THE KRINAR CAPTIVE

ANNA ZAIRES

♠ Mozaika Publications ♠

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Excerpt from Close Liaisons

Excerpt from Twist Me

Excerpt from Capture Me

About the Author

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 Anna Zaires and Dima Zales

www.annazaires.com

All rights reserved.

Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

Published by Mozaika Publications, an imprint of Mozaika LLC.

www.mozaikallc.com

Cover by Okay Creations

www.okaycreations.com

e-ISBN: 978-1-63142-189-1

ISBN: 978-1-63142-190-7

CHAPTER ONE

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Please, please, please, I don’t want to die.

The words kept repeating in her mind, a hopeless prayer that would never be heard. Her fingers slipped another inch on the rough wooden board, her nails breaking as she tried to maintain her grip.

Emily Ross was hanging by her fingernails—literally—off a broken old bridge. Hundreds of feet below, water rushed over the rocks, the mountain stream full from recent rains.

Those rains were partially responsible for her current predicament. If the wood on the bridge had been dry, she might not have slipped, twisting her foot in the process. And she certainly wouldn’t have fallen onto the rail that had broken under her weight.

It was only a last-minute desperate grab that had prevented Emily from plummeting to her death below. As she was falling, her right hand had caught a small protrusion on the side of the bridge, leaving her dangling in the air hundreds of feet above the hard rocks.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Please, please, please, I don’t want to die.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. This was her vacation, her regain-sanity time. How could she die now? She hadn’t even begun living yet.

Images of the last two years slid through Emily’s brain, like the PowerPoint presentations she’d spent so many hours making. Every late night, every weekend spent in the office—it had all been for nothing. She’d lost her job during the layoffs, and now she was about to lose her life.

No, no!

Emily’s legs flailed, her nails digging deeper into the wood. Her other arm reached up, stretching toward the bridge. This wouldn’t happen to her. She wouldn’t let it. She had worked too hard to let a stupid jungle bridge defeat her.

Blood ran down her arm as the rough wood tore the skin off her fingers, but she ignored the pain. Her only hope of survival lay in trying to grab onto the side of the bridge with her other hand, so she could pull herself up. There was no one around to rescue her, no one to save her if she didn’t save herself.

The possibility that she might die alone in the rainforest had not occurred to Emily when she’d embarked on this trip. She was used to hiking, used to camping. And even after the hell of the past two years, she was still in good shape, strong and fit from running and playing sports all through high school and college. Costa Rica was considered a safe destination, with a low crime rate and tourist-friendly population. It was inexpensive too—an important factor for her rapidly dwindling savings account.

She’d booked this trip before. Before the market had fallen again, before another round of layoffs that had cost thousands of Wall Street workers their jobs. Before Emily went to work on Monday, bleary-eyed from working all weekend, only to leave the office the same day with all her possessions in a small cardboard box.

Before her four-year relationship had fallen apart.

Her first vacation in two years, and she was going to die.

No, don’t think that way. It won’t happen.

But Emily knew she was lying to herself. She could feel her fingers slipping farther, her right arm and shoulder burning from the strain of supporting the weight of her entire body. Her left hand was inches away from reaching the side of the bridge, but those inches could’ve easily been miles. She couldn’t get a strong enough grip to lift herself up with one arm.

Do it, Emily! Don’t think, just do it!

Gathering all her strength, she swung her legs in the air, using the momentum to bring her body higher for a fraction of a second. Her left hand grabbed onto the protruding board, clutched at it… and the fragile piece of wood snapped, startling her into a terrified scream.

Emily’s last thought before her body hit the rocks was the hope that her death would be instant.

The smell of jungle vegetation, rich and pungent, teased Zaron’s nostrils. He inhaled deeply, letting the humid air fill his lungs. It was clean here, in this tiny corner of Earth, almost as unpolluted as on his home planet.

He needed this now. Needed the fresh air, the isolation. For the past six months, he’d tried to run from his thoughts, to exist only in the moment, but he’d failed. Even blood and sex were not enough for him anymore. He could distract himself while fucking, but the pain always came back afterwards, as strong as ever.

Finally, it had gotten to be too much. The dirt, the crowds, the stink of humanity. When he wasn’t lost in a fog of ecstasy, he was disgusted, his senses overwhelmed from spending so much time in human cities. It was better here, where he could breathe without inhaling poison, where he could smell life instead of chemicals. In a few years, everything would be different, and he might try living in a human city again, but not yet.

Not until they were fully settled here.

That was Zaron’s job: to oversee the settlements. He had been doing research on Earth fauna and flora for decades, and when the Council requested his assistance with the upcoming colonization, he hadn’t hesitated. Anything was better than being home, where memories of Larita’s presence were everywhere.

There were no memories here. For all of its similarities to Krina, this planet was strange and exotic. Seven billion Homo sapiens on Earth—an unthinkable number—and they were multiplying at a dizzying pace. With their short lifespans and the resulting lack of long-term thinking, they were consuming their planet’s resources with utter disregard for the future. In some ways, they reminded him of Schistocerca gregaria—a species of locusts he’d studied several years ago.

Of course, humans were more intelligent than insects. A few individuals, like Einstein, were even Krinar-like in some aspects of their thinking. It wasn’t particularly surprising to Zaron; he had always thought this might be the intent of the Elders’ grand experiment.

Walking through the Costa Rican forest, he found himself thinking about the task at hand. This part of the planet was promising; it was easy to picture edible plants from Krina thriving here. He had done extensive tests on the soil, and he had some ideas on how to make it even more hospitable to Krinar flora.

All around him, the forest was lush and green, filled with the fragrance of blooming heliconias and the sounds of rustling leaves and native birds. In the distance, he could hear the cry of an Alouatta palliata, a howler monkey native to Costa Rica, and something else.

Frowning, Zaron listened closer, but the sound didn’t repeat.

Curious, he headed in that direction, his hunting instincts on alert. For a second, the sound had reminded him of a woman’s scream.

Moving through the thick jungle vegetation with ease, Zaron put on a burst of speed, leaping over a small creek and the bushes that stood in his way. Out here, away from human eyes, he could move like a Krinar without worrying about exposure. Within a couple of minutes, he was close enough to pick up the scent. Sharp and coppery, it made his mouth water and his cock stir.

It was blood.

Human blood.

Reaching his destination, Zaron stopped, staring at the sight in front of him.

In front of him was a river, a mountain stream swollen from recent rains. And on the large black rocks in the middle, beneath an old wooden bridge spanning the gorge, was a body.

A broken, twisted body of a human girl.

CHAPTER TWO

Swearing under his breath, Zaron jumped into the river. Had he been human, the powerful current would’ve instantly carried him away. As it was, he had to use all of his strength to swim across the foaming water. Several times his kicking legs struck underwater rocks, but he ignored the pain. Bruises were nothing to those of his kind; by the time he reached the boulders ahead, the injuries would already be healed.

Finally, he was there, clambering up onto the slippery rocks and crouching beside the girl lying there. She was alive; he could hear her weak, erratic heartbeat and the gurgling sounds of her breathing.

She was alive, but judging by her injuries, she wouldn’t be much longer.

Her lower body was twisted at a strange angle, and her slender limbs were broken in several places, with bone fragments protruding from torn, pale flesh. Half of her face was covered with blood, the dark red liquid oozing sullenly from a deep gash in the side of her skull. Her short-sleeved shirt hid most of the damage to her torso, but Zaron suspected she was hemorrhaging internally, her ribcage likely shattered by her fall.

His stomach tightening with a mixture of pity and strange despair, Zaron stared at the broken human. She was young and, from what he could see, quite pretty. Long pale blond hair, clear skin, a slim, shapely build… If she hadn’t been on the verge of death, he might’ve been attracted to her.

But she was as good as dead. At best, she had a few more minutes to live. With such extensive injuries, it was surprising that her heart was beating at all. Humans were fragile creatures, easily hurt and slow to heal. He doubted human doctors would be able to fix her, even if they managed to get here in time. Krinar medicine could save her, of course, but Zaron didn’t have anything on him, and the girl was unlikely to survive the trip to his house.

Lifting his hand, he lightly touched the uninjured side of her face, running his fingers along her jawline. Her skin was soft and smooth, like that of a baby. A sharp pang of regret pierced his chest; under different circumstances, he would’ve very much enjoyed her.

Suddenly, a small broken sound escaped her throat, startling Zaron. And then, much to his shock, her eyes opened.

Framed by thick brown lashes, they were a bright blue-green and strikingly beautiful.

For a moment, she seemed disoriented, those sea-colored eyes clouded with pain, but then her gaze sharpened, focusing on his face.

She knew she was about to die. Zaron could see it on her face. She knew, and she was fighting it with every cell of her being.

Her mouth moved, her lips opening in a wordless plea, and he knew what he had to do.

Reaching for the girl, Zaron gently picked her up, cradling her against his chest.

It was almost certain she would not survive the trip, but he couldn’t let her go like this.

Nobody who clung to life so fiercely should have to die without a fight.

The trip seemed to take forever, though Zaron ran as fast as he could, taking care not to jostle the girl too much. The hardest part had been the river; battling the current with one hand while holding the girl above the water with another had been challenging even for him.

She was unconscious again. He could hear the harsh rattling in her lungs, and he knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Her face was deathly pale, her skin cold and clammy from the river.

Finally, they were there.

Carrying her into his dwelling, Zaron carefully laid her on his bed. A sharp voice command and one of the walls opened, allowing jansha—a small, tubular healing device—to float toward him. Grabbing it from mid-air, Zaron placed it on the bed before starting to undress the girl. She wasn’t wearing much—just a T-shirt and cut-off jeans—and he made short work of her clothing, his chest tightening at the sight of protruding bones and torn flesh.

Picking up the device, he ran it over her nude body, letting it diagnose her injuries. As he had suspected, they were extensive. Aside from damage to her internal organs, she had a spinal cord injury. Even if she had managed to survive, she would’ve been paralyzed from the waist down.

There were other injuries as well. Broken bones, a gash on her skull, scrapes and bruises—those all seemed to be from her accident. However, there were signs of an earlier trauma as well. At some point, she’d broken her wrist, and there was scar tissue on her leg from some other mishap. She’d also been subjected to primitive human dental care, with some of her teeth hollowed out and patched up with non-organic filling.

Zaron hesitated only for a moment before enabling jansha’s complete healing mode. If he had more time and her injuries weren’t so severe, he could’ve calibrated the device to focus on specific wounds. But as it was, a full-body procedure was her best chance at survival.

The device vibrated for a second, releasing the healing nanocytes, and Zaron watched as the girl’s damaged flesh began to knit together, each of her cells regenerating from within.

CHAPTER THREE

Slowly waking up, Emily became aware of the fact that she felt good.

Really, truly good.

She was neither hot nor cold, and the blanket covering her was of just the right weight and thickness. The mattress underneath her was incredibly comfortable as well; it was as though she was sleeping on something custom-made for her body. She was also surprisingly relaxed. The ever-present tension in the back of her neck was absent for the first time in months.

A smile of contentment curved her lips, and Emily snuggled deeper under the covers. This had to be the best night of sleep she’d had in ages. She could hardly believe it had occurred at a cheap little inn in a remote area of Costa Rica.

It had to be the fresh air and exercise, she decided, still reluctant to open her eyes. All that hiking must’ve worn her out. Hiking… Something buzzed at the back of her brain, something disturbing—

The fall off the bridge! Gasping, Emily jackknifed into a sitting position, her eyes flying open.

She wasn’t at the inn.

She also wasn’t dead.

For a second, those two facts seemed irreconcilable. If she had dreamed the entire horrible event, shouldn’t she have woken up at the last place she remembered going to sleep? And if it hadn’t been a dream, where was she? Why wasn’t she dead, or at least badly injured?

Her heart racing, Emily took in her surroundings, clutching the blanket protectively to her chest. She could feel the soft material brushing against her body—her naked body—and the realization that she wasn’t wearing any clothes increased her panic a thousandfold.

Where the hell was she?

It wasn’t a hospital, she was sure of that.

She was sitting on a large round bed that had the weirdest mattress texture she’d ever come across. Neither traditional spring nor memory foam, it seemed to be shaping itself to her body. The impression was so strong she could practically feel the thing moving underneath her.

Other than the bed, the room was completely empty. Emily couldn’t even discern the source of light that bathed everything in a soft glow. The walls, floor, and ceiling were cream-colored, as were the sheets on the strange bed.

There were also no windows or doors.

What the fuck?

Feeling like she was hyperventilating, Emily tried to take deep, calming breaths. There had to be an explanation for this—a rational explanation. She just had to figure out what it was.

Moving cautiously, she scooted to the edge of the bed and swung her feet down to the floor. The fact that she could move so easily, with no pain or soreness, was disconcerting. If she hadn’t imagined falling off that bridge, shouldn’t she have at least a couple of broken bones? The alternative—that it had all been a vivid dream—didn’t make much sense in light of her current location.

Standing up, Emily pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself, trying not to give in to the panic that fluttered at the edge of her mind, when part of the wall in front of her dissolved.

It literally dissolved, letting a man enter the room.

Tall and powerfully built, he stepped through the opening as casually as one would walk through a doorway, his large body moving with fluid, athletic ease.

“Hello, Emily,” he said softly, his dark eyes trained on her. “I didn’t expect you to be awake so soon.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Struck speechless, all Emily could do was stare.

The man in front of her was stunning.

Not attractive. Not good-looking. Not even handsome.

Absolutely stunning.

His glossy black hair was longish on top and so thick it added inches to his already-impressive height. His face was sharply masculine and boasted the most perfect features Emily had ever seen. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, full lips—it was as though some sculptor had decided to make a template for a Greek god. Even his bronzed skin appeared flawless, as if on a picture that had been airbrushed.

He looked foreign, exotic… and drop-dead gorgeous. Emily had no idea what race or ethnicity he was, but she had never seen anyone so beautiful. She hadn’t even known men like him existed.

And he knew her name.

As soon as that fact registered, her heartbeat spiked again and the reality of her situation hit home. It didn’t matter what the man looked like; what Emily needed to know was where she was and what had happened to her.

“Who are you?” she asked, clutching the blanket tighter to herself. “What is this place? How do you know my name?”

His gaze was dark and unreadable. “Your driver’s license was in your wallet,” he said softly, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “It contained some information about you, Emily Ross from New York City.”

Emily blinked. “Right, okay. And you happened to have my wallet because…?”

“Because it was in the pocket of your shorts,” he said, advancing farther into the room. The wall behind him re-solidified, the entrance disappearing as though it had never been there in the first place.

Emily felt the fine hair on the back of her neck rising. “What the hell is this place? Where am I?” She could hear the hysterical edge in her voice, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. In a slightly calmer tone, she asked, “What happened to me?”

“Have a seat, Emily.” The man motioned in the direction of the bed. “You still need to rest. Your body has been through a serious trauma.”

Emily took a step back, ignoring his suggestion. “Are you saying that I did fall off the bridge?” She felt like she was in an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Is this a hospital? Are you a doctor?”

His sensuous lips curved in a faint smile. “Not exactly, but you can think of me as such.”

“Is this some kind of research facility?”

“No.” The man looked vaguely amused. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Well, what is it like?” Emily demanded in frustration. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Zaron.” Walking over to the bed, he sat down on it, stretching out his long muscular legs. For the first time, Emily registered the fact that he was dressed casually, in a pair of blue jeans and a white sleeveless shirt that exposed bronzed, thickly muscled arms. On his feet, he wore a pair of gray sandals, and his only accessory was a strange-looking watch on his left wrist. If he was a doctor, he certainly wasn’t dressed as such.

“Zaron?” she repeated, frowning. “Is that your first or last name?”

He just continued looking at her, his dark gaze inscrutable, and Emily swallowed, realizing that he had no intention of answering her. “Okay, Zaron,” she said slowly, emphasizing his strange name, “what happened to me? Why am I here?”

“You fell off the bridge, Emily.” His voice was calm, his perfect face expressionless. “I found you and brought you here.”

“Right, uh-huh.” She gave him a disbelieving stare. “And how is it that I am perfectly fine?”

“Are you hungry?”

“What?” Emily blinked, startled by the change of topic.

“I asked if you’re hungry,” he repeated patiently, watching her with those dark, exotically beautiful eyes. “You didn’t eat anything for two days while you were healing. Would you like some food?” There was something in his gaze that reminded her of her cat George—an odd intensity that made her feel like a mouse about to be played with.

All of a sudden, the comparison seemed very apt—and extremely threatening. “What I would like is something to wear,” Emily said evenly, acutely aware of the fact that she was butt-naked under the blanket and locked in a room with a strange man.

A very large, very muscular man.

Who had likely stripped her naked earlier.

Her palms began to sweat, and her heart rate accelerated further. For the first time, the full extent of her vulnerability dawned on Emily. The man sitting on the bed wasn’t only gorgeous; he was also big. Much bigger—and undoubtedly much stronger—than Emily herself. At five-foot-seven, she was above average in height, but Zaron was at least a full head taller, with steely muscle packed on every inch of his broad-shouldered frame.

If he decided to hurt her, there wasn’t a single thing she could do to stop him.

Some of what she was feeling must’ve shown on her face because he rose to his feet, his powerful body uncoiling in a strangely graceful motion. “Of course,” he said softly. “I will bring you some clothes right away.”

And as Emily watched in shock, the wall dissolved again, letting him step out through the opening, and then immediately re-solidified, locking her in.

As soon as the wall closed behind him, Zaron drew in a deep breath, his hands tightening into fists. He could feel the heavy pounding of his heart, and his entire body was taut, his cock hard and swollen with need. He was grateful she’d kept her eyes trained on his face as he exited the room; if she had looked down, her natural female wariness would’ve morphed into outright fear—and with good reason.

The strength of his physical reaction to her was disturbing. Even now, Zaron could smell the faint sweetness of her scent, and his hands itched to touch her again, to feel the softness of her creamy skin under his fingers. It had taken all of his willpower to leave, to step away from her instead of doing what his body demanded and burying himself deep inside her silken flesh.

He hadn’t wanted a woman this much in years.

Eight years, to be exact.

The realization was like a punch to the gut. For a moment, the memories threatened to consume Zaron again, to drag him down into the black pit of despair. It was only through sheer willpower that he was able to turn his thoughts back to the human girl—a much safer subject to dwell on.

For the past two days, he’d taken care of her every need, ensuring that she would be clean and comfortable as she healed. He’d bathed her, washed her hair, and kept watch over her as she slept. At this point, he was more intimately acquainted with her body than with that of most women he’d fucked, yet he was still a stranger to her.

A stranger who could barely contain his lust for her.

He wasn’t sure when his desire to help the girl had turned into this deep, uncontrollable hunger. In the beginning, all he had seen was a broken creature to be fixed—a fragile human who clung to life with surprising determination. He had wanted to heal her injuries, to stop her suffering, and sex had been the last thing on his mind.

At some point over the last two days, however, that had changed. As her body mended, he’d begun to notice the fullness of her breasts, the softness of her lips, the sensuous dimples at the base of her spine… Although slender, her figure was deliciously feminine, and after a while, all he had been able to think about was touching her, tasting her… fucking her.

It was insane. Though beautiful, the girl was far from his usual type. During his time on Earth, Zaron had discovered that he liked tall, sleek brunettes who reminded him of Krinar women, not delicate-looking blondes with unmistakably human coloring. No Krinar had hair so light or eyes of that strange bluish shade, but on her—on Emily—that combination seemed oddly appealing, reminding him of the illustrations of angels he’d seen in human books. As far as her species went, his little guest was more than pretty.

She was downright exquisite.

At least his cock seemed convinced of that fact.

Taking another deep breath, Zaron forced his hands to unclench, determined to regain his equilibrium. He had no idea why he wanted this human girl so badly, but patience was key here. Patience and self-control. He didn’t want to scare her. She was already confused and anxious from waking up in a strange place, in a condition that no human could easily comprehend. He would have to be careful with her, to reveal the truth to her gradually so she wouldn’t panic.

He didn’t want her to be afraid of him when she came to his bed.

And she would come to him. That much Zaron was certain of. A quick background check on his guest had revealed that she was unmarried with no kids, living alone in a small studio in the Manhattan borough of New York City. She was unclaimed, and Zaron wanted her more than he had wanted any woman since Larita.

He wanted her, and he intended to have her.

All he needed was a little patience.

CHAPTER FIVE

Emily waited for Zaron to return, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

After he left, she’d gone to that same wall and touched it, trying to figure out how it worked. Surely there had to be a sliding mechanism of some sort, and the wall only looked like it was dissolving.

To her disappointment, she hadn’t found anything, although she did learn that the wall had a strange texture. It felt warm under her fingertips—warm and smooth, almost like a living thing. She had entertained herself for a minute by stroking it, but then she got tired of that activity and sat down on the bed to wait for the strange not-exactly-doctor to return.

For the first time in her adult life, Emily had no idea what to do. She was always the calm, resourceful one—the one who could tackle any problem in an orderly, analytical manner and arrive at a workable solution. This situation, however, was not something she’d ever encountered. She had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there, or even how she was alive. Everything about this felt surreal, from the exotically beautiful man with his foreign-sounding name to the room that reminded her of something out of science fiction.

Could this be some secret government research facility after all? Zaron had denied it, but then again, what incentive would he have to tell the truth? This whole place—whatever it was—might be classified, and he could potentially get in trouble for telling her anything.

The fact that she was entertaining conspiracy theories about secret government labs amused Emily on some level. She had always been a rational, common-sense person, not someone given to flights of fancy. Even as a child, she’d never believed in Santa Claus or things that go bump in the night; those possibilities had never seemed logical to her—any more than secret government labs in Costa Rica seemed now.

But what was the alternative? The question gnawed at Emily, adding to her impatience. She couldn’t think of anything that would explain her current situation—other than her mind making up the entire event. Could that be it? Was it possible she’d hit her head and was lying in a hospital with a brain injury?

Before she could pursue that train of thought, the wall opened again and Zaron entered the room, moving with the same strange, flowing grace she’d noticed before.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a pale pink dress and a pair of white sandals. “You can get dressed if you wish.”

“Um, thanks,” Emily said uncertainly, taking the items from him. “Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Of course.” He crossed the room, heading to the opposite wall. “Come, let me show you.”

Emily followed him, wondering where the restroom could be hiding. As she got close to the wall, it dissolved again, creating an entryway into a small room. Zaron stepped in, motioning for her to join him.

“That’s the toilet,” he said, pointing toward a white cylindrical object in the corner when she came into the room. “You just sit on it, and it’ll take care of you. Then you can refresh yourself near that other corner.” He gestured toward a small sink-like protrusion. “If you need a shower later, I can show you how to operate it as well.”

Emily felt her face grow warm. “Okay, thanks. I should be able to take it from here. Can you please step out again? I just need a minute.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “Sure,” he said, and with one smooth motion, he was gone, leaving Emily alone again.

As soon as the wall closed, she dropped the blanket on the floor and pulled on the dress the man had provided. It was a sundress with thin straps. To Emily’s surprise, it fit her perfectly, gently hugging every curve of her body. Even her breasts felt comfortably supported by the thin yet sturdy lining in the bodice. The material was again something unusual. The texture was that of fleece, but with the lightweight feel of cotton. The sandals also fit her well; it was as though they’d been custom-made for her feet. There was no underwear, but Emily decided not to quibble about that for now. Just having some clothes was already a big improvement.

Next, she turned her attention to the strange toilet. It was an upright hollow cylinder with rounded edges. There was no water inside, nor was there any visible flushing mechanism attached. Zaron had said she was just supposed to sit on it. Emily hesitated for a minute, thinking it over, then hiked up the skirt of the dress and plopped down on the cylinder with a mental shrug.

A girl had to pee when she had to pee.

When she was done, she felt a warm breeze moving over her exposed flesh. Her skin tingled for a second, and Emily gasped, jumping off the cylinder. The tingling immediately faded. When she peeked back at the cylinder, she saw that it was spotless, as perfectly clean as it had been in the beginning. At the same time, she realized that she also felt clean and dry, even though she hadn’t used any toilet paper—another thing that was missing in this strange bathroom.

Frowning in confusion, Emily walked over to the sink-like object in the other corner. There were no faucets or buttons, so she just waved her hands at it, hoping it had motion sensors. Almost immediately, a warm stream of liquid came out, covering her hands with a pleasantly scented substance that vaguely resembled soap. Before Emily could rub her palms together, the substance evaporated, leaving her hands clean and dry.

A fancy hand sanitizer. Nice.

All pressing matters taken care of, Emily walked over to the wall where the entryway had been. At her approach, the entryway appeared again, as though it had sensed her coming.

“Right, okay,” she muttered, stepping through the opening before it had a chance to close again. As soon as she entered the bedroom, the doorway to the bathroom disappeared.

Emily stared at it for a few seconds, then shook her head. She needed to talk to Zaron and get some answers soon. This was ridiculous.

Spotting a movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned and saw that the entryway leading out of the room had appeared again. Zaron was standing on the other side of it.

“Come,” he said, motioning for her to step through the opening. “I’d like you to join me for lunch.”

“Okay, sure.” Emily cautiously stepped out, this time looking at the sides of the wall to see if she could figure out the way it operated. To her disappointment, there was no visible mechanism here either. The edges of the opening were smooth and polished, with no grooves or ridges to indicate any kind of sliding doors.

As soon as she was on the other side, the wall re-formed again, solidifying right in front of Emily’s eyes.

Unbelievable.

Turning toward Zaron, Emily glared at him in frustration. “How does this thing work?” she demanded, tapping at the wall. “What kind of material is that?”

Zaron looked at her calmly. “I could tell you its name, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you. As to how it works, I’m not a designer, and I wouldn’t be able to give you a good explanation.”

Not a designer? What did he mean by that? “Well, what are you then?”

A hint of a smile appeared on his gorgeous lips. “I’m what you would call a biologist, with an extra specialization in edaphology. I study all manner of living creatures as well as the soil that nourishes them.”

Emily blinked. “I see.” So he was a researcher of some kind. “And is this your lab?”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is my temporary home.”

Home? Emily looked around the room with disbelief. Like the bedroom she’d just left, everything around her was decorated in shades of ivory and cream, with a soft light coming from some indeterminate source. There were no windows or doors, and the furniture was again minimal. Other than a long white plank in the middle that resembled a flat bench and some blooming plants in the corners, the room was essentially empty.

Frowning, Emily took a step toward the bench-like plank. She was pretty sure her eyes were deceiving her because— “Is that thing hovering in the air?” she asked incredulously, kneeling down to peer underneath the plank. “Is it held up by some kind of magnets?”

“Of course not,” Zaron said, walking over to stand next to her. “It’s utilizing force-field technology.”

Still kneeling on all fours, Emily looked up at him. Looming over her, he looked even bigger—and powerfully male. An unwelcome tendril of fear slid down her spine again. “Force-field technology?” she repeated slowly, feeling like she’d fallen down a sci-fi rabbit hole. “What are you talking about?”

He watched her with a cool, dark gaze. “Why don’t we eat something and I’ll explain,” he suggested gently. His tone was soft, but Emily could hear the steel underneath. He had no intention of answering her questions right now.

“All right,” she said warily, starting to rise to her feet. “I just—” And then she almost gasped because his hand was on her elbow, helping her get up. His touch was light, solicitous, but there was something possessive in his grip, in the way his fingers lingered on her arm for an extra couple of seconds before letting go.

Her heart jumping into her throat, Emily took a step back, staring at him. As illogical as it was, she felt branded by his touch, her skin tingling where he had touched her. He was looking at her too, his eyes gleaming with some strange emotion. For the first time, Emily noticed that his irises were not dark brown as she’d initially thought—they were black.

Feeling completely off-balance, Emily did what she had always done during difficult times in her life.

She put on her cheerful mask.

“Okay,” she said brightly. “Let’s eat and chat.”

Amused by the girl’s sudden enthusiasm for the meal, Zaron led her to the kitchen.

He was glad he’d had the opportunity to touch her in a casual, non-sexual manner. It was important to get her accustomed to his touch. In many ways, seducing Emily would be like domesticating a wild creature. He needed to approach her slowly and gain her trust. She needed to believe he wouldn’t hurt her; otherwise, she would panic at the first hint of sexual intent on his part.

The good thing was that she was aware of him. It was the primitive female awareness of a healthy, attractive male. She might’ve been startled by his touch, but she had also been subtly aroused. It had been there in the slight dilation of her pupils and the rapid increase of her heartbeat. Her feminine scent had strengthened, too. If Zaron had touched the delicate folds between her thighs, he would’ve undoubtedly found her warm and slick, her body instinctively preparing itself for the mating act.

His people had discovered their sexual compatibility with Homo sapiens a long time ago. Although their species’ DNA was different enough that no interbreeding was possible, the efforts of the Elders had ensured that humans would be quite similar to the Krinar in terms of their outward appearance and body structure. Nobody knew why the Elders had chosen to do it that way, but the end result was a species that many Krinar found quite desirable as bed partners—especially given the aphrodisiac qualities of human blood.

And this particular human was more desirable than most, Zaron thought, watching as Emily stared in wide-eyed shock at the table and chairs in the kitchen. Like the couch in the living room, they were held in place by a force field of sorts, giving the impression that they were hovering in the air. To a typical twenty-first-century human, such technology had to seem rather magical—although most humans were now enlightened enough not to attribute everything to the supernatural.

Zaron was still debating how much he should tell the girl. Over the past two days, while he’d been taking care of her, he had thought about the possibility of revealing nothing—of pretending to be human. He had even considered taking her back to the bridge and leaving her there before she regained consciousness. Let her attribute her survival to a miracle or her fall to a dream, whatever was easier for her mind to accept. He had hesitated, however, his growing lust for her battling with his desire to avoid a potentially tricky situation—and then she had woken up, a couple of hours earlier than he’d expected.

Now he had a wary, confused human on his hands—a human who was regarding him with a frustrated look in her clear aquamarine eyes.

“Let me guess,” she said, waving toward the table. “More force-field technology?”

Zaron’s amusement deepened at the thinly veiled sarcasm in the girl’s question. “Yes, exactly,” he said, walking over to sit down on one of the floating chairs. The intelligent material immediately adjusted itself to his body, assessing his posture in order to provide the most comfortable sitting experience possible.

“You want me to sit on that?” Her voice rose. “On a board that floats in thin air?”

“You won’t fall, I promise,” Zaron said, stifling his urge to smile as the girl approached the table with all the enthusiasm of someone about to be tried for murder. “It’s quite nice, in fact.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, cautiously lowering herself onto the seat. Then her eyes widened. She must’ve felt the chair moving as it adjusted to her. Within seconds, she was sitting with her back fully supported, looking quite shocked.

This time Zaron couldn’t suppress a chuckle. He hadn’t expected to be enjoying this part, but he was. Introducing this little human to his world might be pleasurable in more ways than one, he thought, watching as she twisted around trying to see the back of her chair. Of course, the intelligent chair twisted with her, the back disappearing just as Emily tried to study it.

When she turned back to face him, the look on her face was indescribable. “Seriously, what is this stuff?” she demanded, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Where am I?”

Zaron laughed softly. “You’re in my house, Emily,” he said, patiently repeating the information he’d already given her. “And this stuff is my furniture.”

“What kind of furniture does that? The thing moved. It disappeared on me.”

“Yes, it did,” Zaron agreed. “It’s designed to shape itself to your body in order to provide the most comfort. When you turned around, it was no longer comfortable for you, so it adjusted itself.”

“Right, of course.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her temples with a pained expression on her face.

Immediately concerned, Zaron reached across the table and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” Humans were unbelievably frail, their bodies weak and prone to all kinds of maladies that were utterly alien to his people. Headaches, for instance. Zaron had never suffered from one except for a few brief moments after a head injury, but he knew it was a common affliction among Emily’s species.

At his touch, she jerked back, her eyes flying open. “Of course,” she said with that same false brightness. “I’m just peachy.” When Zaron continued looking at her doubtfully, she added, “No, seriously, I’m fine. I’m pretty sure I fell a couple of hundred feet, but I’m totally fine.”

Zaron chose to ignore the last part of her statement. “All right,” he said, leaning back. “But if you do have a headache, let me know. I can fix it for you.”

She drew in a slow, deep breath, drawing his gaze to the soft swell of her breasts. “Fix it how?” she asked, and Zaron forced himself to refocus on her face.

Now wasn’t the time to give in to this attraction.

“Did you heal me before?” she persisted when Zaron didn’t respond right away. “How is it that I’m perfectly okay after falling that far?” Her eyes widened as though some thought had occurred to her. “Wait a minute, what day is it? Was I in a coma or something?”

“No, you weren’t in a coma,” Zaron said, understanding her concern. “Today is Thursday, June 6th.”

“So I was out for two days.”

Zaron nodded. “Yes, precisely.” He was getting hungry, and he was certain the girl had to be, too. Explanations could wait. Switching to Krinar, he swiftly ordered a salad for them.

Emily frowned at him. “What did you just say?”

“I requested some food for us,” Zaron explained. “I’m afraid my house is not programmed to respond to commands in English.”

“Uh-huh.” She was looking at him like he was insane. “But your house is programmed to respond to commands in whatever language that was?”

“The language in question is Krinar,” Zaron said, finally reaching a decision. He could continue keeping the girl in the dark, but that wasn’t really necessary. Given how much she had seen already, he wouldn’t be able to let her go anyway—and she would learn the truth soon enough.

“Krinar?” She looked confused as she repeated the word with a faint American accent. “What part of the world is that?”

“Krinar is the language spoken on Krina,” Zaron said softly, watching Emily’s face. “My home planet.”

CHAPTER SIX

Emily stared at the gorgeous man in front of her, unable to believe her ears. “Wait… what? Did you just say your home planet?”

He nodded, his face calm. “Yes, Emily. I know it goes against what your society accepts as the truth right now. If you choose not to believe me, that’s fine. You wanted to understand why you’re alive and why my house seems strange to you, and I’m providing you with an explanation. If it’s not one you want to hear, you’re more than welcome to believe something else.”

Emily swallowed, her heart starting to beat faster. He didn’t look like he was joking. He was watching her with those dark eyes, and there was no trace of laughter on his face.

He was either insane, or she had fallen down that rabbit hole after all.

“Are you seriously telling me you’re an alien?”

“From your perspective, I suppose I am,” he said thoughtfully. “I prefer the term Krinar, however.”

“An alien? As in, an extraterrestrial being?” Emily could not believe those words were coming out of her mouth. This had to be an unusually vivid dream. It simply had to be. That was the only reasonable explanation for this whole chain of events. She must have dreamed everything—including the fall off the bridge—and was currently lying asleep in her hotel room.

“Yes,” he answered patiently. “I’m from Krina, not Earth, so that makes me an extraterrestrial as far as you’re concerned.”

Okay, it was official. Emily was dreaming. How else could she be sitting on a floating chair across a floating table from a man who was too beautiful to be real?

Or too beautiful to be human, a small voice whispered at the back of her mind, sending a chill down her spine.

“Okay,” she said slowly, “let’s suppose for a second it’s true. If you’re from a different planet, then how did you get here and how can you possibly look human?” Let the dream man answer that, she thought. There had to be limits to her mind’s ability to make up rational-sounding explanations during sleep. At any moment, Emily would wake up and wonder how she could’ve possibly dreamed something so strange.

To her dismay, her question seemed to amuse the man. “As you can probably guess, I arrived on a ship,” he said, his sensuous lips curving in a slight smile. “A spaceship, if you will. As to how I look human, that’s the wrong question, Emily. I don’t look human.” He paused, watching her intently. “It’s you who resembles a Krinar.”

Emily opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that, but at that moment, the wall to her right opened, and a bowl filled with something colorful floated out. Reaching the table, it landed in front of Emily. A second bowl immediately followed, landing on the table in front of Zaron.

Emily stared at the table, fighting the urge to rub her eyes. A dream, she told herself. It’s just a dream.

The bowls were filled with what appeared to be a salad—an unusual mixture of fruits and vegetables covered with a light green dressing. In the middle of each bowl, there was a strange utensil that resembled miniature tongs.

Cautiously picking up the utensil, Emily poked a piece of tomato with it. “That doesn’t look very alien,” she said, giving Zaron a dubious look.

“It’s not. These are all Earth plants at this point—like this Citrus sinensis.” Lifting a piece of orange with his own utensil, he put the fruit into his mouth and began to eat with obvious enjoyment.

Emily stared at him. “Right, okay. So you can eat our food?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Sure. Some of it is quite good, actually,” he said, then resumed eating with gusto.

Still holding the utensil, Emily watched him for a few seconds. She felt like the rabbit hole was expanding all around her, sucking her in even deeper. Why wasn’t she waking up? In general, was it normal for someone in a dream to know that they were in a dream and yet be unable to wake up?

Not knowing what else to do, she began eating the salad. The crisp flavors exploded on her tongue, the combination of zesty vegetables and sweet fruits unusual but delicious. The dressing was both tangy and rich. Emily couldn’t remember ever eating anything quite like that before. She liked salads, and this was one of the best she’d ever had.

This dream was far, far too realistic.

Swallowing the bite she’d been chewing, Emily put down her utensil. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” she asked quietly, looking at Zaron.

“Did you think you were?” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that why you’ve been so calm? I was wondering about that. Everything I know about your kind suggests that your reaction should’ve been far more extreme.”

Emily felt like having that “far more extreme” reaction right now.

Slowly rising to her feet, she stepped away from the table, staring at Zaron. She could hear the rapid thudding of her own heartbeat, and her breathing was fast and shallow. It felt like there was not enough air in the room.

If this was truly happening—if her mind was not playing a cruel trick on her—there was no way to explain what she’d seen without venturing into the realm of the improbable.

“Can you prove it?” Her voice was low and shaky. “Can you prove to me that you’re from another planet?”

He leaned back in his chair, a half-smile playing on his lips. “How would you like me to prove it to you, Emily? Isn’t it enough that you’re alive and well when you should’ve died from your injuries? Do you know of any human medicine that can heal severe wounds like that?”

Emily moistened her lips. “How badly was I hurt?” The words came out in a barely audible whisper. She pictured the bridge and the big rocks below, and her stomach twisted. For the first time, the fact that she was alive truly dawned on her.

She was alive… when by all rights she should’ve been dead.

“You had multiple bone fractures, as well as severe damage to your internal organs,” Zaron said, pushing a thick lock of hair off his forehead. “Your spine was broken as well.”

Feeling like a steel band was squeezing her ribcage, Emily fought to draw in air. She remembered it now—that brief, awful moment when her body slammed into the rocks. She remembered wishing for instant death and experiencing agony instead.

Her eyes burning, she lifted her arms, studying them as if she’d never seen them before. Her skin was smooth and pale, completely unblemished. There was no trace of injury of any kind, not even a bruise or a scrape.

She was alive.

She. Was. Alive.

As that realization sank in, Emily began to shake. She could’ve died. She should’ve died. She had been certain that she would die.

And if it hadn’t been for the man sitting at the table, she would have.

Lifting her eyes, she saw him gazing at her with that same coolly amused expression. “You saved me…” Her voice was thin with shock. “You saved my life.”

He nodded, rising smoothly to his feet. “Yes,” he said, approaching her with predatory grace. “I did.” Stopping less than a foot away from her, he raised his hand and lightly brushed the back of his fingers against the side of her jaw.

Emily drew in a startled breath, stunned by the unexpectedly proprietary caress. His nearness was overwhelming, adding to her inner turmoil. Her skin tingled from his touch, and she felt hot chills going down her spine, her entire body trembling from shock.

The man who had just touched her—the man who had saved her life—was claiming to be from another planet.

Her heart pounding heavily, Emily took a step back. “Why did you save me?” she whispered, staring up at him. “What do you want from me?”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Emily.” His voice was gentle, soothing, but she again got that disquieting impression of a big cat toying with its prey. “I won’t harm you.”

She swallowed thickly, taking another step back. She wasn’t sure if she believed him—if she believed any of it. How could there be humanoid aliens? The idea was right up there with Bigfoot and mermaids. A secret government lab facility was a far more plausible scenario, except it couldn’t explain how Emily could’ve healed so quickly from her fall. That kind of medical technology would not have remained secret for long.

She had no choice but to allow for the possibility that he was telling the truth, and if that was the case, then she was in the presence of an actual, real-life extraterrestrial.

An extraterrestrial who had saved her life.

A being from another planet who was watching her like a hungry lion watches a gazelle.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zaron watched as Emily slowly backed away from him, her eyes huge in her pale face. He could see the fine trembling in her limbs, and the urge to pull her to him, to hold her, was so strong he could barely control it. The brief caress earlier had only whetted his appetite.

He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, to feel the satiny texture of her skin. He wanted to tear off her clothes and spread her thighs wide, holding her open as he thrust into her. He wanted to cradle her against him and fuck her like a savage… and then slice his teeth across the tender skin of her throat and taste the hot, coppery richness of her blood.

His mouth watered at the thought.

“Why did you say I look like a Krinar?” Her hesitant question interrupted his musings, penetrating the haze of lust that seemed to envelop his brain in her presence. She had stopped on the other side of the room and was watching him warily. She felt safer with some space between them, he realized; she didn’t know how easy it would be for him to clear that distance with a single leap. “As opposed to you looking human, I mean?” she clarified.

Taking a steadying breath, Zaron forced himself to remain still and give her the space she needed. It was natural for her to be frightened and overwhelmed; after all, humans didn’t know about the Krinar yet.

“Because we are the original intelligent species,” he said, answering her question. “Your kind was created in our image, not the other way around.”

The girl’s tongue flicked over her lips in a nervous gesture that sent a bolt of heat straight to Zaron’s groin. “In your image? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that we created your species… all the species on this planet, really.” Zaron paused, letting that sink in. “If it hadn’t been for us, there wouldn’t be life on Earth.”

Her eyes widened, an expression of disbelief stealing across her face. “What? Are you saying you made us? Like in a lab or something?”

“No, not in a lab,” Zaron said. He was about to launch into a lengthy scientific explanation but caught himself in time. “What we did was plant some DNA here a couple of billion years ago,” he said instead. “Then we nudged your evolution along, helping a Krinar-like species emerge over time.” This was a gross oversimplification, but he didn’t think Emily needed all the evolutionary subtleties at this point.

As it was, Emily’s mouth opened and closed without making a sound. Zaron could practically see the workings of her agile brain inside that pretty little skull. She didn’t know if she could trust him or not, and her initial inclination was to reject anything that didn’t fit into her existing worldview. But she couldn’t deny what she’d seen today.

“A couple of billion years ago?” she asked, staring at him. “You’re telling me that your civilization is that old?”

Zaron nodded. “Yes, we’ve been around for a very long time. Our planet is much older than yours.”

Emily drew in a shuddering breath. “I see.” Raising her hands, she rubbed her temples again, as though suffering from a headache.

Zaron’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the idea of her being in pain—not if he could help it. It was a strange thing, but on some level he felt as though she belonged to him and her well-being was his responsibility. Crossing the room in a few strides, he stopped in front of her. “Emily… Do you need me to get you some medicine?”

Lowering her hands to her sides, she looked up at him, her thickly lashed eyes more green than blue in this light. “No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Of course.” Zaron again felt the urge to pull her into his arms—this time to soothe her. Unfortunately, she was not yet ready for that kind of intimacy, and any move he made in that direction was more likely to scare her than reduce her anxiety. He settled for giving her a reassuring smile. “I understand.”

“I’m still in Costa Rica, right?” she asked, her delicate eyebrows coming together as if the idea had just occurred to her. “I’m not somewhere on your ship, am I?”

“No, you’re not—and yes, we are in Costa Rica. We’re only about a dozen miles away from that bridge. Like I told you, this is my home for now.”

Her forehead smoothed out, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “Oh, I see.” She appeared relieved, and Zaron suppressed a smile of his own, knowing her question was likely inspired by her culture’s stereotype of alien abductions.

Watching the girl, Zaron realized that he hadn’t felt this lighthearted in years. He’d never spent much time with a human before, and he hadn’t expected to find it so enjoyable. From her driver’s license, he knew that Emily was twenty-four—little more than an adolescent compared to his own six-hundred-plus years. However, she seemed more mature than a Krinar of the same age, likely because her species generally reached full adulthood by that time.

It suddenly struck him that for the past hour, he hadn’t thought about Larita once. A sharp stab of agony accompanied that realization, and he immediately pushed the thought away. He liked the way he felt around this human girl, and he intended to hold on to that feeling.

Emily cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. “Zaron,” she said quietly, holding his gaze, “I haven’t thanked you yet for healing me. I remember that fall, and I know I should’ve died”—she swallowed, her voice growing thick—“and I can’t even begin to thank you for doing whatever it was that you did—”

“It’s okay, Emily,” Zaron interrupted, sensing that she was on the verge of tears. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

She swallowed again, then gave him a wry, tremulous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional on you. I guess even aliens get squeamish when a girl is about to cry, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Zaron said dryly. He hated seeing a woman’s tears; they made him feel helpless. Whenever Larita cried, he’d bend over backwards to fix whatever was bothering her. Emily didn’t seem prone to crying, and he liked that. The human girl’s angelic prettiness hid a core of strength that he couldn’t help but admire.

Emily’s smile widened, lighting up her entire face. “Well, in that case, I won’t cry. I’ll simply say thank you, and that’s that.”

Zaron laughed. “Good, that’s the way—”

A soft vibration on his wrist startled him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Glancing down at the computing device he wore on his arm, Zaron saw an urgent message waiting for him. “Excuse me,” he said, giving Emily an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back.”

Before she could respond, he swiftly walked toward his study.

A meeting request from the Council always needed to be addressed promptly.

Her heart racing, Emily watched Zaron disappear into the other room. For a second there, she’d felt the beginnings of a genuine connection—a connection that was both exciting and disconcerting.

He made her nervous, yet she felt drawn to him. When they were talking, she’d found herself wondering what it would be like to trace the straight lines of his eyebrows with her fingertips and feel the texture of his thick, glossy hair. With him standing so near, she had been hyperaware of his large, muscular body—of the purely masculine perfection of him.

It was ridiculous. He was gorgeous, yes, but by his own admission, he wasn’t human. He was Krinar, an alien from a multi-billion-year-old civilization.

A civilization that had supposedly created life on Earth.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Emily reflexively rubbed her temples again. When she’d told Zaron that it was a lot to take in, she hadn’t been kidding. Her brain felt like it was about to explode, her thoughts whirling around in circles. She didn’t have a full-blown headache, but there was a definite band of tension around her forehead.

Sighing, Emily opened her eyes and walked back to the table, sitting down on one of the hovering chairs. When the object moved around her, shaping itself to her body, she purposefully relaxed into the motion, letting it do its thing. She was growing used to some of Zaron’s technology—at least the most basic, domestic kind.

Just how advanced were they? she wondered, some of the tension draining out of her as the chair began a soothing vibration to relax her muscles. Clearly, Zaron had been able to come to Earth, so they must’ve mastered interstellar travel. Faster-than-light travel, perhaps? According to current scientific theories, such a thing was impossible, but so was healing wounds of the kind Emily must’ve sustained during her fall. Krinar medicine was so far ahead of anything Emily had heard of that she couldn’t even imagine what else they could do. Teleportation, perhaps? There were so many possibilities for cool technology her head was spinning.

Emily had always had an interest in science, often reading articles about the latest discoveries and watching nature shows on television. Sometimes she even wished she’d chosen biology or astrophysics as a field of study. But she hadn’t. She’d gone into finance instead, lured by the promise of big money on Wall Street. After growing up in foster homes, Emily craved financial security and stability, and banking had seemed like the perfect way to achieve that quickly. To succeed in most scientific fields, one needed a graduate degree—a Ph.D. or at least a Master’s. But to become an investment banking analyst, four years at a prestigious college, a couple of summer internships, and a willingness to work eighty-plus hours a week were more than sufficient. At the age of twenty-four, Emily had been well on her way to achieving her goal of financial security, with her savings account healthy and growing—at least until the stock market took its most recent dive.

Now her savings had been cut in half, and she had lost the job that had consumed her life for the past two years. Emily waited for the familiar bitterness to wash over her, but all she felt was a mild twinge of disappointment. For the first time since the layoffs, she wasn’t worried about her future. She had far more important things on her mind—like the fact that an alien had saved her life.

The sheer insanity of that thought almost made her laugh out loud. For a moment, she again had that dizzying Alice-in-Wonderland sensation, but then she took a few calming breaths and got a grip on herself. She needed to be able to think without freaking out because if Zaron’s claims were true, the implications were simply staggering.

There was another intelligent species out there—a species far more advanced than humans. A species that had supposedly indirectly created humans. What did they want? Why was Zaron here, living in a Costa Rican jungle? Why had he bothered saving Emily’s life?

Also, why did no one know about the Krinar? If Zaron’s people were the real creators of mankind, shouldn’t humans have learned about them a long time ago?

A cold sensation spread through Emily’s body as she drew in a shaky breath, then another and another. Her chest was beginning to feel tight again.

There was only one answer to that question.

No one knew about the Krinar because they didn’t want to reveal their existence to humans.

Yet Zaron had risked exposure by letting Emily see his home, by telling her what he was and where he’d come from. He didn’t seem concerned that she could go to the media with that knowledge, or that he’d potentially compromised what had to be thousands of years of secrecy on the part of his species.

Slowly rising to her feet, Emily stared at the ivory wall, her hands mindlessly gripping the table.

Was Zaron telling her all this because he wasn’t going to let her go?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Entering his study, Zaron activated the meeting mode on his computer and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he was standing inside a large white chamber—the Council gathering place on Krina. He wasn’t there physically, of course, but the simulation was real enough that he could see, feel, touch, and smell everything, almost as if he was there in person.

There were only three Councilors waiting for him there: Korum, Arus, and Saret. Not a formal meeting then, Zaron realized; that would’ve required all fifteen Council members to be present. Inclining his head in a gesture of respect, he waited to see why he had been summoned.

The three men standing in front of him were among the most influential on Krina, each of them having been on the Council longer than Zaron had been alive. The Council—the formal ruling body of Krina—was answerable only to the Elders, the nine oldest Krinar in existence. And since the Elders rarely interfered with anything, that meant the Council enjoyed almost unlimited power when it came to passing laws and upholding order in their society.

Up until two years ago, Zaron had only occasionally met some of the Councilors in social situations. But since the Council had become interested in his research, he’d gotten to know most of its members.

“It’s good to see you, Zaron,” Arus said, taking a step forward. “Thank you for responding so quickly. We’re about to depart and wanted to catch up with you for a minute to see if you’ve made more progress on selecting the sites.” His expression was pleasant and mildly interested, designed to make one feel at ease. With a background in societal studies, Arus was the consummate politician, well-liked and respected by nearly everyone—Zaron included. It was Arus who had approached him two years ago about heading up the settlement efforts, dragging Zaron out of the bleak depression that had consumed him since Larita’s death.

“I did,” Zaron answered. “I believe the most promising location is that of the Guanacaste region of Costa Rica.” A flick of his wrist brought up a detailed three-dimensional map of Earth, and he zoomed in on the place he was referring to. “The climate is very comparable to some areas of Krina, and I should be able to alter the soil enough to make it hospitable to many of our edible plants.”

“What about the other nine Centers?” It was Korum who spoke this time, his unusual amber-colored eyes watching Zaron with cool, piercing intelligence. Of the three Council members present, he was by far the most intimidating, with a reputation for ruthlessness that went far beyond the usual ambition. He was also the driving force behind the upcoming invasion.

“I have seven of the sites selected,” Zaron told him. “The remaining two will be finalized in the next few weeks. They should be in the United States, so we have a presence there. I’ve narrowed it down to Florida, Arizona, and New Mexico, but each of those places needs to be explored in greater detail before we make our final choice.”

“Very good.” Arus gave him an approving smile. “That is quite a bit of progress. I suspect that in the first few months, we’ll spend most of our time on the ships anyway, until the human population has had a chance to get accustomed to our presence.”

“Are you expecting a lot of unrest?” Zaron inquired, trying to picture how everything would unfold. Given Emily’s reaction to his revelations, he suspected many humans would have a difficult time dealing with something so far outside their accepted structure of beliefs.

“Hopefully, not too much,” Saret responded, speaking for the first time. Considered the top mind expert on Krina, he was quiet and generally laid-back, tending to fade into the background next to the more forceful personalities on the Council. “I expect some will be quite upset when we arrive, but hopefully, once we explain everything—”

“They’ll adjust.” Korum sounded impatient. “They’ll have no choice in the matter. Besides, from what I’ve observed, their species is quite adaptable.”

Arus frowned at Korum, then turned back toward Zaron. “Thank you for the update. This is exactly what we were hoping to hear. Is there anything else we should be aware of at this time?”

“No,” Zaron said, though for some strange reason, he thought of Emily. The Council would not be interested in something as trivial as a human girl staying in his house, so there was no point in informing them about that.

“In that case, we’ll see you on Earth,” Arus said, and the room blurred around Zaron, causing him to close his eyes.

When he opened them, the virtual environment of the meeting was gone, and he was standing in his own study.

By the time Zaron came back, Emily was a nervous wreck. She’d gone back to the room that she assumed functioned as the living room—the one with the long, floating plank that turned into the most comfortable couch imaginable when she sat down on it. She’d sat there for a few minutes, thinking about her situation, and then she got up to search for an exit, too wound up to remain still. Running her hands over the walls, she tried to find something, anything, that would indicate the presence of a door, but the walls were frustratingly smooth and warm under her fingers.

Abandoning that futile task, Emily began to pace.

As far as she could tell, if Zaron wanted to keep the existence of his people a secret, then he had only three options when it came to Emily. He could let her go and trust her to keep quiet; he could tamper with her memories (assuming they had that kind of technology); or he could do something that would prevent her from telling anyone—such as take her away to his planet when he left. Theoretically, he could also kill her, but that wouldn’t make much sense, since he had gone to all this trouble to save her life.

She very much hoped he was leaning toward the “trust her” option.

“Sorry about that.” Zaron’s deep voice broke into Emily’s thoughts, causing her to whirl around in surprise. Despite his size, her savior was incredibly light on his feet. He was already a few feet away, and she hadn’t even heard him enter.

“Oh, that’s no problem.” Emily gave him an overly bright smile to hide her nervousness. “I’m sure you have many important things to do, and I’m probably distracting you from them. If you don’t mind, I’ll just be on my way…” Her voice trailed off as Zaron’s expression darkened.

“You’re not distracting me.” He came toward her, walking without making a sound. For the first time, it struck her that there was something not quite human in the way he moved, something that made her think of a carnivore stalking its prey. “You still need to recover, Emily, and it’s my pleasure to have you as a guest.”

“Oh no, I feel perfectly fine,” she protested, her pulse jumping at the realization that he was not leaning toward the “trust” option. “Whatever medicine you used on me was amazing, and I’m as healthy as I’ve ever been—”

“Emily…” Zaron paused a couple of feet away from her, his dark eyes locked on her face. “Please, don’t get stressed. Your body has been through a severe trauma, and you need time to heal fully.”

“How much time?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks?” Emily stared at him, her unease abating only slightly. “I can’t stay in Costa Rica that long. I have to go back home; my plane tickets are for Saturday.”

Zaron regarded her silently. “I’ll get you new tickets,” he said after a moment. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Really?” Emily blinked. “You can buy me plane tickets?” What was he going to do, purchase them online with a credit card? Did aliens have credit cards? She pictured him applying for a Mastercard from his spaceship and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into semi-hysterical laughter.

“Of course.” He looked puzzled by her question. “Human wealth is not something we lack. I can buy you anything you want, Emily.”

The urge to laugh disappeared without a trace. “That’s very generous of you,” she said, trying to remain calm, “but I would feel terrible asking you to spend your money on me like that.” She attempted a smile again. “Why don’t I just call the airline and have them change my flight date? If you think I’m not in good enough shape to travel, I could probably stay here a couple of extra days. I would just need to make the appropriate arrangements—”

“Emily…” He let out a very human-like sigh. “As you’ve probably guessed, I can’t let you do that.”

Her heart climbed into her throat. “I wouldn’t tell anyone about you—I swear, I wouldn’t.” Emily knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help herself. “You saved my life, and I wouldn’t betray you. Besides, who would believe me? Nobody believes in aliens—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, cutting short her rambling appeal. “They wouldn’t have to take your word for it. All they’d need to do is compare your old dental records to your current ones.”

“My dental records?”

“Your body has undergone the full healing procedure,” Zaron said. “It means that all of your injuries were healed, including the ones inflicted by your primitive dentistry. Your teeth now bear no traces of cavities or fillings, and regrowing live tissue of that kind is not something your science is capable of yet.”

Her panic increasing, Emily ran her tongue over her teeth in an effort to verify what he was telling her. Her mouth did feel subtly different, but she didn’t know if she was just imagining things.

“Do you have a mirror?” she asked, trying to slow her frantic breathing. What else had his procedure done to her? Was she now different in some way?

He smiled in response and said something in his own language. The words sounded slightly guttural to her ears.

“Here,” he said, pointing toward the wall to her right. “Take a look.”

The wall had become a giant mirror—a transformation that barely fazed Emily at this point. Walking over to the mirror, she opened her mouth wide, trying to see her back teeth, where her childhood love of sweets had resulted in a few cavities.

There was no trace of those cavities or fillings. Her teeth were as white and perfect as if she’d had new ones put in.

Zaron hadn’t lied. His procedure had left an indelible trace—evidence that something had been done to Emily that modern science could not explain.

Closing her mouth, Emily turned back toward Zaron, who was watching her actions with some amusement. “Is there anything else?” she asked evenly. “Am I changed in other ways?”

His lips curved in a slight smile. “No, Emily. Unless you count missing a few scars as being changed.”

Pulling up the skirt of her dress a couple of inches, she peeked at her left thigh. One of her foster brothers had pushed her into a garbage bin when she was twelve, causing her to cut open her leg on broken glass. The resulting scar had made her teenage self so self-conscious she’d foregone wearing shorts for five years. It was only as an adult that Emily had begun to accept it as a part of her body… and now that scar was gone.

Completely gone. Erased by alien technology.

Stunned, Emily raised her eyes to meet Zaron’s gaze across the room. “It’s not there anymore. This and my fillings—they’re gone.”

He nodded. “They are.”

“So what are you planning to do with me now?” She did her best to rein in her panic. “Are you going to take me to your planet?”

“No, of course not.” He looked amused again. “I told you, you will only need to stay here for a couple of weeks. Seventeen days, to be exact.”

“Why? What’s going to change in seventeen days?” Emily would still have her perfect teeth and scarless body. If he didn’t trust her now, why did he think he could trust her then?

“In seventeen days, it won’t matter if you go public with your story,” he said, crossing the room to stand next to her. “It won’t even matter if your newspapers believe you.” He paused for a second, looking down at her, then said gently, “You see, Emily, by then my people will have arrived.”

CHAPTER NINE

Zaron watched as Emily’s pupils dilated and her face turned even paler. “What?” she whispered. “What do you mean, your people will have arrived?”

“We’re getting ready to formally meet your species.” Zaron leaned against the mirrored wall. “In seventeen days, we’ll make contact with your leaders—and at that point, you can return to your regular life if you wish.”

“You’re going to reveal yourselves to us?”

“Yes,” Zaron confirmed. “So you see, you have nothing to worry about. You can just stay here as my guest and recuperate for a little while.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Right, as your guest. Until your people arrive. Until everyone learns that aliens exist. Got it.” She sounded like she was in shock, and Zaron wanted to pull her to him and rock her back and forth, soothing her anxiety—and then carry her off to bed and thoroughly fuck her. The curious mixture of protectiveness and lust she awakened in him was different from anything he’d experienced before. Even with Larita—

No. He stopped that line of thought before it went any further. It was ridiculous to compare his feelings for his mate to the primitive physical attraction he was experiencing for this human. The two had nothing in common. He might as well try to replace Larita with a house pet, like some humans tried to do with their loved ones.

To be fair, though, Emily would make a very fuckable house pet, he thought dryly, his gaze dropping to the delicious fullness of her breasts underneath the light fabric of her dress.

“Why now?” Her voice jerked him out of a daydream in which he was pulling down the top of her dress and cupping those soft white mounds in his hands. Dragging his eyes back to her face, he saw that some of her shock had faded. “Why are you choosing to reveal yourselves to us now?”

“Because it’s time,” Zaron answered. “Because we think you’re ready.” And because the Council was concerned about the devastating impact humans were having on their planet, but that was not something he intended to tell Emily at this point.

She stared at him. “I see. So you’re just going to show up in your spaceships and say, ‘Hello, here we are?’”

His lips twitched in a brief smile. “Yes, pretty much.” There was going to be more to it than that, but she didn’t need to know that yet, either.

“Okay, well, if that’s the case, then I understand your dilemma about the timing,” she said slowly, “and I am extremely grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But I have a problem too. I can’t be your guest for that long because I have obligations back home.” She took a breath. “I have a job interview next week. A very important interview that I absolutely can’t miss. I also have a cat that my friend is watching for me, and she’ll be very worried if I don’t come back on Saturday.”

“Your cat?” Zaron frowned in confusion. He had studied the Felis catus species recently, and they rarely exhibited that kind of deep attachment to humans.

“No, of course not.” Emily gave him an exasperated look. “My friend.”

Zaron couldn’t help grinning at that. “Ah, that makes more sense.”

An answering smile flashed across Emily’s face. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Sobering up, she said, “But seriously, you have nothing to worry about with me. I’m not going to say a word to anyone about what happened—and I’ll avoid doctors and dentists like the plague for the next seventeen days, just in case they decide to examine me for signs of alien procedures.”

Zaron sighed. He could already see that convincing Emily to enjoy her extended vacation wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped. She was right: it likely wouldn’t do any harm to let her return to her life at this point. However, until the Krinar officially made contact, he was bound by the non-disclosure mandate set by the Elders, and the mandate stated that he was not allowed to do anything that could expose his species to humans before the ships’ arrival.

There was also another factor—one Zaron was reluctant to admit even to himself. He didn’t want to let Emily go before tasting her… before satisfying the hunger that burned within him.

No. It wasn’t that, he told himself. He was merely adhering to the mandate, like any law-abiding Krinar should.

“I’m sorry, Emily,” he said. “I understand you might not intend to reveal anything, but I have to follow the rules. I’m afraid I must insist that you stay here for a little while.”

Her soft mouth tightened. “Right. For two and a half weeks… without letting anyone know where I am or what happened to me.”

Zaron exhaled, starting to feel frustrated. “You can email your friend if you wish.” It should be easy enough to control what the email said, particularly if he accessed her email account and sent the message himself.

“That would be good, but I still have that interview—and that’s an interview I can’t miss or reschedule,” Emily said. “It’s with the biggest hedge fund in New York, and it’s my dream job. I’ve been preparing for it for two months, ever since I got laid off. At Evers Capital, they don’t accept excuses, and they won’t give me another shot if I screw up. Bill Evers—the head of the fund—is known for putting work first and everything else second. He was once in a car crash that put him in a coma, and the first day he came out of it, he had his wheelchair taken to the office.” There was a note of admiration in her voice, which annoyed Zaron for some reason.

His temper began to simmer. “Listen to me, Emily, you need to understand one thing here,” he said, straightening away from the wall. “You are only alive because I found you and brought you here. If it were not for me, you would be heading home in a body bag right now—”

She blanched, all color draining from her face.

“—so you might want to think about that the next time you worry about missing an interview.” He paused, still feeling inexplicably angry with her. When he spoke again, his words came out harsher than he intended. “You are my guest, and you will remain as such until the mandate is no longer in effect.”

“I see.” Her tone was calm, but there was a suspicious glimmer in her eyes as she stared at him. “So for the next seventeen days, I am your captive.”

Zaron’s eyes narrowed. “Call it whatever you wish.”

Before he could say or do anything he would later regret, he turned away from her and swiftly walked toward his study.

When he was gone, Emily leaned against the mirrored wall, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. She didn’t know what had caused Zaron’s anger, but she knew it wasn’t smart to provoke him in her situation. She should’ve just accepted his “hospitality,” such as it was, instead of arguing about it.

It wasn’t as bad as it could be, she told herself, ignoring the churning in her stomach. He was only detaining her for a couple of weeks, not taking her off the planet as she’d initially feared. In a way, he was right: it was silly to worry about a lost job opportunity when she had almost died two days ago. When Emily had been dangling off that bridge, her career had been the last thing on her mind. She was grateful that Zaron had chosen to save her… even if everything inside her raged at the idea of being held prisoner, of being deprived of freedom for as long as he deemed necessary.

If there was one thing Emily hated, it was being confined. Before entering the foster care system, she had lived with her father’s sister—a socially awkward woman who’d had no idea how to deal with a four-year-old who’d just lost her parents. Whenever Emily misbehaved, her aunt would lock her in her room as punishment, sometimes for several days at a time. Wendy Ross was never abusive, strictly speaking—she would bring Emily meals and give her toys to play with—but Emily still hated being locked up. Even now, the mere thought of being held somewhere against her will was enough to make her feel like a caged animal: trapped and furious.

No, don’t dwell on that. The last thing she needed was for her weird indoor phobia to kick in. Drawing in a calming breath, Emily walked over to the couch-plank and sat down, letting the alien furniture cradle her body and take away her tension. If she didn’t focus on the fact that she was being held captive, then her situation could actually be viewed as an amazing opportunity—a chance to get to know an intelligent being from another species.

A species that all humans would meet soon.

The magnitude of what Zaron had just told her was almost beyond belief. Emily’s brain was buzzing with a million questions. Why did Zaron’s people decide that humans were ready for first contact? What would happen when they showed up? She couldn’t imagine that everyone would welcome them with open arms, even if the Krinar had peaceful intentions. What were their intentions, anyway? A simple meet-and-greet or was there something more? And how would the planet react to their arrival? To the revelation that humans were not alone, that they had been created by an ancient extraterrestrial race?

A very gorgeous, very humanoid race.

To her shock, Emily realized that she was seriously attracted to Zaron. She had been so overwhelmed by everything he’d told her that it had somehow slipped by her, the sheer physical impact he had on her senses. Even now, just thinking about him, she could feel her skin heating up and warm moisture gathering between her thighs. The pull she felt toward him was unlike anything she had experienced before, and it was as strong as it was disturbing.

Zaron looked like a human man—okay, way better than a human man—but he was not human. If his kind had truly evolved on a different planet, there had to be some pretty significant differences between their species, and at this point, Emily could only speculate as to what those differences might be. It made no sense for her to be sexually attracted to him, but her body didn’t care about that. As far as her hormones were concerned, Zaron was the most delicious thing they’d ever come in contact with.

Great. That’s all she needed now: a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome, and for an alien, no less. Emily mentally groaned, burying her face in her hands. If his civilization really was as advanced and ancient as he’d said, then there was a strong possibility that he saw her as little more than a smart monkey—as something to be studied and observed. He’d even said he was a biologist, she remembered with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

No, lusting after him was stupid. They were from different species, and even if they weren’t, this kind of situation did not exactly lend itself to a relationship. If Zaron hadn’t lied, in seventeen days she would leave and probably never see him again.

All she needed to do until then was hang on to her sanity.

CHAPTER TEN

His jaw tense with anger, Zaron entered his office and sat down. Pulling up a three-dimensional image of the local landscape, he superimposed a map of a prospective Center on it and started running the calculations. He had a lot of work to do prior to the Council’s arrival, but all he could think about was his ungrateful human guest.

He had saved her life. Saved. Her. Life. Without him, Emily would be a rotting corpse. And she was balking at having to stay in his house for an extra couple of weeks? He gritted his teeth, leaning forward in his chair. Was the idea of being with him so repugnant to her? Or was she just anxious to get back so she could work with that insane hedge fund leader she seemed to worship?

Zaron’s anger deepened at the thought. Issuing a curt order to his computing device, he accessed Bill Evers’s records, quickly scanning all available information about the human, from newspaper articles to his residential address. What he saw was not reassuring. The object of Emily’s admiration was only in his mid-thirties and had risen far in their society during his short lifespan. He was also decent-looking for a human, with regular bone structure, a lean body of average height, and sandy brown hair.

Was that why Emily was so determined to get a job at this fund? Zaron wondered savagely. Did she want this human as a potential mate? If so, she was shit out of luck. He had no intention of letting another male near her—at least not until he had a chance to sate himself with her delicious, curvy little body.

And therein lay the reason for his anger, he realized, staring blankly at the three-dimensional map in front of him. No matter how hard Zaron tried to be an enlightened, rational scientist, he was a Krinar male first and foremost, and he was feeling territorial toward Emily. He wanted her, and he didn’t want anyone else to have her—or for her to even think about another man. Her unabashed admiration for Evers had infuriated him because it had brought up the specter of another male in her life—someone she seemed to respect quite a bit.

It wasn’t logical, but there it was. Zaron was feeling possessive toward Emily… as possessive as he’d once felt about Larita.

No. Everything inside him instantly rejected that conclusion. This was different. The pretty human might’ve triggered his primitive Krinar instincts, but it was only because Zaron felt like he had a right to her.

Yes, that was it, he decided. He saved her, and now he felt like she belonged to him—like she was his already. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but he didn’t care.

If he was to preserve his sanity, he needed to have her. Soon.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of the familiar deep voice, Emily jumped and whirled around, trying not to look guilty. “Just examining the texture of these walls,” she said brightly.

“Uh-huh.” Zaron didn’t look like he believed her. And then she knew he didn’t believe her because he said gently, “Emily, they won’t open for you, no matter how much you search for the mechanism. This house is intelligent, and it’s programmed to respond to me, not you.”

Emily’s mouth tightened. “Right, of course.” She’d suspected as much. For the past hour, she’d diligently searched every nook and cranny of the living room and kitchen area for a way out, and as far as she could tell, there was none.

Unless Zaron did whatever it was that he did to make the walls open, she was stuck.

He crossed the room and stopped next to her. “Why do you insist on making this so difficult?” he murmured. His fingers brushed across her cheek, sending a warm shiver through her. “This doesn’t need to be a bad experience for you, angel. On the contrary, it can be quite pleasant…” His big hand cupped her cheek, his thumb softly rubbing her lower lip. “Very pleasant, in fact.”

Shocked, Emily stared at him, her heart beating like a drum. There was no mistaking his meaning—or the hunger in his gaze. Had he somehow read her mind earlier? Was he capable of mind reading? “Um…” Her brain seemed to have turned to mush, leaving her unable to string together a coherent sentence. “Um, what are you… what do you…?”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Emily,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I won’t hurt you.” And as she stood there in stunned disbelief, he lowered his head, capturing her mouth with his.

His lips were velvet soft, his breath warm and faintly sweet. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to deepen the kiss; it was as if he was just tasting her, learning the contour and texture of her lips. At the same time, he knew exactly what he was doing. There was no hesitation in his actions, no fumbling uncertainty. He kissed her as if he’d done it a million times, his fingers sliding into her hair and holding her with a gentle, yet inescapable grip.

At first, Emily was too astonished to respond, but as he continued kissing her with that unerring expertise, a warm, melting languor began to permeate her body, originating at her core. Her hands unconsciously rose to his chest, her palms pressing against the hard wall of muscle, and she swayed toward him, her knees growing weak.

Sensing her response, he deepened the kiss, his tongue parting her lips and delving into the warm recesses of her mouth. Still holding her head with one hand, he pressed his other palm to the small of her back, pulling her flush against his powerful body. She could feel the hard, thick ridge of his erection against her stomach, and she moaned, her sex clenching with a sudden intense ache.

A low growl rumbled deep within his chest, and the hand in her hair moved down to grasp the thin strap of her dress. Before Emily could register his intent, she heard a ripping sound, and then his palm was on her breast, his large, strong fingers cupping the soft weight with startling possessiveness, his thumb rasping across her peaked nipple and setting it afire.

Somewhere at the back of Emily’s mind, alarm bells started ringing, penetrating the fog of desire. “Wait, stop,” she gasped, turning her head to avoid his kiss. “Zaron… please, stop!”

His body tensed and his grip on her breast tightened, his fingers squeezing her flesh almost to the point of pain. For one terrifying second, Emily thought he wouldn’t listen to her, but then he let go of her and stepped back, giving her some much-needed space.

Trembling all over, Emily tried to cover her naked breasts with the torn material of her dress. How could she have done this? How could she have let a strange man—no, a strange extraterrestrial—almost have sex with her? Had she somehow lost all reason and common sense?

The dress wouldn’t stay up on its own, and she finally gave up. Holding the ragged material tightly against her chest, she lifted her eyes to meet Zaron’s gaze, feeling wildly off-balance.

He was watching her with unconcealed lust, his eyes pitch black and glittering. There was a large bulge in his shorts, and his muscular body was practically vibrating with tension. He looked like it took all of his self-control not to pounce on her.

Emily’s alien captor wanted her.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Emily took a step back, her panic intensifying.

Zaron’s nostrils flared as he observed her instinctive retreat. “I won’t force you,” he said evenly. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“Right, of course.” Emily forced herself to stop backing away. “Look, Zaron…” She inhaled. “I am not sure what you have in mind for us, but this is a bad idea—”

“Why?” His burning black gaze held her. “You want me. Or did I just imagine your response?”

Emily swallowed. “No, you didn’t imagine it,” she admitted, her face heating up. “But that doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you. I hardly know you and—and you’re not even human.”

His mouth quirked with sudden amusement. “Are you afraid I have tentacles or a third arm? I can assure you, I have all the same parts as a human male.”

“I know that,” Emily said quickly, though she’d known no such thing. He appeared human, but that didn’t necessarily mean his equipment functioned the same way. Regardless, she wasn’t about to admit her doubts to him now.

“So then what’s the problem?” he murmured, closing the distance between them again. “You will enjoy the experience, I promise you that.” His hand reached for hers, his large palm covering the tightly clenched fist that was holding up her dress. She could feel the warmth emanating from his body, smell his clean masculine scent, and her nipples hardened again, her breathing quickening as a melting sensation spread through her body. Unconsciously, her grip on the dress loosened… and suddenly, the soft material was falling, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Zaron’s eyes seemed to darken further, and before Emily could react, she felt his big hands cupping her buttocks, lifting her up with startling ease until her breasts were at his eye level. With a soft growl, he bent his head and captured one rosy nipple with his mouth, sucking on it with a strong pull. Emily gasped, her hands clutching at the heavy muscles of his shoulders as her toes curled from the sharp, unexpected pleasure. The wet heat of his mouth and the pressure of his tongue intensified the throbbing ache between her thighs, and she moaned, mindlessly rubbing against him to relieve the tension building within her.

“Yes, angel, that’s it,” he whispered, his hot breath washing over her as he lowered her slowly, letting her feel the hard contours of his body as his mouth moved up to taste the sensitive area where her neck and shoulder joined. She shuddered helplessly, overtaken by the sensations, and felt his fingers slipping between her legs as he held her suspended off the ground with one hand. His thumb circled around her clit, slowly, maddeningly, each circle tightening the coil of tension deep within her core. One long finger pushed inside her wet channel, and she heard him groan as her body clenched around his finger, her inner walls grasping eagerly at the intruder. She could feel her skin growing hot, and then his thumb was directly on her clit, massaging it with a circular, rhythmic motion. Emily cried out, her hips jerking from the intense lash of sensation, and felt her body splintering into a million pieces.

Before she could recover, the room tilted around her. Disoriented, she grabbed at Zaron’s shirt—and realized he was lowering her to the floor, his hand withdrawing from her sex. Her back met the cool, hard surface, and the shock of it jolted her out of her sensual daze.

What was she doing? An alarm sounded in Emily’s brain as Zaron flipped up the skirt of her dress, baring her lower half. His knees were wedged between her legs, holding them open. Something hard and smooth brushed against her inner thigh, and she knew with sudden clarity that this was it, that in another moment he would be inside her.

She wasn’t ready for this. As Zaron’s mouth descended on her again, Emily pushed at him with all her strength and twisted her head to the side. “Stop. Zaron, please, stop!”

He froze over her, his breathing heavy and ragged, and Emily stilled, desperately hoping he would keep his word about not forcing her. She could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at her entrance, and a shudder of trepidation mixed with arousal ran through her. Slowly turning her head back, she met his gaze, trying not to panic at the violent hunger reflected there.

“I don’t want to do this,” she whispered, her hands pushing futilely at his chest. She could feel the hard muscles under her fingers, and the knowledge that she would never be able to fight him off made her stomach roil. “Zaron, please… let me go.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

She wanted him to stop.

He was a second away from burying himself in her tight, slick warmth, and Emily wanted him to stop.

For a second, Zaron wasn’t sure if he would be able to comply. She was lying spread beneath him, her soft, sleek body flushed with arousal and her heated scent enflaming his senses. Her deliciously round breasts were bared to his gaze, the nipples sticking up like ripe berries, and her pulse throbbed in the side of her neck, reminding him of the liquid ecstasy running through her veins. He could feel her slim thighs quivering with tension on the sides of his hips. One thrust, and he would have her. One thrust, and he would be deep inside her, satisfying the need raging through him. His cock was painfully hard, aching for her, and his body warred with his mind as he fought grimly for control.

It was only the fear in her eyes that enabled him to win that battle. She might desire him physically, but if he proceeded right now, it would be little better than rape.

His jaw tightly clenched, Zaron forced himself to roll off her. Rising to his feet, he turned away, rearranging his clothes to hide his engorged cock. He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t—not if he wanted to keep his word.

He heard her get up. Her movements were unsteady, her breathing coming faster than usual. He didn’t know if it was from arousal or apprehension, but it didn’t matter. Schooling his features into an impassive mask, Zaron turned back toward her, willing his erection to subside.

Emily was watching him warily, holding up the dress so it covered her chest. Her blond hair was tangled, streaming down her back in a cloud of pale waves, and her lips were swollen and reddened from the pressure of his mouth. With her skin glowing pink from her orgasm, she looked mouthwateringly fuckable.

Downright edible, in fact.

It took all of his self-control to say calmly, “I’m sorry if I frightened you, Emily. That was not my intention.”

“What was your intention then?” Her voice was as steady as his, though her grip on the dress betrayed her nervousness. “What do you want from me, Zaron? Is this some kind of kinky thing for you, having sex with a woman you’re keeping imprisoned in your house? A woman who’s not even of your own species? Is this why you saved me?”

As she spoke, Zaron’s lust slowly transformed into anger. The fact that there was some truth to what she was saying only added to his fury. “Why, yes,” he said in a silky tone. “That’s exactly right, angel. I saved you so I could fuck you. Would you rather I left you to die on those rocks instead?”

She held his gaze defiantly, but a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran over her skin, making him regret his harsh words. “No,” she said, her lips barely moving. “I am obviously grateful to be alive. Is that the payment you expect from me? Sex?”

Suddenly disgusted with himself, Zaron shook his head. “No.” Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair. The little human had him tied up in knots. “That’s not what I meant.” Knowing that anything else he said would only make the situation worse, he walked over to the wall, causing the entryway to Emily’s room to appear.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” he suggested, gesturing toward the opening. “I have some work to do right now, and you can catch a little nap before dinner.” He knew that humans needed a lot of sleep, and it was possible that she was tired already.

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and walked past him into the room, taking care not to look at him. She was still holding the torn dress protectively in front of her chest, and her delicate scent teased his nostrils as she passed by.

“I’ll get you some new clothes,” Zaron said in a strained voice, and walked to his office before he could grab her again. Taking out his fabricator, he created a few more dresses for her, using the time to picture himself submerged in a vat filled with ice-cold water—an image he hoped would be able to help his self-control.

When he was certain he wouldn’t jump her, he went to her room.

Emily was sitting on the bed, her slender legs crossed. She had somehow managed to tie the torn straps of the dress together, and it was staying up on its own now.

“Here you go,” Zaron said, opening one of the walls to reveal a closet. “This will be yours for the duration. You can just walk up to it, and it’ll open for you.” He placed the dresses in the closet and turned around to face her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, watching him with her unusual sea-colored eyes. “Do you by any chance have books that I could read? Maybe some magazines?”

Zaron thought about it for a moment, then issued a terse command in Krinar, causing the house to send a thin tablet floating in his direction from the other room. Snatching it out of the air, he spoke a few instructions in Krinar to allow Emily to control it with English language and then handed it to Emily. “This should give you access to any book you want,” he explained. “Just tell it what you want to read, and you should be able to get it.”

“Really?” She glanced up as she took the tablet from him. “Is this like an e-reader?”

He smiled. “Something like that.” It was as good of a comparison as any, though the device he’d handed her was far more advanced. “You can also watch TV on it, if you’d like. Just tell it what you want to see, and it’ll display the video for you.”

“I just talk to it and it works?”

“Yes.” He knew that some human technology worked like that now too, so the concept wouldn’t be foreign to her. For Krinar, verbal commands and gestures were the old-fashioned way of doing things, but Zaron still preferred it for some reason. The alternative was to embed a computing device within his body, enabling him to use his mind to control technology. It was something he intended to do at some point, but hadn’t gotten around to yet.

“Okay, then how about showing me Avatar?” she said, looking down at the device. She spoke slowly and loudly, as though addressing a deaf person. “Please show me Avatar.”

“It understood you the first time,” Zaron said, watching with amusement as Emily’s eyes widened at the three-dimensional image that appeared in the room. “You should be able to watch it now if you wish.”

“Holy shit,” she gasped, jumping up as the image expanded, taking up most of the space near the wall. “This is amazing!”

“Enjoy,” Zaron said, smiling at her enthusiasm. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

He was pretty sure she didn’t notice as he left the room, all her attention focused on the spectacle unfolding in front of her. He would have to introduce her to a simulation soon, he thought, and grinned, picturing her reaction to that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

There was watching, and then there was watching with Krinar technology. Emily had seen Avatar twice in a movie theater, each time in IMAX 3D, but today she felt like she was experiencing it for the first time. The imagery was so real, so vivid, it was as though she was there on Pandora, watching the action unfolding all around her.

The next couple of hours flew by with Emily fully absorbed in the movie. It was a relief to let her mind focus on something other than her insane situation—though she quickly realized that a movie about humanoid aliens might not have been the wisest choice for that.

When the movie ended, she visited the strange restroom again, marveling at how her every need was anticipated, the technology working so intuitively it was almost as if the house was reading her mind. She managed to get water to come out of the sink-like protrusion and washed her face with it, then looked around for something to moisturize her skin. Immediately, she felt a warm, soft breeze on her face. When the breeze stopped, she discovered that her skin was no longer feeling dry and tight; in fact, it was so smooth it was as though she’d been to a spa. She wished she had a mirror, and as soon as she began to search for one, one of the bathroom walls shimmered in front of her eyes, transforming itself into a glistening, mirror-like surface. It was truly spooky.

Stepping closer to the mirror, Emily studied the image that was reflected there. It was both familiar and different. When she had glanced at herself before, Emily had been too overwhelmed to actually focus on her reflection, so now she took a closer look.

It seemed as if Zaron’s healing procedure had done more than fix her teeth and scars. It had also taken away the subtle signs of stress and sleep deprivation that had etched themselves into her skin over the past two years. Gone were the dark circles that had framed her eyes, the faint lines of tension around her mouth. She looked healthy and well rested for the first time in months.

She also looked like she’d been thoroughly kissed.

Swallowing, Emily turned away from the mirror and headed back to the room. She didn’t want to think about that, but she could no longer keep the images out of her mind. What had occurred earlier had been raw, sexual… and deeply disturbing.

Her extraterrestrial captor wanted her. There was no longer any doubt of that. If she hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve taken her right then and there, on the floor. Her breathing quickened at the memory of his powerful body over her, the hard pressure of his legs forcing her thighs apart, the wet heat of his mouth on her nipples…

Groaning, Emily plopped down on the bed and buried her head in the soft blanket.

She’d never engaged in casual sex—not even in college, where the hookup culture was prevalent. She’d always been too cautious, too careful. Too cognizant of the possible consequences. For her, that kind of intimacy required trust, and she wasn’t someone who trusted easily. With her ex-boyfriend Jason, they’d been friends for a year before they’d started dating, and even then, they’d been together for a full month before she’d finally gone to bed with him.

Yet she had almost fucked a stranger—an inhuman stranger—on the floor of his futuristic house after knowing him for less than a day. He hadn’t even worn protection, Emily remembered with a cold shudder. Could he have made her pregnant or given her some disease? Thinking about it, she decided that the latter possibility was unlikely, given the advanced state of their medical technology, but she was less sure about the former. Emily had stopped taking the pill after breaking up with Jason four months ago, so pregnancy was now a real concern for her.

What would happen the next time Zaron tried to seduce her? And he would try, she was certain of that. Would she be able to stop him? Would she want to stop him? She had never before been so attracted to a man, had never felt that desperate, all-consuming need. Sex had always been something Emily enjoyed, but what she’d experienced today was nothing like the tepid encounters she’d had with Jason. It was more of a conflagration that had nearly burned her alive.

And she had seen the same kind of uncontrollable hunger in his eyes. One way or another, he was going to have her.

Emily wasn’t sure if the knowledge excited or terrified her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

For dinner, Zaron ordered a wide variety of dishes designed to appeal to Emily’s palate. The only foods missing were animal products of any kind. He’d tried meat twice during his time on Earth, but he couldn’t get used to the unpleasant taste and texture. He had no idea how humans in the developed nations had become so carnivorous in the past few decades; it was certainly not something anyone on Krina had anticipated. To this day, it amazed him that Emily’s species thought it normal to eat meat every day—even three times a day, in some extreme cases.

When everything was ready, he went to get Emily.

He found her lying on her stomach, reading something on the tablet. She’d changed into a white dress, and her small feet were bare, her pink toes flexing rhythmically against the blanket as she hummed something to herself.

“Emily.” He said her name softly, not wanting to startle her, but she still jumped, quickly turning over and sitting up to look at him. “Dinner is ready.”

“Okay, great.” Bending down, she pulled on her sandals and got up. “I’m looking forward to it.” Her tone was upbeat, but Zaron noticed that she was trying not to look at him. She was determined to maintain a distance between them, he realized with dark amusement.

They sat down at the table, which was already loaded with dishes. “Wow, this meal is more like a feast,” she said in amazement, putting a few bites of everything onto her plate. “Do you normally eat like this?”

“No,” Zaron admitted, reaching for a Cucurbita pepo stuffed with roasted Pleurotus ostreatus—or, as Emily likely thought of it, zucchini with oyster mushrooms. “I ordered this for you. I wanted to make sure you enjoy the meal.”

She looked surprised, but then a quick, radiant smile flashed across her face. “Thank you. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, though. I’m about as far from a picky eater as it gets.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “I’ll eat anything. Just give me food and I’m there.”

“Why? Did you ever go hungry?” Zaron inquired curiously. According to her driver’s license, she lived in the United States, one of the more affluent human nations.

She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “A few times. One of the foster homes where I lived had a very strict food rationing policy. They had twelve kids living with them, and they were always running out of funds.”

“Foster homes?” Zaron tried to remember if he’d ever heard of that particular human institution. It seemed to imply that she had lived away from her family—something he hadn’t come across in the basic background check he’d run on her in the beginning.

She nodded but didn’t explain. Instead, she asked, “How is it that you speak English so well? I assume it’s not your native language.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Her attempt to change the topic was beyond transparent, but Zaron decided to allow it and made a mental note to research foster homes later. “I have a little implant that acts as a translating device.”

“An implant? Like in your brain?”

Zaron smiled. “Exactly.”

“That’s incredible.” She appeared excited now. “Do you speak other languages too?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

She gasped, her mouth falling open. “Every single language out there?”

“Yes,” Zaron confirmed, enjoying her reaction. “Every language that currently exists and a few that have died out.”

She blew out her breath. “Holy shit…” Shaking her head in amazement, she began to eat.

For the next few minutes, there was only companionable silence as they demolished the dishes sitting on the table. Zaron noticed that Emily took a second serving of a salad made of Beta vulgaris bulbs and dried Vitis vinifera berries. No, a salad made of beets and raisins, he mentally corrected himself. He often had trouble taking off his scientist hat, but it was better to use common names for edible plants.

“That was amazing,” Emily said, pushing her empty plate away. “It looks like your people like to eat well.”

“We do.” Zaron gave her a slow smile. “We tend to enjoy all aspects of life to the fullest, and gratifying the senses is a big part of that.”

A faint flush brightened her pale cheeks. “I see.”

Zaron’s smile faded as his body reacted to the sight. He could tell the girl was thinking about what had taken place earlier; he could hear her rapid heartbeat and see the pulse throbbing visibly in the side of her neck. The skin in that tender area looked soft, inviting to the touch, and the urge to slice his teeth across it and taste the richness of her blood was so strong that Zaron almost reached for her.

As though sensing his hunger, Emily shifted in her seat, moving back from the table. Her hand tightened on the utensil she was holding, and Zaron forced his tense muscles to relax. He didn’t know why it was so difficult to restrain himself in her presence, but he had no intention of losing control and leaping on her like some savage. It had not even been a full day since she’d woken up, and she was undoubtedly overwhelmed by everything. He needed to give her more time.

“Zaron,” she said quietly, her eyes glued to his face, “can you tell me more about yourself? What exactly are you doing here on Earth? What are your people like?”

Zaron considered how to best answer her questions. The official post-arrival disclosure protocol was still being worked out, but he knew that the Council didn’t intend to reveal much to the general human public, so he needed to be careful.

“I already told you we’re here to formally meet your species for the first time,” he said. “As far as what we’re like, that’s like asking you what humans are like. It’s not easy to list all of your own attributes.”

“But how are you different from me?” she persisted. “What exactly makes a Krinar not human?”

Zaron sighed. This was going to be tricky. “Well, for one thing, the Krinar live longer,” he said, focusing on the most innocuous tidbit first. “Much longer, in fact.”

“Oh? How much longer?”

“I’m six hundred and nine years old,” Zaron said, watching as her jaw dropped in shock. “So much, much longer.”

“Six hundred years old,” she whispered, her gaze moving up and down his body. “How is it that you look so young?”

“We don’t age,” Zaron explained, leaning back in his seat. “Not like humans do. After we reach full maturity, we don’t change much throughout our lives.”

Her eyes were wide with shock. “Are you immortal?”

“No, not immortal, but we don’t die of old age. Have you ever heard of negligible senescence?”

She frowned, appearing to think about it. “The term sounds familiar. I feel like I read it somewhere recently.”

“Maybe you have,” Zaron said. “There’s some research being done into that now among your scientists. Essentially, a negligibly senescent organism doesn’t exhibit reduced reproductive capability or functional decline with age. There are several Earth species like that, so it’s not a Krinar-specific phenomenon. There’s the planarian flatworm, for instance—”

“Oh, that’s right,” she breathed, her eyes roaming over him again. “I remember reading about this now. The article speculated that tortoises may be like that—that they don’t age as they get older.”

Zaron nodded. “Yes, precisely. The Krinar are like that, too.”

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “If that’s the case, you can’t be very similar to us genetically, right?”

“No, we’re not similar to you genetically at all,” Zaron said, smiling. The girl was quick to catch on. “As far as DNA is concerned, you have more in common with a dolphin than with me.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “If that’s true, why do you want to have sex with me? And how exactly does something like that work?”

Zaron laughed softly. “It works quite well, I assure you.” Leaning forward, he reached across the table to take her slender hand. “I can’t make you pregnant, angel, but I can give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced in your life.” He slowly ran his thumb across the center of her palm, pressing lightly on the spots where he could feel tension. Women—human or Krinar—were highly susceptible to the pleasure of simple touch; it was something he’d learned centuries ago. The physical bond always began with basic skin-to-skin contact, and a smart man ensured there would be plenty of that.

To his satisfaction, Emily’s skin pinkened with arousal, her hand twitching in his grasp. Zaron could hear her breathing quickening, and his own body reacted with sharp intensity, his cock hardening in an instant. Not wanting to test his self-restraint too much, he released her hand, letting her pull it out of his reach.

“Why do you call me ‘angel?’” she asked in an unsteady voice. “Do you have such a concept on your planet?”

“No.” Zaron inhaled deeply, drawing in her warm scent. “That’s a uniquely human invention. But your coloring does remind me of some angel drawings I’ve seen here on Earth.”

An unexpected smile danced across her lips. “Are you a fan of religious art? I must say, I wouldn’t have expected that from an alien.”

“I appreciate beauty in all forms,” Zaron replied, studying her delicate features. “And I have to say, humans have managed to create some incredibly beautiful things during their short existence.”

“What about the Krinar? Do your people have art, philosophy, music?”

“Yes to all three.” He smiled at her. “Some of us dedicate our entire lives to creative pursuits, while others merely dabble in them. But either way, such contributions are highly valued—an artist is just as important in our society as a designer or a scientist.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Valued how? Are they compensated financially? In general, how does your economy operate? What do you use as currency? Do you have something like a stock market?”

Zaron grinned at the barrage of questions. “We do, but it’s not nearly as important,” he said, addressing her last question. “Most businesses are privately funded, and if the project is big enough, the government gets involved. Wealth is not necessarily something we strive for; it comes with success in our chosen fields, as top experts are well compensated—both in the private sector and by the government.”

“So you don’t have capitalism?”

“Not in the same way you do.” He paused, trying to think how to best explain it to her. “Because we are so long-lived—and because our population is significantly smaller, numbering in the millions instead of billions—our society functions very differently from yours. In some ways, it’s simpler; in others, it’s more complex. All of modern-day Krina is one cohesive socio-economic unit, with all that it implies.”

She appeared fascinated. “So the entire planet is like one country?”

“More or less. We have one ruling body—the Council—and they make decisions to benefit us as a whole, as opposed to appeasing one specific region or faction.”

“Well, that’s certainly different,” she mused. “Our politicians are nothing like that. How are the members of the Council chosen? Are they elected?”

“No.” Zaron shook his head. “Those who are on the Council are there because they earned it in some way—because their contributions to society were greater than most.”

She nodded, as though it made sense to her. “So you have the smartest, highest-achieving individuals running your planet? That seems like it would be an improvement over the way we do things.”

“It works for us,” he said, and was about to delve into the concept of social standing when his wrist computer vibrated softly, reminding him of a virtual meeting he had coming up. He was supposed to convene with a defense expert and several designers to determine the best layout for the ten Centers. Annoyed at the interruption, Zaron considered canceling the meeting, but he didn’t want to risk a delay.

Reluctantly, he rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. You should rest and get some sleep. I have some work to do this evening.”

“Of course, I understand.” Getting up as well, she gave him a quick smile, and Zaron realized she was relieved for the dinner to be ending in such manner. She had probably been concerned that he would try to seduce her again, he thought with sudden irritation—and he likely would have, if it hadn’t been for this meeting.

“Well, good night then,” she said and, with a little wave, headed toward her own room. He heard her light footsteps and the sound of her kicking off her shoes, and then he went into his office, doing his best to focus on something other than the girl he wanted to fuck senseless.

Alone in her room, Emily lay down on the comfortable bed and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind enough to fall asleep.

She’d used the futuristic bathroom again, even taking a shower there—which was an experience in itself, with the water coming at her from all directions at a perfect pressure and temperature. A variety of soaps, shampoos, and deliciously scented lotions had been applied to her skin and hair without her having to lift a finger, and warm jets of air had dried her off afterwards. By the time she was done, every part of her had been luxuriously clean, and even her mouth had felt fresh, as though she had just brushed her teeth.

Now, however, her brain refused to relax, her head buzzing with everything she’d learned today. In just a few short hours, her world had been turned upside down, and she couldn’t stop dwelling on the incredible implications of what Zaron had told her.

Earth was about to make contact with an alien race—a race that had technology and medicine far beyond anything modern science could imagine. A race that had essentially created human beings.

If Zaron was telling the truth, in seventeen days nothing would ever be the same again. Would the Krinar cure cancer? Could they end poverty and hunger? Put a stop to war? It seemed as if Zaron’s civilization had moved past such issues. Did that mean that humanity now would too? What did his people intend to say when they appeared? How were they going to reveal themselves to the public, and what would be the fallout once they did? She pictured the screaming headlines, the hysteria from end-of-the-world fanatics…

When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were a strange mix of erotic images, scenes from Independence Day, hungry lions with coal-black eyes, and three-dimensional Excel spreadsheets filled with bowls of exotic fruit.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning, Emily woke up with a much clearer head. To her surprise, she’d slept well, much better than could be expected under the circumstances. Apparently, her subconscious mind wasn’t particularly bothered by the thought that aliens existed—or that she was being temporarily detained by one against her will.

Getting up, she put on the clothes Zaron had provided and used the facilities. Then she approached the wall, aware of an uneasy sensation in her stomach. Knocking on the wall, she waited, her fingers nervously twisting the soft material of her dress.

The wall in front of her dissolved, creating the entryway into the living room area. Zaron was standing on the other side.

“Good morning,” he said softly, looking at her. “I hope you got good sleep?”

“I did, thanks.” Emily did her best not to stare, but it was impossible. She had somehow managed to forget how gorgeous her captor was… and how her body reacted to him. Already, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up, her core clenching with sudden need. She had never wanted a man like that before—so instantly, so strongly. There was nothing rational or reasonable about the heat surging through her veins; it was animal lust, pure and simple. Her mind told her that he was not human, that she still knew nothing about him or his people, but her body didn’t care.

He was dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts—a plain outfit that somehow only emphasized his dark masculine beauty. His thick hair was slightly disheveled, and his broad shoulders strained the thin fabric of the shirt, his muscles clearly defined underneath his clothing.

Swallowing, Emily stepped through the opening, trying to ignore her racing pulse.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Zaron offered, his black eyes gleaming with subtle amusement. Emily had no doubt that he was aware of her physical response to him and was enjoying it tremendously.

“Um, yeah, sure.” Emily took a deep breath. “First, though, can you please tell me where my things are? You said you have my wallet, right?” She’d realized this morning that she hadn’t seen her wallet or phone since she’d woken up here—a realization that had made her feel even more like a prisoner.

Zaron nodded and said something in his language. A second later, one of the walls opened, and a stack of her belongings floated out. Grabbing them from the air, he handed them to her. “Here you go. The clothes were damaged, but I still kept them for you. The money inside your wallet got a little wet, but I think it should be all right. This little piece of technology, though”—he pointed at her smartphone—“didn’t survive its swim in the river.”

Holding her clothes with one hand, Emily took her phone in the other and tried to turn it on. The screen remained blank, and she could feel the residual moisture in the protective case. Zaron was right: the phone was dead. Of course, if it had been functional, she doubted he would’ve given it back to her so easily.

She checked the wallet next. To her relief, her driver’s license, credit cards, and cash were all there, although still a bit damp.

“I didn’t steal anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zaron said wryly as she finished flipping through the folds.

“I didn’t think you did.” Emily looked up at him. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t lose anything during my fall. Thank you for returning this to me.”

“Of course. Like I told you, you are my guest.”

“A guest who can’t leave,” Emily said, holding his gaze.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t respond to her statement. “For breakfast, how about a fruit salad with macadamia-raspberry dressing?” he asked instead.

“Sounds good.” Putting down her things on the floating couch, Emily followed Zaron into the kitchen. Perching on one of the floating planks at the table, she listened as he gave the house their food order—or at least that’s what she assumed he was doing when he spoke in Krinar.

Shifting in her seat, Emily took a slow breath, then another, trying to keep calm. She could feel the first stirrings of that caged, claustrophobic feeling she got from being indoors too much—a feeling that was exacerbated by the knowledge that this time, she really was locked up, that her freedom was under someone else’s control. Logically, she understood that her imprisonment was only temporary, but logic had nothing to do with the suffocating tightness in her chest.

Emily knew from experience that the tightness would only get worse. The last time she’d been forced to be indoors longer than a day was four years ago during a bad winter storm in Chicago. Nearly four feet of snow had fallen in a span of thirty-two hours, and it had been impossible to open the front door for almost three days. Emily, who had been sharing a small townhouse in Evanston with four roommates, had gotten so claustrophobic that she’d ended up climbing out of her first-floor bedroom window into a pile of snow—anything to get rid of the choking sensation of being stuck in a closed space for a prolonged period of time.

Ever since she’d woken up at Zaron’s house yesterday, she hadn’t been outside at all.

No, don’t think about that. Breathe, and don’t think about that.

“What’s wrong?” Zaron frowned, apparently sensing her growing discomfort. “Are you feeling ill?” Sitting down across from her, he gave her a questioning stare.

Emily bit her lip. She hated admitting to weakness, but she couldn’t remain indoors for the next two-plus weeks. She simply couldn’t.

“I have a thing,” she said after a moment. “I get weird if I stay inside too much. It’s a claustrophobia of sorts. I can handle small spaces, but not if I stay there for long.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You were fine yesterday.”

She nodded. “I can usually go about a day without it getting bad, but then I need to get some fresh air or I start going crazy. When I’m at work, I always volunteer to run errands—you know, getting coffee, dropping stuff off at the post office, picking up lunch for my team—anything I can do to leave the building for a few minutes. It’s not usually a big deal, but I just can’t be cooped up for long.”

Zaron leaned back, regarding Emily beneath half-closed eyelids. “I see. Do you need to go outside right now, or can you wait until after breakfast?”

A wave of relief flooded her, chasing away some of the suffocating tightness in her chest. “I can wait,” she said, giving him a genuine smile. “It’s not too bad yet.” She felt almost lightheaded with joy.

He wasn’t going to keep her locked up in the house after all.

While they were speaking, their breakfast had landed on the table.

“We can go for a swim,” Zaron said, reaching for a bowl of fruit and nuts in some exotic-looking sauce. “There’s a nice lake near here.”

“A swim? That would be great,” Emily said, falling ravenously on the fruit. The salad was delicious, but she could barely taste it in her eagerness to be outside. Aside from alleviating her claustrophobia, going out would also give her a chance to look for an escape route.

If Zaron thought she would meekly accept losing the job opportunity of a lifetime, he had another thing coming. Emily had worked too hard to let her career be derailed so easily.

One way or another, she needed to get back home.

After breakfast, Zaron fabricated a swimsuit for Emily and some swimming shorts for himself. Adhering to the non-disclosure mandate meant that everything he wore had to at least look like human clothing, so he found the bikini design for Emily on human Internet.

Entering Emily’s room, Zaron gave her the two pieces of cloth, then stepped out to let her change. He didn’t mind the upcoming outing, but her condition puzzled him. As soon as he’d seen her this morning, he’d sensed a strange tension in her, and her anxiety had only seemed to get worse as the morning progressed. By the time they sat down to eat breakfast, Emily had looked like she’d wanted to crawl out of her skin. He didn’t think she’d been faking it, either; unless she was a world-class actress, her discomfort had been real.

A knock interrupted Zaron’s thoughts. He gave a quick command, and the wall to Emily’s room opened, creating a doorway for her.

She stood there wearing the same dress as before, only with the blue straps of her bikini peeking out from underneath. At the sight of his semi-naked body, a pink flush spread over her face and neck, giving her pale skin a delicate glow.

“Ready to go?” Zaron asked, suppressing a smile at the way she tried to keep her eyes above his neck. He’d just changed into his own swimwear, and he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt. Her feminine reaction to his body pleased him; the stronger the attraction, the easier it would be to coax her into his bed.

Emily nodded and followed him toward the far wall of the living room. When they approached, the intelligent material parted, creating an opening leading to the outside.

Stepping out, Zaron inhaled deeply, enjoying the heat of the sun on his exposed skin. It was already mid-morning, and the air was warm and humid, filled with the scent of bromeliads and the sounds of various living creatures. This region of Earth reminded him of home—the primary reason why he’d chosen this location for the main Krinar colony.

Turning, he saw Emily standing a few feet away from him, staring at the house behind them. “Not what you expected, is it?” he asked, seeing the expression on her face.

Unlike most Krinar or human dwellings, his temporary home was not a building at all. It was a high-tech cave located deep inside a small mountain. With the outside opening sealed, it was completely invisible behind a thick wall of greenery. Unless someone already knew it was there, it was impossible to find—either from the air or on foot.

“No,” Emily replied, turning to face him. “It’s not what I expected at all. Is this because you’re trying to stay hidden?”

“Yes. I don’t want some plane or helicopter to spot a strange structure in your jungle and decide to investigate.”

Emily gave him a thoughtful look but didn’t ask any more questions as they walked through the forest toward the lake. Now that she was outside, Zaron could sense her anxiety easing, the pinched look on her face disappearing. For the first time since he’d known her, the human girl appeared relaxed and happy, her soft lips curving in a smile as she watched a Sceloporus malachiticus—a spiny green lizard—scooting off a nearby rock.

“You seem quite comfortable here for someone who lives in New York City,” he remarked, noticing the ease with which she navigated the green jungle. She seemed to respect nature without being afraid of it, stepping carefully yet confidently through the thick grass. He was about to warn her about the painful sting of the Paraponera clava, but she avoided the bullet ant colony before he had the chance.

“I am comfortable here,” Emily said, flashing him a quick smile. “I grew up in semi-rural Georgia, actually, and only moved to New York for work. I was a very outdoorsy kid, climbing trees and catching bugs all day long. If I had my way, I would’ve lived in a treehouse.”

Zaron grinned, picturing a tiny Emily running through the woods. If she looked angelic now, he could only imagine what she must’ve been like as a child, with those large bright eyes and sunny hair.

“What about you?” she asked as they entered a small clearing. “What was it like for you as a child? Did you get to play outdoors a lot? I imagine your cities are very high-tech…”

“They are,” Zaron said. “But they’re different from your cities. We tend to build around the natural environment, instead of over it. In fact, our settlements look more like this jungle than one of your towns.”

“Really?” She gave him a surprised look. “So no skyscrapers, no roads, no cars?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Nothing of the sort. We do have some larger buildings for public events, but there aren’t many of them. We don’t like to cluster together like humans do, so our homes tend to be spread out—and we don’t need roads because we either walk or use flying transport.”

Zaron could see that Emily was about to ask him more questions, but at that moment they reached their destination.

About two miles across and three miles wide, the lake was a sizable body of water, fed by several different mountain streams—streams that were more like rivers at this time of year. Set deep within the forest, the lake was surrounded by walls of dense green vegetation and attracted all sorts of wildlife—a perfect spot for a biologist. Zaron frequently came here, both to enjoy the water and to study the local fauna.

“Watch out for that manchineel tree,” he told Emily, taking her arm to steer her away from the plant as they descended to the water. “The Hippomane mancinella is highly poisonous, and I didn’t bring any medical equipment with me.” The milky white sap of the tree contained strong toxins; just standing under its leaves during rain could cause human skin to blister.

“Oh, thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at him before turning her attention to the water. “I’ll be sure to avoid it from now on.” Her voice sounded slightly choked, and Zaron realized he was still holding her upper arm. His hand was startlingly dark against her ivory skin, his fingers almost encircling her slender arm.

For a moment, the temptation to pull her closer was unbearable. The air between them seemed to sizzle, the atmosphere rife with sexual awareness. She wanted him; he could smell the desire on her, hear her rapid heartbeat. Why was she resisting the inevitable? Surely Emily had to know that she would be his, that he wouldn’t let her go without first sinking deep into her soft, tender flesh.

“Is the lake safe for swimming?” Her voice was higher-pitched than usual, her words coming faster. She could sense the direction of his thoughts, he realized, and was doing her best to distract him from his growing hunger. “Is there anything dangerous there?”

“No,” Zaron said, reluctantly releasing her arm. “You have nothing to worry about.” As much as he wanted to press the issue, she was still too anxious. He would have her soon, he promised himself. Soon, but not quite yet.

Turning away from Emily, Zaron took off his sandals and walked down the narrow strip of rocky shore toward the water.

A dip in the cool lake sounded more appealing—and necessary—by the second.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Hardly able to breathe, Emily watched Zaron as he walked into the water, the sun reflecting off his thick, glossy hair. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and she felt too warm, her skin tingling from the residual sensation of his touch.

She had known he had a good physique, of course; his clothes had done little to hide his powerful muscles. But knowing and seeing were two very different things—as Emily had discovered when she came out of her room and saw him standing there, dressed in nothing but a pair of light gray swimming shorts.

Her alien captor was devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. Smooth, darkly bronzed skin, unmarred by even a hint of imperfection, covered every inch of his rippled torso. Wide shoulders, a lean waist, and narrow hips formed a striking V-shape, and there was no fat anywhere on his muscled body. From the smattering of dark hair on his chest to the clearly defined eight-pack on his flat abdomen, he was an unbelievably gorgeous male animal.

Walking next to him through the dense forest, Emily had barely been able to keep her eyes off his body, and the second he touched her again, she’d felt like she’d been set on fire. His strong fingers had held her arm with an iron grip, ostensibly to protect her from the poisonous tree, and her body had surged with desire, warm moisture inundating her sex.

Why was she still resisting? a small, insidious voice whispered in her mind. Would it be so bad to throw caution to the wind and enjoy herself for once? How often did one get an opportunity to fuck a man that hot? And what did it matter if there was no future for them, if he was from a different species and she would never see him again once she went home? Thousands of women hooked up with strangers during their travels. Emily’s choice of partner might be more exotic, but ultimately, that’s all it would be: a short vacation fling with a man who was literally out of this world.

No. Shaking her head, Emily shimmied out of her dress, pushing away the dangerous thoughts. She had to focus on getting her life and career back on track, and an affair with an extraterrestrial—an extraterrestrial who was holding her captive, no less—was the last thing she needed.

Kicking off her shoes, she walked toward the water, grateful that Zaron seemed to be swimming away from the shore and not paying attention to her. She had no idea how many more seduction attempts she could withstand before giving in, and she had a strong suspicion that being mostly naked together was not conducive to maintaining the appropriate distance.

Just a quick swim, Emily promised herself, enjoying the cool water lapping at her skin. Just a quick swim to clear her head, and then she could start figuring out how to get herself out of this predicament.

The bottom of the lake was as rocky as the shore, hurting her bare feet, but she didn’t have to walk for long before it was deep enough to swim. Leisurely moving through the water, she saw Zaron swimming in the distance.

Very far in the distance.

Her pulse accelerated with sudden excitement. He was so far away she could barely see his dark head in the water. In fact, he was almost in the middle of the lake. She must’ve been standing there, staring at the water, much longer than she’d thought.

This was her opportunity, her chance to escape before the seventeen days were up. Emily was in good running shape, and she had a rough idea of where they were, having seen something that looked like this lake on a map she’d studied for her hiking excursion. She couldn’t be more than ten, fifteen miles away from one of the towns. If she got enough of a head start on Zaron, there was a strong possibility she might make it to civilization before he could catch her—and she would be back home in time for her interview.

Keeping an eye on the dark head in the distance, she exited the water and nonchalantly walked toward her sandals, doing her best to pretend she was simply warming up. Pulling on her shoes and dress, she cast one last look in Zaron’s direction—verifying he was still in the middle of the lake—and sprinted toward the woods.

Swimming through the calm water, Zaron enjoyed the relaxing exercise, his muscles moving and stretching with every slow, deliberate stroke. Cognizant of Emily’s presence nearby, he did his best to slow his pace to that of a human, but he was not entirely sure he succeeded. Even after six months on Earth, he found it difficult to move as Homo sapiens did—another reason for his decision to leave human cities in favor of more remote regions.

Glancing toward the shore, he saw Emily coming out of the lake. With his sharp Krinar eyesight, he could see everything, right down to the droplets of water glistening on her pale skin. His breath caught in his throat, his cock hardening at the sight. Zaron had purposefully resisted looking at her earlier, unsure of his self-control, and now he could see that he had been right to avoid temptation. Clad in only a small blue bikini, his human guest was a symphony of long, shapely legs and feminine curves, her breasts full and upright and her small waist flaring out to a firm, heart-shaped bottom. With her blond hair twisted carelessly on top of her head, she looked like a ray of sunlight, her skin oddly luminous from the distance.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Zaron watched hungrily as she bent down and slipped on her sandals, then pulled on her dress. Her movements were casual, almost lazy. Deceptively casual, he realized, noticing the tension in her shoulders. Straightening, she briefly looked in his direction, her eyes squinting against the bright light… and then she bolted.

She was running away from him.

Driven purely by instinct, Zaron dove under, cutting through the water with ferocious speed. Sharp, irrational anger churned in his veins, adding to his visceral urge to hunt down fleeing prey. How dare she run? He had saved her life, and she was his—his to fuck, his to keep for as long as he wished.

It took him less than two minutes to cross the distance to the shore. Surging out of the water, he caught a trace of her scent disappearing into the woods. She hadn’t gotten far, but even if she had, it wouldn’t have mattered. No human could ever outrun a Krinar.

His jaw set in a grim line, Zaron began the chase.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Running through the forest, Emily felt her breathing settle into a steady rhythm—one that she knew would enable her to keep the pace for the next few miles. To her relief, the strappy sandals Zaron had given her sat snugly on her feet, without even a hint of the rubbing discomfort one normally expected with such footwear.

Though the last two years had been tough, with her job consuming nearly all of her waking hours, Emily had usually managed to sneak in a five-mile run every couple of days. It didn’t compare to the rigorous fitness regimen she’d had in college, but it was better than turning into a complete couch potato—and she was extremely grateful for those runs now. She could feel her muscles warming up and stretching, her lungs working easily, and she knew she would be able to keep this up for at least an hour. By then, Zaron should be far behind her, assuming he even bothered to come after her once he reached the shore.

If all went well, she would not see him again.

The thought was strangely upsetting, so she pushed it out of her mind. There was no going back now. For better or for worse, she had escaped, and now she needed to make sure she found civilization quickly.

Just one foot in front of the other, Emily. One foot in front of the other.

Focusing on the familiar runner’s refrain, she leapt over a fallen log… and ran smack into an impossibly hard body.

The impact knocked the breath out of her. Reeling back, she tripped over the log and would’ve fallen if strong hands hadn’t caught her at that moment. In a flash, Emily found herself stretched on the ground on her back, her arms pinned above her head, with six-feet-plus of dripping-wet, muscular male sprawled on top of her.

Zaron. He had somehow caught up with her.

He was breathing hard, and she could see a muscle pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw. His thick dark hair was plastered against his skull, his black eyes glittering like coals.

He looked savage—and utterly furious.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice was a feral growl, his fingers like a steel vise around her wrists. “You can’t run from me.”

Her lungs finally started to function, and Emily greedily sucked in air, trying to gather her wits. How had Zaron gotten here so quickly from the middle of the lake? Even the best Olympic swimmers couldn’t have covered that distance in such a short time. “What… how did you…?” She couldn’t seem to get more than a few words out through the thunderous pounding of blood in her ears. She could feel every inch of his hard, half-naked body, the moisture from his skin seeping into her dress, and her flesh reacted instantly, her nipples pebbling into taut, erect buds.

“How did I what?” He lowered his head until his face was only a few inches from her own, his gaze burning into her. Water dripped from his hair onto her forehead, the droplets startlingly cold on her overheated skin. “How did I catch you?”

Emily managed to nod.

“I can always catch you.” His voice softened to a hoarse whisper, and a hotter, darker gleam appeared in his eyes. “There’s no place on this planet or beyond where I couldn’t find you, angel… if I were so inclined.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then began to gallop madly in her chest. She could feel a growing hardness against her leg, and an answering heat flooded her body even as deepening awareness of her own vulnerability made her stomach tighten. “Let go,” she whispered, straining against his hold. It was like being pinned down by a mountain, and the sense of helplessness was both frightening and maddening. “Zaron, let me go…”

He stared at her, his jaw muscle flexing, and the blazing hunger on his face sent a surge of alarmed excitement through her. She could sense him battling for control—and she knew the exact moment when he lost the battle.

With a tortured groan, he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his.

There was nothing sweet and tender about this kiss; it was a raw, carnal claiming. Zaron’s lips and tongue were everywhere, consuming her, stealing away her breath, her will to resist. His right hand effortlessly held both of her wrists above her head, and his left slid down her body, fisting in her skirt and pulling it up. Wherever his fingers brushed against her skin, her flesh was left burning, aching for his touch. Overwhelmed, Emily arched against him, uncertain if she wanted to get closer or throw him off, and felt his knee parting her naked thighs as he grabbed her bikini bottoms and ripped them off. Only the wet material of his shorts separated them now, the heavy pressure of his erection pushing against her exposed sex.

Suddenly, her hands were free. Gasping, Emily grabbed at Zaron’s shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as he began a rocking motion with his hips, each move rubbing the hard length of his cock on her clit and sending waves of heat throughout her body. He was still kissing her with deep, drugging kisses that clouded her mind, and somewhere low within her belly, a familiar tension began to build as he pulled off her bikini top and closed his hand around her breast, firmly massaging the soft weight under the thin fabric of her dress.

Her head swimming, Emily moaned into his mouth, unable to focus on anything but the dizzying pleasure surging through her. All her fears, all her doubts evaporated, burned away in the searing heat of his embrace. Her fingers slid into his thick hair, holding him closer, and her hips began to move in an answering rhythm.

Zaron groaned again, and she dimly registered another ripping sound. He’d torn off his shorts, she realized vaguely, feeling the smooth head of his cock brushing against her inner thigh. The tension inside her intensified, her core throbbing with molten need, and she lifted her hips toward him, unconsciously begging for more.

At her move, Zaron stiffened and raised his head to stare down at her, holding himself propped up on one elbow. His breathing was harsh and fast, his lips shiny from their kisses. “Do you want this?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. He nudged his hips forward, the tip of his shaft pressing into the soft notch between her legs. “Do you want this, Emily?”

His eyes bore into her, demanding an answer, and she nodded helplessly, unable to do anything else. She’d never known such aching want, a desire so intense it bordered on agony. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he stopped now, and her usual voice of caution remained silent as he grasped her thigh with one strong hand, opening her legs wider, and began to push in.

Despite her arousal, the initial penetration wasn’t easy. He was thick and long, much bigger than any man she’d been with, and as he advanced deeper into her yielding flesh, a cry escaped her lips at the stinging, stretching pressure. Tensing, Emily gripped his arms and felt a shudder run through his body as her inner muscles tightened around his hard length in a futile attempt to repel the invasion.

At her pained cry, Zaron stopped, his large body shaking with the effort of holding himself still, and Emily saw that his black eyes were glazed with hunger. Yet when he lowered his head, brushing his lips against her cheek, the gesture held startling tenderness. “Are you all right?” he murmured, his warm breath washing over her left ear and sending shivers of pleasure down her body.

Closing her eyes, Emily wound her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his hips. The discomfort was already passing, and the earlier fever was returning. “Yes,” she whispered, arching up to take him even deeper, and shuddered in helpless delight as the movement intensified the sensations emanating from her core.

Zaron shuddered too, the last bit of his control disappearing, and began thrusting heavily, driving into her with punishing force. Gasping, Emily clung to him, feeling like a sliver tossed about in a storm. Her world narrowed, all her senses focused on him. His skin was slick with water and sweat, his muscles bunching and flexing underneath her fingertips. She could feel his thick shaft moving deep inside her, smell his warm, musky scent, and the tension within her spiraled higher, centering on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh, her heartbeat skyrocketing… and then she was suddenly there, a gasping cry escaping her throat as her body exploded in the most powerful orgasm of her life.

He rode her through it, his thrusts hard and relentless, giving her no time to recover, and to her shock, she felt another climax approaching, her sensitized flesh requiring minimal stimulation this time. Sensing it, he picked up the pace, grinding his groin against her clit with every thrust, and Emily screamed as another violent orgasm ripped through her, leaving her shattered and breathless in its wake.

The convulsive clenching of her sex seemed to trigger Zaron’s own release, and she felt him tense, a rough sound rumbling in his chest as he stilled, grinding his pelvis harder against her. Emily could feel his cock pulsing deep inside her, his seed spurting out in warm jets, and she clutched at his sides, stunned by the intensity of the experience.

For a few moments, they lay unmoving, their bodies glued together by sweat as their breathing slowly returned to normal. Zaron was heavy on top of her, and for the first time, Emily became aware that she was lying on the hard ground, with small rocks and twigs digging into the bare skin of her back. Shifting slightly, she tried to get more comfortable, and Zaron lifted himself on his elbows again, relieving her of the bulk of his weight. His softening sex was still lodged inside her, and the intimacy of their position made Emily’s cheeks flame as she met his gaze.

“You’re not going anywhere, angel,” he said quietly. There was something different in the way he looked at her now, something dark and possessive that hadn’t been there before. “Not until I let you go. Do you understand me?”

Emily’s mouth tightened, but she gave a short nod. Now was not the time to argue—not with him still buried deep within her flesh, not while she was reeling from the devastating pleasure. Later she would try to regroup, to figure out a way to escape, but for now she had to pacify him, to play the part of a meek captive. She couldn’t bear it if he decided to keep her locked up after today’s incident.

“Good.” Lowering his head, Zaron kissed her briefly, his lips brushing against hers, and carefully withdrew from her swollen channel. Rising to his feet, he pulled her up.

Emily had lost her bikini, but her dress had somehow managed to survive, and it now fell into place, covering her naked bottom. Zaron’s shorts, however, lay torn on the ground. He didn’t seem concerned about that, appearing as comfortable naked as he’d been clothed. She could see his balls swinging heavily between his legs, his sex glistening with their combined moisture, and her mouth went dry at the knowledge that she’d had him inside her—that she’d actually had sex with this man.

With this alien, a small inner voice corrected her, and Emily swallowed, not wanting to examine that fact too closely. Her legs felt like jello, but she took a shaky step back, wanting to put some distance between them. Zaron didn’t let her, however, his hand tightening around her arm. Before she could object, she found herself lifted up off the ground and ensconced comfortably in his arms.

“We’re going home,” he said, glancing down at her as he headed toward the woods, carrying her as effortlessly as if she weighed nothing. “I think that was enough fresh air for today.”

The return trip took less time, as Zaron maintained a brisk pace, navigating the familiar woods with ease. Emily protested being carried, saying that she could walk just fine on her own, but he refused to put her down, needing to feel her clasped securely against his chest. She hadn’t succeeded in escaping and she never would, but he was still reluctant to let go of her, a strange feeling gripping him every time he thought of her attempted run.

Despite his initial anger, Zaron understood why she’d done it. The human girl was used to her independence, to being in charge of her own life. It undoubtedly rankled her to be forced to remain his guest. He understood and even sympathized with her dilemma to some extent. However, that didn’t change his irrational, primitive conviction that Emily belonged to him, that somehow she was his.

Having sex with her had only strengthened the feeling. His body was temporarily sated, but he was already craving more of the addicting pleasure, hungering to fuck her over and over again. The fact that he had restrained himself from taking her blood didn’t help. He hadn’t wanted to get carried away out in the open, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about the liquid aphrodisiac that ran through her veins—and about what it would be like to be deep inside her when he sliced his teeth across her throat and tasted her blood for the first time.

“You’re stronger than a human, aren’t you?” Emily’s question brought him out of his thoughts, causing him to glance down at her. She had her arms around his neck, hanging on as if afraid he would drop her. “You’ve been carrying me for half a mile, and you’re not even winded,” she explained, gazing up at him.

Zaron hesitated for a moment, then decided that he could reveal that much. Humans would discover that fact about the Krinar early on. “Yes,” he confirmed, stepping over a small Lippia alba shrub. “We’re stronger than your kind. And faster—which is how I was able to catch you.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “How much stronger and faster?”

“Enough that none of your athletes would be a challenge,” he told her, not wanting to go into specifics. He could crush every bone in the human body with hardly any effort, but Emily didn’t need to know that. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him. He would never physically harm her, but she might not believe him—particularly if she knew about his species’ predatory origins and predilection toward violence.

She frowned at his response, but before she could pepper him with more questions, they arrived at his dwelling.

Approaching the entryway, Zaron stepped through the opening, carrying Emily inside like a prize of war. It wasn’t until the wall securely sealed itself behind him that he finally let her go, lowering her to her feet. He knew he was probably acting like a barbarian, but he didn’t care. If she didn’t want to be his guest, then she would be his captive, with all that it implied. He had no qualms about keeping her prisoner—not after she had betrayed his trust by trying to run.

As soon as he released her, she backed away from him, her chin raised defiantly. “I’d like to take a shower,” she said, giving him an even look. However, Zaron detected a small tremor in her hands. Emily was more distressed than she appeared to be. Was she regretting what happened between them? Or was she still trying to keep him at arm’s length, to pretend that nothing had changed?

Either way, Zaron wasn’t about to allow it. She had let him into her body, and she was his now. There would be no going back for her.

“Of course,” he said. “You need a shower—and so do I.”

Without waiting for her response, he stepped toward her. Grasping her skirt, he pulled the dress off over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her standing there fully naked.

Then he picked her up again and carried her into her room, heading straight for the bathroom.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cradling Emily against his chest, Zaron stepped inside the tall circular stall and gave a quick command for the water to start.

“You can put me down, you know,” she said dryly as the water began pouring over their bodies. “I can stand on my own two feet—and there’s obviously nowhere to run here.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Zaron’s mouth. He was definitely acting like a barbarian. “All right. If you wish.” Placing her carefully on the slick floor, he let the intelligent shower apply cleansing liquids to her hair and skin while he received the same treatment.

He had no idea why it was so difficult for him to keep his hands off Emily, but he could hardly bear not to touch her. It wasn’t a purely physical need, either, though his body was again beginning to stir at her nearness. No, this compulsion went deeper, he realized with an inner chill. He wanted to keep her close, to feel her next to him at all times… to hold her and possess her.

Like he had wanted Larita.

This time, the slicing pain in his chest was too sharp to ignore, and Zaron turned away from Emily, not wanting her to see the agony on his face. He couldn’t possibly want a human in the same way he’d wanted his mate. Larita had been his entire life for more than forty years, and the fact that he could even think of her in the same sentence as Emily felt like a betrayal to her memory.

And yet… he couldn’t recall when he’d last felt so alive. For the first time since Larita’s death, dark thoughts didn’t consume Zaron’s every waking moment, his rage and grief easing in Emily’s presence. He’d smiled and laughed more in the past couple of days than in all of last year, and sex with Emily had been as intense and satisfying as what he’d once experienced with his mate.

It didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

For the first time in years, Zaron felt like his old self, and Emily was the reason for that.

Turning back toward her, he watched as she leaned into the water spray, her eyes closed and her wet hair streaming down her slender back. With her profile facing him, he noticed her small, straight nose and the pure lines of her chin and jaw. Her mouth looked soft and lush, swollen from their earlier encounter, and as his gaze drifted down her body, his cock thickened and hardened, responding to the sensual sight before him.

He didn’t know why this particular human girl had this kind of effect on him, but he wasn’t going to waste time worrying about it, he decided as heat built under his skin. He had his little captive for another sixteen days, and he intended to enjoy every single one of them.

Stepping toward Emily, he pulled her against his aroused body and captured her startled gasp with his mouth.

She tasted sweet, her breath slightly minty from the cleaning. Her lips clung to him, responding to his kiss, and her fingers clutched at the muscled flesh of his arms, her fragile nails digging into his skin. He could feel her naked breasts pushing against his chest, her nipples like hard little pebbles, and his balls tightened as fresh blood surged to his groin. Groaning, Zaron backed her against the wall of the stall, his hand slipping down her body to the soft, tempting opening between her legs.

She was already wet, ready for him, and Zaron felt his hunger intensify as she bucked against his fingers, a low moan escaping her throat. Pressing his thumb against her clit, he pushed his middle finger into her small, slippery channel, searching for the sensitive spot on her inner wall. “Yes, that’s it,” he murmured, lifting his head to gaze down at her flushed face. “Come for me, angel…” He could feel the soft, spongy area with the pad of his finger, and as he pressed on it lightly, her sheath contracted around him, squeezing his finger so tightly his dick jumped in response.

Emily was panting now, her pupils dilated as she gazed up at him, and he increased the pressure on that soft internal spot, his thumb simultaneously circling her clit. She cried out, her body jerking against him, and he felt her orgasm begin, her inner walls undulating around his finger in a sinuous, rippling motion.

Unable to wait any longer, Zaron removed his finger and gripped the back of her thighs, lifting her off the floor and opening her legs. Without further preliminaries, he aligned the head of his shaft with her entrance and pushed inside.

As before, the feel of her was heady, intoxicating. She was incredibly tight around his cock, her soft flesh squeezing him, embracing him as he advanced deeper. He could smell the sweet musk of her arousal, hear the rapid beating of her heart, and his eyes fell to her neck, drawn by the pulse throbbing underneath her pale, nearly translucent skin. An ancient, animalistic hunger rose with him, a predatory craving that no amount of genetic manipulation had been able to suppress, and he slowly lowered his head, brushing his lips against the delicate column of her throat. She moaned, her neck arching back, and the craving became unbearable. Using his left hand to hold her up, Zaron gripped Emily’s hair with his right hand, forcing her to keep still. Then, in one sharp motion, he sliced the sharp edges of his upper teeth across her skin and pressed his mouth to the resulting wound.

Blood, hot and coppery, spurted onto his tongue, the flavor rich and uniquely satisfying. Emily cried out at the sudden pain, tensing in his arms, but then he felt the drugging effect of his saliva take effect on her. Her body melted against him, her sex clenching and pulsing around his cock, and he knew she was overcome by the same wave of pleasure that was sweeping over him. Ecstasy, fierce and effervescent, zinged through Zaron’s nerve endings, enhancing his every sense until he felt like he would burst from the overwhelming sensations. Everything was brighter, hotter, more intense, and he felt all rational thought slip away as his body took over, the taste of her blood amplifying his lust to an unbearable degree.

He wasn’t sure how long he fucked her up against that shower wall, or at what point he managed to carry her to bed. All he knew was that they both came over and over again, in a violent orgasmic frenzy that knew no end.

It wasn’t until Emily passed out in his arms that Zaron found the will to stop, his body sated yet clamoring for more.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gradually regaining consciousness, Emily became aware of a puzzling array of aches and pains. Every muscle in her body felt sore, as though she’d done some major exercise. When she opened her eyes and shifted slightly on the bed, she realized that the discomfort ran deeper, her sex feeling swollen and tender from overuse.

She was also naked underneath the blanket.

Her heartbeat increasing, Emily frantically sifted through her memories, trying to make sense of it all. She remembered the outing to the lake, followed by her failed attempt to escape—an attempt that had ended in the most unbelievable sex of her life. She also vividly recalled showering with Zaron and the way he had reached for her again, overwhelming her senses and stealing away her will to resist before she’d had a chance to regroup from their first encounter.

At that point, however, things seemed to get fuzzy in her mind. All she could remember was a jumble of never-before-experienced sensations and a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.

Holy shit. She’d had sex with an alien. An alien who was keeping her imprisoned in his house. Emily couldn’t even begin to process the implications of something like that, so she shoved that thought aside for later analysis.

Frowning, she sat up, staring around the room. She was alone again, with no sign of Zaron. What had happened yesterday? Why did she feel this way?

Slowly climbing out of bed, Emily made her way to the bathroom, suppressing a moan at the deep internal ache between her thighs. She’d never felt this sore after sex, not even after her first time. Looking down, she noticed faint marks and bruises on her skin. Was sex with a male of Zaron’s species different after all? A shudder ran through her at the thought, even as her core warmed at the remembered sensations.

No, don’t think about it now. Forcing her mind off that topic, Emily took care of her basic needs and washed her hands. Just as she was about to step into the shower, she heard someone enter the room.

Turning, she stared at the man who had become her lover. She felt oddly conscious of her nakedness. She had never been particularly shy with her boyfriends, but somehow this was different. Neither Jason nor Tom had ever looked at her the way Zaron was looking at her now: with a deeply possessive hunger that made her sex throb in response. It was a look that made her viscerally aware of her body, of her femininity.

“You’re already up,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming as he came toward her. Dressed in a light blue T-shirt and a pair of snug-fitting jeans that hugged his powerful thighs, he was as stunning as usual, devastating her senses with his presence.

She’d actually had sex with this gorgeous creature.

“Yes, I woke up a little while ago,” Emily managed to reply, her voice slightly hoarse. Clearing her throat, she tried to focus on the mundane. “What time is it?”

“Just after nine in the morning,” Zaron said, a small frown appearing on his face as his gaze ran over her body, lingering on the finger-shaped marks on her thighs. In the next second, he was in front of her, his hands gripping her upper arms as he turned her this way and that, thoroughly inspecting every inch of her skin.

“Hey!” Emily tried to twist away. “What are you doing?” She’d been doing her best to pretend that this was just a regular morning-after so they could avoid any unnecessary awkwardness, but Zaron seemed determined to ruin her efforts.

Ignoring her ineffectual struggles, he released her arms and crouched in front of her, lightly running his hands down her thighs. When he rose to his feet again, the anger on his face almost made her flinch.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice filled with self-loathing, and she realized that he was upset with himself, not her. “Fuck, Emily, I didn’t realize I’d marked you like this. I knew humans were fragile, but I didn’t think—” He stopped himself from continuing, his chest rising as he took a calming breath. When he spoke again, his tone was marginally softer. “Are you in pain, angel?” he asked, his eyes holding her captive.

Emily felt a hot flush crawl along her hairline. “I’m a bit sore,” she admitted reluctantly. She didn’t want him to think of her as a fragile human. She had always prided herself on being strong and fit; even as a child, she’d enjoyed sports and other physically challenging activities, preferring games of tag to playing with dolls. She wasn’t some frail maiden who needed to be treated with kid gloves. “It’s not a big deal,” she added, seeing the expression on Zaron’s face. “Nothing that a hot shower wouldn’t fix.”

His mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Turning, he left the room, moving so quickly that Emily blinked in surprise.

Shrugging at his inexplicable behavior, she stepped into the shower.

Before the water had a chance to start, Zaron reappeared, carrying a small silvery object shaped like a tube. “Hold still, please,” he instructed, kneeling in front of her.

Bemused, Emily stared as he moved the object over her body, focusing on the areas with visible bruising. There was a red light coming from the little device, a light that felt pleasantly warm on her damaged skin. To her amazement, the marks faded almost immediately, disappearing without a trace.

“Wow,” she breathed, bending her right knee and wiggling her foot. The muscle aches from earlier were gone as well. “Zaron, is this how your healing technology always works?”

He nodded, looking up at her. “Yes. It uses nanocytes, if you are familiar with that concept.”

“Nanocytes? As in, mature nanotechnology?” Emily had read about it while researching a tech startup, and from what she understood, the possibilities of such technology were pretty much limitless. Nanomachines were unbelievably tiny robots that could be programmed to function in a variety of different ways—something that modern science could only theorize about at this point. “Wait a minute… Are you putting these nanocytes into my body?”

“Yes, precisely.” He seemed pleased that she’d grasped it so quickly. “That’s what heals your injuries,” he explained, moving the object toward her pelvis. Before she realized his intentions, he placed his hand between her legs and shined the light directly at her sore opening. There was a brief tingling sensation, and then the internal tenderness was gone.

“Now you can shower,” Zaron said with satisfaction, rising to his feet. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against her mouth in a quick, proprietary kiss, then stepped back. “In fact, you better shower before I get carried away again,” he said huskily and left the room, the wall closing behind him.

Emily showered on auto-pilot, her thoughts jumping in a dozen different directions. She was both fascinated and horrified by the idea of tiny alien machines running around in her body. Was that how he’d healed her before? It made sense. Just as a surgeon could sew together a wound, a nano-sized machine could theoretically fix damage on a cellular level. No, not theoretically, she corrected herself. It could actually do so. The fact that she felt perfectly normal was proof of that.

Stepping out of the shower, Emily let the air currents dry her off, then headed back into the bedroom to get dressed. It was only when she was pulling on her sandals that she realized something.

She still didn’t know what had necessitated the healing in the first place. Her memory of last night was as fuzzy as if she’d been drugged.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Zaron… What exactly happened last night?”

Munching on a plate of fruit salad across the kitchen table, Emily gave him an inquiring look. With the pale yellow dress she was wearing today, her eyes were more green than blue, reminding Zaron of burit—a moss-like plant on his home planet.

Finishing his own breakfast, he considered her question, wondering how to best answer it. While he didn’t know what the official post-arrival protocol would entail, he suspected the Council would not be eager to reveal the vampiric tendencies of his race right away.

“What do you mean?” he asked, deciding to pretend ignorance for now. Giving Emily a slow smile, he reached across the table and picked up her hand, gently rubbing the inside of her palm with his thumb. “You know what happened, angel. Or would you like a reminder?”

She licked a drop of fruit juice off her lips, staring at him, and his body tightened at the memory of how those lips had felt and tasted. “I remember that we had sex, of course,” she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp. “What I don’t remember is the rest of the day after the shower, or how I ended up that sore. Did you give me something? Like a drug of some kind?”

“No, of course not,” Zaron said, amused by the idea. It wasn’t a drug that had made her memory of their encounter hazy; it was a naturally occurring substance in Krinar saliva, a leftover from the days when his kind hunted the lonar—a primate species whose blood had provided them with key nutrients. Schooling his features into an impassive expression, he asked silkily, “You don’t remember all the orgasms I gave you?”

Emily’s cheeks turned pink, but her gaze didn’t waver from his face. “No, I don’t. Are you telling me we had sex all day and night?”

Zaron nodded, suppressing a smile at the incredulous note in her voice. “Pretty much,” he confirmed. “You finally fell asleep around three in the morning.”

“Three in the morning?” She gaped at him. “But it was not even noon when we went to the lake!”

“I guess my people have more stamina when it comes to sex,” Zaron said, watching her reaction. “We don’t get tired as easily as humans.”

The color in Emily’s face intensified. “If that’s true, then I don’t think we’re particularly compatible,” she said tightly. “You’d be better off with another Krinar.”

“But I don’t want another Krinar.” Zaron reached for her hand again. Capturing her fingers, he leaned forward. “I want you.”

And it was true. He didn’t simply want sex—he wanted Emily. Last night had been one of the most incredible experiences of his life, and he couldn’t wait to have her again. He could see that she still had reservations about being with him, but he had no intention of letting her back away from him.

He had her for another fifteen days, and he planned to spend a good portion of that time buried deep inside her sweet little body.

Emily frowned, trying to tug her hand away. “Look, Zaron, just because we had sex once—okay, several times”—she conceded at the ironic look on his face—“doesn’t mean that this is going to be an ongoing thing. You’re keeping me here against my will, and even if you weren’t, this is just not a good idea. We’re too different. For all I know, with that kind of appetite, you have an entire harem of women back home—”

“I don’t,” Zaron interrupted, his chest squeezing painfully. Releasing her hand, he leaned back, gripped by the familiar icy bleakness. “You have nothing to worry about in that regard, I can assure you.” The words came out unintentionally bitter, and he saw Emily’s eyes widen in surprise.

“You don’t have anybody waiting for you back home?”

“Not in the sense you mean,” Zaron replied, more calmly this time. “My parents and grandparents are on Krina, but I don’t have a ‘girlfriend,’ as you would call it.”

“Why not?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze roamed quizzically over his features. “Surely you have no problems attracting women. Unless the ones on your planet have different tastes?”

Zaron stared at her, a strange temptation gnawing at him. “No,” he said slowly. “They don’t.” Even by Krinar standards, he was considered an attractive male; he knew that without false modesty. Larita had always joked that his parents had made him too pretty, frequently teasing him about being better-looking than her.

“Then what is it?” Emily persisted, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You said you’re six hundred years old. Shouldn’t you have a wife and kids by now?”

“I had a wife,” Zaron said abruptly, giving in to the temptation. “She died eight years ago.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back, but it was too late. The curiosity on Emily’s face disappeared, replaced by shock and that which he hated most: pity.

To his relief, she didn’t start mouthing platitudes. Instead, she asked softly, “Were you together for long?”

“Forty-four of your Earth years.” Just three years short of the Celebration of Forty-Seven—the formal event that would’ve publicized their union and made it permanent in the eyes of the Krinar society.

“I see,” Emily murmured, studying him. “May I ask what happened?”

“It was an accident.” Zaron’s mouth twisted. “Just a stupid, careless accident. Larita was what you would call an astronaut, an explorer of the geology of deep space. When she died, she was on a routine project in a nearby solar system, taking samples from a methane lake on a planet that somewhat resembles your Saturn’s moon Titan—right down to the lack of oxygen in the atmosphere.” He paused, swallowing the hard knot that had formed in his throat. “There was an unexpected volcanic eruption in a nearby area, and Larita’s oxygen tank got damaged by the flying debris. She would’ve been fine—except some of the oxygen leaked out, combining with the methane in the atmosphere.”

He could see the color leaving Emily’s cheeks as she realized where he was heading. “Yes,” he said flatly. “You can probably guess what happened next. Methane is highly flammable when oxygen is present, and with the volcano spewing hot magma, the lake around her became a fiery hell. Neither she nor her two colleagues survived.”

He stopped then, unable to say more as he relived the horror of hearing that the woman he’d loved more than life itself was gone, her body incinerated by an inferno on a far-off world. He hadn’t believed the news at first, had tried to deny it for as long as he could. It wasn’t until the remnants of Larita’s suit had been recovered that he’d accepted the truth: that his mate would never return from her routine expedition.

A warm, gentle pressure on his hand brought him out of the dark recollections. Glancing down, Zaron was surprised to find Emily’s slender fingers wrapped around his palm. She had reached across the table of her own initiative, gripping his hand in a gesture of silent support. Lifting his gaze back to her face, he saw that her eyes were glittering with unspilled moisture.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered achingly, and something about the look of genuine sympathy on her face tugged at his insides, chasing away some of the cold, heavy feeling in his stomach. “I’m truly sorry, Zaron. I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like, to lose someone you loved for so long.”

He drew in a deep breath, letting himself be soothed by the soft timbre of her voice and the feel of her delicate hand squeezing his palm. He didn’t know why he had confided in this human. It wasn’t like him at all. Zaron never voluntarily talked about Larita’s death; even after eight years, the memories were too fresh, too painful, and he wasn’t the type of person to burden others with his problems. Yet for some reason, he’d wanted to tell Emily, to see if she would understand.

She was still looking at him, as if debating something. Then, apparently reaching a decision, she began to speak.

“My parents died when I was four,” she said quietly, and Zaron froze, a chill skittering down his spine. “It was a car accident. They were passing a slow-moving truck on a highway, going about eighty miles an hour, when one of their tires blew. The car flipped several times before coming to a halt on the side of the road. My dad was killed instantly, and my mom passed away in the hospital a few hours later.” Her fingers tightened convulsively around his palm as she added hoarsely, “I was home with a babysitter at the time, you see, and my parents were rushing to get back to me because the movie ended later than they’d expected.”

“Emily…” Zaron didn’t know what to say. In many ways, her loss had been infinitely greater. He had been an adult, and as much as he’d loved Larita, he hadn’t depended on her the way a child depends on her parents. “I’m so sorry,” he finally said, his heart aching for the human girl. “Who raised you after that? Was it these foster homes you mentioned before?”

She nodded. “Yes. Well, and my aunt Wendy, I guess—my father’s sister. She took me in right after their death. Neither of my parents were from a large family, so she was the only close relative. I lived with her for eighteen months before she realized she was ill-equipped to deal with a traumatized child and put me in the foster system.”

“She gave you to some strangers to raise?” Anger churned in Zaron’s gut as he remembered Emily saying that there hadn’t been enough food at one of these foster homes. How could her aunt have done this? What kind of monster gave away her own flesh and blood? Krinar orphans were extremely rare in modern times, but if such a misfortune did occur, any relative, no matter how distant, would gladly take on the responsibility of caring for the child; anything else would be unthinkable.

A faint smile appeared on Emily’s lips. “Yes. It wasn’t too bad, actually. I preferred it that way. Aunt Wendy wasn’t… great with kids. It was a relief to be out of her house.”

Zaron’s blood ran cold. “Did she hurt you?” He leaned forward, covering her wrist with his other hand. He’d seen these types of stories on the human news, and the idea that Emily could’ve been abused… “Did she do something to you?”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “Nothing like what you’re imagining. She would occasionally punish me by locking me in my room, but she never did anything else to me. Neither did anyone else at any of the homes I stayed in. I was very lucky. Some of my foster parents were indifferent, but usually they were decent people who truly wanted to help—and who needed the extra money the government paid them for our upkeep.”

“Wait a minute,” Zaron said slowly, latching on to her throwaway comment. “Your aunt locked you in your room? Is that why you don’t like being indoors?”

Emily bit her lip, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Yes, probably.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp, leaving him strangely empty without her touch. “It’s not a big deal. Like I told you, I just need to go outside on a regular basis.” Holding his gaze, she added quietly, “I don’t do well in captivity—but then again, I don’t know many people who do.”

Zaron felt an unwelcome pang of guilt, followed by an irrational spike of anger. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I already explained why I have to detain you for a little while,” he said, carefully enunciating each word. “You’re the one who insists on making this into an ordeal. All you have to do is stay with me for the next fifteen days. Why is that so hard for you?”

She got up as well, her eyes narrowing. “Because I have a life out there.” Her sharp tone matched his. “Because I can’t stay here, having sex all day and night, while the career I worked so hard to build gets completely derailed. I’m not an animal that you can rescue and keep as a pet, Zaron—I’m a human being—and your so-called fear of exposure is nothing more than an excuse to deprive me of my freedom. You know as well as I do that I could run around Times Square screaming about aliens at the top of my lungs, and nobody would believe me—”

“Whether they do or not is irrelevant,” Zaron interrupted, stepping around the table. With her eyes flashing with fury, Emily looked so adorable that he felt his own anger fading, chased away by a familiar surge of lust. There was some truth to her words, but he refused to dwell on that now. Stopping in front of her, he clasped her face in his large hands and stared down into her stormy gaze. “I will not risk breaking the mandate at this point. Not even for you, angel.”

Her slender hands came up, her fingers curling around his wrists. “Zaron, please,” she whispered, and he could hear her breathing hitch as he pressed his growing erection against her belly. “This is not a good idea—”

“On the contrary…” He bent his head, his lips hovering inches from hers. “I think it’s an excellent idea.” Cradling her face between his palms, he kissed her, reveling in the way her soft lips clung to him. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of him either. Talking about Larita and learning about Emily’s past left Zaron feeling unsettled, strangely vulnerable and hungry for something he couldn’t define, even to himself. For a moment, he was tempted to take the girl again, but he controlled himself. As much as he wanted to stay in bed with Emily all day, there was work to be done—and he had to make allowances for the fact that his guest was, indeed, human.

Lifting his head, Zaron reluctantly lowered his hands and took a step back, ignoring the urgings of his throbbing cock. “I have something I need to take care of,” he said huskily, staring at her flushed face. “But I’ll be back in a few hours, and we’ll go for a walk, I promise. Are you going to be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Emily blinked, the glow of desire slowly fading from her cheeks. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Zaron murmured. “Then I will see you soon.”

Before he could get tempted again, he walked out of the room, heading for another virtual meeting in his office. There was a lot that needed to get accomplished in the next few days.

The main ships would be arriving shortly, and Zaron needed to make sure everything was ready.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

After Zaron left, Emily went back into her bedroom. To her relief, the wall entrances between the rooms now worked for her, opening and closing at her approach. Zaron must’ve adjusted the door settings at some point, giving her greater freedom to roam around the house. The outside wall didn’t budge, of course, but she hadn’t expected it to. Like it or not, she was stuck here for the next two weeks—with a gorgeous, insatiable alien who expected her to warm his bed for the duration.

Sighing, Emily sat down on the bed. She couldn’t pretend, even to herself, that she was anything but willing. She’d never had sex like that before, had never even dreamed that such ecstasy was possible. With Jason, they’d had fun in bed, but it had never gone beyond mild enjoyment for Emily. Still, her ex had at least known how to bring her to orgasm. With Tom, her boyfriend in high school, she’d never been able to come at all, their encounters ranging from painfully awkward to somewhat pleasant. But with Zaron, it was an experience unlike any other—at least as far as she could recall.

Why was last night so vague in her memory? The thought bothered Emily to no small degree. Zaron had deflected her question this morning, and she realized now that she was still completely in the dark. Was it possible that he was manipulating her mind somehow? Maybe with the help of the nanocytes he’d used to heal her?

The idea was so frightening that cold sweat broke out all over her body. Could Zaron do something like that? And more importantly, would he? He clearly had no qualms about keeping her captive for two-plus weeks, but taking away her freedom of thought was a different matter entirely. It would imply a complete and utter disregard for her as a person, and Emily didn’t want to believe that of him. Sure, he could be incredibly domineering, riding roughshod over her objections to their affair, but he didn’t treat her like she was less than human. On the contrary, she got the impression that he didn’t often speak about his wife’s death, yet he had opened up to Emily, trusting her with a subject that clearly pained him.

Forty-four years. He had been with his wife for forty-four years. The incredible longevity of the Krinar was still shocking to Emily. The only humans she knew who had been with their spouses that long were well into their sixties—and Zaron was clearly a man in his prime. If she’d met him on the street, she would’ve guessed him to be in his late twenties, never dreaming that he was old enough to have lived through the Renaissance.

She also wouldn’t have guessed that he’d had such tragedy in his past. Emily’s chest ached at the thought of what he must’ve gone through, losing his beloved partner of forty-plus years. Could that be why she was so drawn to him? Because she’d sensed that he was like her in that way: a survivor, someone who had also known suffering and loss? The fact that she’d felt so comfortable talking about her parents to Zaron seemed to indicate that. She rarely broached the subject with anyone who was not already a good friend, yet it had been the most natural thing in the world to share that experience with Zaron. In a weird way, she felt closer to him after three days than to Jason after three years.

If he were human, it would be easy to love him.

The thought came out of nowhere, shocking Emily with its stark clarity. Getting up, she began to pace, a cold pit of despair growing in her chest. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew she’d hit upon the crux of the matter. This was why she tried to resist this attraction, why she felt so uneasy at the impact Zaron had on her senses. It wasn’t because she was being smart and cautious.

It was because she was afraid.

Afraid to fall for a man with whom she could never have a future—a man who could leave her in pieces if she let him.

The pull she felt toward Zaron was more than sexual. She knew that now. Everything about him intrigued Emily, and it wasn’t simply the fact that he came from another world and could tell her things no human knew. No, as fascinating as she found his alienness, the knowledge she craved was both simpler and more complex. She wanted to know his innermost thoughts and feelings, to delve into his memories. She wanted to see him smile and laugh, to banish the shadows she’d glimpsed in him today. And even though she resented being kept prisoner, she couldn’t truly hate him for that—not when he had saved her life.

She was already falling for him, and there were still fifteen days left on her captivity clock.

No. Emily sat down on the bed again. This was insane. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—get attached to Zaron. That way lay a world of hurt. She needed to formulate a plan of escape, and she needed to do it now.

By Emily’s calculations, it was already Saturday, which meant that she had missed her morning flight home. At some point this evening, Amber would come by to bring back Emily’s cat and catch up, and she would get worried when she couldn’t reach Emily. And Emily’s interview with Evers Capital—the interview that could influence the entire course of her career—was this upcoming Thursday.

Frustrated, Emily reached for her damaged phone, picking it up off the floating plank next to her bed. She’d put it there after Zaron had returned it to her, though she didn’t know why she’d bothered keeping it. The thing was completely dead after its swim in the river. Removing the still-damp protective case, Emily shook the phone, then tried to turn it on again. Unsurprisingly, the screen remained dark.

Setting the phone down, Emily began to pace again, too wound up to sit still. One way or another, she needed to figure out a way to leave before her fifteen days were up.

Her career and peace of mind depended on it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When most of the remaining logistics were decided on, Zaron dismissed his team for the day. Only one member, Ellet, remained in the virtual meeting room at his request. A biologist like him, she’d chosen to specialize in Homo sapiens in recent decades and was considered a rising star in the Krinar scientific community. She was also someone Zaron thought of as a friend, even though he’d only known her for the past twelve years.

When they were finally alone in the room, Ellet walked over and sat down on the float next to Zaron, crossing her long legs in an unconsciously sensual gesture. A classic beauty, she was rumored to have been involved with Councilor Korum in recent months. Some of Ellet’s detractors even said that Korum was the reason she’d gotten a spot on the settlement preparation team—a highly coveted position among human biology experts. Zaron didn’t know if that was true and didn’t care. For all of her ambition, Ellet was one of the nicest individuals he knew, and he genuinely liked and respected her.

“So how is life?” she asked, watching him with her large hazel eyes. “Do you like the jungle better than the cities?”

“I do, actually,” Zaron said with a smile. Ellet had been the one to advise him to build his home near their future colony, and he was grateful for her suggestion. Even before Emily’s arrival, he had found a measure of peace in the forest, his senses resting from the overwhelming noise and crowds of human settlements. “What about you? Are you still enjoying Rio de Janeiro?”

“I am.” She grinned, her teeth flashing white. “It’s warm, and I blend in well. Whenever I go somewhere in public, humans ask me if I’m related to Gisele. Apparently, she’s a local supermodel.”

Zaron laughed. “Good for you. Sounds like you have indeed found your niche.”

“Yes, for now. I can’t wait for the Centers to be built, though. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the human appliances. Can you imagine having to manually put clothes into the washer?” She shuddered dramatically. “My apartment is so primitive it might as well be a cave. I wish I could build a normal house here, like you did, but it’s too risky in a big city—too many humans, too much chance of exposure…”

“Right, of course,” Zaron said slowly, wondering how to best broach the topic he wanted to discuss. “Speaking of exposure, I may have done something a bit… unusual.”

Ellet arched her dark eyebrows. “Such as?”

“I brought a human into my house.”

She blinked. “A human? Why? You don’t usually study them, right?”

“No, I don’t.” Zaron tended to focus on other animal and plant species. “I didn’t bring her in to study. I took her because she was dying, and I wanted to save her.”

“She?” Ellet asked delicately. “Are we talking about a young woman here? Perhaps a pretty young woman?”

“Perhaps,” Zaron conceded, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. Emily was more than pretty, but his colleague didn’t need to know that.

“Okay, I think I’m beginning to get the picture,” Ellet said, her eyes gleaming with amusement. If she was shocked by his admission, she hid it well. “I assume you did manage to save her. What do you plan to do with her? Does she know what you are?”

Zaron nodded. “She does. I’m keeping her with me for the next two weeks, until we go public.”

“I see.” Ellet regarded him curiously. “And have you already taken her blood?”

“Yes, once.” Heat rippled over his skin at the memory. “And I want to do it again. Ellet, there’s something I want to ask you about that…”

“You want to know about blood addiction,” she said, her expression turning more serious. “That’s why you’re telling me about this, isn’t it? I’m guessing you’ve done some research yourself?”

“I have, and there isn’t a lot of data on this.” Zaron raked his fingers through his hair. As a scientist, he hated not having all the facts. “I know it’s not advisable to take blood from the same human with any significant frequency, but most of the information on the network seems anecdotal at best. Have you looked into this? What are the true limitations?”

“Well,” Ellet said slowly, “I have looked into this somewhat. Like you said, most of the evidence is anecdotal, and we’re just starting to run simulations, so there is no definitive answer. What we do know is that humans get addicted to the experience overall, while we get addicted to the blood of a specific human. I would be careful if I were you. Let at least a couple of days go by between each session—maybe even a few days. With humans, there’s so much variability… You don’t want to get addicted, trust me—nor do you want her to become addicted to you.”

“Yes, of course.” Zaron had known about this phenomenon for a while, and he’d been careful to avoid taking blood from the same human more than once. It wasn’t difficult; there was no shortage of willing sex partners in large cities. When he’d lived in Los Angeles and Miami, he’d enjoyed a different woman every night, easily picking them up in bars and clubs. For some reason, though, the thought of being with anyone but Emily turned his stomach now. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” Ellet said, getting up. “If there’s anything else you need from me, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be in Costa Rica at some point in the next couple of weeks, so maybe we’ll be able to meet up in person.”

“That would be great.” Zaron rose to his feet. “You are more than welcome to stop by and enjoy some home comforts here.”

“Thank you.” Ellet smiled at him. “I might take you up on your invitation. Maybe you could even introduce me to this human girl of yours. She sounds quite special.”

“She is,” Zaron said, smiling back. “I’m sure she would enjoy meeting you as well.” With that, he exited the virtual environment, reality shifting and distorting in front of his eyes.

When his vision settled, he was back in his office, the bulk of his work finished for the day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

By the time Zaron came back, Emily was ready to climb walls. Her claustrophobia was back in full force, her throat tight as she paced in circles around her room. Aside from her worry about the interview, what bothered her the most was the blurriness in her memory. The missing hours weren’t a total blank—she had vague recollections of intensely pleasurable sensations—and that concerned her even more.

It was exactly as if she’d been drunk or drugged.

“What happened yesterday?” she demanded as soon as Zaron stepped into her room. Her tone was overly sharp, but she didn’t care. She had to get some answers before she went insane. “What did you do to me to make me forget?”

“Emily…” Her captor’s dark gaze was inscrutable as he stopped next to her. “Don’t go there, angel. I can’t tell you what you want to know without violating the mandate.”

Her heart lurched. “So you did do something?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He clasped her shoulders, stopping her from backing away. “What happened was a natural outcome of our coupling and nothing for you to be concerned about. You weren’t harmed in any way.”

Emily’s pulse was pounding in her temples. Her dress was sleeveless, and his palms were strong and hot on her bare skin—as hot as the vague sensations that were all that was left of her memories. “Not harmed?” she said caustically, her body’s uncontrolled reaction to his touch adding to her anxiety. “Scrambling my brains to the point that I lose a day and a half doesn’t constitute harm in your book?”

Zaron’s nostrils flared. “You enjoyed yourself during that time too.”

“Did I? And how do I know that when I can’t remember?”

“You can trust me,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Or I can show you—and this time, you’ll remember everything.”

“No, don’t.” Emily twisted out of his grasp and took a step back. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her claustrophobia intensifying with each moment. She needed to leave the confines of these walls before she lost her remaining shreds of sanity. “Please. You said you’d take me outside.”

Comprehension filled his gaze. “Yes, of course. Come. We’ll go for a walk.”

Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he led her outside through a dissolving wall—a technological wonder that no longer fazed Emily. Actually, at this moment, a spaceship could’ve materialized in front of her, and she wouldn’t have blinked.

All that mattered was getting outside.

The moment Emily felt the warm breeze on her skin, the tight band around her throat began to loosen. Sucking in a lungful of fresh air, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the sun dance across her face. With Zaron holding her arm, she wasn’t free here any more than she was inside his cave, but it felt different.

She felt different.

“Better?” Zaron asked when she opened her eyes, and Emily nodded. The suffocating sensation was gone, and with it, some of her anger and fear. She was also thinking more clearly. If Zaron hadn’t lied about her memory loss being a “natural” result of their coupling, then she could see only one solution to the problem.

They couldn’t have sex again.

Zaron wouldn’t like that, but he’d have to accept it—at least until she found a way to return home.

By the time they’d been walking for several minutes, Emily’s stark pallor faded, the pinched look leaving her face. If Zaron had needed any further confirmation that she wasn’t faking her claustrophobia, he’d just gotten it.

His captive/guest genuinely couldn’t tolerate being indoors for long.

“Have you ever tried seeing a doctor about this?” Zaron asked when they entered a sunlit meadow. At their approach, a pair of Ateles geoffroyi—Costa Rican spider monkeys—darted away from a fallen log, scrambling up the tree trunks. Emily jumped, clearly startled, but then a wide smile broke across her face and she ran up to the trees to watch the monkeys jumping across the branches. Zaron followed, smiling at her unabashed enjoyment.

“I love Costa Rica,” she said, turning back to face him when the monkeys were gone. “The nature here is absolutely fascinating.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Zaron felt oddly pleased that she shared some of his interests. “Earth has some truly amazing creatures.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Emily asked. “Because you’re interested in the Earth fauna?”

His smile faded. “In part, yes.” He didn’t want to think about his main reason for coming to Earth, but it was too late. Images of Larita as he saw her last slid through his mind, bringing with them the sharp sting of grief. They’d argued the day before her departure over something stupid, like where they should vacation next year, but on the morning Larita was supposed to leave for her expedition, they’d made up. Only she’d been in a rush, and they’d had to settle for a quickie. It was one of Zaron’s greatest regrets: that he hadn’t woken up earlier that morning and held his mate longer, that he hadn’t tried to imprint every detail about her on his mind. It had only been eight years since Larita’s death, yet he sometimes found himself unable to recall the exact hue of her hazel eyes or the precise taste of her lips. With every day that passed, his mate slipped further away from him, and it hurt, even as he tried to run from the memories, to distance himself from everything that reminded him of what he’d lost.

“Oh, I see,” Emily said quietly, and he realized she understood. Her turquoise gaze held sympathy and a certain gentle warmth. Maybe it was because she’d known loss too, but he didn’t mind this from her. He knew very few Krinar who’d lived through any kind of real tragedy. There was no disease in their society, no aging. No death outside of the Arena challenges and freak accidents like the one that had befallen Larita. To his friends, family, and colleagues, Zaron’s grief was something foreign, and they didn’t know how to cope with it, how to approach him after Larita’s death.

But this human girl knew. She knew and sympathized, and with her, Zaron didn’t feel quite as alone.

“There are some waterfalls nearby,” he said. “Would you like to see them?”

Emily smiled. “Yes, that would be great.”

They walked toward the falls without speaking, and there was something comforting in that also. Over the years, he and Larita had become comfortable enough to just be together, to enjoy each other’s company without needing to fill every moment with chatter. It was odd that he felt similarly comfortable with Emily after knowing her for only a few days, but he did. Something inside him seemed to simultaneously relax and come alive in her presence, as if he was waking up from a tense, unpleasant dream.

“So have you ever sought help for your condition?” he asked again, recalling how tense she had been earlier. “Perhaps talked to any of your mind experts?”

“Mind experts?” She gave him a quizzical look. “Oh, you mean therapists. No, not really. I have it under control for the most part—or at least I do when I can control when I go out.” She gave him a pointed look.

It was a blatant attempt to guilt him, and it worked. Zaron didn’t like the idea that he was the cause of Emily’s discomfort, either physical or mental. This morning, when he’d seen the bruises his fingers had left on her pale skin, he’d felt like the worst kind of monster. Though he’d had sex with human women before, he’d never gotten carried away like that, had never lost control so completely. Emily was so delicate compared to him, so breakable, and he had hurt her. And now it appeared that by holding her captive, he was hurting her too, in a different way.

Fifteen more days, he told himself, pushing away the guilt. He’d make sure she went outside regularly, so her phobia wouldn’t act up, and he’d do his best to be gentle with her. He could now admit to himself that Emily was right: the mandate was just an excuse to keep her a while longer. Neither the Elders nor the Council would care if humans learned of Krinar existence a few days early—not that any legitimate human newspaper would even print Emily’s story without extensive proof.

Zaron was keeping her captive because he wanted her, and for no other reason. It was wrong of him, and selfish, but he didn’t care. For the first time in years, he felt a real connection to someone, and he couldn’t bear to let it slip away.

Not yet, at least.

Reaching over, Zaron took Emily’s hand, ignoring the puzzled glance she gave him. Her fingers were small and slender in his grasp, her skin soft and warm. Her hand was stiff at first, but as they continued walking, Emily relaxed and her fingers curled around his palm. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It was what he needed at this moment: some kind of acknowledgement that she didn’t hate him, that the strange bond between them wasn’t one-sided.

Before long, they were at the falls. It was another mountain stream that had become a river as a result of the recent rains. In this specific spot, the ground dropped away sharply, forming a cliff, and the turbulent water streamed down in two sizable waterfalls. Water spray filled the air, and in a few spots where sunlight penetrated the thick canopy of the trees, Zaron could see the light being refracted in a beautiful phenomenon known as the rainbow.

“This is amazing,” Emily breathed as soon as the falls came into view. Pulling her hand out of his grasp, she ran up to the edge of the river and spun in a circle, laughing as the water droplets fell on her head and shoulders. The tiny blond hairs around her face curled from the moisture, creating a halo of sorts. With the light-colored dress she was wearing, she looked impossibly angelic—and so sexy Zaron’s body hardened in an instant.

Closing the distance between them with a few long strides, he pulled her against his aroused body and bent his head, muffling her startled gasp with his lips. She tasted warm and sweet, her lips parting under the pressure of his kiss, and he swept his tongue into her mouth, needing more of her unique flavor. His hands slid down her back and gripped her buttocks, pulling her closer, and he felt her nipples harden against his chest as her body softened and melted in his hold.

Then, abruptly, she was fighting him. Her body went stiff, her hands pushing at his shoulders as she tried to twist away. “Stop, please,” she gasped, and Zaron instantly released her, afraid he’d hurt her again. The need to possess her was overwhelming, but he was determined to keep the promise he’d made to himself.

“What happened?” he asked, forcing himself to take a step back. Even to his own ears, his voice was rough, thick with desire. “Are you okay?”

Emily nodded, her chest falling and rising with rapid breathing. “Yes, I’m just…” She took a couple of steps back, putting more distance between them. “Zaron, we can’t do this.”

“What?” His eyebrows snapped together. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to lose my mind,” she said, raising her chin. “I don’t know what happened yesterday, but if memory loss is a natural outcome of sex with you—”

“It’s not.” Zaron drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to be, at least. What happened yesterday doesn’t have to happen every time—or at all, if you don’t want it.” As much as he hated the idea of not being able to taste Emily’s blood again, he could abstain from it. It might even be a good idea, given the uncertain parameters of the addiction Ellet had warned him about. “We could just have regular sex, like at the lake yesterday,” he said. “You remember everything about that, right?”

Emily blinked at him. “Yes, but—”

“Then there’s no problem.” Zaron stepped toward her, and before she could come up with another objection, he lifted her against him and slanted his mouth across her lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

At dinner, Emily had to fight a blush every time she thought of their outing to the falls. As her captor had promised, she’d been fully aware of everything they’d done—and they’d done plenty. Even now, her sex felt swollen and her clit pulsed with the aftershocks of all the orgasms Zaron had given her. He’d taken her on the grass, up against a tree, and in the river beneath the waterfalls, with the chilly mountain current cooling off their overheated bodies. They’d been there for hours, and by the end, Emily had been so exhausted that Zaron had to carry her home.

Now, after a nap, she was feeling much more refreshed, but she knew Zaron would want more sex soon. It was there in the way he was watching her, his dark eyes following every bite of food that traveled to her mouth, in the sexual tension that simmered in the air even as they discussed innocuous topics like recent movies—some of which Zaron had seen—and Emily’s cat George.

“I adopted him from a shelter when he was a kitten,” she told Zaron as they were wrapping up the meal. “My friend Amber dragged me there when I first moved to the city. She wanted a puppy, and she convinced me to go with her. I was sure I didn’t want a pet—I work insane hours and can barely take care of myself—but there was George, and I fell in love.”

“With the cat?” Zaron looked confused.

Emily nodded. “He was a kitten at the time, but yes. He was just so sweet and little, and he cuddled up against me, purring… I’m guessing you guys don’t have cats?”

“No. We don’t keep pets in general.”

“Really? Why not?”

Zaron shrugged. “It never occurred to us to domesticate animals. We like to observe them in their natural environments, not confined to our dwellings.”

“I see. But you have no problem confining humans to your dwellings?” The moment the words came out of her mouth, Emily wanted to take them back, but it was too late. Zaron’s jaw tightened, adversarial tension replacing the companionable atmosphere that had prevailed throughout the meal.

Rising to his feet in one sleek motion, he stepped around the floating table and reached down to pull Emily up off her seat. His hands were impossibly strong as he held her upper arms, his eyes pitch black. He was angry; she could sense it. Her breathing quickened, her pulse leaping with anxiety, but he just released her arms and stepped back.

“Would you like to email your friend?” His voice was even. “The one who’s taking care of your cat?”

“Oh.” Emily felt completely off-kilter. “Yes, of course.” She’d planned to ask Zaron about that later this evening—another reason why she’d regretted antagonizing him—but he was a step ahead of her. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, then.” He murmured something in Krinar, and the wall opened to let another thin tablet float out. Zaron snatched it from mid-air and handed it to Emily. “Here you go. You can just say your message, and it will be sent to your friend via your Gmail.”

Emily frowned, glancing down at the tablet before looking up at Zaron again. “But how do I know that it’ll go through? Are you saying that you have access to my email account?”

“Of course.” Zaron’s gaze was unblinking. “You don’t think your passwords and firewalls can protect you from our technology, do you?”

Emily’s stomach flipped. “No, I guess not.” Given what she’d seen so far, their computers had to be unimaginably advanced; hacking her email probably took Zaron less than a nanosecond. Hell, hacking the Pentagon would probably be child’s play for the Krinar. Then an even more disturbing thought occurred to her.

Would any of Earth’s military defenses hold if the Krinar were coming with anything but the friendliest of intentions?

“Zaron…” Emily’s voice shook a little. “You said your people are just coming to say hello, right? They don’t want anything else, do they?”

His beautiful face turned expressionless. “Such as?”

“I don’t know.” Now that the dark seeds of suspicion were in her mind, they were multiplying uncontrollably. “Resources? Land? Cheap labor? Whatever it is that people always want when they explore new places.”

Zaron’s hesitation was so brief she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been so attuned to him. “We don’t intend your people any harm,” he said, and Emily’s insides turned cold as she realized he hadn’t explicitly denied any of the possibilities she’d listed. Her imagination went wild, every alien invasion movie she’d ever seen flashing through her mind. Zaron had never really said why his people were coming, or rather, she hadn’t truly pried. Between learning about the Krinar and nonstop sex with her captor, she’d been too overwhelmed to think about the bigger picture. When Zaron had first told her his people were arriving soon, it hadn’t seemed illogical to her that the Krinar might want to introduce themselves to an intelligent species that looked exactly like them and that they’d supposedly created. Now that she was thinking about it, however, her unquestioning acceptance of his initial explanation seemed naïve.

If all the Krinar wanted was to reveal their existence to the human race, they could’ve sent a message. They didn’t have to fly to Earth in person. In fact, something like an introductory video as a heads-up, followed by a visit from a small delegation—some of whom were maybe already on Earth, like Zaron—would’ve made more sense as a friendly overture. But Zaron had said “his people” were due to arrive. That sounded like it was more than a small delegation.

It sounded like an invasion.

No. She couldn’t jump to conclusions like that. Zaron had saved her life, and, temporary captivity aside, he hadn’t mistreated her. The least she could do was find out some more facts before assuming the worst.

“How far is your home planet?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “You never really told me where Krina is.”

Zaron’s expression didn’t change, but she could sense him relaxing subtly. “It’s far,” he said. “In a different galaxy, in fact. I could give you the exact coordinates, but they wouldn’t mean anything to you or any of your people.”

Emily’s breath caught in wonder. “A different galaxy? How is that even possible? You must travel faster than the speed of light.”

“We do. It’s not my area of expertise, but from what I understand, our ships’ warp drive creates an enormous energy bubble that essentially bends space-time. Distance is more or less irrelevant; going to a neighboring solar system takes us about as much time as coming to Earth.”

“I see.” Their technology was even more advanced than she’d thought. Emily wondered if Zaron could hear the heavy thudding of her heart. He was stronger and faster than a normal man. Could his senses be more acute than a human’s, too? There was so much she didn’t know about Zaron and his people, and what she was discovering was far from reassuring. Striving to maintain her casual tone, she asked, “So how many of your people are coming to Earth this time?”

“Why don’t you email your friend?” he said instead of answering. “I have some work to do tonight, and I want to make sure the email goes through without any issues.”

“Of course.” Pushing her disappointment away, Emily forced a bright smile to her lips. “So I just speak to the tablet, and it’ll know what to do and where to send the email?”

“Yes, exactly. Go ahead.” He folded his arms across his chest, and her heartbeat sped up further when she realized he wasn’t going to give her any privacy for this.

“Okay,” she said, hoping he couldn’t detect how sweaty her palms had become. “How about this? ‘Hey, Amber. So sorry I didn’t email you before, but I got delayed here in Costa Rica. I’ll explain more when I get home, but in the meanwhile, would you mind keeping George for a few more days? Thanks in advance!’”

“For two more weeks,” Zaron corrected, and Emily saw the text—with his correction—briefly appear on the tablet screen in front of her. Then her Gmail flashed on the screen, showing the sent message, and the tablet went blank again.

“Good job,” Zaron said, taking the tablet from her, and Emily watched as the object disappeared back into the wall. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to jump into a virtual meeting. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Bending down, he brushed his lips across hers in a brief kiss and disappeared through an opening in the wall, leaving Emily alone with her suspicions.

Zaron worked all evening. By the time he came out of his study, Emily was half-asleep. He made love to her for a couple of hours, exhausting her further, and it wasn’t until the next afternoon, when they went on their walk, that she had a chance to interrogate him again. At that point, Zaron knew he had to tell her something, and he opted for the truth.

It might upset Emily and make the next two weeks less pleasant than they could’ve been, but he didn’t want to lie to her.

“So how many of your people are coming?” she asked as they were walking toward the lake. “Is it a big delegation?”

Emily’s tone was calm, almost disinterested, but Zaron wasn’t fooled. His human guest was smart. Once she got over the shock of meeting him and learning about the Krinar, it didn’t take her long to start questioning everything.

Sighing, he answered, “About fifty thousand. But, Emily—”

“Fifty thousand?” She stopped under an Enterolobium cyclocarpum, the guanacaste tree, all color leaching from her face as she gaped at him. “Fifty thousand of your people are coming to Earth in two weeks?”

“Yes. But we don’t intend your people any harm, I promise.”

“What do you intend then? You’re not just coming to introduce yourselves, are you?”

“No, not exactly,” Zaron admitted. “We’re also going to be settling here.”

“Settling?” Emily’s voice rose. “Settling where?”

“In ten different locations around Earth,” Zaron said, wondering how much he could disclose. He decided to err on the side of caution. “We’re still choosing them right now.”

“Oh my God.” Emily took a step back, her hand pressed to her mouth. “You want to colonize our planet, steal it from—”

“Emily, stop.” Zaron caught her in two long strides and gently pulled her hand down, away from her trembling lips. “It’s not like that at all. Yes, we’re going to establish some settlements here, but we’re not stealing your planet. Your people will continue to live in their cities and govern themselves as they always have. Your lives won’t change much. We’re just going to be your neighbors, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” In the shade of the guanacaste tree, Emily’s eyes were almost completely green as she stared up at him, and he could feel the pulse beating rapidly in her slender wrist. “How stupid do you think I am? You’re going to do to us what more advanced civilizations have always done to the natives, and—”

“No, we won’t,” Zaron said. He wasn’t privy to the Council’s longer-term plans for Earth, but he was fairly sure they didn’t have any nefarious intentions for humans. What would be the point? In a way, humans were children of the Krinar, or at least their creations.

Stroking his thumb across the inside of Emily’s wrist, he said, “If we wanted to hurt you or take your planet away from you, we could’ve done so at any point during your evolution. We didn’t need to wait until you had nuclear weapons and satellites; we could’ve come when you were still in the Stone Age. That was practically yesterday for us. But we didn’t do that because that’s not what we’re after.”

Emily didn’t look reassured. “Then what are you after? What do you want from us? Why do you want to settle here?”

“Well, for one thing, our solar system is older than yours.” Zaron released Emily’s wrist, noting with pleasure that she didn’t immediately back away. “In another hundred million years or so, our sun is going to die, and if we’re still there when it happens, we’ll perish along with it. I know that’s still fairly far in the future—probably an eternity for a species as young as yours—but it’s something we have to be cognizant of. Coming here is a diversification strategy for us, a way to ensure our survival beyond the natural lifespan of our solar system.”

“So because your planet is old, you want to take ours?”

Zaron sighed again. She wasn’t listening. “Not take it, share it,” he said patiently. “All we’re talking about at this point are fifty thousand of us, a drop in the bucket compared to the human population of Earth.”

“Maybe, but I’m guessing our missiles are like toy guns compared to whatever weapons you have.” Her eyes held his in a silent challenge. “Aren’t they?”

“Yes—but that’s only a consideration if you decide to use those missiles against us,” Zaron said. “Like I told you, we don’t intend your people any harm.”

Emily turned away and took a couple of steps toward a tall Cyathea arborea, then spun around to face him again. “So how do you plan to do this? I don’t see our governments letting you settle here without a fight. You can’t just expect to waltz in here and say, ‘Hey, give us some land,’ and have it magically happen.”

“I’m sure the Council has considered that and has a plan for just such an eventuality,” Zaron said. “I’m not on the Council, so—”

“What is your role, then? Why are you here? You said you’re a biologist.”

“I am, and a soil specialist as well.” Zaron had hoped she wouldn’t go there, but he didn’t want to lie about this, either. “My role is to choose the appropriate locations for our settlements—sparsely populated areas with suitable climate and soil.”

Emily stared at him. “I see.”

She turned away again, and Zaron could sense the barriers she was putting up between them. Her slim back was rigid, her shoulders bunched with tension. She didn’t believe him, didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t blame her. His people were invading her planet. The Krinar might’ve planted life here, but Earth had been home to humans for as long as her species had existed, and now the Krinar were planning to settle here. Had the situation been reversed, his people would’ve been livid—and there was every reason to think the humans would be too.

“Emily.” Stepping toward her, Zaron gently grasped her arm and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry if this upset you, but I didn’t want to lie to you.”

She gazed up at him, her face still colorless. “Is there any way you could talk to your Council, try to convince them not to do this? You have a perfectly good planet for another hundred million years—you don’t need ours.”

“Emily…” He knew she understood the impossibility of her request; her tone was dull, resigned. Still, his chest felt heavy as he said, “I’m sorry, I can’t. Everything’s already been decided, and the ships are on their way.”

Her lips quivered for a moment before flattening into a firm line. “Okay. I understand. Now, please, let go of me.”

Zaron glanced down and realized he was still holding her, his fingers wrapped around her upper arm. A pulse of anger shot through him as he realized that she intended to treat him as an enemy, ignoring everything that had passed between them. “No,” he said, gripping her other arm and pulling her closer. “I’m not letting go of you. This doesn’t change anything, angel. You’re mine for the next two weeks.”

Emily’s mouth opened—undoubtedly to protest his highhandedness—but he was already bending his head to kiss her.

She tasted soft and sweet, even as she tried to twist away, her hands rising up to push at his biceps. “Don’t,” she managed to gasp out before Zaron recaptured her lips, and his body hardened as he deepened the kiss and felt the heat rising off her skin. She was getting turned on, the scent of her arousal inflaming his senses, and her struggles were lessening with each moment.

She still wanted him, and Zaron intended to capitalize on that.

Continuing to kiss her, he lowered her to the ground, stretching her out on the hard blanket of leaves and grass. Clasping her wrists, he pinned her arms above her head with one hand, then slid his free hand down her body and pulled up the skirt of her dress, using his knees to part her legs. She was open to him now, her sex warm and slick as he delved into her folds, and his cock throbbed, aching to be inside her.

Tearing his mouth away, Zaron lifted his head and stared down at the human girl, remembering the first time he’d had her like this. She’d wanted him then too, but she’d been scared and he’d let her go.

He wasn’t going to let her go now.

Emily’s bright eyes were glazed as she stared up at him, her lips swollen and glistening from his kisses. Blond hair lay in a tangle of pale waves around her face, and a flush brightened her creamy cheeks as his fingers played with her clit. She was too far gone to stop him now, and the primitive, savage part of him reveled in that.

He wanted her exactly like this: dazed with pleasure and helpless to deny him.

“That’s it, angel,” he murmured, hearing her breathing quicken as he pushed two fingers into her tight channel and rolled his thumb across her clit. “Let go. Let go and come for me.”

Her eyes drifted closed, and a soft, choked cry escaped her throat as her inner walls spasmed, clenching around his fingers. She was so wet now that his fingers glided in and out with no resistance, and he fucked her straight through the orgasm, his balls drawing closer to his body with each thrust of his fingers. If he hadn’t spent half the night buried inside her body, he would’ve lost control by now, but as it was, Zaron could hang on—barely.

When she lay spent and panting underneath him, he tore open his jeans, finally freeing his aching cock. “Emily,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing against her soft opening. “Look at me, angel.”

Her eyelids rose, long lashes sweeping up slowly, and an odd warmth glowed in his chest as her eyes locked on his face. “This, here, has nothing to do with what’s going on out there,” he said, his voice low and thick. “You and I, we’re not enemies, no matter what happens. Do you understand? For the next two weeks, you’re here with me, and that’s all that matters.”

Emily didn’t say anything, but her gaze was tormented, and Zaron knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She would fight him. Maybe not at this moment, but she would fight him, just as her people would fight the Krinar when they arrived.

Anger surged through Zaron again, mixing with the burning lust, and he pushed deep into Emily’s body, penetrating her all the way without slowing. She cried out—a pained cry, he registered vaguely—but he couldn’t stop, driven by a hunger that seemed to come from some dark place inside him. She was slick and tight around him, her body clasping him with soft, wet heat, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, everything inside him centering on one need only: to take her, to possess her, to make her his.

Before long, she was meeting him thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take him in deeper. He could hear her gasping cries and moans, and the need to take her blood, to taste her that way too, was as potent as the lust boiling in his veins. He was already lowering his head when Ellet’s warning blipped somewhere in the back of his mind, and instead of slicing his teeth across Emily’s tender skin, he turned his head away and increased his pace, hammering into her with each stroke. Her cries were growing louder, more frantic, her wrists tensing in his grasp, and Zaron felt the ripples of her orgasm as she came, her inner muscles tightening around him. He wanted to hold on, to draw out the ecstasy of possessing her, but the convulsive clenching of her body sent him over the edge. A harsh groan tore from him as he thrust deep one last time, and then he was coming, his seed jetting into her in several long bursts.

Gasping for air, he rolled off Emily and gathered her against him, his thoughts scattered as he held her from the back. She was breathing heavily too, her slim body shaking and her skin damp with sweat. Closing his eyes, Zaron tightened his hold on her and buried his head in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent.

There was only one word circling through his brain, only one thought he could formulate.

Mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Over the next several days, Emily had so much sex she felt like she was drowning in pleasure. Zaron was insatiable and had inhuman stamina, which meant that by the time he was done with her, she was exhausted and on the verge of passing out. If it hadn’t been for his handy healing devices, she would’ve been constantly sore.

“God, are your people always like this?” she mumbled when he woke her up by sliding into her from the back, his thick cock invading her for the third time that night. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Not of you,” he breathed in her ear, his hand moving down her stomach to find the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. “Not of this. I could fuck you for an eternity.”

Emily didn’t know about an eternity, but he certainly took her every chance he got, and then some. She suspected that nonstop sex was Zaron’s way of distracting her from his horrifying revelations, and most of the time, the strategy worked. When she was in his arms, she couldn’t think, much less worry about the upcoming invasion of her planet. The moment he left her alone, however, her stomach would churn with anxiety, and their conversations at mealtimes were frequently tense and adversarial.

“There will be war—interplanetary war. Don’t you understand that?” Emily burst out when Zaron tried to convince her at lunch that she had nothing to worry about. “Your people will come, and there will be war.”

“No, there won’t be,” he said with calm certainty. “Some resistance, maybe, but not war.”

“No? You think we’re just going to roll over and—”

“Emily.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “There won’t be war because we won’t let it come to that. You were right: all your weapons are like children’s toys to us. Would there be war if the United States army came to a kindergarten? No. Your soldiers would just do what they wanted, and that’s it. And it will be the same with us.”

Emily gaped at him in horror. “Are you even listening to yourself? You think it’s somehow better that your people will subjugate us without a fight?”

“Of course it is.” Zaron patted her hand before resuming eating. “No war is always better than war.”

For the rest of the meal, Emily refused to speak to him, doing her best to give him the cold shoulder, but when he took her for a walk afterwards, they again ended up having sex in the forest. Emily hated herself for that, for her inability to resist his touch, but her body kept betraying her. The moment Zaron touched her, she melted into a puddle of need, and her captor knew it and took ruthless advantage of the situation.

“Don’t you realize how wrong this is?” she asked when she lay in his arms that evening, her body humming with satiation but her thoughts full of self-loathing. “What you’re doing to me is really messed up.”

Zaron turned her over to face him, his black eyes unreadable in the dim light illuminating the room. “It’s only wrong if you don’t want me, but you do.” His voice was low and deep, enveloping her in a warm, seductive cocoon. “You want me just was much as I want you, angel, so let’s not pretend and make this anything other than what it is.”

“And what is that?” Emily whispered, her chest tight. “How do you see this? Because from where I stand, you’re keeping me captive and your people are about to invade my planet. And yet you’re—” She stopped at the rapidly darkening expression on his face.

“I’m what?” His hand slid down her side. “Touching you?” His fingers squeezed her ass cheek as he pulled her closer to him. “Fucking you?”

Emily caught her breath as his erection pressed against her thigh, as hard as if it had been days, not minutes, since he’d been inside her. “Yes, exactly,” she managed to say, pushing at his muscled chest. “I’m not a sex doll for you to—”

“You’re what I want you to be.” He lifted her leg and pushed into her, wringing a startled gasp from her throat. She was still sensitive and swollen from the previous time, and he felt enormous inside her, his cock stretching her tender inner walls. “My sex doll, my sex everything. I can’t get enough of you, angel. And for now, I don’t have to—because you’re mine. Aren’t you?”

He rolled his hips, hitting her G-spot, and Emily’s body tightened, clenching around him on a surge of need. She tried to cling to her anger, to think past her growing arousal, but he was already kissing her, his big hands kneading her breasts as he set a hard, driving pace, and for the rest of the night, there was no more talk of right and wrong.

There was just Zaron and the dark heat blanketing them both.

On Thursday morning, two hours before her hedge fund interview was scheduled to take place, Emily woke up to find herself alone in her comfortable alien bed. The intelligent material had shaped itself to her body while she slept, and she felt it massaging her neck and shoulders—a feature Zaron had enabled after learning that Emily’s back muscles were often tight from tension. She lay still for a few minutes, enjoying the bed’s ministrations, and then she got up. Despite sleeping fairly late, she felt tired and listless, almost depressed.

On Tuesday, Zaron had allowed her to send an email to Evers Capital explaining that she’d gotten delayed in Costa Rica by two weeks and asking to reschedule her interview. By Wednesday evening, they still hadn’t responded, and Emily knew that this was it: she’d blown her one chance to work with a hedge fund legend—not to mention, have a job in her field any time soon. With all the recent layoffs, Wall Street was drowning in analysts with her skill set, and everyone was competing for a rapidly shrinking pool of jobs.

If the upcoming Krinar invasion didn’t end the world as Emily knew it, she’d be unemployed for much longer than she’d hoped.

The thought brought her back to her senses. It was silly to worry about a missed interview when her entire species was facing a threat as serious as the Krinar. Over the last few days, Emily had tried to find out more about Zaron’s people, and what she’d learned wasn’t reassuring.

She’d already known her captor was stronger and faster than a human man, but she’d ascribed some of that to his tall, athletic frame. His body was magnificent, his sleekly bronzed skin covering layers of lean, hard-packed muscle. Any man of his build would’ve been stronger than average, and Emily hadn’t realized the full extent of Zaron’s differences until their walk two days earlier, when she’d seen him lift a fallen tree with one hand and move it off their path.

He’d done it casually, as if the thick trunk was a tiny branch, and Emily had stopped, gaping at him in disbelief. By her estimation, that tree was at least a foot and a half in diameter.

“What’s wrong?” he’d asked, but she’d just shaken her head, struck mute by shock. Walking over to the tree, she’d crouched and pushed at it with all her strength, hoping it was somehow lighter than it looked, but the trunk hadn’t budged even a fraction of an inch. The tree was so heavy it was practically welded to the ground, yet Zaron had moved it with no more effort than Emily would exert to lift a two-pound weight.

Her captor had observed her efforts with obvious amusement, his beautiful lips curved in a smile, and Emily had felt a cold trickle of fear as she recalled how fast he’d caught her that time at the lake.

The Krinar didn’t just have superior technology; they were more powerful in every way.

“How did you evolve to be so fast and strong?” she’d asked when they’d resumed walking, and he’d shrugged, stonewalling her. She’d noticed that while Zaron seemed hesitant to lie to her outright, he had no problem withholding information when it suited his purposes. There were certain topics he preferred to avoid, and Emily suspected it had to do with things he thought might scare her. Whenever she tried to ask him about the types of weapons his people possessed or what they were going to do once they settled on Earth, he directed the conversation elsewhere or distracted her with sex—and it seemed like the topic of Krinar evolution was one that was also off limits.

It was the same when she’d noticed that all her meals at Zaron’s house consisted of fruits, vegetables, and other plant-based foods. At first, she’d thought it had to do with his profession—he loved plants and was always telling her interesting tidbits about Costa Rican flora—but then she’d begun to wonder if there was another reason for his diet.

“Why don’t you eat any meat?” she’d asked, munching on a salad his house had prepared for their dinner. “Is that your personal dietary preference or a general trait of the Krinar?”

“The latter,” Zaron had said. “Like humans, we’re omnivorous, but we prefer plants. On Krina, many plants are rich in nutrients and dense in calories, so we’ve never needed to eat animals to survive.”

“Oh, I see.” That had surprised Emily. For some reason, she’d assumed that the Krinar had been hunters and gatherers at some point, similar to primitive humans. And then she’d realized why she’d made that assumption.

There was something predatory in the grace with which Zaron moved, something that kept reminding her of a feline hunter. She had the disquieting impression that if provoked, he could pounce in an instant. His gaze, too, was sharp and clear, often tracking her movements with the intensity of a cat stalking a butterfly.

“Are there a lot of large predators on your planet?” she’d asked. Maybe the Krinar had been prey at some point in their early history and had to develop their speed and strength to survive—though that still didn’t explain Zaron’s unusual way of moving.

“A few,” he’d answered without elaborating, and Emily had known he was stonewalling her again.

Whatever Zaron was hiding had to be worse than his people’s colonization plans—and that made Emily very, very nervous.

Still, as she was showering, her thoughts kept returning to the interview she’d missed and the job that was now out of her reach. Every day, she kept an eye out for an opportunity to escape, but Zaron watched her carefully during their walks, and there was no way she could get out of his intelligent house. And now it was too late: Evers Capital would never hire her.

Sighing, Emily stepped out of the shower and let the Krinar technology dry her. Putting on one of the dresses Zaron had left for her, she headed back to the bedroom, where her drowned phone lay on the floating plank next to her bed.

Sitting down, Emily picked it up. It felt dry, but the screen was dark and unresponsive. Automatically, she pressed the button on the side and held it, watching the screen without much hope.

The screen lit up.

Emily jumped up, her heart hammering, and stared at the screen in disbelief. The familiar icons loaded with agonizing slowness, but the phone was unmistakably alive.

Emily’s hand shook as she swiped across the screen to unlock the phone. She’d paid for a roaming package before embarking on the trip, but there was only one bar of reception showing—likely because they were inside a cave. Not that the number of bars mattered: the battery was nearly depleted. At best, she had only a few minutes before the phone died, and she had to make them count.

Whom could she call? Her friends back home? The Costa Rican police? Emily had prudently programmed a few emergency numbers into her phone before leaving the US, and she flipped through them now, her mind racing. She dismissed the idea of calling friends right away; there was no guarantee any of them would pick up, and it would take too long to explain her situation and ask them to send help. With the local police, there would be a language barrier. Emily knew basic Spanish, but there was no way she could convey everything and make herself understood.

The best option was the American embassy, she decided after a moment. Odds were high they’d dismiss her as a nutcase, but if she could get through to them somehow, her warning could make a real difference.

Holding her breath, Emily pressed the call button and held the phone up to her ear. One second, two, three, four… The silence seemed to stretch forever, but just as Emily became convinced the call wouldn’t go through, she heard the long beep of connection.

“United States Embassy.” The female voice was pleasant and calm. “How may I direct your call?”

Emily’s knees went weak with relief. “Yes, hi. My name is Emily Ross, and I’m an American citizen.” She spoke quickly, not knowing when the battery would die. “I’m being held captive in the Guanacaste region. I need you to listen to me carefully. The man holding me here has told me that there is a threat to our country. An invasion will happen in a matter of days. The people who are coming call themselves the Krinar, and they have weapons that are far more advanced than ours. You have to warn the President. I know this sounds crazy, but—”

The quiet hum of background noise against her ear turned to silence, and Emily realized it was over.

Her phone was completely dead.

Lowering the device, she stared at the dark screen in frustration. Had the operator heard anything Emily had said, and if she had, would she pass along the message or dismiss it as the ramblings of a drunk tourist? Emily had purposefully avoided the word “alien,” but what she had said was not much better. Even to her own ears, she’d sounded like a lunatic.

Emily’s palms were damp and her legs shaky as she put the phone back on the floating plank and sat down on the bed. She was still buzzing with adrenaline, and it took several minutes before she calmed down enough to reach for the tablet Zaron had given her. Whatever happened next was out of her hands. Either the operator would convey her message, or she wouldn’t. Emily had to be content with the knowledge that she’d done the best she could.

Taking a deep breath, she told the tablet, “Independence Day, please,” and scooted back on the bed. The intelligent furniture immediately curved around her, intuiting that she wanted back support for her movie-watching experience.

Emily’s choice of entertainment was masochistic, but she didn’t care.

Maybe if she saw humans kicking some alien ass on screen, she’d believe Earth stood a chance against the real thing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

As the days flew by, Zaron began to dread the ships’ arrival. It wasn’t because his team wasn’t ready—everything was in place on their end—but because every hour that ticked by brought him closer to the day when he’d have to let Emily go.

Once the Krinar made contact with the human leaders, he’d no longer be able to use the non-disclosure mandate as justification for keeping her.

Ever since Zaron had told Emily about his people’s true intentions, she’d done her best to keep him at a distance—emotionally, at least. There was no more talk about her past, no more sharing of painful experiences. But little by little, Zaron learned more about her, and every new tidbit he uncovered intensified his fascination with the human girl—a fascination that was beginning to border on obsession.

She liked strawberries but hated blueberries, enjoyed sci-fi movies but preferred to read nonfiction books. Her mind was sharply analytical—she was at home with numbers and spreadsheets—but she needed nature and the outdoors to feel complete.

“Whenever I have some free time—which is pretty much never—I like to go to the park,” she confided as they sat by the lake, for once talking without arguing. “It energizes me, helps me rest my brain and shake off all the cubicle cobwebs.”

Zaron understood that; his enjoyment of the natural environment was a key reason for his choice of specialization. Even as a child, he’d been fascinated with living things, both plants and animals. However, something about what Emily had said bothered him. “Why do you have so little free time?” he asked, frowning. “Don’t most humans work nine to five?”

“Not the investment banking humans,” she said wryly. “My breed works eighty-hour weeks, and that’s when our workload is light. On one project last year, I had to work a hundred and forty hours a week for three months straight.”

Zaron did some quick mental math. If she was working a hundred and forty hours a week, then she had only four hours a day when she wasn’t working—less than half the daily sleep requirement for humans. He could work that much because the Krinar needed significantly less sleep, but Emily’s health could suffer from that kind of pace.

“You shouldn’t have put in those hours,” he said, unable to keep the censure out of his voice. “You could get sick if you don’t get enough sleep.”

Emily gave him a puzzled look, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t plan to do it forever, just until I could get a similar job with better hours—which the job at that hedge fund would’ve been, by the way.”

Zaron felt an unwelcome pang of guilt at the reminder that he’d cost her the job she’d wanted so desperately. It was only as he’d gotten to know Emily better that he’d understood why that interview had been such a big deal for her. The human girl was fiercely independent, and she’d achieved a great deal in her twenty-four years despite having a rough start in life. From Zaron’s initial background check on her, he’d known that she’d graduated from Northwestern, one of the highest-ranked US colleges, and gotten a job with a major investment bank right after graduation. However, it wasn’t until two days ago, when Zaron had read up on the institution of foster homes, that he’d realized how difficult Emily’s path must’ve been without any family to support her.

“Who paid for your college?” he asked, his frown deepening as the question occurred to him. “Those institutions are expensive in your country, I believe.”

Emily nodded. “They are. I got lucky: I ran track and cross country, so I was offered a scholarship that covered the majority of my tuition. For the rest, I used a combination of government grants, part-time jobs, and loans.”

“Your aunt didn’t help you?”

Emily’s eyebrows rose. “Aunt Wendy? No. She passed away from a stroke when I was seventeen, and for several years before that, she’d lived off a disability pension. She couldn’t have helped me even if she’d wanted to.”

“I see.” Zaron struggled to keep his tone level. He felt angry on her behalf, and he didn’t know why. “So you have no one you can turn to.”

Emily blinked. “That’s not true. I have my friends and my cat and my boyfr—” She stopped mid-word, but it was too late.

Zaron’s anger transformed into white-hot jealousy.

“Boyfriend?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded dangerously low. “You have a boyfriend?” Zaron had assumed Emily was single because she lived alone in a studio and was traveling by herself, but now he realized the folly of that assumption. As independent as Emily was, she could easily have a man waiting for her in New York—a man she hadn’t mentioned until now.

To Zaron’s relief, she shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice tight. “I don’t have one. Not anymore.”

Zaron’s jealousy blazed back to life. It was obvious that whoever this male was, he’d hurt Emily—which meant she’d cared for him.

She might even be in love with him still.

“Who is he?” The rage searing Zaron’s chest was irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t shake off the conviction that Emily belonged to him, that she was his and any man who touched her deserved to be ripped apart. Krinar males tended to be territorial and possessive about their mates, but Emily wasn’t Zaron’s mate. He had no reason to feel so strongly about a human girl who was with him only for the next few days. Still, no amount of rational reasoning could keep the fury out of Zaron’s voice as he demanded, “What is his name?”

Emily gave him a wary look. “What does it matter? It’s over. We broke up over four months ago.”

Four months? Red specks edged Zaron’s vision. A mere four months ago, some puny human had been touching Emily, kissing her… making love to her.

“Who is he? How long were you two together?” Zaron could hear the dark edge in his voice, and he knew Emily could too, because she rose to her feet and took a step to the side, staring at him like he was some kind of feral animal.

Zaron forced himself to take a deep breath. He might’ve felt like said animal, but he didn’t want to scare Emily. Getting up in a slow, controlled motion, he stepped toward her and caught her hand, keeping his grip gentle. “Tell me, angel,” he said in a softer tone. “Tell me about this former boyfriend of yours. What happened between you two?”

Emily looked uneasy. “You… you won’t do anything to him, right?”

Fuck. She was perceptive. The ancient predator within Zaron had already been planning to track down this human male and end his existence. Now he couldn’t—if only because it would upset Emily.

“Of course I won’t do anything to him,” Zaron said with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Why would I?”

The question was directed as much at himself as at Emily, but it had the desired effect. She relaxed slightly, though wariness still lurked in her gaze. “I don’t know,” she said. “You just seemed… angry for a moment.”

Zaron took another deep breath and pulled Emily toward him, molding her slender curves against his body. “I’m not,” he assured her. And he wasn’t—not anymore. The primitive urge rising within him now was quite different in nature.

Sliding his hands into Emily’s silky hair, he bent his head and took her mouth in a deep, voracious kiss.

Zaron didn’t get the answers to his questions until a couple of hours later, when Emily lay tired and replete in his arms. Before they got completely carried away, he’d brought her to a grassy meadow just beyond the rocky shore of the lake, and they rested there now, watching the water sparkle in the sun some fifty feet away.

“So tell me about this mystery ex-boyfriend of yours,” Zaron said, keeping his tone light despite his persistent desire to tear the unknown man into pieces. “How did you two meet?”

“It was in college,” Emily answered without lifting her head off his shoulder. She sounded relaxed and mildly drowsy, and Zaron knew he’d succeeded in getting her mind off his earlier behavior. “Jason and I were friends at first; then he asked me out. We were both Econ majors, had the same circle of friends, and were applying for the same kinds of jobs. It made a lot of sense for us to be together, so we started dating. It was casual at first, just two college kids hanging out, but then we both ended up getting jobs in investment banking after graduation and moving to New York City. To save money, we decided to live together, and so we did—until four months ago, when he told me he couldn’t handle my hours and moved out.”

She spoke calmly, as if the breakup didn’t bother her in the least, but Zaron felt the tension creeping back into her slim frame.

“Why couldn’t he handle your hours?” he asked, keeping his tone even. “Wasn’t he in the same profession as you?”

“He was, but he got lucky. About a year after our graduation, before the market tanked, he got offered a job at a venture capital firm, and his hours improved. So yeah.” Emily glanced up at Zaron. “That was it, the whole story. Very low drama.”

Except it wasn’t, not for her—Zaron could tell that much.

“How many years were you together with this Jason?” he asked, fighting the jealousy that still threatened to consume him. “When in college did you start dating?”

Emily sighed and sat up, straightening her dress—which was now somewhat torn and stained with grass. “We dated for a little over four years,” she said, pushing her tangled hair off her face. “Not a lifetime or anything.”

“I see.” Zaron grabbed his discarded jeans off the grass. Getting up, he pulled them on and bent down to pick up Emily.

“Zaron, put me down! I can walk,” she protested as he swung her up into his arms, but he ignored her objections.

He needed to hold her so he could control the rage boiling within him—and keep his promise about not hunting down the human bastard who had hurt Emily.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

As the day of Krinar arrival and Emily’s promised liberation approached, Emily found herself increasingly anxious. She had no appetite, and her nights were restless, her sleep frequently interrupted by bad dreams. When she was a child, she used to have nightmares about her parents’ car crash, but she’d grown out of that—or so she’d thought. In those dreams, she was always standing on the side of the road, watching as the car flipped over, and her stomach would fill with cold terror at the knowledge that she was alone, that everyone she loved was dead.

Emily told herself the nightmares had returned because she was worried about the invasion, but part of her knew the truth.

It was the upcoming separation from Zaron that made her relive the old pain of loss and abandonment.

“You know, you’ve got to be one of the strongest people I know,” her friend Amber had told Emily after her breakup with Jason. “I don’t know how you do it. Aren’t you ever scared of being alone? You act like it doesn’t matter that your boyfriend of four years just walked away and—”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Emily had interrupted. “I never relied on him for anything.” And it was true. Though the breakup had hurt a lot more than Emily let on, she’d never opened up to Jason fully. They’d lived together and been regarded as a great couple by all their friends, but they’d remained separate individuals, never bonding on a deeper emotional level. Emily used to think she loved him—and maybe she had, in a very tepid and superficial way—but she’d never let him get truly close. It wasn’t because she was brave, however—just the opposite.

She’d been too scared to let herself depend on Jason, to love him for real. That was the true reason for their breakup, not the disparity in work hours that Jason had used as an excuse. Something had always been missing in their relationship, and Emily now knew it had been her fault.

She’d been so afraid of being abandoned she’d kept Jason at a distance until he did exactly that.

But Zaron had somehow gotten through her shell. Emily didn’t know if it was the extraordinary sexual chemistry between them, or the hint of vulnerability she’d glimpsed behind his self-assured, arrogant façade, but she felt closer to Zaron than she’d felt to anyone in her adult life. Her captor scared her at times, but she was also drawn to him, pulled in a way that superseded normal attraction and something as simple as liking and friendship.

When they were together, she felt like her world was illuminated with a warm light, all her senses buzzing with electric awareness. As much as Emily wanted to hate Zaron after learning about the invasion, she couldn’t. They’d gotten too close before that revelation, had opened up to each other too much for her to despise him now. Besides, he’d saved her life, and as much as Emily resented her captivity and feared the future to come, she never forgot that she was only alive because of him.

“Why did you do it?” she asked during a walk one day. “Why did you go to all this trouble to save the life of a stranger? You had to know it would get messy, with the mandate and all.”

Zaron’s jaw stiffened, and his hand tightened around her own. “Because I had to,” he said, and before Emily could pry further, he drew her to him and kissed her with such savage passion she forgot everything but her own name.

And that was the problem. Zaron’s sexual expertise and mastery of her body were such that she was powerless to resist him. Whenever she tried to put up barriers between them, Zaron would storm through them with pathetic ease. She couldn’t give him the cold shoulder because he would just drag her off to bed and pleasure her until she melted, and then, when all her defenses were down, he’d do something sweet, like have his house make one of Emily’s favorite foods or take her on an extra-long walk in the forest. His domineering tendencies were balanced with kindness, his rough-edged sexuality mixed with gentle caring. He consumed her and treated her like spun glass at the same time, and Emily didn’t know how to cope with that.

Still, if their connection had been based solely on sex, it would’ve been easier. But whenever they managed a conversation without arguing, Emily had the unsettling sensation that she’d found her intellectual soulmate. Zaron’s scientific mindset, his dedication to his field, even his tendency to identify common plants and animals by their official genus and species—all of it resonated with Emily, fascinating her to no end. A walk through the forest with Zaron was better than an hour of Discovery Channel; he had an encyclopedia-like knowledge of everything that grew, crawled, walked, and flew in the rainforest, and would often sprinkle in little anecdotes about analogous plants and animals on Krina. He was careful not to say too much—that damnable mandate again—but what Emily did learn was incredible.

“A flying reptile that carries its eggs in a pouch and eats them when it gets hungry? You say these things are common on Krina?” she asked in amazement when Zaron described a creature called eponu. “How does it survive and reproduce?”

“It lays hundreds of eggs,” he answered, smiling. “It only eats about eighty percent of them throughout the incubation period. When the rest hatch, they battle it out in the pouch until a few winners emerge and fly away to feed on insects and other small creatures—until it’s time for those new eponu to reproduce. Once the females lay eggs, the males go back to hunting, and the females use the eggs for sustenance, thus starting the cycle all over again.”

Emily showered him with more questions at that point, and he answered them, apparently deciding that it would do no harm for her to know about some of Krina’s unusual creatures. He also told her a little bit about his childhood and how his family had encouraged his interest in nature from an early age.

“I come from a family of scientists,” he said as a way of explanation. “My mother is a botanist, my father is a physicist, and three of my grandparents are biologists like me. I guess you could say exploring nature is in our blood.” He said it offhandedly, like it was no big deal, and Emily had to battle a familiar surge of envy.

She would’ve given anything to have her parents around to encourage her in her life’s ventures.

“What does your family think about you being here, on Earth, so far away from them?” she asked, trying not to sound as jealous as she felt.

If Emily’s parents and grandparents had been alive, she would’ve never left them to go to a different galaxy.

To her surprise, Zaron’s face tightened. “I don’t know,” he said, stopping next to a lush tree fern. His gaze was inscrutable, but there was a hard undertone in his voice. “I haven’t spoken to them much in the last few years.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Emily could read between the lines. Zaron’s estrangement from his loved ones had to do with his wife’s death; she was almost certain of that. He must’ve found it difficult to be around his family after his tragic loss. Grief could be isolating—Emily knew that better than anyone. For several years after her parents’ deaths, she’d had trouble making friends in school because other kids felt uncomfortable around the orphan. It was as if they were afraid that misfortune was contagious, that by being around her, they might let loss and pain into their own lives. Even some well-meaning teachers had made her feel like an outsider by being solicitous in all the wrong ways, and it was entirely possible that Zaron’s family had done that too, treating him like a broken person to assuage their survivors’ guilt.

Without a word, Emily reached out and squeezed his hand, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. Zaron hadn’t spoken about his wife since that one time, but Emily knew he still grieved for her. She suspected that part of the reason why he made love to Emily so often was because sex was a distraction for him too—a way to cope with his grief and pain. It was nothing he said or did, but every once in a while, she’d catch a look of raw agony on his face, and she knew that at that moment, he was thinking of the wife he’d lost.

Thankfully, in recent days, those moments had become increasingly rare. In fact, most of the time, Zaron seemed focused on Emily to an almost obsessive degree. When they weren’t in bed together, he was constantly questioning her about her life, wanting to know about everything from her favorite foods to her friends to her former boyfriends—though the latter subject did make him oddly tense, as though he was jealous. In general, he seemed possessive of her—far more possessive than Emily considered reasonable under the circumstances.

“Zaron, you do know I’m leaving in a few days, right?” she murmured as they lay in bed one evening, their legs tangled together after another steamy bout of sex. “I’m not yours, no matter what you make me say when I’m on the verge of orgasm. This—you and me—it’s just temporary.”

He pulled back to meet her gaze, and she saw that his jaw was set in a hard line. “I know.” His tone was even, but she could hear the lethal edge behind the words. It reminded her of when he’d questioned her about Jason. For a brief moment during that conversation, she’d had the crazy thought that Zaron might harm her ex-boyfriend. It seemed ridiculous afterwards, but at the time, she’d been convinced that she’d sensed something dark and violent in the man who held her captive—something that had terrified her.

“You are letting me go, right?” Emily asked, doing her best to keep the sudden anxiety out of her voice. “When your people arrive, I can go home.”

Zaron’s expression was unchanging, his eyes completely black as he said, “Yes, of course.” But then he reached for her, pulling her to him, and Emily forgot all about her unease.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The day before the ships’ arrival, Emily woke up particularly depressed. Her nightmares that night had been so bad she’d woken up crying twice. Zaron had been worried that she was sick or in pain, but once she explained that it was just a bad dream, he’d given her exactly what she needed: the comfort of his powerful arms holding her in the dark.

It was that night that Emily faced the truth.

Her fear had come true. She’d fallen for a man from a different planet, a member of a species she still knew very little about.

The realization shook Emily to the core. She couldn’t love Zaron; she simply couldn’t. He was holding her against her will, and his people were planning to invade her planet. What kind of twisted person fell in love under those circumstances? Besides, he wasn’t human. He might look like a man, but he was as different from Emily as she was from her cat. Even their lifespans weren’t compatible. In a few years, Emily would begin aging, but he would remain the same. And then where would they be?

No, stop. Back up. It was ridiculous for Emily to think so long term. Tomorrow she would leave, and that would be it. His strange possessiveness aside, by now Zaron had likely had his fill of sex with her, and he’d move on to someone else, maybe a woman of his own species… someone who could replace the mate he’d lost.

Someone who wasn’t Emily.

Emily’s chest squeezed painfully, her eyes prickling with tears. You don’t love him, she told herself. What she felt had to be an infatuation, a result of their forced proximity. They’d spent so much time together over the last two weeks that it was only natural for her to become attached. Besides, even if she was crazy enough to want to stay, there was no future for them, no chance to be together in any lasting way.

No. Determined not to give in to her illogical feelings, Emily got up and headed to the shower.

Once she got back to her normal life, her attachment to Zaron would fade with time.

She was certain of that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“So where is she, your human girl?” Ellet asked, looking around Zaron’s living room. She was in Costa Rica this week, and had taken Zaron up on his invitation to visit. “You still have her, right?”

“I do. She’s showering right now,” Zaron said, sitting down on a long floating plank. “She just woke up, so you’ll have to wait a bit to meet her.”

“Ah, you’re letting her sleep in. Good.” Ellet walked over to sit down next to him. Like him, she was dressed in human clothes—a pair of shorts, a tight T-shirt, and hiking boots—but to Zaron’s eyes, she looked unmistakably Krinar, with all the sleek dark beauty of their race. Giving him a wide smile, she said, “I was a bit worried that you might be wearing her out. Humans need so much more rest than us, you know.”

Zaron frowned. Ellet had just voiced his own concerns. Emily had been looking rather tired lately—not to mention, sleeping poorly. Was it because of the demands he placed on her human body? “I’m careful,” he said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.

“I’m sure you are,” Ellet said consolingly. “It’s just that it’s easy for our males to get carried away and forget how fragile human women can be.” She paused, then asked delicately, “Did you do it again?”

“Drink her blood? No.” Zaron raised his knee to hide his body’s automatic reaction to the subject. “I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t what?” Emily asked, stepping into the room.

Cursing silently, Zaron got up and turned to face the wall to Emily’s bedroom—a wall that had dissolved soundlessly a moment ago, letting Emily in. Out of habit, he’d been speaking to Ellet in English, and she’d been responding in kind. How much had Emily overheard? The human girl’s face was pale, her hands clenched in the skirt of her dress, but that could be because she was startled to see Ellet.

“Emily, this is my friend and colleague Ellet,” he said with a smile that betrayed nothing of his thoughts. “Ellet, this is Emily, my guest.”

“Hello, Emily.” Ellet rose gracefully to her feet and stepped toward Emily, extending her hand in a human greeting. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Emily hesitated for a millisecond, then shook Ellet’s hand. Zaron noticed that the human girl’s grip was firm, the delicate muscles and tendons in her forearm flexing as she squeezed Ellet’s hand. “Hello,” she said, her lips curving in a bright smile—the same smile she’d often given Zaron when they’d first met. It was Emily’s artificial smile, he now recognized, the one she used to hide her nervousness. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Ellet is a human biology expert,” Zaron explained, watching as Emily stepped back. “Your species is her life’s work.”

“Is that why you came to Earth?” Emily asked. “To study us?”

“Yes—and to assist in the settlement process.” Ellet shot him a quick glance. “Zaron told you about that, I presume?”

“Yes, he did.” Emily gave her that overly bright smile again. “He told me everything.”

“Oh, phew.” Ellet swiped her hand across the top of her head in an exaggerated gesture of relief. “And here I was afraid I’d have to walk on eggshells around you. That’s the correct English expression, right?”

Emily’s smile turned a bit more genuine. Ellet was charming her, Zaron thought with amusement.

“That’s right,” she said to Ellet. “Though I’m sure you know that, since your English is absolutely perfect.”

Ellet grinned. “Why, thank you. Aren’t you sweet? No wonder Zaron here finds you irresistible.”

Emily’s creamy cheeks turned pink. “How long have you and Zaron known each other?” she asked, clearly eager to change the subject.

“Oh, not that long,” Ellet said breezily. “Twelve or thirteen years, right, Zaron?”

Zaron nodded. “We met at what you humans would call a biology conference—a gathering of experts in the field of species studies. Now, Emily, you haven’t had your breakfast yet. Ellet, would you care for something to eat as well?”

“Sure,” the Krinar woman said with a wide grin. “I haven’t had house-cooked food in a long time.”

Zaron had the house prepare a wide variety of dishes, and the three of them sat down to eat breakfast. Almost right away, Emily started peppering Ellet with questions, asking her about everything from Ellet’s role in the settlement project to life on Krina. Zaron did his best to steer the conversation to relatively safe topics, but Emily kept prying and Ellet seemed oblivious to Zaron’s subtle signals.

“Oh, yes, women on Krina have all the same rights as men,” she told Emily when the human girl asked about gender relations. “I mean, the men tend to be highly territorial and protective of their women, but there’s nothing stopping us from getting the jobs we want or even participating in the Arena fights if we’re so inclined—”

“Arena fights?” Emily asked, latching on to the one tidbit Zaron had hoped she’d miss.

“It’s just an old tradition,” Zaron cut in before Ellet could respond. “A sport of sorts, like mixed martial arts here.”

Ellet glanced at him with eyebrows raised but didn’t contradict him. The deadly Arena challenges had more in common with gladiator fights in Rome than modern human sports, but Zaron didn’t want Emily to know that. To explain the ancient institution of the Arena, he’d have to go into the violent history of the Krinar and their predatory origins. If Emily knew that his people had once hunted weaker primates for blood and that her kind had originally been designed as a substitute for those primates, she’d worry about the invasion even more.

“What about humans?” Emily asked next. “Are there any living on Krina? I mean, you guys have been coming here for a while, so…” She let the sentence trail off.

“Oh, sure,” Ellet said, picking up a piece of roasted Ipomoea batatas—sweet potato. “We have a number of humans living back home.”

She didn’t elaborate further, and Zaron realized that his colleague had caught on to the fact that it might not be wise for Emily to know too much. Tomorrow morning, he’d have to let her go, and she would be free to share her knowledge with the others. They had to make sure they didn’t tell her anything the Council wouldn’t want the human media to know.

“So what do my people do on your planet?” Emily persisted. “Are they there because you’re studying them, or are they considered something like immigrants? In general, what kind of rights do they have?”

“There aren’t many humans on Krina currently, so there are no formal laws in that regard,” Zaron said before Ellet could answer. “Maybe that’ll change now that we’ll be in contact more.”

The truth was that humans had no rights on Krina. Over the millennia that his people had been visiting Earth, hundreds of humans had been brought to Krina, and Zaron suspected that not all of them had come of their own free will. Most of the older Krinar saw nothing wrong with that; they’d been around when Emily’s species had lived in caves, so to many of them, humans were just a few steps above animals. But the younger Krinar, those of Zaron’s and Ellet’s generation, held more nuanced views, and Zaron was no exception. To him, humans weren’t all that different from the Krinar—at least not in the ways that mattered.

“Tell me about yourself,” Ellet said to Emily. The human biology expert now seemed eager to change the subject as well. “Why did you come to Costa Rica, and how did you get hurt so badly?”

Emily smiled politely and explained that she’d been on vacation and went hiking in the rainforest without considering the recent rains. “It was stupid of me, I know,” she said with a wry grimace. “I shouldn’t have tried to cross that bridge—at least not when I saw that it was wet.”

She continued, explaining how she’d hung there by her fingernails, and Zaron’s gut clenched as he remembered Emily’s broken body lying on those rocks. If he hadn’t heard her scream, if he hadn’t gotten there in time… The agony that shot through him at the thought was as sharp as when he’d learned of Larita’s death. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the knowledge that he’d almost lost Emily—lost her before having the chance to know her. Another few minutes, and her life would’ve been cut short, her bright mind extinguished in the shattered shell of her body.

“Damn right you shouldn’t have tried to cross that bridge.” The words ripped out of him, terse and harsh, startling the two women into silence. “What the hell were you thinking, hiking alone like that? You could’ve been stung or bitten; there are all sorts of venomous creatures here—not to mention, you were fair game for any criminal asshole who’d crossed your path. How were you planning to protect yourself? You could’ve been raped, robbed… killed. Have you no survival instinct, no common sense?” As he spoke, Zaron found himself on his feet, his hands crushing the edge of the table. “What kind of idiot goes on a trip like this solo? What the fuck were you thinking, Emily?”

The human girl was staring at him like he’d lost his mind, and so was Ellet. Zaron couldn’t blame them; he could hear the barely controlled rage in his own voice, and he knew he was acting like a madman. But he couldn’t help it. Ever since Emily had become important to him, he’d purposefully tried to avoid thinking about her accident—and it was precisely for this reason.

He couldn’t handle the idea that the human who’d filled the dark, painful void inside him had come so close to dying.

For a few moments, there was nothing but tense silence. Then Ellet said, “I think I should probably get going. I have quite a bit of work to do today, and—”

“No, please, you don’t have to leave.” Emily jumped to her feet, her falsely bright smile appearing on her lips. “I’m sure you and Zaron have some work matters to discuss, and I just remembered something I’ve been meaning to do. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ellet. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Turning, she disappeared into the living room, her footsteps light as she crossed the room. Then there was silence again, and Zaron knew Emily had gone back to her room, extricating herself from an uncomfortable situation as speedily as she could.

“Well, okay, then,” Ellet said, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “I think I should get going too…”

“No, I’m sorry.” Fury was still a toxic pulse in his veins, but Zaron forced himself to sit down and relax his coiled muscles. “You don’t have to leave. You haven’t even finished your meal yet. I promise I’m going to behave.”

“Are you sure?” Ellet asked dryly. “You don’t want to yell at your human guest some more?”

“No.” Zaron took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Please, sit. Let’s finish our meal, and I’ll apologize to Emily afterwards.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel.”

“It’s not a lovers’ quarrel.” Zaron almost bit out the words, but managed to soften his tone at the last moment. “Emily’s accident brought back some unpleasant memories, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see.” Ellet’s eyes widened with understanding, all traces of amusement disappearing from her face. “Of course, Zaron. I’m sorry. It was thoughtless of me. After your mate and all…”

“What?” Zaron frowned. “No, this has nothing to do with Larita. It’s just that—” He broke off, not knowing how to explain the strange tangle of feelings inside him. “On second thought, maybe it is because of Larita,” he said, seizing the conveniently provided excuse. “I’m sorry I ruined your visit.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Ellet said, and demonstratively dug into the remnants of roasted vegetables on her plate. “You have nothing to worry about,” she mumbled around a mouthful. “Now, please, tell me about the plan for tomorrow. When are we presenting the finalized locations to the Council?”

The rest of the meal passed in conversation about work, and by the time Ellet got up to leave again, Zaron was feeling much calmer. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized to Ellet again, leading her out of the house. “I hope I didn’t make things too awkward.”

Ellet stopped under a Pachira quinata, a pochote tree, some dozen yards away from his cave and gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course you didn’t. Not at all. But, Zaron…” She hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Have you considered making this girl your charl?”

Zaron’s expression must’ve reflected the shock that froze him in place, so Ellet quickly pressed on. “I know it’s none of my business, but it seems like this Emily might mean something to you. If she doesn’t become your charl, she will die. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but in a few short decades. Have you thought about that?”

Zaron hadn’t—because that way lay dark temptations and broken promises. He’d been so focused on the present, on enjoying every moment he had left with Emily, that he’d chased away all thoughts of the future and the cold, painful emptiness that awaited him after her departure tomorrow. He would survive it, he’d told himself. The fact that a human made him feel so alive was a good sign. It meant that he was healing, that the grief that had consumed him for eight years was finally lessening. He hadn’t let himself think beyond that, but here was Ellet, bringing up the fears and dreams he’d been trying to hold at bay.

In as level of a tone as he could manage, Zaron said, “I can’t make her my charl. I promised her that this is only temporary, Ellet. I can’t just keep her—”

“You can.” Ellet’s hazel gaze was unwavering. “You can do anything you want, and you know it.”

Zaron felt her words like a puncture wound to his lungs. She was right. Who would stop him if he decided to keep Emily longer? The Council couldn’t care less about the fate of one human girl, and the human law held no sway over him. He could keep her in his house—and in his bed—for as long as he wanted her.

“No,” Zaron said hoarsely. It was a denial of his own twisted desire as much as Ellet’s words. “I can’t do that to her. Not when I promised that I’d let her go.”

Ellet regarded him silently for a moment; then her lips tilted up in a smile. “I knew you were one of the good ones. This girl of yours is luckier than she knows.” She turned away, as if to keep walking, then spun around to face him again. “Zaron…” Her voice was soft. “Have you considered simply asking her to stay?”

Zaron stared at her. “You mean, permanently? As a charl?”

Ellet nodded.

“No,” Zaron said slowly. “Not really.” Did he want that? Was he ready for such a big step? It was one thing to keep Emily with him for an extra few weeks or months—maybe even a few years—but taking a charl was a lifelong commitment. More than that, it would mean acknowledging to himself how much Emily had come to mean to him—and letting himself be vulnerable again. More vulnerable than with Larita, because Emily was human, with all the weaknesses and frailties of her species. What if Zaron took her as a charl and then lost her, like he’d lost his wife? A human body was so fragile, so breakable…

He must’ve stood frozen in thought for some time because Ellet said gently, “All right. It’s obviously up to you. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Yes.” Zaron shook off the uncharacteristic paralysis. “I’ll figure it out. Thanks for stopping by. It was good to see you.”

“It was my pleasure.” Ellet gave him a warm smile. “Take care, Zaron, and good luck.”

She turned and disappeared into the trees, and Zaron went back into the house, his mind filled with possibilities and his chest aching with emotions he couldn’t acknowledge.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Emily lay on her bed, her eyes burning as she stared at the ceiling. Could it possibly be true, what she’d overheard? Did Zaron’s people actually drink blood?

Extraterrestrial vampires. It sounded ridiculous, like something out of a fifties sci-fi movie. If anyone had mentioned this to Emily a month ago, she’d have laughed her head off. But the Krinar were real, and their traits—biological immortality, superhuman speed, and extreme strength—were something people had ascribed to creatures of the night for centuries. Could it be? Could the Krinar have been the source of all those legends?

It had taken every ounce of willpower Emily possessed not to betray herself, to smile and shake Ellet’s hand like everything was normal. To act like she was simply curious about humans living on Krina instead of wondering in horror about the possibility of blood farms on Zaron’s planet.

Ellet had asked if Zaron had done it again—“it” being Zaron drinking Emily’s blood. That meant that her captor had done it at least once before. Was it when she’d lost her memory? She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it fit. At the time, he’d said that her mental fuzziness was a “natural” outcome of their coupling, that he hadn’t drugged her in any way, yet he’d promised that it wouldn’t happen again—which meant that something other than regular sex had taken place between them. That promise must’ve been what he’d been referring to with Ellet.

Getting up, Emily strode into the bathroom and splashed warm water on her face. She would’ve liked it to be cold, but the intelligent Krinar technology wasn’t intelligent enough to read her mind. The sink insisted on giving her water of comfortable temperature, even though comfort wasn’t what Emily was after. She needed to clear her mind and chase away the conflicting emotions crowding her chest.

She needed to think about what to do next.

Returning to her room, Emily sat down on the bed, staring at the wall through which Zaron would arrive. As far as she could see, she had two options: she could talk to Zaron about her suspicions, or she could keep quiet and continue to pretend that she hadn’t heard anything. Each option had its own pros and cons, but option one carried the greatest risk. If Emily hadn’t misunderstood—if Zaron’s people did indeed drink blood, and he’d been trying to conceal that from her—he might not let her go as promised. In fact, Emily recalled with a sinking sensation, when she’d tried to question Zaron about her memory loss, he’d explicitly said that he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know without violating the mandate. This must’ve been the reason for his caginess: the Krinar had to know humans wouldn’t be comfortable with vampires coming to their planet.

The upcoming invasion was the equivalent of a pack of wolves settling in a henhouse.

“Emily?” The wall dissolved in front of her, and Zaron stepped through, a frown etched into his inhumanly beautiful face. “Are you okay?”

Emily’s pulse spiked as she jumped to her feet. “What?” Did he know? Did he realize she’d overheard?

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Moving with his customary flowing grace, Zaron crossed the room to join her by the bed, and this time, there was no doubt in Emily’s mind.

His stride was that of a predator, sleek and deadly.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” he continued, and Emily realized she’d forgotten about his strange behavior, all her thoughts occupied by his inadvertent revelation.

Pasting on a smile, she managed to say, “That’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

Her palms were sweating, her heart drumming frantically in her chest, and she wondered if Zaron could hear it… if he could smell her fear. Emily was fairly certain the Krinar didn’t need to kill humans to drink their blood—at least, Zaron hadn’t needed to kill her that time—but just the idea of him preying on her like that was enough to fill her stomach with lead.

A vampire. The man in whose bed she’d spent the last two weeks was a vampire.

Emily should’ve been terrified, repulsed, but as she stared up at him, all she felt was the familiar dark heat, that humming, buzzing awareness that made her skin prickle and her breath catch in her throat. She was afraid he knew she’d overheard, terrified that he might detain her to keep from breaking their mandate, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She knew Zaron wouldn’t truly hurt her—she felt it with every fiber of her being—and as she saw the answering heat in his black gaze, the anxiety bubbling in her veins transformed into something else… something just as disturbing.

She licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry all of a sudden, and his eyes followed the movement, his jaw tensing and his powerful chest expanding with a deep breath.

“Emily…” Her name was a rough exhalation on his lips as he stepped closer, crowding her against the edge of the bed. “Angel, I need you so fucking much.”

“Zaron, I—” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, but it didn’t matter because he was already on her, claiming her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss. His hands caught her wrists, stretching her arms above her head as he bore her down to the bed, and Emily felt the heat inside her ignite to a blistering flame. He was often like this with her—feral, dominant—yet even during those times, he reined in his shocking strength, careful not to hurt her. It turned her on, this controlled savagery of his, and her sex grew wet, her nipples constricting to tight, aching points. Moaning into his mouth, she arched against his powerful body, desperate to quench the pulsing ache between her legs, and felt the hard bulge in his jeans.

Vampire. The word whispered through her mind, bringing with it a disquieting chill, but it wasn’t enough to suppress the fire liquefying her insides. She wanted Zaron, needed him in a way that made her forget everything but the dark, dizzying pleasure of his touch. Nothing mattered in this moment but him, this stranger who’d saved her life and stolen her freedom, who’d become so essential to her in the last two weeks. The way he made her feel was both terrifying and exhilarating, as if she was scaling a cliff with just a thin safety line.

Keeping Emily’s wrists imprisoned in one of his big hands, Zaron slid his other hand down her body, delving under her skirt to touch the soft, aching place between her thighs. His eyes were pure black as he lifted his head, holding her gaze, and his skilled fingers parted her folds, seeking the throbbing bundle of nerves within. Emily gasped, her core knotting tight when he pressed on her clit, gently at first, then with rougher, crueler pressure. And all the while his hard-muscled body kept her pinned to the bed, making her feel helpless and small, weak with need.

“Zaron.” She wasn’t sure if she whispered his name or exhaled it, but his nostrils flared, his gaze sharpening with predatory intensity. There was something in his eyes she’d never seen before, something that frightened her despite the arousal blazing through her body.

“Emily, angel…” His voice was a dark, rough whisper as he held her restrained, his fingers still playing with her clit. It was hunger in his gaze, she realized, and something else, something she couldn’t quite decipher. “Don’t go tomorrow,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I want you to stay.”

His words slammed into her like a hammer. Emily froze, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but stare up at him in mute shock. What did Zaron mean by that? Did he know? The panic bubbling through her swept away the haze of arousal, leaving only fear in its place.

“But you promised,” she managed to whisper through numb lips. “You promised you’d let me go.”

The strange emotion in Zaron’s gaze faded, replaced by a cold, hard gleam, and his mouth thinned to a dangerous line. It was like watching a man transform into a granite sculpture—a sculpture that radiated rage.

“Fine,” he said harshly. “So be it. You leave tomorrow. But until then, you’re mine, and I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Zaron knew it was wrong to feel such anger over Emily’s refusal, but he couldn’t help the volcanic fury that burned in his chest as he gazed down at her, seeing the fear in her blue-green eyes. It sharpened the pain of her rejection, intensified it until he felt like he was bleeding from a thousand jagged cuts.

He might as well have offered Emily poison instead of his heart.

On a different day, under different circumstances, he might’ve been more rational about it, might’ve made allowances for the fact that they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. But the ships were arriving tomorrow, and the knowledge that Zaron was about to lose her, that she was going to walk away and leave him to the agonizing emptiness of the last eight years, was like acid dripping on an open wound. All he could think about was that Emily didn’t want him, didn’t feel the yearning that twisted him up inside and made him crave something he’d thought he’d never want again.

Having her spread out underneath him, with his hand buried between her creamy thighs, only made it worse. He could feel the slickness between her folds, the liquid heat that signaled her desire, and it added to his fury. Emily’s body wanted him, welcomed the pleasure he gave her, but her heart and mind were closed to him. It didn’t make sense, but Zaron felt used, betrayed somehow—a feeling aggravated by the lust pumping violently through his veins.

If all Emily wanted from him was sex, that’s precisely what she would get.

Rearing up, Zaron used his grip on Emily’s wrists to pull her up with him, then flipped her onto her stomach and released her wrists. She gasped, her palms splaying on the mattress as if she wanted to push herself up, but he was already tearing off her dress and stuffing a pillow under her hips to prop up her soft, shapely ass. It obsessed him, that ass, just like every part of Emily’s body, yet he hadn’t claimed it yet, just as he hadn’t done the million and one dirty things he’d been aching to do to her. He’d taken it slow, not wanting to overwhelm the human girl, and that had been a mistake.

She was leaving tomorrow, and Zaron hadn’t even begun to satisfy his hunger for her.

Leaning over her, he lowered his head until his lips hovered above Emily’s ear. Her soft blond hair tickled his face, and her sweet scent was so intoxicating his cock almost punched a hole through his jeans. “I’m going to fuck you,” he said in a hard, thick voice he barely recognized as his own. “Today, you’re going to give me everything, angel.”

She made a soft, strangled noise—an agreement? a protest?—but when Zaron reached between her legs, she was scalding hot and wet, ready for him. He pushed two fingers into her, penetrating her silky flesh, and his balls tightened at her gasping moan, at the way her body clenched around his fingers, sucking them in deeper. She was trembling underneath him now, her bare skin hot and damp with sweat, and Zaron knew that she was close to coming, that in another moment she’d be his.

Mine. The word blazed through his mind, bringing with it that intense dark longing. The physical hunger was only part of it; the rest was tangled up with loss and grief and something so bright and incandescent that it made up for all the pain it would bring. Zaron didn’t want to name that something, not even in his mind, but he felt it like a living thing inside him, humming and pulsing with each hammering beat of his heart.

No. Stop. This was just fucking, Zaron told himself. He’d clearly restrained himself too much; that’s why he couldn’t imagine letting Emily go, why he felt so empty at the thought of the days to come. He needed to get her out of his system, to do whatever it took to rid himself of this twisted, impossible longing.

Slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her wet heat, Zaron used his other hand to open the zipper of his jeans. His cock sprang free, so hard and swollen it curved up to his abdomen. Withdrawing his fingers, Zaron wiped them on his shaft to coat it in her wetness. The scent of Emily, warm and sweetly female, was in his nostrils, and it was all he could do to line his throbbing cock against her opening and push in slowly instead of plunging in all the way. In this position, with her legs closed, she was extra tight around him, and he knew he could hurt her if he wasn’t careful. But then she moaned, arching her back to take him in deeper, and he couldn’t control himself. With a low, harsh growl, Zaron slid his hand under her belly to find her clit and, pressing on it, thrust in all the way.

Emily cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets, and he felt her shudder underneath him, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. “Zaron…” His name was a breathless prayer on her lips. “Oh my God, Zaron…”

He knew the precise moment it happened for her, felt the rippling spasms of her release, and he gritted his teeth to avoid coming too. Reaching for Emily’s hair, he twisted the silky blond strands around his fist, forcing her head to arch back. Then, holding himself up on one elbow, he pushed the fingers of his other hand—the fingers that had just been inside her—into her mouth. Her lips and tongue felt amazing on his skin, her mouth as slick and warm as the walls of her pussy, and he pushed his fingers deeper, liberally coating them in her saliva before lowering his hand to her ass.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked thickly, using his hold on her hair to press her face against the mattress. His saliva-slickened fingers slid between her curvy ass cheeks, finding the tight ring of muscle there, and he felt her tense in shock as he touched the tiny opening. “Has anyone fucked you here?”

“No.” She gasped as he applied some pressure, forcing the tip of his finger into her. “I… I never—”

“Good. Then this is mine and mine alone.” The satisfaction Zaron felt at the thought was beyond primitive. His cock swelled and thickened inside her pussy until he was on the verge of bursting, but with a massive effort of will, he held back the cresting pleasure. A murmured command to his house in Krinar, and special lubricant coated his hand, easing his finger’s entry into her tight ass.

“Relax,” he whispered when Emily whimpered and clenched her cheeks, fighting the intrusion. Her pussy tightened around his cock, massaging him involuntarily, and Zaron groaned as his finger touched his cock through the thin inner wall separating her orifices. “You’ll get used to it in a moment.”

She was panting into the mattress, her skin sheened with sweat, but he felt the wet heat inside her intensify, coating his cock with more moisture. After a few seconds, the worst of her tension eased, her muscles relaxing slightly, and Zaron leaned down and kissed her ear, crooning, “That’s it, angel. There you go…” His soothing words were accompanied by his second finger pressing against her opening. She tensed again, but he’d managed to get the tip of the second finger in, and the rest slid in easily, aided by the lube.

“Okay?” he murmured, feeling her shake, and it seemed to take forever before her head moved in a small nod.

“Good girl.” Zaron kissed her ear again and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Fighting for control, he began to move, thrusting into her simultaneously with his cock and fingers. Emily moaned, the painfully erotic sound nearly making him combust. It took all he had to remain gentle, to keep his movements slow and controlled so he wouldn’t hurt her. As he kept moving, however, some of her stiffness eased, and her moans grew louder, her pussy squeezing him with slick, silky heat.

Groaning, Zaron gripped her hip with his free hand and started thrusting harder, his fingers inside her moving in rhythm with his cock. He felt like a volcano on the verge of bursting, and he knew he wouldn’t last more than a few seconds—and then he didn’t have to.

With a thin cry, Emily reached her peak, her inner muscles clamping down on him like a soft, wet vise. He felt the spasms wracking her body, heard her panting gasps, and then he was there, the orgasm sending bolts of ecstasy through his nerve endings. His vision went white as a massive wave of pleasure rolled through him, stunning him with its force, and his seed spurted out, his cock jerking inside her uncontrollably.

Breathing heavily, Zaron withdrew from Emily and pulled his fingers out of her back opening. Then he got up, gathered her in his arms, and carried her to the shower. She seemed dazed, barely able to stand upright when he placed her on her feet inside the shower stall, so he picked her up again, holding her against his chest as the intelligent technology cleaned them both.

He’d give Emily a few minutes to recover, and then it was time for round two.

Wrapped in Zaron’s arms, Emily felt wrung out and overwhelmed. Her body throbbed in places she’d never felt before, and her muscles seemed to be made of cotton. The razor-sharp blend of ecstasy and pain she’d just experienced was too much to process in combination with everything else.

He was letting her go tomorrow.

Emily should’ve been relieved, but instead, a heavy pressure settled low in her chest, compressing her ribcage and tightening her stomach. Had Zaron been asking her to stay rather than threatening to detain her? Is that why he’d seemed so angry when she’d reminded him of his promise? For a couple of moments, she’d been afraid he might punish her with sex, but he’d been gentle—well, as gentle as a man who double-penetrated her could be. Her back passage still burned from his fingers, but something about that odd, foreign fullness, that feeling of being completely and utterly taken, had made her orgasm infinitely more intense.

When they were both clean and dry, Zaron carried her back to the bedroom. Emily expected him to put her down and step away, but he placed her on the bed and covered her with his body. Holding himself up on his elbows, he framed her face with his big palms, and before she had a chance to say anything, he kissed her.

His breath was sweet and faintly minty from the cleaning, but there was nothing sweet about the kiss itself. It was raw and passionate, as hungry as if he hadn’t just emptied himself inside her. Instantly, Emily felt the curl of heat deep in her core and the pulse of arousal in her veins. With Zaron’s muscular body over her, she was cocooned in a bubble of dark sensuality, and nothing existed outside of this kiss: no invasion, no fear, no tomorrow. Everything seemed to fall away, leaving only the man devouring her mouth and the desperate need heating her blood.

The next couple of hours were a blur of sex, of his mouth and fingers and cock all over her body. He fucked her like it was the last time he would ever have sex, and she came again and again, screaming his name. And when Emily thought she couldn’t take any more, he poured lube all over his cock, bent her in half by draping her legs over his shoulders, and worked himself into her ass, inch by slow inch. It hurt and burned—his cock was much bigger than his fingers—but she was too dazed from all the sex to put up any kind of protest. All she could do was lie there helplessly, trying to breathe through the cramping fullness, but after the worst of the stinging pain subsided, the dark pleasure returned, aided by his skilled fingers petting her swollen folds.

“Come for me,” he whispered, pinching her clit as he thrust deeper into her ass, and Emily did exactly that, her exhausted body shuddering with ecstasy again and again.

She wasn’t sure if she slept then, or if she simply zoned out, but when she came to, she was clean, and Zaron was sitting on the edge of the bed holding a tray with berries and roasted nuts.

“Eat,” he ordered, holding a strawberry to her mouth, and Emily obediently bit into it, still too tired and overwhelmed to do anything else. Her muscles ached in places she hadn’t known she had muscles, and her sex was so sensitive the slightest brush against her clit hurt. Yet when Zaron finished feeding her and reached for her again, she responded, her body conditioned by the mind-bending pleasure his touch had always brought.

They made love again, leisurely this time, and when Emily lay in Zaron’s arms, shattered and depleted, she felt a dull ache tighten her chest. It was still early in the afternoon, but the next morning loomed like a dark cloud, the mere thought of it filling her with dread. After what she’d learned about Zaron’s people, she was terrified of the invasion to come, but she was even more scared of how it would feel to be separated from Zaron… to know that she would never lie in his embrace again.

What if she did stay? The thought was an insidious whisper in her mind, dark and tempting. He’d said he wanted her to stay. Had he meant it, and if so, for how long? Surely he would get tired of her eventually—if not now, then when her human body began showing signs of aging. And then there was the blood-drinking issue and the fact that his people were about to take over Earth with mysterious—and possibly sinister—intentions.

Stockholm syndrome. Emily knew what it was, had even written a paper on it in her college psych class. Zaron wasn’t abusive, but he had been holding her in his house against her will. There was every chance that the captor-captive dynamic had twisted her thinking, amplifying physical attraction until it morphed into an unhealthy addiction. Ever since Emily had woken up in Zaron’s house, she’d had to rely on him for everything: food, water, walks… even pleasure and comfort. Right now, he was a god in her world, a ruler with absolute power. He controlled her completely. How could she make a sane, rational decision in this state of mind? How could she trust herself to give up everything to be with an extraterrestrial whose species might harm her own?

She couldn’t. It was as simple as that.

The pain pierced her, as sharp as any knife, but Emily knew she had to be strong. It was the only way. Still, she couldn’t help the stinging in her eyes as she lifted her head from Zaron’s shoulder to meet his glittering gaze.

“I want you to do it,” she said, her voice shaking from the effort of holding back tears. “That thing you did the second time we had sex. What you promised you wouldn’t do. I want you to fuck me and make me forget.”

Zaron’s body seemed to have turned to stone, his eyes like black pools in his perfectly sculpted face. “Are you sure?” His voice was low and deep. “Are you sure about that, angel?”

Emily nodded, afraid yet resolute. She was beyond sore and exhausted, but she couldn’t keep on agonizing like this until morning. And some part of her wanted to experience it again, that dark bliss, that total loss of identity. She wanted Zaron to drink her blood so she could see what it was like and forget her worries at the same time.

“Do it,” she said, and watched his jaw tighten. He moved, and in a blur, Emily found herself on her back again, with Zaron’s big body caging her against the mattress. His hands slid into her hair as he lowered his head, his lips brushing over her neck, and then she felt it: that sharp, slicing pain.

It was his bite, she realized, and then she couldn’t think at all, all her senses swamped by the explosive ecstasy bursting through her veins.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Zaron watched as Emily stirred, rolling over to expose her full breasts and and the upper portion of her sleek belly. Her pale skin was flawlessly smooth, her pink nipples soft in her repose. She was beautiful, this human girl of his, and he ached for her with a fierceness that stole his breath. Last night hadn’t helped; if anything, it had made it worse. The taste of her was still on his tongue, sweet and vital, and the knowledge that he’d never have her again was as agonizing as a Chironex fleckeri sting.

She didn’t want to stay. He had to accept it, no matter how much the dark voice inside him whispered that he could keep her, that no one would ever interfere. He could make her his charl, and eventually, she’d come to terms with it, maybe even appreciate it over time.

No. Zaron suppressed that voice. He’d promised Emily freedom, and he had to keep that promise. He couldn’t live with himself if she grew to hate him; no matter how much he needed her, he didn’t want her unwilling and resentful.

Lifting his hand, he gently stroked the satiny line of her jaw. “Wake up, angel. It’s time to go if you’re to make your flight.”

Emily’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked, staring up at him. “What?”

“You have to get dressed and eat, so we can go,” Zaron said. Though he’d intended to keep things light, the words came out terse and harsh. “You don’t want your plane to leave without you.”

“My plane?” Sitting up, Emily pulled the blanket to her chest and gave him a bewildered look. “What do you mean?”

“I bought you a plane ticket to replace the one that expired unused,” Zaron said. “Now I need to get you to the airport.”

“Oh. Thank you. That’s really thoughtful of you.” She jumped out of bed, her slender curves making his mouth water as she padded naked across the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, and a moment later, Zaron heard the shower turn on. The temptation to join her there was strong, but he resisted the urge. If he touched Emily again, there was a high likelihood she wouldn’t fly out today.

When she emerged from the shower, still naked, he handed her a stack of clothes and watched her eyebrows crawl up. “These are mine,” she said, looking up at him incredulously. “Where did you get my clothes?”

“I took them along with your other belongings from the hotel where you were staying,” Zaron said, doing his best to keep his gaze above her neck. “I knew you’d need your passport and such.” He’d gone there the day after she’d woken up, when he’d decided to keep her until the ships’ arrival.

“So you’ve had this all along?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why have you kept it from me?”

“You didn’t need any of these things here,” he said, ignoring the way her mouth tightened at his answer. “I gave you better, more comfortable clothes and shoes.”

In reality, Zaron didn’t know why he’d kept Emily’s belongings from her. She hadn’t brought much on this trip—just a backpack filled with essentials—and he hadn’t given the matter much thought. He’d simply retrieved the bag from Emily’s hotel and stashed it away. The clothes he’d fabricated for her were indeed superior to the primitive human ones, and it had given him pleasure to see her walk around in the dresses he’d created.

Emily’s movements were stiff and jerky as she got dressed, but she didn’t say anything—which was smart of her, Zaron thought. Given the simmering anger in his chest, it wouldn’t take much to push him into an argument.

When Emily was clothed, he handed her a fruit smoothie that his house had prepared, and said, “Let’s go.”

Grabbing her backpack on the way, he led her out of the house.

Her thoughts in turmoil, Emily followed Zaron outside, sipping her smoothie without tasting it. Her regular clothes—a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and Nike sneakers—felt oddly rough and uncomfortable, as if they belonged to someone else. Her body, though, felt fine, with no traces of soreness from yesterday’s sexual marathon. Zaron must’ve healed her while she slept.

Last night and the rest of yesterday’s day were a blur in Emily’s mind, a tangle of barely remembered images and sensations. All she could recall was pleasure that seemed too intense to be purely sexual. It reminded her of the time she’d accidentally tried a designer drug in college. It was as if everything had been enhanced, the ecstasy surreally acute. Was that from his bite, or had he used some kind of alien drug as an aphrodisiac? She wanted to ask, but she didn’t dare betray her knowledge of this Krinar trait—not when she was so close to freedom.

“How am I getting to the airport?” she asked instead when Zaron began walking in the direction of the lake. The sun was already high in the sky—Emily must’ve slept late—and the air was thick and humid. “We can’t walk the whole way, can we?”

“No, of course not.” His response was biting. “I have a vehicle stashed nearby.”

“Oh.” He had a car in the jungle? “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

They continued walking in silence. When Emily finished her smoothie, the cup dissolved in her hand, startling her. She wanted to ask about that, but when she glanced at Zaron and saw his shuttered expression, she decided against it. Her captor—soon to be former captor—was not in a good mood.

Before long, Emily’s T-shirt was clinging damply to her back. The humidity was such that it was actually hard to breathe. It was going to rain this afternoon, she could feel it, and she wondered if that would delay her flight. Or maybe the alien invasion would, she thought, and couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“What’s so funny?” Zaron gave her a sharp look.

“Did your ships already arrive and make contact?” she asked instead of explaining.

Zaron shook his head. “It’s happening in a couple of hours.”

“And you’re already letting me go?” Emily couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “What if I talk before then?”

Zaron’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything, and Emily exhaled in relief when he just kept walking. Why had she just tried to provoke him? She knew he was already on edge. Was some twisted part of her actually hoping he’d get angry enough to force her to stay?

Pushing the thought away, Emily followed Zaron through the thick forest. Before long, he turned west and headed up a narrow dirt path that wound through a tangle of trees and bushes. They walked like that for what seemed like a mile until they entered a clearing.

There, half-hidden under a canopy of trees, was a monster pickup truck.

“We’ll take this the rest of the way,” Zaron said, fishing a set of keys out of his pocket, and Emily watched open-mouthed as he opened the car, threw her backpack in, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“You drive this thing?” she asked in amazement, and he gave her a puzzled look.

“Of course I drive. How else would I get around on your planet? We’re not allowed to use our flying pods yet.”

“Right.” Emily climbed into the truck—literally climbed, as the step was thigh-high for her—and buckled herself in. “I just never pictured you in something like this.” She hadn’t pictured her alien captor driving at all, but if she had, it would’ve been in something sleek and futuristic, like a Tesla.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Zaron’s expression was unreadable as he started the car. “I needed something sturdy for this terrain.”

“Gotcha,” Emily said as the vehicle began to make its way through a seemingly impenetrable wall of tall grass and low bushes. She was grateful for the seatbelt as they hit a ditch and climbed over it. “I see what you mean.”

She expected them to continue like that for a while, but within minutes, they hit a dirt path and, other than an occasional pothole, the rest of the drive was smooth. Zaron didn’t speak, and neither did Emily. His shoulders were tense as he drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Emily sensed that a single word or gesture from her was all it would take for him to turn back. She could feel it in the electric tension that crackled between them and in the silence that felt as thick and heavy as the air outside.

Biting her tongue to keep from saying anything, Emily looked away, staring blindly out the window. She couldn’t let herself weaken now. She had a life back home that didn’t revolve around a gorgeous extraterrestrial, a life that she’d worked hard to build. She was obviously not thinking clearly; else she wouldn’t be tempted to give in to this madness.

It felt like the drive lasted forever, but when Emily glanced at the dashboard clock, she saw that only two hours had passed since they’d gotten into the truck.

“We’re going to the Liberia airport?” she asked as they entered the city bounds, and Zaron nodded.

“It’s the closest one with international flights. I got you a direct flight to the John F. Kennedy airport.”

“Thank you.” Emily didn’t know what else to say. For someone who didn’t want her to go, Zaron was being incredibly considerate. “I really appreciate it.”

He didn’t respond, and a few minutes later, they were pulling up to the Departure area. Zaron parked the truck at the curb and jumped out, walking around to open the door for Emily. She was about to jump down, but he caught her and brought her down, his grip on her waist incredibly strong yet gentle.

“Um, thanks,” Emily mumbled when he released her and took a step back. His touch had shaken her, the heat from his palms penetrating the thin fabric of her shirt, and her heart thumped against her ribcage as Zaron reached into the truck and pulled out the backpack, handing it to her.

“Your passport is in the outside compartment, as is your wallet,” he said, his expression still closed off. “The boarding pass is inside the passport.”

Emily nodded. She wanted to thank him again, but there was a thick knot in her throat, and she knew that if she tried to speak, she’d start to cry. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the people around them staring at them—or more specifically, at Zaron. Women of all ages seemed mesmerized by the tall, dark man who could’ve stepped straight out of their fantasies. Did any of them sense his otherness, Emily wondered dully, or were they all too blinded by his stunning male beauty?

Zaron’s eyes were trained on her face, and for a moment, she thought he might again ask her to stay. This time, Emily didn’t know if she’d be able to refuse. Now that her departure was no longer hypothetical, she could barely breathe through the crushing pain. The thick, humid air seemed to be pressing in on her from all sides, making her feel like she was locked in a small closet. She hadn’t even gotten onto the plane yet, and she was already missing her captor, aching for him in the worst possible way.

But he didn’t ask her to stay. “Goodbye, Emily,” he said, and before she could gather her thoughts, he climbed into the truck and drove off.

Emily didn’t know how she’d made it through security and onto the plane. The tears streaming down her face were blinding, and her throat felt like it was in a chokehold, the sense of loss crushing and all-consuming. She kept reminding herself about all the reasons why this was the right decision, but it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t logic away the pain.

“Is everything okay, señorita?” a concerned guard had asked in the security line, and she’d mumbled something about separating from a boyfriend. The man had given her a sympathetic smile and waved her through, and Emily had stumbled on, somehow getting on the plane where she now sat, listening to the pilot’s pre-departure announcements.

Her ticket was for a business-class window seat—another bit of thoughtfulness on Zaron’s part. Under normal circumstances, Emily would’ve greatly enjoyed the upgrade, but she was too upset to appreciate the gourmet meal and the free alcohol. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and the five-hour flight seemed to stretch into an eternity. The only thing she managed to do was plug in her dead phone, so it would hopefully work when she got home.

Finally, they landed in JFK.

Her first clue that something was wrong were the frantic crowds inside the terminal. The always-busy New York airport was packed to the brim, with frustrated-looking passengers occupying every available seat at the gates and lining up along the walls. Each customer service desk had a line of several hundred people, and the airline employees behind those desks seemed frazzled and overwhelmed.

“What’s happening?” Emily asked a relatively calm-looking man who was standing next to a snack kiosk.

“Haven’t you heard?” he said. “The FAA just grounded all flights. They didn’t say why, but the President is going to be holding a press conference this evening.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The wait time for a taxi was almost two hours, so Emily took the airtrain to the subway, and then the E train to the city. The crowd on the subway buzzed with panicked speculation; nobody knew what the upcoming announcement would be about, but almost everyone thought it had to do with a major terrorist threat. Why else would the FAA ground all planes?

Emily knew the real answer, but she kept her mouth shut and tried to ignore the conversations taking place all around her. New Yorkers were solitary creatures, conditioned not to interact with strangers, but the fear generated by the unusual events seemed to break down those barriers. Everyone was talking to everyone else, putting forth their ideas for whether it was the Islamic State or Al-Queda or something else entirely.

By the time Emily got off at her Times Square stop, her head ached, and she felt sick from a combination of jet lag and hunger. She’d been too upset to eat on the plane, and her breakfast smoothie had been many hours ago. Not that eating would’ve helped the anxiety that was gnawing a hole through her stomach.

The invasion was happening. It was real. Up until she’d stepped off that plane, some part of Emily had foolishly hoped that something would prevent the Krinar from going through with their plan, that they would change their minds for whatever reason. But of course they didn’t. They’d made contact, and the US government had reacted by grounding all flights.

And it wasn’t just the US government, she realized, seeing the scrolling headlines on the giant screens in Times Square. Flights were grounded all across Europe and Asia. Emily guessed it was so that civilian travel wouldn’t interfere with military air maneuvers, should those become necessary.

Shuddering at the thought, Emily pushed through the crowds in Times Square and hurried to Amber’s apartment, which was some five blocks away from her own studio in Midtown West. Thanks to her remembering to charge her phone on the plane, she had a couple of bars of reception, but whenever she tried to call Amber, she couldn’t get through. She suspected it was because the cell networks were overwhelmed; everyone was trying to call everyone else to speculate about the mystery threat that had halted all air travel. Hopefully, Amber would be home; it was well after eight p.m. on Sunday, and Amber usually had to wake up early on Mondays for her part-time breakfast cafe job.

Amber’s one-bedroom apartment was on 10th Avenue, on the fourth floor of a walk-up building that hadn’t been renovated since the eighties. The building looked and smelled terrible, but the rent was low—by Manhattan standards, at least—and Amber could afford it on her cashier/freelance writer’s income.

Feeling utterly drained, Emily trudged up the four flights of stairs and rang the doorbell.

“Emily! Thank God!” Amber all but jumped at Emily, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug the moment the door swung open. “I was so worried about you!”

“I’m okay,” Emily said, smiling at her friend—who, as usual, was wearing a paint-splattered bohemian dress and had flecks of paint in her thick red hair. Amber was an aspiring artist as well as a writer, and she spent all of her free time working on her paintings. “I’m so sorry I got delayed like that. I didn’t mean to dump George on you for so long. How is he?”

“Your cat is fine—a total sweetheart, in fact,” Amber said, leading Emily into the apartment. “It was no problem keeping him. But tell me, what happened? You were supposed to return two weeks ago; then I get that mysterious little email from you and then nothing.”

“Yeah, about that…” Emily put her backpack on the floor. “Can we actually turn on the news first? I think it might be easier to explain after the President gives his speech.”

“What?” Amber gave her a confused frown. “What speech?”

“You haven’t heard, huh?” It wasn’t uncommon for Amber to avoid her phone and computer when she was in the throes of artistic inspiration.

“I’ve been painting all weekend,” Amber said, confirming Emily’s guess. “Why? Did something happen?”

“You could say that. Come, let’s turn on the TV.”

As soon as they entered the living room, a gray ball of fur streaked across the floor, meowing loudly. Laughing, Emily bent down and picked up her cat, who began purring as soon as he was in Emily’s arms.

“George really missed you,” Amber said, picking up the remote to turn on her TV. “He barely ate the first couple of days, just stared out the window and—oh, shit!”

The news channel was showing stranded travelers in airports all over the world, with people lying, sitting, and standing all over the terminals. Taxi lines outside seemed to stretch for miles, and traffic jams in and around major airports were horrendous.

“Yeah, it’s like that in JFK too. I made it in right before they grounded the planes,” Emily said. Sitting down on the couch, she cuddled George tighter against her chest, deriving comfort from his warm, furry body.

The news anchor was reporting on the situation and speculating on the content of the President’s upcoming press conference. What really puzzled everyone was that it wasn’t just the President who was scheduled to speak at nine. All world leaders were expected to address their citizens at the same time.

“What’s going on?” The freckles on Amber’s pale face stood out in stark relief as she turned to face Emily. “Do you know something about this?”

“Just watch,” Emily said as the cameras switched over to the image of the White House, where the President of the United States was walking into the press conference room. Stopping in front of a tall podium, he looked directly into the camera, and Emily noticed lines of tension etched into his normally stoic face.

“Good evening,” he said, and Emily had to admire his composure. Despite everything, his voice was calm and reassuring. “I’m sure many of you are wondering what’s behind today’s extraordinary events, so I’m going to get straight to the point. Earlier today, NASA detected an unusual object in Earth’s orbit. Shortly thereafter, we—along with most other developed nations—were contacted by a humanoid extraterrestrial species who call themselves the Krinar. Supposedly, they seeded life on Earth billions of years ago by sending us DNA from Krina, their home planet. Afterwards, they guided our evolution with the goal of developing a species that was similar to them in many ways. We are that species, and they have deemed this to be the right time to make contact with us. Their ambassador has assured me that, while they do intend to build a few settlements on our planet, they are interested in peaceful coexistence, not war.”

He stopped to take a breath, and the room exploded with questions, the reporters trying to outshout one another.

“How do you know this is for real and not some hoax?” screamed a blond woman.

“What do they look like? Where is their planet?” yelled a tall, balding man.

“Is the object in our orbit their ship? How did they approach unseen?”

“How did they get here? Do they have faster-than-light travel?”

“What kind of technology do they have? What kind of weapons?”

“What are they really after? How do we know their intentions are peaceful?”

“Why do they want to build settlements here? Are they trying to colonize us?”

This went on for a solid minute until the President raised his hand, palm facing out.

“Silence, please,” he said in that calming voice of his—the voice that had served him so well during the election and subsequent presidency. Instantly, the reporters quieted down, the frantic roar in the room dying down to an uneasy hum.

“Now,” the President said, “I’ll do my best to address some of your questions. NASA has confirmed that the object in our orbit is indeed one of their ships. There are several more ships nearby in our solar system. At this point, we are certain that this is not a hoax. Their ambassador has told us that Krina is in a different galaxy. Given that, the Krinar must have the means to travel faster than the speed of light. Their technology appears to be far more advanced than our own, and we assume their weapons must be too. However, since we have no reason to believe that their intentions are hostile, that should not be cause for concern. As far as their external appearance, it is human. The image of the Krinar ambassador will be distributed to the news outlets immediately after this press conference. This is all we know at this point; as we learn more, we will disseminate that information. In the meanwhile, I urge you all to stay calm and go about your lives as normally as possible. This is a great turning point in our history. Let’s make sure it’s one we can look back on with pride. Thank you all, and good night.”

The room exploded again, but the President was already walking out, surrounded by his aides. As soon as he left the room, the image on the TV screen split into eighths to show similar press conferences taking place all over the globe, and the anchor—who looked as shell-shocked as the viewers undoubtedly felt—began to summarize the President’s speech.

Emily let out a breath she’d been holding and lowered still-purring George to her lap. She felt strangely relieved. Up until this moment, some part of her had feared that Zaron had just been trying to pacify her with promises of peaceful settlement. But he’d told her the truth—or at least the same truth that the Krinar had communicated to the developed nations’ leaders. The visitors’ real intentions had yet to be determined, especially in light of their secret blood-drinking tendencies, but Emily felt better nonetheless.

Next to her, Amber was watching the news with an expression of stunned disbelief.

“Aliens?” She turned to face Emily. “They’re kidding about this, right? It’s some kind of super-early Halloween trick?”

“I don’t think so,” Emily said. Amber was her best friend—they’d been inseparable since freshman year of college—but for some reason, Emily was reluctant to discuss Zaron with her. She wanted to think it was because she was bone-tired from the trip, but deep inside, she knew the truth.

She didn’t want to talk to her best friend about her captivity because she felt raw and shredded, torn up by the knowledge that she’d never see Zaron again. Going over the whole story would be like ripping stitches out of a still-bleeding wound, and Emily didn’t know if she could bear it—not yet, at least.

“Oh, come on. Aliens?” Amber jumped up and began to pace. “Fucking aliens? There’s no way, just no way. It has to be a prank—or maybe they’re confused, and it’s really the North Koreans or the Chinese trying some kind of new weapon. Or maybe it’s one of those hacktivist groups. Maybe they got into NASA’s computers and are making them think they’re seeing aliens. Or maybe…” She went on and on, coming up with ever more creative alternatives while Emily petted George and listened, too tired and dispirited to do anything else.

Finally, after what seemed like a half hour, Amber realized Emily didn’t share her shock and disbelief.

“You don’t seem surprised by this,” she said, her auburn eyebrows drawing together as she stopped in front of Emily. “Why is that? Did you hear something on the way?”

“I…” As much as Emily didn’t want to talk about her trip, she didn’t want to lie either. “Sort of,” she hedged, stroking George’s soft fur.

“Sort of? What does that mean?”

Emily let out a sigh. She should’ve known Amber wouldn’t just let it drop. With her often-dreamy gaze and bohemian sense of style, Emily’s friend might’ve looked like an absentminded artist, but she was as sharp as any detective. It never paid to underestimate Amber—especially since she knew Emily so well.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” Emily asked, though she knew the futility of her request. “I’m really tired after the trip and—”

“What? No, of course not! You disappear in Costa Rica for two weeks; then you come back, and there’s a freaking alien invasion that you don’t seem surprised by?” Amber sat down and folded her arms across her chest. “Spill. Now. You don’t have a job, so you can sleep in tomorrow.”

“Okay, fine.” It had been worth a try. Taking a deep breath, Emily launched into her story, beginning with her fall in the jungle. Amber listened in open-mouthed shock, her hazel gaze trained on Emily’s face in horrified fascination. As Emily got to the part where she met Zaron for the first time, the TV began broadcasting just-released images of the Krinar ambassador—a tall, dark-haired man who was as strikingly beautiful as her captor. According to the government officials, he went by the name of Arus.

Amber’s attention shifted to the TV. “Holy fuck,” she breathed, staring at the photographs on the screen. “Did your Zaron look like this Arus?”

Emily nodded. “Pretty much.” Zaron’s face was a little leaner, his lips fuller and more sensuous than the ambassador’s, but the flawless symmetry of his bone structure and the bronze smoothness of his skin were the same. “I met a Krinar woman too, and she had a similar darker coloring.”

“You met two aliens?” Amber forgot about the broadcast, all her focus on Emily again. “Oh my God, tell me more!”

Rubbing George behind the ears, Emily continued with her story. She told Amber how Zaron had detained her for seventeen days and how intelligent all of their technology seemed to be. She described his physical appearance and incredible strength, detailed some of their conversations about Krina, and even touched on Zaron’s tragic loss of his mate. The only thing she couldn’t bring herself to say was how close she’d gotten to her captor during those seventeen days, but as it turned out, she didn’t need to.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” Amber said when Emily stopped to catch her breath. Her voice was flat. “You had sex with that alien.”

Emily felt heat creep up her neck. To cover up her discomfort, she lifted George to her chest and cuddled him closer. “Why do you say that?” she asked, hoping she didn’t look as flushed as she felt.

Amber cocked her head to the side. “Because I’m not an idiot, that’s why. The way you talk about him, the way you practically glow as you describe him… I’ve never seen you like that, not even when you were first dating Jason. You’re a beautiful girl, and if these Krinar are indeed as human-like as you describe, it’s not a stretch to imagine that two attractive people—well, one human and one not-quite-human—might hook up when forced to live in close proximity.”

Emily didn’t say anything, so Amber reached over and took George from her, placing the cat on her own lap. “You know I’m not going to drop this, so tell me. Did you sleep with this Zaron?”

George let out an unhappy meow and jumped off Amber’s lap. Distracted, Emily bent down to retrieve her cat, but he stalked off toward the kitchen, tail raised, apparently displeased with all humans.

“Emily…” Amber’s tone held a warning note.

“All right, all right.” A determined Amber was hard to resist under normal circumstances, but when Emily was exhausted and heartsick, it was all but impossible. “Yes, we slept together, and before you ask, yes, he has all the same equipment as a human male. Happy now?” Despite her attempt to maintain her composure, Emily’s voice sounded brittle, like she was on the verge of crying.

“Emily, hon, that’s not why I brought it up.” Amber was frowning now. “I mean, yes, I’m obviously curious, but I asked because I’m worried about you. Nobody knows anything about these visitors, and this man—this alien who held you captive—healed you with their technology, and then you entered into a sexual relationship with him. You understand how crazy and dangerous that is, right? At the very least, you should get yourself checked out by a doctor, or—”

“No.” Emily jumped up, horrified. “That’s the last thing I need. They’d want to study me, and—no. Just no.”

“But—”

“No. No way. Amber…” Emily gave her friend an imploring look. “You can’t tell anyone what I just told you, okay? I don’t want people knowing what happened to me.”

“Well, obviously, I’m not going to go running to the media.” Amber rose to her feet. She was two inches shorter than Emily and had a thinner build, but her outsized personality always made her seem bigger. “What do you think I am, a complete idiot?”

“No, of course not.” Emily ran a weary hand through her hair. “But I don’t want anyone to know, not even your parents or your sister. Can you do that for me?” When Amber hesitated, she added, “Please. It’s really important.”

“Okay.” Amber blew out an audible breath. “I won’t tell anyone. But can you please promise me something?” Her hazel eyes were somber. “Go see a doctor, just for a regular checkup. You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to, but at least this way, you’ll know if you’re okay—physically, I mean.”

“Amber…” Emily sighed. “If he’d wanted to harm me, he wouldn’t have healed me. I’m perfectly fine—healthier than ever, actually.”

“He might not have harmed you on purpose, but what if you picked up something that could make you sick later, or cause you to infect others?” Amber said, and Emily realized that her friend was purposefully maintaining some extra distance between them. “Europeans all but wiped out Native Americans with their diseases. Even if the Krinar don’t plan to kill us, their germs could. Our immune systems aren’t equipped to deal with extraterrestrial flu, you know.”

Emily stared at her, struck by the thought. Then her brain started working, and she shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s a valid concern, but I don’t think Zaron’s people would’ve come here if there was any danger of infecting us. They’ve been visiting Earth and walking among us for thousands of years. If we were going to catch something from them, it would’ve happened already. I think their medical technology is such that they can prevent this from happening.”

“Okay, that may be true,” Amber conceded, looking marginally relieved. “But I’m still worried about you, Emily. Are you really okay? I mean, after that fall and everything…”

“Yes, of course.” Emily forced herself to smile. “I’m just tired from the trip. I think it’s best if I grab George and go home. It’s getting late, and I have to stop by a grocery store so I have breakfast tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re welcome to crash here. I have that futon—”

“What?” Emily laughed. “No, thank you. I can walk five blocks to my own place. I’m not that tired.”

“Okay,” Amber said. “But call me when you get home, all right?”

“I will—if I can get through.” Emily went into the kitchen, with Amber following her. She found George on the windowsill, his tail swishing as he stared at the street below. Emily picked up the cat and carried him back into the living room to put him in his crate. Then she grabbed her backpack and headed toward the door.

“Emily, wait,” Amber said when Emily was about to step out of the apartment.

Emily turned to face her. “What is it?”

“Do you think…” Amber’s voice wavered. “Do you think it’s true what they said on the news about their intentions? Are they peaceful people?”

Emily froze. When she’d described Zaron to her friend, she’d purposefully omitted any mention of his predatory traits and the Krinar’s possible vampirism. There was no need to scare Amber when all she had were her suspicions. Besides, even if the Krinar drank human blood, that didn’t mean they were out to destroy humanity—or so Emily hoped.

“I think what they said on the news is true,” she said after a moment. “At least it dovetails with what Zaron told me. If they’re lying, they’re consistent about it, but I don’t know why they would want to deceive us. I don’t know much about their weapons, but judging by everything I’ve seen in Zaron’s house, I don’t think we’d stand much of a chance if they decided to destroy us. And if they did decide that, I don’t know why they’d bother with this ambassador charade.” Unless it was to keep humans calm while they set up their blood farms—but Emily kept that possibility to herself.

“Right, that makes sense,” Amber said, though she looked pale again. “But do you think, just in case, we should get out of the city? Maybe go to my parents in Connecticut? In the movies, they always hit the major cities first, and here we are, smack dab in the center of Manhattan.”

Emily chewed on her lip. How could she reassure Amber when she felt so uneasy herself? “Look, if you’re worried,” she said, “you should probably leave. I’m sure your parents would love to see you.”

Amber frowned. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Emily said. “I just got back, and I really don’t want to go anywhere again. The traffic must be insane. Besides, if the Krinar plan to level Manhattan, we’ve got bigger problems.”

“All right, it’s your call,” Amber said. “I’m going to try to reach my parents and see how they’re doing. Let me know if you change your mind and want to come home with me.”

“I will,” Emily said. “It’ll be okay, though. Like the President said, we just need to stay calm, and everything will be fine.”

Gripping George’s carrier tighter, she opened the door and headed out.

Everything wasn’t fine, though—something Emily realized as soon as she left Amber’s apartment. The panic on the streets was tangible, the pedestrians and bicyclists frantically rushing about while the cars stood bumper to bumper. The drivers were honking and cursing, and a few frazzled-looking policemen were blowing their whistles in a futile attempt to clear the congestion. The usual noise of the city had been amplified tenfold, and Emily’s head pounded with agony as she made her way through the crowded sidewalks.

“Just one more block,” she told George, whose displeased meows were adding to the cacophony. “We’re almost home.”

Finally, she got to her building. Like Amber’s, it was old and rundown, with no elevator in sight. Though Emily had been able to afford a studio in one of the newer high-rises, she’d been focused on saving money and investing it for retirement—a goal that seemed laughable at the moment.

At least her studio was on the second floor, not fourth.

“Here you go, Georgie,” she crooned when she got into her apartment. Putting down her backpack, she opened the crate and let the cat jump out. “Home, sweet home.”

Tail swishing, George stalked off to inspect his territory, and Emily plopped down on the plush armchair that was her studio’s equivalent of a couch. She felt so drained she could barely think, but she knew she had to get food for tomorrow. Forcing herself to get up, she grabbed her keys and wallet from the backpack, slipped them into the back pocket of her shorts, and went down to the small grocery store on the next block over.

The owner was already locking up when she got there.

“Wait, please,” Emily begged, grabbing the door handle just as he started to pull down the metal shutters. “Please, I just need to buy a few things. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

The white-haired man hesitated for a moment, then slid up the shutters and unlocked the glass door. “Fine, but hurry,” he said gruffly, pushing the door open. “I have to get home to Queens, and it’s madness out there.”

“No problem, thank you!” Emily was already running down the aisles with a basket, throwing in all the necessities, plus extra food for George. It took her less than five minutes to get everything, but by the time she unloaded her haul at the counter, the store owner was looking impatient.

“I said to hurry,” he grumbled as he rang up her purchases.

Pushing her tiredness aside, Emily gave him her brightest smile. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. Have a safe trip home!”

Grabbing her purchases, she hurried out of the store, but before she made it half a block, something heavy plowed into her, knocking her down and sending her bags flying. She landed on her hands and knees, the hard asphalt scraping the skin off her palms as she slid forward, and in the next moment, she felt something tugging at her back pocket.

“Hey!” she yelled, jumping up and turning, but the teenage boy was already sprinting away, her wallet clutched in his hand.

“Stop him!” Emily started to run after the thief, but he’d already disappeared into the crowd and no one was paying attention to her, not even the cops blowing their whistles at the traffic.

Shaking, Emily stopped and headed back to pick up her purchases. The rushing pedestrians had already stepped on some of her food, so she scrambled to recover as much as she could, stuffing the groceries back into the bags with shaking hands. Luckily, she hadn’t bought anything in a glass jar, so most of the products had survived. Emily herself, however, felt like she might shatter at any moment. Her scraped palms were stinging and bleeding, and her heart was pounding in her throat, the excess of adrenaline combining with her headache to make her feel physically ill.

She didn’t know how she made it back to her apartment, but somehow she found herself by her door, keys in hand. She wondered vaguely how they’d managed to stay in her pocket, but she had them, and that was all that mattered.

Entering the apartment, Emily locked the door, washed her bloodied hands, put the groceries away, and poured dry cat foot into George’s bowl. She held it together until she stepped into the shower, but the moment she felt the hot water spray on her skin, all remnants of strength deserted her.

Sinking down to the floor, Emily wrapped her arms around her knees and cried.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“Good evening, folks. Our show tonight marks the seven-week anniversary of K-Day, and amazingly enough, we haven’t been vaporized yet,” the late-night TV talk show host said as Emily stared listlessly at the screen. “For those of you who have been living under a rock, seven weeks ago today, the Krinar—or the Ks, as they’re colloquially known—arrived and turned our world upside down. To celebrate that momentous occasion, today we have a special guest, Dr. Edmonds, who’s here to tell us the latest theories on the visitors’ biology.”

“Thank you, James,” the guest said, sitting up straighter as the camera swung toward him. “Glad to be here, and glad to see so many of you stayed in the city and came out to the studio today. You’re all very brave—or very stupid.”

The audience laughed and clapped in response.

“Now,” Edmonds continued, “as all of you know, it is suspected that the Krinar may have a significantly longer lifespan, as well as greater speed and strength. James, if you don’t mind putting on that video…”

The image changed to show a grainy smartphone recording of a blurringly fast fight punctuated by flashes of gunfire and explosions. Without slowing the recording, it was impossible to figure out what was going on, but Emily, like everyone in the audience, already knew what the video was about.

The recording was of a dark alley in Riyadh where a band of thirty-three Saudis, armed with grenades and automatic assault rifles, had attacked a small Krinar delegation some two weeks earlier. They’d managed to injure the six unarmed Ks, and that’s when things had gotten hairy. The wounds hadn’t prevented the visitors from ripping the Saudis to pieces—literally in some cases. The blurring speed with which they’d moved and their incredible strength—one K had thrown two men sixty feet into the air, one with each hand—had stunned the human population, as did the sheer savagery of the fight.

As Emily had sensed during her time with Zaron, the Ks had a terrifying penchant for violence.

The video had made her sick when she’d first seen it, and she wasn’t the only one. The exodus out of the major cities—the reverse migration that had begun on K-Day—had picked up speed in the last two weeks, with traffic jams again threatening to choke all travel. For some reason, people thought they’d be safer in small towns and rural areas, and they fled the cities despite the UN announcing the Coexistence Treaty last month.

“Oh, please,” Amber had snorted when Emily had spoken to her on Skype after the announcement. She’d left the city the day after Emily’s return and was staying with her parents in Connecticut. “Everyone knows that treaty is a sham. The UN just tucked their tails between their legs and rolled over, throat bared. You heard what they’re saying about the nukes, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Emily had said. The Internet was rife with rumors that China had tried to launch a rocket carrying a nuclear weapon at one of the Krinar ships, and the aliens had retaliated by vaporizing all of Earth’s nuclear arsenal. Nobody knew if that was actually true—the government officials were denying everything—but every couple of days, some anonymous source would pop up with new details, and the story would get new legs.

Conspiracy theorists were having a field day.

“So yeah, they don’t have any weapons left now, so they just gave in,” Amber had continued in disgust. “Cowards.”

“Well, what else are they supposed to do? Go to war with the Ks?” Emily had asked, but Amber hadn’t wanted to listen to reason. It was easier to think of the government leaders as cowards than to accept the scary truth that the Krinar were so technologically superior that any military resistance was futile.

Not that people didn’t try to resist on an individual level. The vicious fight with the Saudis was one of many such skirmishes that were occurring all over the world as people came into contact with the invaders. Nobody was happy that the aliens were planning to build their colonies on Earth for some unknown purpose, and many groups were downright hostile. Fights with the invaders kept breaking out in various parts of the globe, and with each one, the humans learned just how dangerous and violent the Krinar truly were. Though the visitors’ intentions were supposedly peaceful, the death toll attributed to the Krinar was in the hundreds, and there was no sign that the violence would abate any time soon.

The situation was further exacerbated by the doomsday-like panic that kept sweeping through the population as different stories, some true, some false, circulated on the net. The most recent rumor—which Emily suspected might actually be true—was that the Krinar were planning to shut down major industrial farms and force meat and dairy producers to switch to growing fruits and vegetables. As a result of that rumor, many had begun hoarding animal products, and the prices for chicken, beef, and milk were skyrocketing, leading to more hoarding and an even greater incidence of looting.

And that was the biggest problem of all: the governments’ inability to control and police their panicked citizens. Emily’s mugging on K-Day had been just the start of an unprecedented crime wave that had swept cities and towns all over the globe. New York, which had lost over half of its population, was now dangerous enough that Emily no longer ventured out of her apartment after dark. However, it was nothing compared to places like Moscow, Beijing, and Johannesburg. It was still possible to buy a few groceries in Manhattan, and most local businesses, including banks and media companies, continued to function, but those other cities had descended into chaos. Some pundit had dubbed the weeks following the Ks’ arrival “the Great Panic,” and the name had stuck.

It wasn’t the end of the world like some had predicted, but in some places, it was close.

While the vast majority of the population obsessed about the invaders, Emily watched the news with a disinterest that bordered on depression. She knew she should care, and sometimes she considered going to the authorities with the little extra knowledge she had, but most days, she felt too listless to do more than get out of bed, take care of George, and fill out a couple of job applications. Not that anyone was actually hiring in this climate. Stocks, bonds, and other securities had crashed immediately after K-Day, and every new story about the invaders caused the markets to oscillate wildly, resulting in a volatility that far exceeded the worst months of the Great Recession. Trillions of dollars in invested funds had been lost in fear-driven selling, and Emily personally knew at least ten hedge funds that had collapsed in recent weeks, unable to sustain the heavy losses. There was no refuge anywhere, not even in AAA-rated government bonds—typically the safest of all investments. When one didn’t know whether the United States would exist next month, it didn’t matter that something was backed by the full faith and credit of the US government.

Emily’s own investment portfolio, already decimated by the recession, was now pitifully tiny, and her savings were shrinking at an alarming rate. Or at least it was a rate that would’ve alarmed the old Emily, the one who didn’t feel so empty inside. The Emily who had returned from Costa Rica couldn’t work up the energy to care about any of it—simply existing took everything she had.

Her longing for Zaron was like a wound that refused to heal. No matter what she did, she was cognizant of missing him—his smile, his laugh, his touch… even the predatory intensity that had scared her at times. The horrifying stories on the news should’ve made her hate him—hate all Krinar—but all she could think of was the way he’d held her at night and how she’d felt closer to him than to any man she’d known.

She’d tried to go out once. Two of her girlfriends from work had stayed in the city, and the three of them had gone bar-hopping the weekend before the crime wave had gotten really bad. Emily had laughed and flirted with the men who’d hit on her, but all of them had left her cold, and she’d returned home alone, feeling even emptier than before.

If she could’ve gotten into a time machine and gone back to the moment when Zaron had asked her to stay, Emily would’ve made a different decision. Maybe her feelings for Zaron were a result of her captivity, but that didn’t make them any less real. Her leaving hadn’t been a rational move; Emily realized that now. All her rationalizations had been an attempt to justify something irrational, to suppress and ignore the fear she’d carried with her since her parents’ deaths.

She’d been so afraid that Zaron would leave her that she’d pushed him away—just as she’d done with Jason.

Groaning, Emily turned off the TV and got up to pace around her tiny studio. Though she’d gone out to buy groceries just a few hours ago, she was beginning to feel cooped up and claustrophobic. She wanted to go for a run, to do something to force away the depression that sucked all life out of her, but it was too dangerous to go out at this time of night. To make matters worse, thinking of going outside reminded her of how much she’d enjoyed the lush nature of Costa Rica during her walks with Zaron through the jungle.

How much they’d enjoyed it together.

A sharper ache pierced her chest at the memories, and scorching tears stung her eyes. To combat the urge to cry, Emily pulled out her yoga mat and began doing sit-ups. It wasn’t the same as a run outside, but it was better than nothing—and it was certainly better than another crying fit in the shower. She could get through this; she would get through this.

She was a survivor, and she was determined.

It was on her twenty-seventh sit-up that an idea came to Emily. She didn’t have any way of reaching Zaron—he hadn’t left her an email or a phone number or whatever the Krinar used—but she did know the approximate location of his house. Could she do it? Could she swallow her pride and beg him to take her back? Yes, there was a risk that he wouldn’t want her, that he’d found someone else during this time, and yes, they’d have only a few years together before Emily started to age, but weren’t a few years better than nothing?

Wasn’t it better to know happiness, even if just for a short while, than to go through life experiencing only this draining loneliness?

Suddenly energized, Emily jumped up from the mat and ran to her computer. Civilian air travel was allowed again, and though plane tickets had skyrocketed in price due to overwhelming demand, there was nothing preventing Emily from using her remaining savings to buy a one-way ticket to Costa Rica.

To hell with her fear and pride. She was going to hop in that time machine and try to undo her mistake.

She was entering her payment information on the United Airlines’ website when her doorbell rang. Puzzled, Emily walked over to the door to look through the peephole, and her heart flew into her throat.

Two men dressed in suits were standing on the other side of her door. One was of average height and lean, while the other one was nearly as wide as he was tall.

“Yes?” Emily called out without reaching for the lock. Her palms were sweating, her stomach tight with a sickening premonition. “How may I help you?”

“Miss Ross, I’m Agent Wolfe, and this is Agent Janson,” the lean man said, holding up an official-looking badge. “We’re from the Department of Homeland Security. If you don’t mind, we’d like to talk to you about a call you made to the United States Embassy in Costa Rica several days prior to K-Day.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The shari plants were adapting well to the Costa Rican soil. The roots were thick and healthy, and the scan showed that within a few months, they would flower and bear fruit. In general, it appeared that Zaron had chosen this Center’s location well. The climate was pleasant, and the soil welcoming. As Zaron had hoped, upon arrival, the Council had decided to use this Center as their primary base of operations. They named it Lenkarda, meaning “a triumphant start.” They also praised Zaron and his team for the other Centers’ locations. This should’ve pleased Zaron, but all he felt was a kind of bleak indifference—the same dull numbness that had gripped him since Emily’s departure.

Leaving the farming area of the developing Center, he went back to his house. Even moving at his natural speed, it took him over an hour to get home on foot, but Zaron didn’t mind. He could’ve relocated closer to Lenkarda, but he liked the isolation. Being around other Krinar was uncomfortable, almost painful these days. On the rare occasions when the numbness gripping him receded, he felt raw inside, like a tree stripped of its protective bark, and interacting with people seemed to make it worse.

Losing Emily was as devastating as he’d feared it would be.

Entering the house, Zaron took a shower and went into Emily’s room. Her scent still lingered there, in the sheets that he’d forbidden his house to change. He lay down and breathed it in, closing his eyes to pretend that she was still with him, that if he reached out, he could touch her… hold her.

But of course he couldn’t. Not because she was far away—a couple of thousand miles meant nothing to the Krinar—but because he’d made her a promise.

“You can get her back, you know,” Ellet had said last week, dangling the temptation in front of him again. “Just go to New York and bring her back. Who knows? Maybe she’d be glad to see you. You know what the situation in those human cities is like. Do you really want her living there?”

Zaron had snapped at his colleague, telling her to mind her own business, but a similar thought had occurred to him more than once—on a nightly basis, in fact. He missed Emily so acutely that he sometimes thought he’d go mad from the intense longing. In some ways, it was even worse than when Larita had died. Then, he’d had no choice but to accept that his mate was gone, that he’d lost her forever, but with Emily, the knowledge that he could have her back taunted him, made him want to forget all about his principles and the promises he’d made.

He could have her—all he had to do was go against her wishes and deprive her of her freedom.

Pushing the thought away, Zaron closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. To his annoyance, the sleep wouldn’t come. He tossed and turned for a solid hour before giving up. Getting up, he touched his wrist computer and said, “Show her to me.”

A three-dimensional image of Emily’s apartment appeared in front of him. The day after she left, Zaron had accessed the camera on her laptop, telling himself that, given the humans’ panicked reaction to the Krinar arrival, he needed to make sure Emily got home safely. It was his responsibility to her; after all, he’d been the reason she couldn’t return to New York earlier.

To his relief, she’d been in her apartment that evening, watching TV with a gray feline curled up on her lap. It was her cat George, Zaron had realized, hungrily taking in the image. After a few minutes, he’d forced himself to turn off the recording, telling himself that he had to leave her alone, but the next day, he’d accessed the camera again and watched Emily eat a sandwich while reading a book. The day after that, she’d been out, and he’d been frantic, worrying that something had happened to her, but she’d come home after an hour, and he’d relaxed again. Enough, he’d told himself then, but the computer kept luring him back, and every few days, he’d slip up and watch her as she slept, ate, played with her cat, or searched for jobs on the human Internet. It was a terrible invasion of her privacy, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Seeing her on those recordings was the only thing that brought Zaron joy these days.

So now he greedily studied the image in front of him, searching for signs that Emily was home. Sometimes she was in the bathroom, and he wouldn’t see her right away, but she always came back into the main room after a few minutes. Emily’s entire apartment was that room, so if she was home, Zaron would see her soon enough.

But he didn’t see her. Only her cat was there, sitting on the floor and licking its paw, then swiping it over its furry face. Zaron had to admit the animal’s antics were fascinating, and on a different day, he would’ve enjoyed the show, but Emily’s absence was making him uneasy. It was already late, and she’d stopped going out in the evening in recent weeks—likely because of the growing crime rate in her city. So where could she be? What could she be doing?

He waited for an hour and a half, his unease growing with every second, but she still didn’t come home.

Zaron checked the time. It was well after midnight in New York. There was no reason for Emily to leave her apartment so late. She had to know it was dangerous for a young woman to wander around the city on her own these days.

Unless… unless she wasn’t on her own.

Everything inside Zaron jolted at the thought, the fury like a blast of fire through his veins. He’d known Emily would find a mate eventually—she was far too smart and beautiful not to—but there was a world of difference between knowing something and confronting it. Emily, his Emily, might be with another man at this very moment, and Zaron couldn’t bear it. He pictured her sleeping in some human male’s embrace, and his fists clenched with the urge to kill the man, to rip him into pieces with his bare hands. It didn’t matter that Zaron had let Emily go; the ancient territorial instinct within him insisted that she was his—that she would always be his.

His rage was so strong he was barely cognizant of issuing the order to his computer. It was only when Emily’s texts and emails appeared on the three-dimensional image in front of him that Zaron realized how insane he was acting. Still, he couldn’t make himself stop. He read through all of her recent communications, searching for any clue as to where she might be and with whom, but to his disappointment, there was nothing there—no agreed-upon assignations, not even a hint of flirtation.

Zaron’s jealousy gave way to worry.

“Track her cell phone,” he said sharply, and his computer obeyed, pinging off the human satellites to triangulate the GPS signal.

But there was no signal—at least none that his computer could detect.

Frowning, Zaron tried again. And again.

Nothing.

It was as if Emily’s phone had vanished.

“Access her laptop,” Zaron ordered his computer. “Search her browser history.”

And it was there, in Emily’s browser, that Zaron saw it: a partially finished order for a one-way plane ticket to Costa Rica.

His pulse stopped for a second, then roared back to life, his heart slamming into his ribcage.

Emily was returning.

She was coming back to him.

For a second, the elation was almost blinding, but then Zaron realized that Emily hadn’t completed the order.

She’d left before buying the ticket, and he was no closer to figuring out where she was and what had happened to her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“I’ve already told you everything I know,” Emily said, unable to contain her frustration. They’d been interrogating her in this small, stuffy room for hours, and she could feel the walls starting to close in on her. She tried to manage her claustrophobia by taking deep breaths, but nothing was helping. To make matters worse, she was so tired it took all her energy just to remain upright in her hard metal chair. What time was it now? Two in the morning? Three? There was no clock on the wall, and they’d taken away her cell phone. She’d always thought government employees worked nine to five, but that clearly wasn’t the case with Homeland Security—or at least with this particular branch.

Emily strongly suspected the agents who came to her house weren’t run-of-the-mill border patrol.

“You’ve hardly told us anything, Miss Ross,” Agent Wolfe said, his narrow face expressionless. “You fell, you were saved by a Krinar who then detained you for two and a half weeks, and you returned home on K-Day. Do you honestly expect us to believe that this is the whole story?”

“It is the whole story,” Emily said wearily. “Yes, I knew the invasion was coming—that’s why I called the embassy—but that’s it. I don’t know anything else about their plans. I haven’t kept in touch with Zaron. The moment he released me, I went back home. I don’t know anything about their weapons, and I already described to you what I saw of their technology—which wasn’t much, as all of it was inside a residential house.”

“Yet this Zaron brought you back from the brink of death with medical technology he had inside that house,” Agent Janson said, his double chin quivering with each word. “Healed your broken spine, you said?”

“Yes.” Emily regretted telling them about that, but when they’d first begun questioning her, she’d been too intimidated to come up with a plausible lie. As soon as she’d opened her door, they’d marched her downstairs, stuffed her into a black car, and brought her to this rundown warehouse in Queens—or rather, the facility that was in the basement of said warehouse. Emily had barely had time to grab her wallet, keys, and phone—items they’d confiscated before putting her in this room and questioning her as though she were a terrorist.

At least she’d had the presence of mind not to say anything about the sexual nature of her relationship with Zaron and her suspicions about the Krinar being a vampiric species. The latter omission was because she still wasn’t sure she was right, and because she feared what would happen if those types of rumors began circulating. Would the panic on the streets and the guerrilla attacks on the Krinar get worse? Could an actual war break out?

She couldn’t bear it if she were somehow responsible for more violence. This “peaceful” invasion was already far too bloody.

“Miss Ross…” Agent Wolfe leaned in. “You’re not helping your case by being evasive. It’s obvious that you know more than you’re letting on. You’ve spent two and a half weeks with one of them. You need to tell us everything you’ve seen and heard—every detail, no matter how small. You might not think it’s significant, but it will help us form a more complete picture of the enemy.”

“The enemy? I thought we were at peace,” Emily said, too tired to conceal her sarcasm. “Isn’t that what the Coexistence Treaty is all about?”

Janson folded his arms, resting them on the mountainous mound of his stomach. “Don’t be naïve, Miss Ross. The Krinar are not our friends, nor will they ever be while we know next to nothing about them. Why are they here? What do they want from us? We don’t know, and we won’t until they deign to tell us. But you may know something, and if you do, it’s your duty as an American citizen—as a human citizen—to tell us.”

“I don’t know anything more than what I’ve already told you,” Emily said for the fifteenth time. The walls seemed to be creeping closer with each second, and she was finding it hard to breathe. If they didn’t let her out of this room soon, she’d go insane. “You have the whole story.”

“No,” Wolfe said. “We don’t. But if you’d rather not talk to us tonight, that’s fine. We’ll continue this tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll see if we can’t get answers some other way.” He got up and turned to the other agent. “Janson, please take Miss Ross to Medical. Let’s see if this alien healing left any traces.”

“Wait, no. You can’t do that,” Emily said, drawing back when Janson stood up and stepped toward her. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought she might be sick. “I’m not consenting to this. I want a lawyer.”

But Janson just wrapped his thick fingers around her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go,” he said, his palm damp and clammy on her skin. “It’s time we learned more about your ordeal.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“You want me to find a human girl?” Korum frowned, his unusual golden-colored eyes narrowed. The Councilor seemed equal parts puzzled and displeased by Zaron’s request. “Why?”

“Because she’s mine, and I want her back,” Zaron said. There was no time to play games and pretend his request was anything other than a personal favor. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Every second that he couldn’t locate Emily felt like an hour, the fear inside him growing uncontrollably. “I saved her when she got hurt, and she stayed with me for a while,” he explained. “However, I made the mistake of letting her go back to New York, and something’s happened to her. I can’t find her anywhere.”

Korum’s frown deepened. “So how do you expect me to find her?”

“Through the nanocytes in her body,” Zaron said. The idea had come to him early in the morning, and he’d instantly requested an in-person meeting with the Councilor. “I learned that your company designed the jansha device I used to heal her. I don’t have the code to activate the tracking feature on the nanocytes, but I know there is such a feature. Isn’t there?”

“There is,” Korum confirmed. “All nanocytes have a unique signature that can be detected. But I’d need to see the jansha to figure out which specific batch of nanocytes was used on her.”

“Here it is.” Zaron extended his hand and opened his palm to show the small, tubular healing device. “I figured you might need it.”

“All right,” Korum said, taking the device from Zaron. “I’ll look into this for you. It might take a few days, so—”

“No,” Zaron said sharply, his muscles tensing with a surge of fury. “I don’t have a few days.”

“Excuse me?” Korum’s gaze hardened.

“It’s important,” Zaron said, forcing himself to moderate his tone. He couldn’t afford to antagonize the one person who could help him. “She’s important.”

“More important than my duties on the Council and the designs I’m working on?” Korum’s nostrils flared. “I understand that you want your human pet back, but—”

“She’s my charl.” Zaron held Korum’s icy gaze, refusing to back down. The notoriously ruthless Councilor wasn’t someone to be crossed, but there was nothing Zaron wouldn’t do to get Emily back.

He’d challenge Korum to the Arena if he had to.

“Your charl?” Some of the cold anger left Korum’s voice. “Like Arus’s Delia?”

“Yes.” Zaron didn’t see the need to explain that Emily wasn’t his charl yet. She would become one as soon as he found her; he’d decided that last night. She’d chosen to come back to him—that was what that half-finished ticket purchase was about—but even if she still had some reservations about belonging to him, Zaron would overcome them.

Once he had Emily, he would never let her go again.

“I see.” A tinge of amusement appeared in Korum’s gaze. “I didn’t realize you and Arus had so much in common. I’ll never understand a charl’s appeal, but if you want a human, I guess it’s your choice.”

Zaron did his best to conceal his relief. “So you’ll help me? Today?”

“Yes, I will,” Korum said. “Come back in two hours. I should have her location by then.”

The two hours crawled by at a glacial pace. To distract himself, Zaron went to the lake and swam fifty laps, then ran twenty miles through the jungle. Despite not sleeping at all last night, he felt wired, his body buzzing with violent energy.

If he came across any human guerrilla fighters, they’d be in trouble.

But Zaron didn’t come across anyone, and exactly two hours after the conversation, he was back at the Council meeting hall in Lenkarda.

Korum was waiting for him in front of a three-dimensional floating image.

“She’s in there,” he said without preliminaries, pointing at a crumbling warehouse on a trash-littered street. “It’s a building in a semi-abandoned industrial area of Queens, one of the New York City boroughs. I did some digging on it for you. It turns out the building is owned by the US government. They used several shell corporations to conceal that fact, which makes me think it’s not one of their official locations.”

“A government building?” Zaron frowned at the image. “Why would she be there?”

“I don’t know,” Korum said. “Maybe she decided to talk to them about you, tell them what she’s learned during her time with you. How long did you keep her?”

“About two and a half weeks. But she’s only seen our most basic home technology, so I doubt she can tell them anything useful.”

“You shouldn’t have shown her even that,” Korum said, and the image winked out of existence. “The non-disclosure mandate is no longer in place, but we’re still bound by the non-interference mandate. We can’t give or show them anything that would alter the course of their natural technological development. In general, it’s a problem that the government has her. The nanocytes are inactive, but she still has them in her body, and that’s not a technology we’re going to be sharing with the humans any time soon.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t be a problem for long,” Zaron said. “I’m going to get her back.” He doubted the humans had sufficiently advanced technology to do anything with the nanocytes, but he didn’t argue.

He had Emily’s location, and that was all that mattered.

Korum gave him a hard look. “You know you can’t just show up and drag her out of there. They might have security measures in place that aren’t apparent from the outside. If this really is some kind of government facility, you could cause a major interplanetary incident if you storm in and get hurt.”

“So what do you suggest?” Zaron asked, suppressing a flare of impatience. Now that he knew where Emily was, he couldn’t wait to get to her.

“Arus can put in a request for you through the proper diplomatic channels,” Korum said. “It’ll probably take some time, but—”

“No.” Zaron’s rejection was instinctive, a gut feeling born of his need to have Emily back that very instant, but when he saw Korum’s expression, he knew he’d have to provide a reasonable explanation. “If we ask for her, they’ll think she’s important,” he said. “They might deny that they have her or delay returning her to me so they could question her. It would be much easier if I went there by myself and retrieved her. If I break in like a human burglar, they’ll never know that a Krinar was involved, so—”

“No.” It was Korum’s turn to interrupt. “That’s not the way to handle it. If this Emily of yours told them everything, they might expect us to come for her. You can’t go in unarmed and unprepared. If you really can’t wait, I’ll help you. I have a couple of designs I’ve been itching to test out.”

The Councilor explained the plan, his golden eyes gleaming, and as he spoke, Zaron felt the knot of tension in his chest start to loosen.

One way or another, he was going to get Emily back.

It was time for his angel to come home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Her heart thudding in an erratic rhythm, Emily stared at the white-haired nurse who was getting ready to stick yet another needle into Emily’s arm. The older woman had a kind face that reminded Emily of the actress Betty White, but so far, she’d ignored all of Emily’s entreaties to stop and let her call a lawyer.

The initial round of tests had consisted of them taking several vials of Emily’s blood, X-rays of every part of her body, a CT scan, and an MRI. Afterwards, they’d let Emily pass out for a few hours on a hard cot in a tiny gray room, and she’d woken up feeling like she was suffocating. She’d needed fresh air, needed it so badly she’d felt like she was dying, but instead of letting her out, they’d given her a sedative to keep her calm. She’d floated in a drugged haze for a while, dreaming of Zaron coming to save her, but the drug was starting to wear off and the claustrophobia was back, along with nausea from the sedative and a churning sensation in her empty stomach. Emily had thrown up the coffee and donuts they’d given her a half hour ago, and the hunger intensified the headache throbbing in her temples.

“Don’t do this, please,” Emily begged again as the Betty White lookalike approached her with the syringe. Her tongue felt thick and unwieldy inside her dry mouth. “Please. I’m a US citizen. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The nurse ignored her, her kindly face set in stoic lines. Emily tried to jerk her arm away from the syringe, but the padded handcuff around her wrist kept it in place. Two male nurses had cuffed her to a metal chair after she’d tried to resist the second round of tests, and the restraints had worsened her claustrophobia, making her pulse beat sickeningly fast. She was strapped down as securely as in a mental asylum, unable to get up or get away. Emily had never been a fan of needles, going so far as to avoid getting flu shots, but there was no avoiding this.

She was a prisoner, and there was no escape.

The nurse gripped Emily’s arm to hold it still, and the needle went into her skin, piercing the vein on the inside of her elbow.

“Stop,” Emily moaned, bile rising in her throat as her blood flowed into the vial attached to the syringe. “I’m going to be sick.”

Holding the syringe in place with one hand, the nurse reached for a nearby plastic tray. “Here,” she said, thrusting the empty tray under Emily’s chin. “You can vomit into this if you need to.”

Emily was shaking, her skin covered with cold sweat, but she managed not to throw up. Seeing that the tray was not needed, the nurse put it back. Removing the needle from Emily’s arm, she put a cotton ball on the wound and taped a Band-Aid over it.

“All done for now,” she said. “Sit back and relax. Agent Wolfe and Agent Janson will be in to see you shortly.”

She exited the room without unlocking Emily’s cuffs, and two minutes later, Wolfe and Janson walked into the room. Neither agent batted an eye at seeing Emily restrained in a chair, and she realized that to them, she wasn’t a person.

She was the enemy, and they’d go to any lengths to break her.

“Please take these cuffs off,” she said. It took all her strength to keep her voice steady. She was dizzy, and it felt like all oxygen was leaving the room. “I’m not going to attack you.”

Wolfe gave her a thin-lipped smile. “I’m sure you won’t, but the nurses might need to run a few more tests, so it’s more efficient if we keep them on for now. I’m sure you understand.”

“No, I don’t understand,” Emily said, unable to contain her anger and desperation. “I haven’t committed a crime, but even if I had, there is due process in this country. If you’re going to hold me like this, I demand to see a lawyer, and—”

“Miss Ross, please.” Janson sat down on a chair across from her, his fleshy jowls quivering with the movement. “You’re a smart young woman. I’m sure you know that the Patriot Act gives us a lot of leeway when it comes to threats to national security. You must also know that the Krinar are the biggest threat we’ve ever faced. Since you’re refusing to cooperate with us—”

“I’m cooperating with you!”

“—we have no choice but to keep you here,” Janson continued as if Emily hadn’t spoken. “The preliminary tests show that you were indeed healed by a technology that far exceeds anything we know. Your dental records, for instance…” He droned on, listing everything they’d discovered so far, but Emily was no longer listening.

A humming sound—something resembling the distant buzzing of a beehive—had caught her attention.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out, and the buzzing sound intensified.

“Fuck,” Wolfe said, pulling out his phone and using it as a flashlight. “Janson, you all right?”

But Janson wasn’t paying attention to him. He’d fallen silent and was holding his phone above his head, shining its light straight up at the ceiling.

“What is that?” Wolfe asked, tipping his head back, and Emily followed his gaze.

The ceiling looked like it was shimmering—no, like it was melting.

Wolfe jumped to his feet, pulling his gun out, but it was too late.

A large portion of the ceiling disintegrated, the thick layer of concrete evaporating as if it were made of smoke. Sunlight poured through the opening, blinding Emily for a moment, but then she saw it.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure of a man standing on the edge of the opening.

The bright sunlight from above cast his face into shadows, but there was no mistaking the catlike grace with which he moved.

Stunned, Emily stared at Zaron, fierce elation sweeping through her.

Her alien captor had come for her.

He wanted her back.

“Stop right there!” Janson shouted, raising his gun, but Zaron was already jumping down into the room.

The deafening pop-pop-pop of gunshots filled the air, and Emily stopped breathing, her heart plunging in icy terror. She knew the Krinar were fast and strong, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be hurt or killed. If something happened to Zaron… Before the fear could choke her, she saw that he’d landed on his feet, unharmed.

The seconds that followed were a blur. Zaron moved like a deadly tornado. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, both agents were on the floor, screaming in pain, and Emily watched in paralyzed shock as Zaron lifted Janson by his throat, holding him up with one hand as if the three-hundred-pound man weighed nothing. Janson’s right arm was hanging at an odd angle at his side, but his left hand clawed at Zaron’s fingers in frantic terror, his feet flailing in the air with desperation.

Zaron was literally choking the agent to death.

“Stop!” Emily yelled, horrified. “Zaron, please, stop!”

Her lover froze, and she saw a shudder ripple through his powerful body. His face was turned away, so all she could see was the taut line of his jaw, but she could feel his barely restrained rage. Violence thrummed in the air, dark and toxic, and Emily knew that if she didn’t do something, Zaron would murder these two men.

Like the K in those videos, he’d rip them into pieces.

“Zaron, please.” Swallowing her panic, Emily softened her voice, making it gently cajoling. “Put him down.”

Janson’s struggles were already weakening, his legs kicking with less force, and for a moment, Emily thought Zaron wouldn’t listen to her. But then his fingers loosened, and the agent fell to the floor, audibly gasping for air. Wolfe lay next to him, whimpering, both of his arms bent at unnatural angles.

Nausea rolled through Emily again, but she forced herself to look up at Zaron as he stepped over Janson’s cringing bulk and came toward her, his black gaze burning with something dark and frightening.

“They hurt you.” His voice was thick with rage as he stopped in front of her, and she realized he was looking at the needle marks and bruises on her arms. “Those bastards hurt you.” He was all but shaking with fury, his big hands unsteady as he undid her restraints and pulled her to her feet.

“They just took some blood,” Emily said numbly, but Zaron was already bending down to lift her into his arms. Despite his anger, his grip on her was gentle, his inhuman strength tightly leashed as he held her clasped to his chest.

Engulfed by his warmth and familiar scent, Emily began to shake. Winding her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder, trying to hold back the tears that burned her eyes. She felt both euphoric and overwhelmed, the searing joy of seeing Zaron again battling with the horror of what he’d done.

After nearly two months of agonized longing, she was with the man she loved—an extraterrestrial predator who’d come within a hairbreadth of killing two human beings.

“Hold on,” Zaron said, and Emily felt his muscles bunching. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on his neck, and then they were flying—or so it seemed for a second. Before she could process what was happening, they were on the first floor of the facility, standing on the undissolved portion of the ceiling.

Zaron had jumped up from the basement while holding her, Emily realized dazedly. On any other day, she would’ve marveled at this inhuman feat of athleticism, but that wasn’t what held her attention now.

All around her were bodies—human bodies. Tall and short, fat and skinny, armed and unarmed, they lay on the floor in strange poses, their slack faces illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the now-nonexistent roof.

“Are they…” Emily couldn’t even pronounce the word. Shuddering, she pushed at Zaron’s chest to look up at him. “Zaron, are they—”

“They’re asleep,” Zaron said, tightening his grip on her. “I knocked them out to avoid casualties.”

Emily lay her head on his shoulder and drew in a shaky breath, relief sweeping through her like a tidal wave. She didn’t know if she could’ve lived with herself if the Krinar she loved had turned out to be a mass murderer.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he stepped over a couple of bodies, carrying her in his arms.

“You’ll see,” Zaron said, and she felt his muscles bunch for another superhuman jump.

They landed on the remaining portion of the roof, and Emily felt the warm summer breeze on her skin. Her lungs expanded, drawing in air, and the claustrophobic tension constricting her ribcage melted away, taking her remaining doubts with it.

She was finally back with Zaron.

He had come for her.

“How did you find me?” she asked, pulling back to meet his gaze, and her pulse jumped at the look in his eyes.

Zaron was staring at her with uncompromising possessiveness, with a hunger so intense it made her insides turn to mush.

“The nanocytes used to heal you,” he said, and it took Emily a second to realize he was answering her question. “I was able to track them.”

“Oh.” Unease fluttered through her, but before she could question Zaron further, he turned to the left, holding her, and she saw something odd.

On the remaining roof of the warehouse was a spherical pod made of some strange ivory-colored material. It was only a few feet in diameter and had no visible windows or doors.

“Is that—”

“Our way of getting home, yes,” Zaron said, walking toward it. As he approached, the wall of the pod disintegrated, creating an entrance for them.

Stepping in, Zaron carefully lowered Emily onto a floating plank—one of the two that were inside the pod. Instantly, the plank conformed to her body, molding itself to her back and the curve of her butt. The comfort was incredible, and for the first time, Emily realized how much she’d missed the intuitive Krinar technology.

“Are we flying somewhere?” she asked, looking around. The walls of the pod were see-through from the inside, giving her the illusion that she was sitting in a giant glass bubble. It should’ve scared her, but instead, it made her feel light and free. She didn’t feel confined in these transparent walls, though she was as much of a prisoner now as she’d been in the basement below. Zaron wasn’t going to let her go again—she knew that with a certainty that transcended all reason—but the knowledge didn’t scare her.

She never wanted to be without him again.

“We’re going back to Costa Rica,” Zaron said, sitting down on the other plank. “There’s a new Krinar settlement there called Lenkarda. It’s not far from my home—which is your home now too.”

“What about my cat?” There were a million other questions Emily probably should’ve asked first, but concern for George was uppermost in her mind.

“We’ll swing by to get him,” Zaron said with no hint of surprise or hesitation, and she knew he must’ve been prepared for this.

Her intuition had been right: he wasn’t going to let her go.

“What about my apartment?” Emily asked, the logical questions finally coming to her. The adrenaline rush from her violent rescue was fading, and she was beginning to feel overwhelmed again. “What about my things? What will I live on if—”

“Emily.” Zaron swiveled on the plank to face her. Clasping her hand between his large warm palms, he said softly, “You have nothing to worry about, angel. I’ll take care of everything.”

Emily stared at him, her mind whirling. Nobody had taken care of anything for her since her parents’ deaths. “But—”

“Hush,” he murmured, raising his hand to stroke her cheek, and she saw that the possessiveness in his gaze was edged with tenderness, the hunger tempered by something soft and warm. “You don’t have to be afraid, angel. You’re not alone anymore.”

She inhaled, her eyes prickling with sudden tears. “Zaron…”

“We’ll talk more when we get home,” he said, and she nodded, too overcome with emotion to argue.

With a light, soundless push, the pod took off, rising into the air. Emily’s breath caught as they whooshed over New York, covering the distance from Queens to Manhattan in less than a minute. Accelerating so fast should’ve given her whiplash, but she didn’t feel any discomfort from the speed. The ride was as smooth and easy as if they were flying at five miles an hour.

They landed on the rooftop of her building, and Zaron jumped out of the pod as soon as the wall opening appeared. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said, and before Emily could object, he disappeared behind a chimney.

Emily got out of the pod and started to follow him, but before she could take more than a dozen steps, Zaron returned, carrying a wild-eyed George in his arms. Seeing her, the cat let out a loud meow, and Emily grabbed him from Zaron, laughing as the cat swatted her with a paw to express his indignation at being taken by a strange man.

“What about his litter box?” she asked, looking up at Zaron when George settled in her arms and started purring. “And his food and toys and—”

“I’ll provide everything your pet needs,” Zaron said, placing his hand on the small of her back to lead her back toward the pod. “We should go now. I think your air authorities spotted us.”

Sure enough, Emily could hear the distant roar of helicopters and the whine of sirens. Did the agents at that Queens facility report Zaron’s attack? Would this be considered a violation of the treaty? Emily wanted to ask, but Zaron was already shepherding her into the pod and sealing the entrance. She barely had time to sit down on the plank with George secured on her lap when the pod lifted off, swiftly rising high above the city.

The clouds below them turned into a blur, and George meowed, clawing at Emily’s leg in distress. She stroked him soothingly, knowing how scary all of this must seem to a cat who’d never been outside of Manhattan. Even to her, flying in a glass bubble at this insane speed was utterly surreal.

“How long until we get there?” she asked, and Zaron’s full lips curved with amusement.

“We’re there,” he said, and she realized the pod was already descending into the green canopy of the rainforest, having covered the distance from New York to Costa Rica in a few short minutes.

They landed in a clearing next to the small mountain into which Zaron’s house was embedded. To Emily, it felt strangely like coming home. She’d spent less than three weeks here, but the fresh, humid air and the lush vegetation called to her, making her feel alive and whole in a way that the crowded streets of New York City never could.

Stepping out of the pod, she held George against her chest and followed Zaron into the hidden cave he’d made into his home.

Inside, everything was as she’d left it, from the floating furniture to the clean ivory walls. The wall opening closed behind Zaron, sealing them inside the house, and Emily bent down to put George on the floor. The cat looked uncertain for a moment, but then his normal fearlessness kicked in, and he stalked off to explore his new home.

Straightening, Emily faced Zaron, her pulse speeding up with nervous excitement. Zaron’s gaze was hooded as he watched her, his beautiful face set in taut, hard lines.

This was it. They had nowhere to hurry, no other place they needed to be.

It was just the two of them and the tension that simmered in the air, a mutual attraction so potent Emily could feel it like an electric current across her skin.

“Zaron…” She didn’t know if she stepped toward him, or if he moved first, but it didn’t matter because somehow she was in his arms, his mouth devouring her with raw, demanding hunger as his hands roamed across her body. His taste, his scent, his touch—it was everything she’d dreamed of these past seven weeks and more, the reality sharper and more intense than her recollections. His tongue plunged between her lips, taking her mouth with unrestrained passion, and she felt the hardness of his erection as he lifted her against him, spreading her thighs wide to grind his pelvis against her aching sex. His jeans and her yoga pants were between them, but they might as well have been unclothed. Emily felt like she’d been set aflame, each grinding roll of his hips sending shards of sizzling pleasure through her body. Her erect nipples ached inside her bra, and her clit felt swollen and sensitized, her underwear damp with pulsing need.

Moaning into Zaron’s mouth, Emily gripped fistfuls of his thick, silky hair and tried to get even closer, needing more of this, more of him. Distantly, she registered some ripping sounds; then both of their shirts were on the floor, and her naked breasts were pressed against his chest, the relief of skin-to-skin contact almost orgasmic. Their pants were still on, however, and Emily couldn’t bear that. Any barrier between them was too much. As if sensing that, Zaron lowered her to her feet, letting her slide down his muscular body, and in the next instant, she found herself with her yoga pants and underwear around her ankles.

She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the pants, and Zaron spun her around and bent her over, positioning her on all fours on the floor. She heard the slide of his zipper, and then he was behind her and over her, one muscled forearm snaking under her hips to keep her still while his other hand gripped her hair. His hold was rough and possessive, his breathing harsh and heavy against her neck, and her muscles tightened with instinctive unease as she felt the smooth, broad head of his cock prodding at her folds. He was so much bigger than her, so much stronger. Even if he were human, she’d be helpless in his embrace.

“You’re mine,” he rasped into her ear, making her shiver. “This pretty pink pussy is mine. All of you is mine. I’m going to fuck you until you forget what it’s like not to have me inside you, angel… until you never, ever want to leave again.”

His graphic promise both scared and thrilled Emily, but before she could reply, he drove into her, his thick cock spearing her in one hard thrust. The air whooshed out of her lungs, her delicate inner tissues quivering at the shock of his entry. She was wet, but she still felt stretched and overtaken, her body no longer used to his size. And yet the heat inside her remained, the pleasure battling with the discomfort of his rough invasion.

“Zaron, please…” She didn’t know what she was begging for, but he seemed to, because his arm under her hips shifted and his fingers landed on her sex, parting her slick folds to find her aching clit. Unerringly, he located the most sensitive spot, and Emily’s discomfort vanished, her breathing picking up and her spine tightening as he began thrusting at a steady pace, each powerful stroke of his cock pushing her clit against those clever fingers.

“Mine,” he breathed, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of her neck, and the tension inside Emily gathered into an impossibly tight coil, the heat transforming into a scorching conflagration. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, and then the orgasm exploded through her, the pleasure dark and incandescent, shattering in its intensity. It seemed to go on forever, the steady thrusting of Zaron’s cock intensifying and prolonging the sensations. Sweat trickled down Emily’s back, and her toes curled as Zaron continued fucking her through her climax, and just when the agonizing ecstasy began to ease, his fingers pinched her throbbing clit and hurled her straight into her second release.

The waves of pleasure were so overwhelming Emily was caught off-guard when Zaron thrust deep into her with a savage groan, and she felt his cock thicken and jerk inside her. His grinding motions sent aftershocks rippling through her body, and she moaned, her inner muscles clenching as his seed filled her in several warm spurts.

Exhausted, she tried to sink to the floor, but Zaron didn’t let her. Picking her up, he carried her to the shower and washed every part of her body, his touch achingly tender on her sensitized flesh.

Clean and wearing a pink dress Zaron had given her, Emily had just enough energy to sit upright at the floating kitchen table while Zaron ordered his house to prepare a meal for her. It took only a couple of minutes to get the food, and she fell on it the moment it appeared, as ravenous as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“How did you know I was hungry?” she asked after she’d devoured most of her salad and a big bowl of some delicious stew. It was a trivial question, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask the important things, like why Zaron had come for her and what he wanted. The food had given her a burst of energy, but her body still throbbed from his possession, and her cheeks warmed as George jumped onto her lap and sniffed at her crotch before letting out a loud meow. Emily guessed the cat could smell Zaron on her, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Your stomach was rumbling earlier,” Zaron answered, watching George’s antics from across the table. Like her, he was dressed in a fresh set of clothes—a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt—and he looked stunningly sexy as he sat there, his dark eyes trained on her with possessive intensity. “They didn’t give you any food, did they?”

“They gave me some this morning, but I threw up,” Emily admitted. “The drugs they gave me made me sick.”

Zaron’s jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t have stopped me from killing them.”

Emily’s pulse lurched, and she bent down to lower George to the floor. “Zaron…” She straightened to face him. “What exactly are your people?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“Are you…” She could barely bring herself to say it. “Are you some kind of vampires?”

His gaze sharpened. “What makes you ask that?”

“I overhead you and Ellet talking,” Emily said, pushing her plate aside. “And then…” She bit her lip. “Well, I’m pretty sure whatever you did to me the night before I left wasn’t normal sex.”

“You knew, and you still wanted me to do it?”

“What exactly is ‘it?’” Emily asked in frustration. “Am I right about the blood-drinking thing?”

Zaron folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back. “Yes… and no.” His eyes gleamed like dark gems. “Human blood contains a hemoglobin that we once needed to survive, but we altered our genetic makeup so we don’t need it anymore—biologically, at least. Some psychological hunger for it remains, however, and in the absence of a biological need, we get a kind of high from it—a pleasure that’s almost sexual in nature.”

Emily’s mouth went dry. “You… You get high off my blood?”

“Yes—but only if I take it during sex. So don’t worry, angel. I won’t just randomly bite you—though if I did, I’m sure you’d find it pleasurable. Our saliva has a drugging effect on our prey, which is why you enjoyed it when I took your blood those two times.”

Our prey. A shudder rippled down Emily’s spine, and she had to fight not to recoil. It was one thing to have her suspicions, but to have Zaron confirm them so casually…

“I don’t understand,” she said, her mind racing. “How could human blood contain a hemoglobin your species needed? We would’ve had to evolve side by side with you, but you said the Krinar are much older than my kind. Unless…” She inhaled sharply. “Unless you had a species comparable to humans on your planet, and you manipulated our DNA so we’d be like them?”

“Very good,” Zaron said approvingly. “You’d make an excellent biologist. Yes, that’s exactly right. On Krina, there was a primate-like species called the lonar that my ancestors used to hunt. Their blood had the hemoglobin we needed. Unfortunately, they were weak and fragile creatures, with low birth rates and short lifespans, and when a plague nearly wiped them out, we realized we needed an alternative. Humans—or rather, your ancient primate ancestors—were supposed to be that alternative. As it turned out, we didn’t need them; by the time Earth primates had evolved enough to have the hemoglobin, we had come up with synthetic blood substitutes and also altered our genes to get rid of our reliance on it.”

“So then why did you continue manipulating our evolution?” Emily asked, confused. “You did do that, right? Because how else could humans be so much like you?”

Zaron nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Once we no longer needed your blood, the intent of our experiment shifted. Our scientists decided to see if they could create a Krinar-like species by nudging along the evolution of one species of Earth primates.”

“The species that became the modern-day Homo sapiens?”

“Yes, precisely.” He looked pleased that Emily understood, and she wondered if that meant he was surprised at her intelligence. Then a horrible thought occurred to her.

What if Zaron saw her as an unusually smart monkey or some type of genetic experiment?

Her lungs seized, her stomach cramping for an awful moment, but then she remembered how Zaron had confided in her about his mate, how he hadn’t wanted Emily to leave but had respected her wishes regardless.

No. She began breathing again. That particular worry was unfounded. However the Krinar felt about her species, Zaron didn’t view Emily as a lab animal—that much she was certain of.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Zaron leaned forward and took her hand. “Emily… Listen to me, angel.” His voice was soft, but there was no escaping the intensity in his gaze. “I know that what I am—what my people are—is still new to you, and that it must seem frightening at times. But you have nothing to fear, believe me. I will take care of you. I will give you whatever you need, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re happy and safe.” His eyes glittered dangerously as he added, “Nobody will ever hurt you again.”

Emily dragged in an unsteady breath. “Zaron…” There was a growing lump in her throat. “Why did you come for me?”

“Because you’re mine,” he said, his hand tightening around her fingers. “Because you’ve been mine from the moment I saw you lying on those rocks, broken yet clinging to life with all your strength. I didn’t know it then, but when I saved you—when I gave you your life back—you gave me back mine, Emily.”

The lump in her throat expanded, and her eyes began to burn as Zaron got up and stepped around the floating table, using his grip on Emily’s hand to pull her up and draw her against him. Gazing down at her, he took both of her hands in his palms, bringing them up to his chest, and the raw vulnerability of his expression pierced her to the core.

“After I lost Larita, I lived in darkness,” he said quietly. “I existed in a world so bleak and gray it took everything I had to get up each morning. There were days I thought I wouldn’t make it and nights when…” His powerful throat moved as he swallowed. “When I didn’t want to make it.”

“Oh, Zaron.” Emily felt like her chest had been ripped open. “I’m so, so sorry—”

“No, don’t.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze, his fingers strong and warm around her palms. “You don’t understand, angel. I’m not telling you this to solicit your pity. I just want you to understand.”

“Understand what?” Emily whispered, blinking to clear the veil of tears from her eyes. Her heart pounded in a fast, shallow rhythm, the warm glow in his gaze making her breath tremble in her throat.

“Understand why I love you,” he said. “Why I want you with me every day for the rest of my life. You gave me back what I thought I’d never have again, and I can’t bear to lose it, Emily. I can’t bear to lose you. I let you go before because I’d made you a promise, but I can’t do it again. I need you, angel. I need you with me forever.”

“You—” Emily’s voice broke, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You have me, Zaron. I’m here. I love you, and I’m yours for as long as you want me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left before. I thought I had to—I told myself it was the rational thing to do—but that was just fear talking all along. I didn’t want you to leave me, so I left first and—”

“And I didn’t stop you because I was afraid,” Zaron said, squeezing her hands tighter. “I was scared I would lose you like I’d lost Larita, so I didn’t try to explain, to make you understand what I could give you.” His mouth twisted bitterly as he released her hands and dropped his arms to his sides. “I should’ve said to hell with the mandate and told you the truth, but instead, like a coward, I kept silent and let you walk out of my life.”

“What are you talking about?” Emily whispered, blinking up at him in confusion. She felt bereft without his touch, as lost as an abandoned child. “You did ask me to stay. What does the mandate have to do with anything?”

“It doesn’t—not really.” Self-recrimination tightened his voice. “It was an excuse all along. I thought I couldn’t tell you everything because if you’d then refused to stay with me, I’d have broken the mandate. But that was my own fear talking, nothing more.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry, angel. The truth is, I let you walk away because I fell in love with you, and I couldn’t face the thought that I could lose you someday… that some freak accident could claim your life when I was least prepared.”

“Oh, Zaron…” Emily couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Stepping closer to him, she clasped his large palms in her hands and brought them to her chest, mimicking his earlier hold on her. The tears were choking her again, the bittersweet joy of his confession making her throat ache. “You are going to lose me; it’s inevitable,” she said hoarsely. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together until then… doesn’t mean we can’t love each other until then. Even a few years is better than—”

“No, angel.” To Emily’s surprise, the corners of Zaron’s mouth lifted in a faint smile. “You still don’t understand.” Gently extricating his hands from her grasp, he gripped her shoulders, his touch warm and tenderly possessive. “It’s not a few years, you see—not when you’re fully mine.”

“What?” Emily stared at him. Surely he couldn’t mean…

“There’s another type of nanocytes—one much more advanced and complex than what I used to heal you,” Zaron said, his eyes gleaming. “These nanocytes are designed to repair cellular and DNA damage for as long as they’re inside a living human body.”

Emily opened her mouth, then closed it. Shaking her head, she took a step back, moving her elbows in a circle to break Zaron’s hold on her shoulders. “Repair DNA damage? You…” She could barely speak. “You’re talking about biological immortality.”

“Yes.” He came after her and caught her wrist, stopping her from backing away. “So you see, angel, it doesn’t have to be a few years—not if you’re my charl.”

“Your what?” Emily’s head was spinning.

“Charl,” he said. “That’s what we call humans we bring fully into our society. The label is irrelevant, though. What matters is what it can give you: access to those nanocytes and a life free from the ravages of disease and aging—a life that can go on for millennia or longer at my side.”

“Oh my God, Zaron…” What he was telling her was utterly unbelievable, but if it was true… “Your people can grant us immortality?”

He shook his head. “Not all of you, no. Only those we claim as charl—like I’m claiming you.”

“But if you have this technology—”

“Emily.” He let go of her wrist to frame her face between his palms. Gazing down at her, he wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs and said softly, “Listen to me, angel. I understand how it must seem to you, but there’s nothing I can do for the human race as a whole. That’s up to the Council and the Elders. Maybe one day they’ll share this technology with your kind, but until then, we can only give these nanocytes to our charl. I can only give them to you.”

Staring up at him, Emily wrapped her fingers around his wrists. His bones were thick and sturdy, as strong as the man himself. She didn’t know what to think, how to process what he was telling her. Should she be selfishly glad that Zaron was going to give her this incredible gift, or horrified that the Krinar were withholding it from the rest of Earth’s population? How many lives could be saved with the Krinar technology? How much suffering prevented? Her heart ached as she pictured all the sick and dying around the world, and realized she wouldn’t be one of them.

She would never be one of them because she would belong to Zaron.

Instead of the few short years she’d pictured them having together, they would have an eternity.

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered, and Emily realized that the tears were running down her face again, her hands trembling as she held his wrists. Bending his head, he kissed the tears from her cheeks, but they just kept coming, the flood of emotions impossible to control. Her joy was mixed with guilt, her happiness tainted by the knowledge that she would be one of the privileged few, that her friends would age and pass away as she remained unchanged with the man she loved.

She tried to stop crying, to turn her face away from Zaron’s soothing kisses, but his lips captured hers, and the dark heat that burned between them ignited anew, weakening her knees and muddling her thoughts. A moan vibrated in her throat, and his kiss turned savagely demanding, his tongue invading her mouth as he backed her up against a wall, one of his hands pinning her wrists above her head while the other fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, freeing his erect cock. Still kissing her, he released her wrists and lowered his hands to grip her thighs and lift her off the ground. Overwhelmed, Emily clutched at his shoulders. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and the thick crown of his shaft pressed against her naked sex, stoking the pulsing heat inside her.

“Zaron,” she groaned, arching her head back as his lips trailed over her jaw, leaving a hot, damp trail on her skin, and then she felt it: the sharp, startling slice of his teeth across the delicate skin of her throat.

“Mine,” he rasped, his mouth latching onto the wound, and her world spun away, consumed by the white-hot ecstasy that overtook them both.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

It wasn’t until the next morning, when Emily woke up next to Zaron, that she had the chance to process everything.

He was lying on his side watching her when she opened her eyes, and the possessive warmth in his gaze filled her with a confusing mix of joy and unease.

She belonged to Zaron now. Forever. He hadn’t said so explicitly, but she knew that even if she begged, he wouldn’t let her leave again, and it wasn’t just because he’d broken the mandate by telling her about the full capabilities of Krinar medical technology.

He was going to keep her because he needed her—and because he knew she needed him.

“Good morning, angel,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair off her face, and Emily’s skin heated as she remembered what had taken place yesterday. He’d taken her blood again, and the sex that followed had been out of this world. She remembered more of it than after the first two times—maybe because her body was growing used to whatever it was his saliva did to her—and the recollections sent a surge of liquid warmth to her sex. Zaron had been insatiable, taking her in every way possible, and she’d enjoyed all of it, her body craving every dirty, depraved thing he’d done to her.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and Emily nodded, pushing the graphic images out of her mind.

“I’ll be right back,” she said and jumped off the bed, ignoring the hungry way his eyes tracked her as she walked naked to the bathroom.

When she emerged a few minutes later, she found Zaron dressed in an unusual outfit: a sleeveless ivory-colored shirt and a pair of loose white shorts that ended at his knees. The simplicity of the clothes highlighted his powerful build, the soft-looking material draping over his muscles in a way that made her mouth water. He looked strikingly gorgeous, the light color of the outfit highlighting the deep bronze hue of his skin, and Emily sucked in a breath as he came toward her, his mouth curved in a sensuous smile.

“I’m wearing Krinar clothing,” he explained as she continued to stare at him. “Here, I made you some, too.”

He handed her a pale peach dress with thin straps and a deep plunge in the back. Emily put it on, marveling at the way it fit her so well. The lightweight, fleece-like material was similar to the dresses he’d given her before, but the style was different. The bodice of the dress both concealed and revealed, emphasizing the shape of her breasts without showing her nipples, and the skirt floated prettily around her legs, stopping a couple of inches above her knees.

“It’s beautiful,” she said as Zaron gave a command in Krinar and one of the walls turned into a mirror, showing Emily her reflection. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, and a tremor rippled down her spine as she felt the warmth of his palms on her bare skin. The reflection in the mirror highlighted their differences. Standing behind her, Zaron was a full head taller and uncompromisingly male, his thickly muscled shoulders twice as wide as her slender frame. Though Emily had never considered herself particularly small, she looked tiny next to him, her pale skin and blond hair making his dark coloring appear even more exotic.

For the first time, it struck her that she would be a foreigner among Zaron’s people. No, not a foreigner—an alien, a member of a totally different species.

Her stomach tightening with anxiety, Emily turned around to face her lover. “Zaron…” Her voice was unsteady. “Where do you intend for us to live?”

“For the next year, here, near Lenkarda,” he said, smiling down at her. “Afterwards, when I’m no longer needed to oversee the settlement process, we can decide on our next home together. We can choose to stay here or go to Krina. Or we can live in one of your cities if you wish, though I’d much prefer the first two options.”

“You’d come to New York with me?” Emily asked, surprised. Given the general public’s fearful and hostile attitude toward the Ks, the idea of Zaron joining her in Manhattan had never crossed her mind.

“If things settle down, yes. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“For me?” Emily frowned. “I don’t think those agents would dare come after me again. I was worried about you, with all the unrest in the streets and—”

“Oh, I can take care of myself,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “And no, I don’t think your government will mess with you again, but that doesn’t mean some foolish human resistance group won’t.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t considered this aspect of the situation, but Zaron was right. If anyone found out about Emily’s relationship with Zaron, she’d become a target for K haters. They’d label her a traitor—and they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, she thought with a pang of guilt.

She was sleeping with the enemy—an enemy who was planning to give her an unimaginable gift as a result.

“Don’t worry,” Zaron said, misreading the dismay on her face. Raising his hand, he gently stroked her cheek. “Nobody will harm you, angel. I promise you that.”

“I know.” Emily covered his hand with her own, pressing his palm against her cheek. Warmth filled her chest at the unconcealed love that shone in his gaze. “I know that, Zaron.”

His smile reappeared, brighter than she’d ever seen it. “Good. Now, come, let’s eat—and locate your cat.”

They found George relaxing on one of the floating couches in the living room. He seemed quite content as he lay there, and when Emily asked Zaron about the cat’s food, he told her he’d given his house orders to ensure that the feline would be fed regularly and provided with the appropriate bathroom situation.

“What kind of bathroom situation?” Emily asked, amused, and Zaron explained that the house had created a special nook where the cat could do his business. Emily insisted on seeing it, so Zaron took her to a room she’d never been in before—one with a floor made entirely of dirt.

“Zaron, this is huge,” she said, looking around in amazement. “Did your house build this room just for George?”

Zaron nodded. “I want George to be happy here too,” he said with utmost seriousness and bent down to pick up the cat, who’d followed them to the room. “Later today, I’ll take him hunting for mice and birds. His species needs that.”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “You’re going to take my cat hunting? In the jungle?”

“Yes, but don’t worry.” Zaron held George against his chest, ignoring the cat’s attempts to jump out of his arms. “I’m fast enough to make sure he won’t run off or get hurt in any way. I know your pet is a domesticated creature.”

And that was that. As they ate breakfast, Zaron kept George on his lap, letting the cat get used to him, and after a few loud meows and one thwarted attempt at scratching, the cat settled down, letting Zaron stroke his fur and scratch behind his ears. By the time they were finishing their meal, George was full-on purring.

It seemed even cats were not immune to her lover’s forceful tenderness.

After the meal, they went for a walk—without the cat, as Emily was definitely not fast enough to catch him if he ran off—and she brought up the other problem that had been weighing on her this morning.

“Zaron… Can I tell my friends where I am and with whom?” she asked as they passed under a guanacaste tree on their way to the lake. “Amber might worry when she can’t reach me, and the others will probably start wondering about my absence after a while.”

Zaron glanced at her. “You can tell them you’re with me in Costa Rica. But you’ll have to keep quiet about the nanocytes and pretty much everything else you see and learn going forward.”

Emily swallowed. “I understand.” Her life would diverge drastically from those of her friends; it was already happening, in fact. Thanks to Zaron, she’d survived the fall off the bridge, but her old life had ended on those rocks. Even before he’d come back for her, she’d been different, irreversibly altered by the experience of meeting and falling in love with a man so extraordinary she could’ve never imagined he existed.

No wonder she’d felt like a zombie during those seven weeks in New York. She’d been trying to resurrect the old Emily instead of coming to terms with the person she’d become.

They walked in companionable silence until they reached the lake. It was hot and humid, and when they got to the clear water, they both gladly dove in, swimming for well over an hour until Emily got tired.

“Will I be stronger when I have the nanocytes?” she asked, holding on to Zaron’s shoulders as he swam toward the shore, towing her on his back from the middle of the lake without any sign of exertion. “Will I be able to keep up with you in this and other activities?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” he said, stopping and bringing her around to face him. His strong legs scissored in the water below to keep them both afloat. “You won’t age or get sick, but you’ll still be human, with all that it implies. But because the nanocytes will rapidly heal all damage inflicted on your cells, no matter how minute, you’ll recover faster from intense exercise and will have greater endurance. So if you exercise a lot, you could become as strong and fit as any of your top athletes in a much shorter period of time.”

“Oh, wow.” Just thinking about that made Emily’s heart beat faster with excitement. “I can’t wait.”

“You won’t have to wait long,” Zaron said, a warm smile appearing on his lips. “You’re getting the nanocytes tonight.”

And drawing her to him, he kissed her with such passion she was surprised the water didn’t boil around them.

CHAPTER FORTY

“Are you ready?” Zaron asked, holding Emily’s hand. He could see the fear in her eyes, but she lifted her chin and smiled brightly.

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” Zaron gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then turned to face Ellet. “Is everything set?”

The human biology expert nodded. “I’ve run the simulations, and everything is ready to go. Emily, I’ll be putting you under now, okay?”

“Okay.” Emily’s smile dimmed slightly, her hand tensing in Zaron’s grasp. “It’ll be just for a short while, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” Ellet approached her with a small jansha-like device. “It’ll feel just like a dream.”

“Okay, then, go for it,” Emily said, and Ellet pressed the device against her neck. Instantly, Emily’s hand went slack in Zaron’s hold, her eyes closing as she fell into a drugged sleep.

“Everything is normal,” Ellet said, switching the jansha-like device for a more sophisticated nanocyte-dispersion tool, and Zaron realized some of his worry must’ve shown on his face. He knew the procedure was safe—it had been done to humans for thousands of years—but it still made him uneasy to see Emily like this: unconscious and acutely vulnerable.

It reminded him of how she’d been in those first couple of days in his house, when she’d been healing from her fall.

Of course, this wasn’t his house. It was Ellet’s new lab in Lenkarda, a place equipped with the latest Krinar medical technology. Even the most basic device here was infinitely more advanced than anything Zaron had at home.

That knowledge should’ve calmed him, but the anxiety remained, gnawing at him like a parasite. The risk of something going wrong during the procedure was about the same as that of the world ending tomorrow, but that didn’t lessen his irrational worry. If anything happened to Emily… No. He couldn’t think that way.

He couldn’t let fear dictate the course of their relationship again.

“You love her, don’t you?” Ellet asked as the procedure continued, and Zaron tore his eyes from Emily long enough to glance at the Krinar woman and nod tersely.

“Of course I do,” he said, his voice tight. “Why else do you think I’m here?”

Ellet smiled, her hazel eyes filled with gentle encouragement. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see,” she said, and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the procedure.

“I know.” Turning his attention back to Emily, Zaron stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. “I know that.”

And he did. Losing Emily would always be his greatest nightmare, but he’d never let that drive them apart again.

Their time together was too precious for that.

Emily’s hand twitched in his grasp, yanking Zaron out of his thoughts, and he realized she was already waking up.

“It’s all good,” Ellet said when he glanced at her in concern. “The nanocytes are in place and functioning as intended. Here, I can show you.” She reached for a small knife, likely intending to scratch Emily to prove her point, but Zaron caught her arm before she could get anywhere near Emily’s skin.

“Don’t,” he said harshly. He knew he was being insanely overprotective, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Emily getting injured in any way.

Nobody would ever hurt her on his watch.

Ellet looked startled but recovered quickly. “Of course, whatever you wish.” Pulling her arm out of his grasp, she put the knife back on the floating table. “She wouldn’t have felt it—she’s still a little numb—but if you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”

“That’s right.” Zaron’s muscles were coiled tight. “I don’t want you to do it.”

“Zaron?” Emily’s voice was soft and sleepy-sounding, but it acted on him like a lightning bolt. His attention instantly snapped back to her, his hand tightening around her slender palm.

“I’m here, angel,” he said, watching her eyes flutter open. “How are you feeling?”

“Um…” Looking disoriented, she tried to sit up, and Zaron helped her, wrapping his arm around her back. Her long hair tickled his face, the soft blond strands silky and fragrant, and he inhaled deeply, drawing in her delicate scent before pulling back to meet her gaze.

“I don’t feel any different,” Emily said, blinking at him in confusion, and Zaron smiled, joyous relief filling his chest.

The procedure had gone well. His angel would be healthy for centuries and millennia to come.

“You’re not supposed to feel any different,” Ellet said as Zaron lifted Emily into his arms. “At least not right away. Over time, you’ll notice some improvements. You won’t get colds, for instance, and if you ever injure yourself, you’ll heal faster.”

“Thank you, Ellet,” Zaron said, regretting his harshness with her earlier. “I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” she said with a warm smile, and Zaron headed out, holding Emily cradled against his chest.

George greeted them with a loud meow as they entered the house, and Zaron carefully placed Emily on her feet, letting her walk on her own. She no longer looked woozy, but she was a little quiet, and he knew she was still recovering from the procedure.

He let her pet George for a couple of minutes, and then he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Come,” he said, taking her arm and leading her to the bedroom.

“Again?” she asked, her eyes wide. “But we just had sex before dinner.”

“I know,” Zaron said, pulling off her dress. His body hardened at the sight of her slim, naked curves, but sex wasn’t what he was after—not at this moment, at least. Removing his own clothes, he picked Emily up and placed her on the bed, then lay down next to her, pulling her into his embrace.

Understanding what he wanted, she nestled against him, laying her head on his shoulder and draping her leg over his thighs. Her breasts were soft and full against his side, her body fitting against his like she’d been made for him. Ignoring the lust lashing at his body, Zaron held her tight and let himself feel the dizzying perfection of simply being with her… of loving her. Happiness, fragile but real, was within their grasp, and he was no longer afraid to reach for it. The pain of losing Larita would never go away completely—his former mate would always have a piece of his heart—but loving Emily made the grief bearable.

Loving Emily made his life worth living again.

“I love you, Zaron,” she whispered, lifting her head to gaze at him, and he smiled, knowing she’d somehow sensed the direction of his thoughts.

“I love you too, angel,” he said softly, looking into her bright, clear eyes. “You’re mine—now and for all eternity.”

EPILOGUE

Ten Months Later

“Are you okay?” Zaron asked, his dark eyes trained on her face, and Emily nodded, though her heart was jackrabbiting in her throat. George meowed in her arms, so she bent down to put him on the floor. The cat instantly jumped up onto a floating plank—his new favorite piece of furniture—and started licking his paw, displaying none of the nervousness Emily was feeling.

The last year had been utterly surreal, but the adventure she was embarking on now superseded her wildest imaginings. In less than two minutes, the Krinar spaceship they were on would leave the Earth orbit, carrying Emily, Zaron, George, and hundreds of Krinar scientists to Krina.

In less than two minutes, Emily and her cat would be on their way to their new home in a different galaxy.

Zaron had gotten the three of them a private room near the hull of the ship—so Emily would have the best views, he’d explained. From the outside, the bullet-shaped ship didn’t look particularly futuristic, but inside, it was like Zaron’s house on steroids. Everything was light and airy, filled with floating furniture, exotic-looking plants, and intelligent Krinar technology. The best thing of all was that the outer walls were transparent from within, enabling Emily to see Earth from an astronaut’s vantage point.

Turning, she stared at the pretty blue ball that was the birthplace of humanity. “You said we’ll fly at subluminal speeds at first, right?” she said, tearing her eyes away from the mind-blowing view to glance up at Zaron. “We won’t go straight into the warp jump, correct?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, his beautiful lips curving in a smile. “We’ll first spend several days flying away from Earth. That’s to avoid causing disturbances when we warp space-time.”

“Okay, got it. Just a little run-of-the-mill warping of space-time. No biggie,” Emily said, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt. “It will be just like going for a walk.”

“It will be,” Zaron promised, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll adapt to space travel just as well as you’ve adapted to everything else.”

His words—and the warm look in his eyes—calmed her a bit. Zaron was right: Emily had acclimated to her new life with him with surprising ease. Far from missing New York and her career in finance, she’d thrived in Costa Rica. Within a month, she’d grown as comfortable with basic Krinar applications as she’d been with human technology, and with the aid of a neural language implant—which she’d gotten a week after her nanocytes—Emily had spent the last ten months learning everything she could about Krinar science and society.

Her knowledge base had grown so rapidly she was seriously considering exploring her childhood dream of being a scientist.

She’d expected Zaron to laugh when she’d mentioned the idea, but he’d been overjoyed and had immediately set out to teach her all about the different species of plants and animals on Krina. His passion had been so infectious that Emily was now thinking about being a biologist like him.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Zaron had said when she’d told him about that idea. “In fact, you don’t have to decide at all. Many of us dabble in different fields, and you can too. It’s all up to you. I know that whatever you choose to do, you’ll be successful at it.”

It was that kind of encouragement and unwavering support from Zaron that had given Emily the courage to agree to move with him to Krina. Zaron had been offered a new research opportunity there, and he was looking forward to reconnecting with his family and mending the rift between them—something Emily very much approved of. It had bothered her that Zaron had parents who loved him, yet he was estranged from them. She’d encouraged him to make up with them, even though she’d worried they might disapprove of his relationship with her. However, Zaron had spoken to them in virtual reality last month, telling them all about her, and he’d told her afterwards that nobody had a problem with her being human. They were all eager to meet her, he’d said, and Emily was now excited to meet them. Still, she was more than a little nervous about leaving Earth.

It didn’t help that her friend Amber had told her she was being insane.

“You’re already living next door to an alien colony—with an alien,” she’d hissed at Emily when they’d met in person in New York last month. “And now you’re thinking of going to Krina? What the fuck are you going to do there? You don’t even speak their language!”

Emily couldn’t tell Amber that, thanks to the language implant, she did speak Krinar, so she’d kept quiet and Amber had railed on, making all kinds of dire predictions about Emily’s fate on Krina. Emily had taken her warnings with a grain of salt; like most people in the wake of the Great Panic, Amber feared the Krinar so much she’d refused to meet Zaron. Unfortunately, Emily couldn’t dismiss her friend’s concerns out of hand, either.

Not all Krinar were as enlightened in their attitude toward humans as Zaron; that was why she’d been worried about Zaron’s family. Even in Lenkarda, where most residents had spent time among humans, Emily had encountered quite a few Ks who seemed to regard her as a cross between Zaron’s pet and sexual possession.

If she hadn’t been certain that Zaron both loved and respected her, she wouldn’t have agreed to go to Krina.

“Angel…” Zaron framed her face with his palms, and the heated intensity in his gaze chased away the anxiety that had swept through her again. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m with you, and I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily whispered, further reassured by his words, and Zaron wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing her against his side as a soft chime sounded, marking the start of the ship’s journey.

Mesmerized, Emily stared through the transparent wall as the ship began moving, carrying them away from Earth. The pretty blue ball that was her home planet was getting smaller with each second, but the journey ahead no longer frightened Emily. Whatever the future held, she’d face it together with the man who embraced her with such tender possessiveness, the Krinar who’d saved her life and captured her heart.

She was with Zaron, and that was all that mattered.

THE END

Thank you for reading! If you would consider leaving a review, it would be greatly appreciated.

While Emily & Zaron’s story is complete, there are other books set in this universe, including a complete trilogy featuring Mia and Korum (please click HERE). You can also check out Swept Away, a short novella about Arus and Delia’s meeting in Ancient Greece (click HERE), and The X-Club, a short erotic story featuring one journalist’s encounter with a K (click HERE).

I also write dark, sexy contemporaries. If you haven’t read Nora & Julian’s story, I encourage you to try the Twist Me trilogy (please click HERE). There’s also a parallel dark romance series with Lucas & Yulia called Capture Me, and you can get the entire box set by clicking HERE.

If you’d like to be notified when the next book is out, please sign up for my new release email list at www.annazaires.com.

Additionally, if you like audiobooks, please click HERE to check out this series and our other books.

And now please turn the page for a little taste of Close Liaisons, Twist Me, and Capture Me.

EXCERPT FROM CLOSE LIAISONS

Author’s Note: Close Liaisons is the first book in the Krinar Chronicles trilogy. All three books are now available.

A dark and edgy romance that will appeal to fans of erotic and turbulent relationships…

In the near future, the Krinar rule the Earth. An advanced race from another galaxy, they are still a mystery to us—and we are completely at their mercy.

Shy and innocent, Mia Stalis is a college student in New York City who has led a very normal life. Like most people, she's never had any interactions with the invaders—until one fateful day in the park changes everything. Having caught Korum's eye, she must now contend with a powerful, dangerously seductive Krinar who wants to possess her and will stop at nothing to make her his own.

How far would you go to regain your freedom? How much would you sacrifice to help your people? What choice will you make when you begin to fall for your enemy?

Breathe, Mia, breathe. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small rational voice kept repeating those words. That same oddly objective part of her noted his symmetric face structure, with golden skin stretched tightly over high cheekbones and a firm jaw. Pictures and videos of Ks that she’d seen had hardly done them justice. Standing no more than thirty feet away, the creature was simply stunning.

As she continued staring at him, still frozen in place, he straightened and began walking toward her. Or rather stalking toward her, she thought stupidly, as his every movement reminded her of a jungle cat sinuously approaching a gazelle. All the while, his eyes never left hers. As he approached, she could make out individual yellow flecks in his light golden eyes and the thick long lashes surrounding them.

She watched in horrified disbelief as he sat down on her bench, less than two feet away from her, and smiled, showing white even teeth. No fangs, she noted with some functioning part of her brain. Not even a hint of them. That used to be another myth about them, like their supposed abhorrence of the sun.

“What’s your name?” The creature practically purred the question at her. His voice was low and smooth, completely unaccented. His nostrils flared slightly, as though inhaling her scent.

“Um…” Mia swallowed nervously. “M-Mia.”

“Mia,” he repeated slowly, seemingly savoring her name. “Mia what?”

“Mia Stalis.” Oh crap, why did he want to know her name? Why was he here, talking to her? In general, what was he doing in Central Park, so far away from any of the K Centers? Breathe, Mia, breathe.

“Relax, Mia Stalis.” His smile got wider, exposing a dimple in his left cheek. A dimple? Ks had dimples? “Have you never encountered one of us before?”

“No, I haven’t,” Mia exhaled sharply, realizing that she was holding her breath. She was proud that her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Should she ask? Did she want to know?

She gathered her courage. “What, um—” Another swallow. “What do you want from me?”

“For now, conversation.” He looked like he was about to laugh at her, those gold eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.

Strangely, that pissed her off enough to take the edge off her fear. If there was anything Mia hated, it was being laughed at. With her short, skinny stature and a general lack of social skills that came from an awkward teenage phase involving every girl’s nightmare of braces, frizzy hair, and glasses, Mia had more than enough experience being the butt of someone’s joke.

She lifted her chin belligerently. “Okay, then, what is your name?”

“It’s Korum.”

“Just Korum?”

“We don’t really have last names, not the way you do. My full name is much longer, but you wouldn’t be able to pronounce it if I told you.”

Okay, that was interesting. She now remembered reading something like that in The New York Times. So far, so good. Her legs had nearly stopped shaking, and her breathing was returning to normal. Maybe, just maybe, she would get out of this alive. This conversation business seemed safe enough, although the way he kept staring at her with those unblinking yellowish eyes was unnerving. She decided to keep him talking.

“What are you doing here, Korum?”

“I just told you, making conversation with you, Mia.” His voice again held a hint of laughter.

Frustrated, Mia blew out her breath. “I meant, what are you doing here in Central Park? In New York City in general?”

He smiled again, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Maybe I’m hoping to meet a pretty curly-haired girl.”

Okay, enough was enough. He was clearly toying with her. Now that she could think a little again, she realized that they were in the middle of Central Park, in full view of about a gazillion spectators. She surreptitiously glanced around to confirm that. Yep, sure enough, although people were obviously steering clear of her bench and its otherworldly occupant, there were a number of brave souls staring their way from farther up the path. A couple were even cautiously filming them with their wristwatch cameras. If the K tried anything with her, it would be on YouTube in the blink of an eye, and he had to know it. Of course, he may or may not care about that.

Still, going on the assumption that since she’d never come across any videos of K assaults on college students in the middle of Central Park, she was relatively safe, Mia cautiously reached for her laptop and lifted it to stuff it back into her backpack.

“Let me help you with that, Mia—”

And before she could blink, she felt him take her heavy laptop from her suddenly boneless fingers, gently brushing against her knuckles in the process. A sensation similar to a mild electric shock shot through Mia at his touch, leaving her nerve endings tingling in its wake.

Reaching for her backpack, he carefully put away the laptop in a smooth, sinuous motion. “There you go, all better now.”

Oh God, he had touched her. Maybe her theory about the safety of public locations was bogus. She felt her breathing speeding up again, and her heart rate was probably well into the anaerobic zone at this point.

“I have to go now… Bye!”

How she managed to squeeze out those words without hyperventilating, she would never know. Grabbing the strap of the backpack he’d just put down, she jumped to her feet, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that her earlier paralysis seemed to be gone.

“Bye, Mia. I will see you later.” His softly mocking voice carried in the clear spring air as she took off, nearly running in her haste to get away.

All three books in the Krinar Chronicles trilogy are now available. Please click HERE to get your copy. If you’d like to find out more, please visit my website at www.annazaires.com.

EXCERPT FROM TWIST ME

Author’s Note: Twist Me is a dark erotic trilogy about Nora and Julian Esguerra. All three books are now available.

Kidnapped. Taken to a private island.

I never thought this could happen to me. I never imagined one chance meeting on the eve of my eighteenth birthday could change my life so completely.

Now I belong to him. To Julian. To a man who is as ruthless as he is beautiful—a man whose touch makes me burn. A man whose tenderness I find more devastating than his cruelty.

My captor is an enigma. I don’t know who he is or why he took me. There is a darkness inside him—a darkness that scares me even as it draws me in.

My name is Nora Leston, and this is my story.

It’s evening now. With every minute that passes, I’m starting to get more and more anxious at the thought of seeing my captor again.

The novel that I’ve been reading can no longer hold my interest. I put it down and walk in circles around the room.

I am dressed in the clothes Beth had given me earlier. It’s not what I would’ve chosen to wear, but it’s better than a bathrobe. A sexy pair of white lacy panties and a matching bra for underwear. A pretty blue sundress that buttons in the front. Everything fits me suspiciously well. Has he been stalking me for a while? Learning everything about me, including my clothing size?

The thought makes me sick.

I am trying not to think about what’s to come, but it’s impossible. I don’t know why I’m so sure he’ll come to me tonight. It’s possible he has an entire harem of women stashed away on this island, and he visits each one only once a week, like sultans used to do.

Yet somehow I know he’ll be here soon. Last night had simply whetted his appetite. I know he’s not done with me, not by a long shot.

Finally, the door opens.

He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.

I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could’ve been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would’ve been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.

But he doesn’t. His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.

He’s again wearing jeans and a T-shirt. A gray one this time. He seems to favor simple clothing, and he’s smart to do so. His looks don’t need any enhancement.

He smiles at me. It’s his fallen angel smile—dark and seductive at the same time. “Hello, Nora.”

I don’t know what to say to him, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Here in the room? Or on the island?”

“Both.”

“Beth will show you around tomorrow, take you swimming if you’d like,” he says, approaching me. “You won’t be locked in, unless you do something foolish.”

“Such as?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest as he stops next to me and lifts his hand to stroke my hair.

“Trying to harm Beth or yourself.” His voice is soft, his gaze hypnotic as he looks down at me. The way he’s touching my hair is oddly relaxing.

I blink, trying to break his spell. “And what about on the island? How long will you keep me here?”

His hand caresses my face, curves around my cheek. I catch myself leaning into his touch, like a cat getting petted, and I immediately stiffen.

His lips curl into a knowing smile. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “A long time, I hope,” he says.

For some reason, I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t have bothered bringing me all the way here if he just wanted to fuck me a few times. I’m terrified, but I’m not surprised.

I gather my courage and ask the next logical question. “Why did you kidnap me?”

The smile leaves his face. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with an inscrutable blue gaze.

I begin to shake. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No, Nora, I won’t kill you.”

His denial reassures me, although he could obviously be lying.

“Are you going to sell me?” I can barely get the words out. “Like to be a prostitute or something?”

“No,” he says softly. “Never. You’re mine and mine alone.”

I feel a tiny bit calmer, but there is one more thing I have to know. “Are you going to hurt me?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer again. Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes. “Probably,” he says quietly.

And then he leans down and kisses me, his warm lips soft and gentle on mine.

For a second, I stand there frozen, unresponsive. I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll hurt me. There’s something in him that scares me—that has scared me from the very beginning.

He’s nothing like the boys I’ve gone on dates with. He’s capable of anything.

And I’m completely at his mercy.

I think about trying to fight him again. That would be the normal thing to do in my situation. The brave thing to do.

And yet I don’t do it.

I can feel the darkness inside him. There’s something wrong with him. His outer beauty hides something monstrous underneath.

I don’t want to unleash that darkness. I don’t know what will happen if I do.

So I stand still in his embrace and let him kiss me. And when he picks me up again and takes me to bed, I don’t try to resist in any way.

Instead, I close my eyes and give in to the sensations.

All three books in the Twist Me trilogy are now available (click HERE). Please visit my website at www.annazaires.com to learn more and to sign up for my new release email list.

EXCERPT FROM CAPTURE ME

Author’s Note: Capture Me is the first book in Lucas & Yulia’s dark romance series.

She fears him from the first moment she sees him.

Yulia Tzakova is no stranger to dangerous men. She grew up with them. She survived them. But when she meets Lucas Kent, she knows the hard ex-soldier may be the most dangerous of them all.

One night—that’s all it should be. A chance to make up for a failed assignment and get information on Kent’s arms dealer boss. When his plane goes down, it should be the end.

Instead, it's just the beginning.

He wants her from the first moment he sees her.

Lucas Kent has always liked leggy blondes, and Yulia Tzakova is as beautiful as they come. The Russian interpreter might’ve tried to seduce his boss, but she ends up in Lucas’s bed—and he has every intention of seeing her there again.

Then his plane goes down, and he learns the truth.

She betrayed him.

Now she will pay.

He steps into my apartment as soon as the door swings open. No hesitation, no greeting—he just comes in.

Startled, I step back, the short, narrow hallway suddenly stiflingly small. I’d somehow forgotten how big he is, how broad his shoulders are. I’m tall for a woman—tall enough to fake being a model if an assignment calls for it—but he towers a full head above me. With the heavy down jacket he’s wearing, he takes up almost the entire hallway.

Still not saying a word, he closes the door behind him and advances toward me. Instinctively, I back away, feeling like cornered prey.

“Hello, Yulia,” he murmurs, stopping when we’re out of the hallway. His pale gaze is locked on my face. “I wasn’t expecting to see you like this.”

I swallow, my pulse racing. “I just took a bath.” I want to seem calm and confident, but he’s got me completely off-balance. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“No, I can see that.” A faint smile appears on his lips, softening the hard line of his mouth. “Yet you let me in. Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to continue talking through the door.” I take a steadying breath. “Can I offer you some tea?” It’s a stupid thing to say, given what he’s here for, but I need a few moments to compose myself.

He raises his eyebrows. “Tea? No, thanks.”

“Then can I take your jacket?” I can’t seem to stop playing the hostess, using politeness to cover my anxiety. “It looks quite warm.”

Amusement flickers in his wintry gaze. “Sure.” He takes off his down jacket and hands it to me. He’s left wearing a black sweater and dark jeans tucked into black winter boots. The jeans hug his legs, revealing muscular thighs and powerful calves, and on his belt, I see a gun sitting in a holster.

Irrationally, my breathing quickens at the sight, and it takes a concerted effort to keep my hands from shaking as I take the jacket and walk over to hang it in my tiny closet. It’s not a surprise that he’s armed—it would be a shock if he wasn’t—but the gun is a stark reminder of who Lucas Kent is.

What he is.

It’s no big deal, I tell myself, trying to calm my frayed nerves. I’m used to dangerous men. I was raised among them. This man is not that different. I’ll sleep with him, get whatever information I can, and then he’ll be out of my life.

Yes, that’s it. The sooner I can get it done, the sooner all of this will be over.

Closing the closet door, I paste a practiced smile on my face and turn back to face him, finally ready to resume the role of confident seductress.

Except he’s already next to me, having crossed the room without making a sound.

My pulse jumps again, my newfound composure fleeing. He’s close enough that I can see the gray striations in his pale blue eyes, close enough that he can touch me.

And a second later, he does touch me.

Lifting his hand, he runs the back of his knuckles over my jaw.

I stare up at him, confused by my body’s instant response. My skin warms and my nipples tighten, my breath coming faster. It doesn’t make sense for this hard, ruthless stranger to turn me on. His boss is more handsome, more striking, yet it’s Kent my body’s reacting to. All he’s touched thus far is my face. It should be nothing, yet it’s intimate somehow.

Intimate and disturbing.

I swallow again. “Mr. Kent—Lucas—are you sure I can’t offer you something to drink? Maybe some coffee or—” My words end in a breathless gasp as he reaches for the tie of my robe and tugs on it, as casually as one would unwrap a package.

“No.” He watches as the robe falls open, revealing my naked body underneath. “No coffee.”

All three books in the Capture Me trilogy are now available. Please click HERE to get your copy. If you’d like to find out more, please visit my website at www.annazaires.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anna Zaires is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 international bestselling author of sci-fi romance and contemporary dark erotic romance. She fell in love with books at the age of five, when her grandmother taught her to read. Since then, she has always lived partially in a fantasy world where the only limits were those of her imagination. Currently residing in Florida, Anna is happily married to Dima Zales (a science fiction and fantasy author) and closely collaborates with him on all their works.

To learn more, please visit www.annazaires.com.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Excerpt from Close Liaisons

Excerpt from Twist Me

Excerpt from Capture Me

About the Author