Page 35 of Shattered Silence

Oh. Layla was so used to being admired for her looks that Enki’s dispassionate approach surprised her. Why did she feel like he should at least somehow be… impressed?

Fame gone to your head, honey?

“I am not going to fondle you, if that is what you’re worried about.”

Huh. Was he being chivalrous, or just cold?

She suspected the latter. “I’m not worried. You don’t look like the type to take advantage of a situation like this.” Layla tucked her fingers under the edge of her top and pulled it away from her skin, wincing as tiny fibers of synthetic material were ripped out from where they’d become stuck in her drying wounds. She hissed in pain as she pulled the bio-material away from her skin, until finally, the top was gone, revealing her bare chest, boobs and all.

Instantly, her nipples hardened, reacting to the cold. Layla was so incredibly vulnerable right now, but for some reason, she wasn’t absolutely terrified.

The way Enki treated her was… different. The fact that he looked at her with no emotion whatsoever—it actually helped. She didn’t get the feeling he was about to ravage her or lock her into brutal slavery.

Even though he was a Kordolian, an alien, a stranger.

Even though he was so obviously dangerous.

Enki produced a small metal tube. “This is a healing gel. I’ll put some on your finger, and you will apply it over the scratches on your chest. I will do your back. Turn around.”

So cold. So clinical. Layla supposed she should be thankful, but a small part of her wished he would show at least some sort of reaction.

Maybe because that would demonstrate some form of weakness, would show her that he was human after all.

But he wasn’t.

So it didn’t matter.

Enki reached out. “Give me your hand.”

Layla placed her cold, trembling fingers into his. Enki’s touch was warm, rough, and gentle, all at the same time. He pressed a spot on the tube and a smooth silver gel came out, forming a blob on her fingertip. As it made contact with her skin, the stuff felt strange; warm and tingly and fizzy.

“Turn around.” It was a simple command, and there was probably nothing sensual or sexual about it, but Layla couldn’t help but become a little hypnotized by the roughness that entered Enki’s voice.

It was the first hint of an emotion other than anger.

Wordlessly, she obeyed, because really, what else could she do?

Chapter Twelve

There was a first time for everything.

A first time for being face-to-face with a human, and for attempting to do a medic’s work.

Enki’s first encounter with a human resulted in him applying fibrogel to her badly lacerated back. As he took in the full extent of her injuries, anger sparked deep within his soul.

It was truly fitting that she’d killed Mirkel, finishing what Xalikian had partly done, because that deranged piece of shit medic had savaged her. In death, Mirkel was fortunate, because if Enki had caught him, he would have ripped the cybernetic prosthesis from the medic’s body, fiber by fiber, making sure he felt everything.

And then he would have killed him slowly.

The scratches on Layla’s back were long and deep, oozing blood. What surprised Enki was that she hadn’t complained once.

And now she bared herself to him, trusting him.

Why do you hesitate, soldier? For once, the Tharian didn’t mock him. It seemed genuinely curious. That’s so unlike you.

But Enki didn’t answer, because he was transfixed.

In the gentle arch of her ravaged back, he found beauty.

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