Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

T he ship lurched to a stop, and Venus felt her heart rate spike. Showtime. As her captors roughly hauled her to her feet, she blinked owlishly, playing up her disorientation.

“Oh my,” she slurred, stumbling deliberately. “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.”

The guards exchanged confused glances but said nothing as they half-dragged, half-carried her down the ship’s ramp. Venus’s eyes darted around, taking in every detail of her surroundings. They were in a cavernous hangar, its walls hewn from rough, glittering stone. A sleek, predatory-looking spacecraft loomed nearby, clearly prepped for departure.

And there, flanked by a group of armed warriors, stood a figure that could only be Oran Rathor.

He was tall with a lean, coiled energy that reminded Venus of a jungle cat about to pounce. His eyes, when they landed on her, were cold and filled with contempt.

“So,” he drawled, his voice a silky purr that did nothing to mask the danger beneath. “This is the Earth female that’s caused so much trouble. I must say, I expected... more.”

Venus straightened, shrugging off her captors’ hands. No point in playing meek now. “Sorry to disappoint,” she quipped. “I left my ‘Threat to Alien Warlords’ outfit at the dry cleaners.”

Oran’s eyes narrowed. “Insolent to the last, I see. Tell me, Earth girl, do you have any idea of the damage you and your kind have done to Tharvis?”

Venus raised an eyebrow. “Damage? Last I checked, we were working on an alliance that would benefit both our worlds. But please, enlighten me. What grievous harm have we terrible Earthlings inflicted?”

Oran began to pace, his movements tight with barely contained rage. “You’ve made us weak!” he spat. “This... agreement with your primitive world makes Tharvis look pathetic. Earthlings are savages, your planet a cesspool of violence and ignorance. And yet my king, and now Azlun, would have us treat you as equals?”

Venus felt her own anger rising, but she kept her voice level. “Interesting perspective,” she said, injecting as much sarcasm into her voice as possible. “And your solution is, what? To murder an unarmed woman and her sisters? To plunge your world into war? Tell me, Oran, who’s the real savage here?”

Oran whirled on her, closing the distance between them in two long strides. “You know nothing of our ways or what’s at stake!”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” Venus shot back. “You’re scared. Scared of change, scared of losing your precious status quo. It’s pathetic, really. A big, bad Tharvisian warrior, trembling at the thought of little old Earth.”

Oran’s hand shot out, gripping Venus’s chin painfully. “You dare mock me? Your planet is a blight, a stain on the galaxy. Nothing good has ever come from Earth.”

Venus met his gaze unflinchingly. “Really? Nothing good at all? Not art, not music, not literature? Not the countless scientific advancements we’ve made? Not pizza?” She paused for effect. “Okay, maybe not pizza. I’ll give you that one.”

She could see Oran’s composure cracking, his grip on her face tightening. Good. The angrier he got, the sloppier he’d become. And the more time Azlun and the others would have to get here.

“You think this is a game?” Oran snarled. “My brother is dead because of your cursed treaty! Eerion died trying to protect our way of life from your corrupting influence!”

Venus’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Eerion? Your brother tried to kill me and my sisters. He was a traitor to the crown.”

“He was a patriot!” Oran roared, shoving Venus away. She stumbled but kept her feet, her mind racing. This was about more than just Earth. This was personal.

“A patriot?” Venus scoffed, pushing her advantage. “Is that what you call someone who betrays their prince? Who tries to murder innocent women? Sounds more like a coward to me.”

The tension in the hangar was palpable. Oran’s men shifted uneasily, clearly unsure of how to handle this mouthy Earth female who showed no fear.

Oran’s face contorted with rage. “Enough! I will not stand here and be lectured by some primitive?—“

A distant explosion cut him off, the hangar walls trembling with the aftershock. Venus’s heart leaped. Cavalry’s here.

Oran’s head snapped toward the sound, then back to Venus, comprehension dawning in his eyes. “You,” he growled. “This was a trap.”

Venus allowed herself a small, fierce smile. “What can I say? We primitive Earthlings are full of surprises.”

Chaos erupted as Tharvisian royal guards poured into the hangar. Oran lunged for Venus, but she was ready. She ducked under his grasp, delivering a swift kick to his solar plexus that left him coughing.

“That,” she panted, “was for calling Earth a cesspool.”

As blaster fire erupted around them, Venus dove for cover. Her eyes scanned the melee, searching for a familiar face. Where was Azlun?

A hand grabbed her arm, and Venus whirled, fist cocked back. But it was Azlun, his eyes wild with a mix of relief and fury.

“Cutting it a bit close, weren’t you?” Venus quipped, unable to keep the relief from her voice.

“You’re insane, you know that?” Azlun growled, pulling her close. “Absolutely, brilliantly insane .”

Over Azlun’s shoulder, Venus saw Oran staggering to his feet, murder in his eyes. “Uh, darling? Hate to break up this reunion, but we’ve got company.”

As Azlun turned to face Oran, Venus steeled herself. The real fight was just beginning.