“Welcome to my pod, Rok. Please stay for the weekly meal so we can discuss Lily”—he glanced at Lamira—“and other matters further.”
He arched a brow. What in the veck were the other matters? He really didn’t have time to spare—his crew waited for him in the ship, and they’d made the dangerous trip to Ocretia just for him to recharge.
“His crew,” the human murmured.
Smart, for a human.
Zander’s gaze flicked to her and back. “Your crew is also welcome.”
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He nodded once, slowly. “I’ll go ask them, then. They may not want to stay.” Mainly because he and three of his crewmembers had warrants out for their arrest for smuggling in Ocretia.
“Prince Zander does not work for the Ocretian government,” the human said.
A tingle washed over his skin. Did she read minds?
Zander shot her a warning look, but she laced her fingers in front of her, looking serene. “Many of us have reason to hide from them.” She met his gaze squarely.
She certainly would, if she possessed mind reading powers. Humans with any aberrant traits were exterminated immediately. The Ocretions bred their slaves for only one thing—servility.
Reason told him to get the veck out of there, fast. She knew about the warrants. It was probably a trap. She was Lily’s sister, after all, and that human had ruined the past eight months of his life. But his gut said to stay. Besides, curiosity nipped at his heels.
He wanted to know what this quirky human was doing with the prince of his species, and what they wanted from him. Because he sure as stars knew they both wanted something.
~.~
Lily dodged the flying debris from the firebombs, a sob stuttering in her too-dry throat.
Dead. The entire enclave of escaped slaves had just been found and demolished. If she hadn’t been out foraging for food, she’d be dead, too.
Tears streaked her cheeks. They’d been like family to her. For the past eight months, she’d been free. Yes, it had been hard. Hiding out on the planet of Jesel, they’d hoped to emulate those humans who had fought for freedom there and won over four hundred years ago.
But Jesel had been in the midst of another war and had fallen to the Republicans once again. And, funny, but the Republicans hadn’t cared that she and her fellow escaped slaves weren’t from Jesel. They were killing every human they could find.
She needed to get the veck off this planet, and fast. The trouble was, she had no one in the universe. No one to message, nowhere to go that would be safe for an escaped human slave.
Stumbling through the smoke, coughing the polluted air, she scrambled down into a crevasse, where she could at least breathe. Her eyes stung from the smoke and ash, and her knees, elbows, and chin were bloody from when she’d been knocked on her belly by the blast.
A shallow river sliced through the canyon, and she waded right into it, dropping to her knees, cupping the water in her hands and splashing the ash from her face. She screamed when a dark serpent shot out of the reeds and bit her ankle.
Vecking hell. She wished she’d died with the others.
She wouldn’t survive out here alone. There were too many wild animals and natural dangers, even if she didn’t have to worry about being hunted down and killed by the Republicans. She’d probably be better off using her laser gun on herself to save the terror and suffering of starving to death or being killed.
Veck that.
Her self-preservation instincts kicked in. She was a survivor. She’d somehow kept her soul after all these years in captivity, and now she was sure as veck going to keep it now that she’d found freedom. If she had to learn to live alone in the caves cut into these canyon walls, she would.
She heard a whistle to the left of her—a decidedly human whistle—and then an arrow whizzed by her head and hit the rock beside her. She grabbed the arrow and started running before she’d even figured out from which direction it had come.
In another moment, she was on the ground, pinned down by a large human male. “I got her,” he cried triumphantly in the ancient language once used on Earth. “Wait till you see her—she’s about as tasty as they come.”
A fraction of her fear eased. If they were interested in using her body, she’d convince them to let her live. This was one situation—perhaps the only one—she knew how to handle.
~.~
Rok had never eaten so well in his life. The food served at Zander’s table had been exquisite. They dined in his Great Hall, a magnificent room in his palatial pod. The walls were brightly colored, and crystals magnified the sunlight in here, too. Most fascinating, though, was the plethora of potted plants that made the room appear like a lush jungle. Food-bearing plants, from the looks of them.
An exiled prince lived a far different existence than the escaped laborer’s son. A large group of Zandians had gathered for the meal along a long row of tables. Almost all were male, save a few elderly females, which explained why the prince had taken an alien mate. Still, his choice of a human surprised Rok. Although Lamira was admittedly special.