people already caused enough suffering to the Bartharran race?

Especially him.

And the fear on Persephone’s face was like a knife in his chest, twisting, twisting, twisting…

Goddess, that look in her eyes. He could try and explain to her that he didn’t really have any choice—that his actions were essential for their survival—but what good would that do? She’d seen what he was capable of.

Still, he had to try something. Her ability to trust him was critical to her survival. Of all possible destinations, they just had to land on a fucking Bartharran pirate ship, didn’t they? He could almost smell the testosterone in the air as it mingled with the stench of unwashed male bodies.

No communication, no backup, no escape. He’d tried his comm again and again, but the signal was beyond dead. Nobody was coming for them. He was the only thing standing between Seph and a terrible fate.

“Let’s go,” he said, trying his best to keep his anger from invading his voice. The anger wasn’t directed at her. No, it could never directed at her. It was just there, and he didn’t know what to do with it. “Hide the gun, hide your face, and follow me.”

“What’s happening, Torin? Why did you kill those Bartharrans?” For a moment, she seemed a shadow of her former self, confused and afraid. Torin couldn’t imagine what was going on inside her head. Most humans had very little exposure to violence. Compared to some of the wild, savage planets of the Nine Galaxies, Earth was a relatively peaceful place.

And Seph was definitely a creature of Earth.

“Persephone,” he said slowly, carefully, showing her his empty palms. He intentionally spoke in English, just in case some idle Bartharran was listening in—however unlikely that was. “I am on your side.”

She blinked, reminding him of a wild animal caught in the bright glare of a spotlight. “I know that, Torin.”

Why wasn’t he convinced? “I don’t have any ulterior motives,” he said quietly. “I don’t have any secret plans. I’m just a common soldier who has seen too much…” Who has caused too much injustice. “Back there on Zarhab Groht, when I saw you getting screwed over by your very own, I just couldn’t let it go. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”

Slowly, her tension began to seep away, and she started to look more and more like that other Seph, the version of her he’d glimpsed ever-so briefly when he’d wrapped his arms around her… when he’d finally gotten her to relax.

That moment, however brief, had been glorious.

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