Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
My eyes flew open just in time to see a look of utter shock pass over Jorg’s face. His mouth opened in a silent scream as a crimson stain blossomed on his chest, spreading rapidly across his uniform. The blaster slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor as he stumbled backward.
For a moment, he remained upright, swaying slightly as if caught in some macabre dance. Then, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he collapsed. His body hit the floor with a dull thud, lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
I lay there, frozen in disbelief, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. The acrid smell of ozone filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. In the sudden silence, I could hear my own ragged breathing and the faint crackle of electrical fires still burning somewhere in the ship.
Footsteps approached from behind, slow and deliberate. I tensed, unable to turn my head to see who—or what—was coming. The restraints suddenly felt tighter, more confining than they had ever felt before.
My heart pounded in my chest as I strained against my bonds, desperate to see the source of those measured footsteps. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an electric tension that made the fine hairs on my arms stand on end.
A shadow fell across me, impossibly large. I caught a glimpse of deep blue in my peripheral vision, so vibrant it seemed to pulse with its own inner light. Slowly, almost reluctantly, I turned my head as far as my restraints would allow.
My breath caught in my throat as I beheld the figure looming over me. He was massive, easily seven feet tall, with broad shoulders that seemed to fill the entire doorway. His skin was a rich, cerulean blue that shimmered slightly in the dim light of the comfort room, like the surface of a calm ocean under a moonlit sky.
He wore a Magisterian captain’s uniform, the crisp lines and gleaming insignia strange amid the chaos surrounding us. The fabric stretched taut across his muscular frame, hinting at the raw power contained within. In one enormous hand, he held a sleek, advanced-looking weapon—undoubtedly the source of the shot that had felled Lieutenant Jorg.
But it was his face that truly captured my attention. Chiseled features that could have been carved from blue marble stared down at me, a study in contrasts. His jaw was strong and square, his cheekbones high and pronounced. Yet his eyes… his eyes were what made my breath hitch.
They were a swirling mix of silver and violet, like twin galaxies contained within his gaze. And in their depths, I saw something wholly unexpected: compassion. Warmth. An understanding that seemed to penetrate straight to my core.
For a long moment, we simply stared at each other. I felt revealed in a way that went beyond my physical nakedness, as if those mesmerizing eyes could see every thought, every fear, every secret I’d ever held.
Then, he spoke. His voice was deep and resonant, like distant thunder rolling across a vast plain. Yet there was a gentleness to it, a careful modulation that seemed at odds with his imposing presence.
“Hello,” he said, the word somehow both commanding and soothing at once. “I’m Captain Alpha. I’m here to rescue you, I suppose.”
I blinked, my mind struggling to process his words. Rescue? The concept seemed almost foreign after so long as a captive. And yet… there was something in his tone, a certainty that made me want to believe.
They had told us, in the humiliating training school where I had learned the duties of a starfleet concubine, that if the Magisterians captured me, I would long for my Vionian masters. As brutal as the crew of the Conqueror of Bresla had been in their use of my body, I had felt certain that the alternative would be much worse. Given to the enlisted men of the Magisterian marines, I would be fucked to death in their mess hall—the inevitable fate of every captured Vionian concubine.
“What’s your name, honey?” Captain Alpha asked in a voice so deep it seemed to shake the bench beneath me.
Honey?
“I wouldn’t tell you,” I said, “even if I thought you cared.”
CHAPTER 3
Tessara
To my astonishment, Captain Alpha sighed.
“That’s what your Vionian masters told you, I suppose,” he said.
I stared up into the extraordinarily handsome, extraordinarily blue face, my mind reeling. His words seemed to hang in the air between us, heavy with implications I couldn’t quite grasp. Part of me wanted to believe him, to trust the kindness I saw in those otherworldly eyes. But years of conditioning and fear weren’t so easily overcome.
“You… you want me to think you’re different,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That the Magisterians aren’t the monsters we’ve been told about. But I know better.”