Arilee

ARILEE

T he aroma of unfamiliar spices wafted through the hotel room, tickling my nose. I stared at the plate before me, piled high with delicacies I couldn't name. My stomach churned. Hunger? Anxiety? Both?

Rokan sat across from me, gaze fixed on my face. "Eat," he commanded, his voice gruff.

I poked at something that looked like a purple egg. "What is this?"

"Nargaki quail egg. A delicacy." He lifted one to his mouth, biting into it with his pointed teeth. A rich, golden yolk oozed out.

My mind raced. Freedom from Gorin dangled before me like a shimmering mirage. But could I trust it? Could I trust Rokan? The idea of being his "mate" sent shivers down my spine - equal parts excitement and terror.

"You're thinking too hard," Rokan said, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. "The food will get cold."

Something that looked like blue bacon melted on my tongue, savory and smoky. "It's good," I mumbled.

Rokan's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "See? Not everything alien is terrible."

I shot him a glare. "Present company excluded?"

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent heat coursing through me. "Your words, not mine."

I found myself compelled to watch him, the way his lips moved, the flex of his arms as he reached for his drink. My body remembered his touch all too well.

"Stop staring," he growled.

I felt my cheeks flush. "I wasn't-"

"You were." His eyes locked onto mine. "What's on your mind, little human?"

My throat constricted. "Will Gorin really let me go?"

Rokan's expression darkened. "He will if he knows what's good for him."

"And you?" I whispered. "Do you really want... this?"

The silence stretched out. "Finish your breakfast," he said finally, pushing back from the table.

I watched him stride across the room, his lean body radiating tension. He tapped at a panel on the wall, ordering something I couldn't hear.

A few minutes later, a soft chime announced a delivery. Rokan retrieved a small package from a slot in the wall.

"What's that?" I asked.

He tossed a deck of cards onto the table. They were longer and narrower than Earth cards, with intricate geometric designs on the backs.

"Time for a lesson," he said, sitting back down. "Every hunter needs to know how to play Bloodhound."

I raised an eyebrow. "Bloodhound?"

"It's a game of strategy and deception." He began shuffling the cards with practiced ease. "Perfect for passing the time during long stakeouts."

"I'm not really in the mood for games," I said, pushing my half-eaten breakfast away.

Rokan's eyes narrowed. "Tough. You need the distraction, and I need you to stop overthinking everything."

I crossed my arms. "What if I refuse?"

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "Then I'll have to find other ways to occupy that pretty mouth of yours."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "Fine," I snapped. "Teach me your stupid game."

He dealt out seven cards each. "The goal is to create sets of three or more cards, either in sequence or of the same rank. But here's the twist - you can lie about what cards you're playing."

I frowned. "How does that work?"

"When you play a card face down, you declare what it is. Your opponent can choose to believe you or challenge you. If they're right, you take a penalty. If they're wrong, they do."

As he explained the intricacies of the game, I found myself drawn in despite my initial reluctance. The cards were beautifully illustrated, each suit representing a different species of sentients.

"So if I play this card," I said, laying down a Vinduthi Queen, "and say it's a Human Jack, you'd have to decide whether to trust me or not?"

Rokan nodded. "Exactly. It's all about reading your opponent, anticipating their moves."

We played a practice hand, with Rokan correcting my mistakes and explaining the finer points of strategy. By the time we started our first real game, I was determined to beat him.

"Two Mondian Kings," I declared, laying down my cards.

Rokan's eyes narrowed. "Liar," he growled.

I flipped the cards, revealing exactly what I'd claimed. "Ha! Drink up, big guy."

He took a swig from a small flask, grimacing at the taste. "Lucky guess."

As we played, the tension in the room shifted. The banter flowed more easily, punctuated by moments of intense concentration.

"You're not half bad at this," Rokan admitted as I won the third hand.

I grinned. "Maybe I should become a bounty hunter. I could give you a run for your money."

His expression darkened. "Don't even joke about that."

"Why not?" I challenged. "Afraid of a little competition?"

Rokan leaned forward, glaring. "Because the thought of you in danger makes me want to tear the galaxy apart."

Oh. My mind blanked. Was he serious?

Couldn't be.

Before I could respond, a harsh buzzing filled the room. Rokan's percomm flashed urgently.

He glanced at the device, his face hardening into a mask. "It's Gorin."

Gorin's face filled the screen, his mottled brown skin and leathery features twisting into a sneer. My stomach clenched, bile rising in my throat. Even through the plex, his presence made my skin crawl. I shrank back, pressing against Rokan's solid form behind me.

Seconds stretched, but still, Gorin said nothing. His beady eyes roved over me, lingering on the fading bruises around my neck.

Could I really survive going back to him? The thought of his hands on me again made me want to claw my own skin off. It would be better to find a way to end it all before that happened.

"Well, well," Gorin finally drawled. "Looks like it's time to touch up your jewelry, my dear. You've gone far too long without my... care."

I flinched at his words, as my fingers unconsciously traced the marks on my wrists.

Rokan stepped forward, cutting off my view of the screen. "Gorin," he growled, "has Davor been in touch with you?"

But Gorin ignored him completely, craning his neck to keep his eyes on me. "Remember, ," he said, words dripping with false sweetness, "I own your papers. You belong to me."

His force of his sick desires squeezed the air from my lungs, leaving nothing but the urge to scream, to run, to disappear.

Rokan moved again, blocking me entirely from Gorin's view. "I'll buy her papers," he insisted, "We can keep this nice and legal."

There was a tense silence. I held my breath, caught between hope and terror.

"Well, well," Gorin finally said. "Isn't this interesting? The big bad Vinduthi wants to play hero."

"This isn't a game," Rokan snarled. "Name your price."

Gorin chuckled, the sound alone enough to make me sick. Anything he was amused by wasn't a good thing. "Oh, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. But these things are best discussed in person, don't you think? Meet me at the original location on Quixa."

"We meet on neutral ground," Rokan snarled. "I won't walk into a trap."

Gorin's laughter crackled through the comm, making my skin crawl. "Oh, my dear Vinduthi," he sneered, "you seem to be under the mistaken impression that you have any say in this matter."

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to scream. How could I have ever thought escape was possible? Gorin's smug face on the screen reminded me of all the times he'd crushed my hopes before.

"I have the credits," Rokan insisted. "Name a place, and we'll make the exchange."

"You misunderstand, bounty hunter," Gorin snapped. "You don't have any room to bargain here. The girl is mine, legally and completely. Your credits mean nothing without my willingness to sell."

I watched the muscles in Rokan's jaw tighten, his teeth bared in a snarl, his anger radiating hotly enough that I thought he might smash the comm unit.

My heart sank. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

"When?" Rokan asked, his body tense.

"Let's say... twenty standard hours from now. And Rokan?" Gorin's voice hardened. "Don't be late."

The screen went dark.

I sagged against Rokan, my legs suddenly weak. His arms came around me, steadying me.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. Rokan's arms around me felt like a sanctuary, but I couldn't let myself get lost in that false sense of security. The reality of our situation crashed over me like a tidal wave.

"Rokan," I whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "You know this is probably a trap, right?"

His eyes narrowed, the small horns at his temples catching the light. "Of course it is," he growled. "Gorin isn't stupid enough to play fair."

I swallowed hard, remembering all too well the depths of Gorin's cruelty. "Then why are we walking right into it?"

Rokan's grip on me tightened, his gray skin warm against mine. "Because it doesn't matter. I'll protect you. I promise."

I wanted to believe him so badly it hurt. But years of abuse and betrayal had taught me better than to trust easily.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, hating how small and weak I sounded. "You don't know what he's capable of."

A low, dangerous rumble emanated from Rokan's chest. "I have a pretty good idea. And I promise you, , he will never lay a hand on you again."

I pulled away from him, wrapping my arms around myself. The room suddenly felt too small, too confining. I paced to the window, staring out at the cityscape beyond.

"You can't guarantee that," I murmured. "No one can."

I heard Rokan move behind me, his footsteps nearly silent on the plush carpet. He didn't touch me.

It didn't matter. Just his presence drew me, called to something in my blood.

"Look at me," he said softly.

I turned, meeting that mesmerizing golden gaze.

"I am not like the others who have failed you," Rokan said. "When I make a promise, I keep it. No matter the cost."

A lump formed in my throat.

"Why?" I asked, searching his face, trying to understand what was happening. "Why go through all this trouble for me? I'm just a human. I'm nothing special."

Rokan's expression softened, just a fraction. He reached out, his fingers ghosting along my cheek. "You're wrong about that," he murmured. "You're extraordinary, . And I will move the stars themselves to keep you safe."

My chest felt unbearably tight.

The intensity in his gaze, the gentleness of his touch – it was all too much. I pulled away, needing space to think clearly.

"This is insane," I said, twisting my fingers together. "We barely know each other. You can't just upend your entire life for me."

Rokan's lips quirked in a humorless smile. "My life could use some upending."

More than anything I wanted to argue, to push him away. But the fierce determination in his eyes made my protests die long before they reached my lips. Instead, I leaned into his touch, craving the warmth and safety he offered.

"I'm scared," I admitted, hating how vulnerable I felt. "Not just of Gorin, but... of this. Of us. Whatever this is between us, it terrifies me."

Rokan's thumb brushed across my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen. "I know," he said softly. "But we're stronger together. Trust me, . Let me protect you."

I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions raging inside me. Part of me wanted to run, to push him away before I got hurt again. But a larger part yearned to give in, to believe in the safety and comfort he offered.

"Okay," I whispered, opening my eyes. He was right. We couldn't just keep running. If I wanted a future with him, I needed to fight for it.

"I'll trust you. But promise me one thing."

Rokan nodded, his expression solemn. "Anything."

I swallowed hard. "You can't die."