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  She turned her gaze back to the man. The man who’d saved her, right? He stared at her, waiting, his silence growing intimidating. Why did he have to be so freaking good-looking? She struggled to focus.

  “Noaz,” he said, making her start. “My name is Noaz.”

  She stopped bouncing her foot. “This isn’t one of our ships, is it?”

  “No.”

  She swallowed. Her nerves percolated into a solid tang of fear that she tasted in the back of her mouth. For a brief, horrible second, she thought she might puke.

  Thoughts of Z’hirblat raiders flooded her mind. Was this guy working for the enemy aliens? Was she on a flesh trader ship bound to some planet not governed by the Alliance’s treaty? Was she about to be sold to an extraterrestrial with tentacles instead of arms and a beak instead of a mouth?

  But the blond—Noaz—was human. At least, he looked it, and he spoke the America Corporation’s universal language that all life forms were expected to speak. Not to mention, the only humans this far out in space were on the space station.

  She thought back to her rescue. The blessed moment he’d pulled her from the steaming cockpit … using his claws.

  No, that wasn’t possible. She knew of no alien race with claws like that, and none of the aliens in the Intergalactic Alliance were humanoid. A sinking thought occurred to her.

  Son of a bitch.

  She stared at the floor instead of his face and asked, “We’re on the other side of the wormhole, aren’t we?”

  “We are.”

  “Shit.”

  Her heart flipped. She’d gone through a wormhole and emerged into another solar system. Perhaps another galaxy where the aliens were not only humanoid, but also tall and sexy and blond.

  She smacked her forehead and instantly regretted it as pain from her head injury spliced through her temples. Tears sprung up across her blurry vision.

  “What’s your name?”

  Maeve swiped at the tears. “Why?”

  “I need to know what to call you.”

  It felt ominous, him needing to know her name. Her tears dried up, and something cold and hard clenched tight in her belly. He’d saved her from the wormhole. If he wanted her dead, he could have just let her crash. Unless he wanted something else. Something that required her to be alive to deliver it.

  It took all her courage to muster up two little words. “Maeve Delgado.”

  “Maeve,” he said, testing her name. It sounded softer on his lips than he’d likely intended. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she thought he’d spoken her name in the way of someone who didn’t plan on killing her or torturing her for information.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked.

  If her trembling fear did anything to soften him, he didn’t show it. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “How do you know about the wormhole?”

  “I’ve always known it was out here,” Maeve said, too nervous to think if telling the truth was the right thing to do. But truth and facts were the pillars that had held up her world for too long; she leaned on them now when she’d never felt more afraid. “I spotted an anomaly in my readings two years ago. It didn’t add up, so I kept looking until I knew.”

  She shrugged, helpless. Well, now she knew she was right. What had it gotten her?

  “That’s why you’re out here? To find the wormhole that will lead to new planets your people can mine?”

  “No!” She gaped at him. He thought she was a Falconer? “I’m here because I’m a scientist, and I’m probably going to get fired because of it. No one ever believed there was a wormhole, and technically, I stole that ship downstairs. I’m just here for the data.”

  “And nothing more.”

  Maeve rolled her eyes to the ceiling, wishing she had her glasses so she could read his expressions better. “I’m an astrophysicist. I study the universe. I look for things no one has found before, not to send Falconers after them”—technically, that was part of her job, but she held that nugget of truth back—“but for the sake of discovering them. That’s all.”

  He dropped his crossed arms as if she’d surprised him, though it did little to soften his image. “But don’t you hold some responsibility for what those on your planet will do with the information you’ve discovered? Even if you’re solely curious about the science of the wormhole, others will use that information as a gateway.”

  Maeve frowned. She hadn’t thought about the usage of the wormhole beyond just finding it. All she’d wanted to do was prove its existence and see what was on the other side. She’d wanted to open doors and explore the possibilities of galaxies and universes unconceived. But of course, so would the Falconers. So would Commander Gideon.

  She had to admit Noaz had a point.

  “I never thought about it,” she admitted.

  His eyes flashed. “Rather naive, don’t you think?”

  “Now that you say it, yeah. Maybe. Sure. But don’t we have an obligation, once we’ve discovered something, to explore it?”

  “Not if exploring it means the disruption, or destruction, of an entire planet.”

  Maeve flinched at the vehemence and belief in his words. “That’s why you were so close to the wormhole. Because you don’t trust us. You’re keeping us away on purpose.”

  “We’ve seen what you do to your galaxy. Why would you behave differently in ours?”

  Fine. He was good-looking and knew how to put together a compelling argument. But she didn’t need to be reminded of how impulsive she could be. She had her weekly calls with her mother for that.

  “Even if I did agree with you,” she said, reaching to push up her glasses before she remembered they were missing, “and I’m not saying I do, but I’m assuming I won’t ever make it back to my station with that data intact, considering how you feel about humans. If I even make it back at all.” Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence as the realization set in. Noaz remained silent as she collected herself and lifted her chin. “I’ll be the fool who believed in a wormhole. Not to mention a thief. I’ll be fired and returned to Earth or sent to jail.”

  Noaz angled his head in confusion. It was so human and familiar that Maeve could almost forget he was an entirely new alien race, and then he asked, “What’s jail?”

  “Prison? Like locked away as punishment.”

  He understood that. His jaw clenched, and a low sound vibrated in his chest. “They would put you in a cell just for trying to prove you were right?”

  “Technically they’ll put me in jail for stealing a ship. But I’d rather go to jail than have to live on the space station where no one believes me.”

  But she’d been right. The wormhole was real. Even now, sitting in front of this alien, on his ship, from the other side of the wormhole, she felt a tingle of discovery. It wasn’t quite as exuberant as one she would have experienced from the safety of her lab, but it was there, teasing at the corners of her mouth.

  It had been real. The blinking white shimmering edge, the two-dimensional anomaly, the gravitational pull she’d never considered in all her calculations. An entirely new world on the other side. An entirely new sentient life form.

  A low staccato beep came from overhead. Noaz jumped like he’d been electrocuted, which shocked Maeve. Perhaps he hadn’t been as calm as she’d thought during his interrogation.

  “I have to answer that.” He took her arm and pulled her to her feet.

  She moved too fast, and her blurry vision couldn’t adjust. But before she could hit the deck, Noaz scooped her up in his arms.

  “Put me down,” she argued faintly for the principle of the matter. She really didn’t think she could stand right then, not with her brain trying to ooze from her ears.

  She could also confirm his muscles were real and not just advantageous padding in his uniform. They flexed with warmth through their clothing, and Maeve felt every step as he swept her across the central hold toward the back part of his ship.

  “You can stay in
my quarters until I return. Don’t touch anything. Open living quarters hatch,” Noaz instructed.

  For a second, Maeve thought he was talking to her. Then a disembodied voice said, “Shall I answer Beta Rayner and say you’ll be just a moment and that you’re putting to bed a human prisoner?”

  “Who’s that?” Maeve asked, eyes wide. The hatch opened, motion sensor lights flicking on to illuminate the space.

  “My AI.” He carried her into the room and gently sat her down on a bed. To the lyrical feminine voice overhead, he added, “Don’t answer anything. I’ll be to the bridge shortly.”

  Maeve had her lip caught between her teeth, and her thoughts were racing too quickly to catch. When he was almost at the door, she blurted out, “Are you going to kill me?”

  Noaz paused. He glanced back. But he was too far away for Maeve to read his reaction to her question clearly. She hoped his hesitation meant he was shocked that she would even think such a thing or, at least, that he was uncertain. Maybe she’d won him over with her nerdy intelligence and stellar smile.

  The beeping sounded again, louder this time, and Noaz left without answering.

  The hatch closed behind him.

  4

  Noaz

  Noaz swung himself into the command chair on his ship’s bridge. He really didn’t want to talk to his Beta, Rayner, right now. The Vilkas’ second in command was a good guy, loyal to their Alpha, and someone you wanted on your side in a fight, but he was also a stickler for the rules, which didn’t bode well for the situation Noaz had found himself in.

  The low tone beeped again. What was he going to say? As if a tether was pulling him back to his living quarters, he glanced over his shoulder. She was on the other end of his ship, but he could still smell her as if she were right in front of him, fear clouding her scent, but also a hint of excitement and something sweeter, something Noaz couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was wonder or awe. It made him want to reach out and push a piece of loose, tangled dark hair away from her face to soothe her fear.

  But that wasn’t protocol. Not that any sort of protocol for taking aboard a human prisoner existed. If it had, Noaz guessed he’d be doing it entirely wrong.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling, though. His instincts screamed that the girl wasn’t dangerous to Kladuu; she was just excited. A scientist. That kind of thinking was something the Vilkas encouraged and celebrated in their clan. Of course, that thinking didn’t apply to humans, who had always been the enemy with their focus on stealing minerals and leaving behind ruined planets. But there was something about this female that didn’t seem like the savage destroyer of worlds he’d always been told humans were.

  Feelings and instincts aside, the hard fact remained that if he didn’t report her and the ship he’d brought on board, he would be punished. His thoughtless actions could not only put his career and his life in danger, but also his entire planet.

  “Suns above,” he cursed.

  He pressed the communicator and waited. He still didn’t know what he was going to say.

  A sliver of static came across the channel before Rayner’s voice said, “Noaz?”

  “Missions recap delayed due to a solar storm. Radiation levels leaked through the wormhole.” Noaz lied through his teeth and didn’t even care. He hadn’t planned on it, but now that it was out, he couldn’t go back.

  “Why the hell are you just sitting beside the wormhole? The tracking mod says you disappeared for a couple minutes. Did you go inside it?”

  “Yes, sir. Had to slip over to avoid a flare-up.”

  “I’m not reading any storm, Corporal.”

  “It’s sporadic, but I already had an isotope burst through the hull. The nanites have their work cut out fixing it. That’s why I’m not moving at the moment.”

  Noaz was a good soldier, a loyal clan member, and one of the only Vilkas willing to take on long-term solo missions.

  Rayner was only a few years older than him and had grown up in the servant tunnels of their clan’s home the same way Noaz had. They had a good understanding of each other and mutual respect. The Beta would let this slide.

  Noaz wasn’t breaking that many orders. Yet.

  Plus, he needed more time to question Maeve. Her name melted in his mind, soothing his tense shoulders. How he handled her knowledge of the wormhole could be the difference between life and death for her, and just like when he’d risked pulling her back through the wormhole’s nexus, something told him in his gut she was worth the risk.

  “Get going as soon as you can and keep the ship’s cloaking on. We don’t need any of those Falconers seeing you on their scans while you’re that close to the opening.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He signed off and double-checked his coordinates before standing.

  “She’s dangerous, Noaz.” His AI didn’t sound saucy this time, just worried.

  “I know,” he murmured.

  On his way back to his quarters and the human, he told himself he was still in control of the situation. Still in control of her.

  5

  Maeve

  Maeve rolled to her side, her body melting into the soft mattress beneath her. She’d just meant to close her eyes for a second, but she had the vague sense she’d nodded off, that time had slipped by without her awareness. Lost and unaccounted for.

  Like her.

  She sat up on the bed, grateful her little nap had eased her dizziness. Beneath her, the bed was large and tucked away in the corner of the room like whoever slept here was less interested in the bed than he was in having a comfortable space to spend time in. The darker toned walls and cool air gave the room a relaxed feel. A porthole on the ship’s side showed a nebulous scene of space. Unlike the central hold, this room had cushions inset in the floor and a sprawling desk. Just normal enough to make her think she might be going crazy. But then her eyes caught on something abnormal, like the strange blue glow emitted from the walls themselves or tech screens scrolling unfamiliar scrawls of symbols she’d never seen before.

  “Get it together, Maeve,” she whispered.

  The living quarter’s door slid open with a gust of compressed air, and he swaggered in. “You need sustenance,” he stated.

  Stopping at the end of the bed, he sat the tray down next to her. She didn’t bother looking at the food, even though her stomach growled with hunger. Why did his rugged face make her stomach dip like this? She had to have a concussion or something severe. Stockholm syndrome for sure.

  “I’m not having sex with you,” she blurted out.

  Noaz faltered. He went to shove his hair back from his face but then stopped, dropping his arm down to his side. “I bring you an offering of food, nothing else. It’s edible, but probably not what you’re—”

  “I mean, you know, like in the movies when the rogue captain tumbles into bed with the green-skinned alien seductress.”

  He stared at her open-mouthed. What looked like a blush dotted the skin beneath the stubble of his beard.

  But she’d started and now she couldn’t stop. This was why she preferred numbers over words. Numbers never did this to her, never made her nerves twist up in her belly and her fingertips tremble. Before she knew it, the words were running away from her. Again.

  “Or in all those cheesy science fiction romances where the alien abducts a sexy woman from Earth and makes her his mate, and they have awesome, unrealistic sex with his giant penis that has all sorts of perfectly aligned notches and nubs.” She kept talking despite mentally slamming her head against the wall and begging her mouth to stop moving. “And they, like, never actually do anything besides stay in bed all the time, having one orgasm after another. I mean, personally, I can’t imagine it. Can you? To have that many orgasms? Like, who has the time? But I guess if the aliens had specially adapted penises perfect for pleasuring someone, then it might not be so much work.”

  “Ah,” he started. He was certainly blushing, and it only made her even more nervous.

  “D
o you have a weirdly shaped penis?” She couldn’t help but look as if his uniform had suddenly spontaneously torn from his body.

  He coughed. “No. At least, I assume it’s normally shaped.”

  Her heart might beat straight out of her chest. Only she could have discovered a wormhole, been sucked through it, and been taken prisoner by an alien, only to die of mortification on his bed.

  She blinked up at him, tears swimming before her blurry vision. Noaz looked like he might reach out and take her hand, but he put his hands on his hips instead and looked around his quarters like the answer to dealing with a crazy human prisoner was written in the weird glowing lights.

  “Have you decided?” she whispered, still trembling, her body awash with embarrassment and fear.

  “Decided what?”

  “If you’re going to kill me.”

  He watched her lips form the words. Maeve stilled beneath his gaze, waiting for his answer. “No,” he finally said. “I won’t hurt you, Maeve.”

  “Oh. Okay. That’s good.” She nodded. “That’s really good. I don’t want to die.”

  Still nodding, the dam broke inside her, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She ducked her head, her hair falling over her shoulders.

  The bed dipped beside her, and Noaz’s warm presence burned against her side as he bundled her into his arms and simply hugged her. Without pausing to consider her actions, she turned her face into his chest and finally felt the weight of her near-death experience in the wormhole. She’d come so close to never making another discovery again.