Doors on the side of the vehicle rose open, and several people climbed out.
Big, muscular people.
Oh, shit. They wore high-tech-looking suits in dark metallic gray, touched with some red. They all had “badass fighter” written all over them. There were five men and one woman. Each one was holding a weapon.
They stared at her, her ship, and then the dead beast.
A man strode forward.
A hell of a man.
Mal straightened. He wore a molded, metallic armor over his powerful chest with a medallion set in the center, and it showed every carved muscle in his torso and abdomen. Her gaze snagged on the corded muscles of his biceps, and he had thick bracer-like bands on his forearms. High-tech leather pants tucked into heavy boots and the hilts of two swords peeked over his broad shoulders.
He managed to look like some futuristic barbarian warrior come to life.
His steps were sure, unhurried, like a predator who knew he was the top of the food chain. He looked like he owned the place. Power throbbed off him, and she could feel it on her skin, like she’d gotten too close to a fire.
Liquid-silver eyes met hers. She felt the weight of that gaze, loaded with power and authority. The breeze made his longish, black hair dance around his face. That face. Mal felt every feminine instinct inside her sit up and do the rhumba. Strong jaw, rugged lines, aggressively masculine.
He said something in an unfamiliar language and gestured at the dead beast. His voice was deep, with a touch of sexy grit. It also had that confident, decisive ring to it that only people used to giving orders could pull off.
She rubbed her cheek. Oh crap, she was covered in blood.
“I have no idea what you’re saying—” she pointed at the beast “—but I killed that, yes.”
The man’s eyes churned like molten metal. He started talking again.
“Hey, big guy in charge, sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to pass out now.”
All of Mal’s strength left her. Her headache clamped on her skull with a claw-like grip, making her want to whimper.
As she pitched forward, the last thing she saw was the warrior lunging to catch her.
Chapter Three
Rhain lifted the woman into his arms.
She didn’t weigh as much as he’d expected. He didn’t recognize the design or color of her spacesuit.
His gaze traced over the strong lines of her face. She had a small scar that bisected her left eyebrow and a small, dark mark high on her right cheekbone. Before she’d passed out, he noted that she had unique eyes—a pale green, with gold flecks.
“Looks like remnants of a ship.” Thadd eyed the smoking wreckage.
“Scan it,” Rhain ordered. “She needs a medica.”
His captain lifted his wrist and touched his projecta band. Blue light projected up and Thadd swiped through it, then a beam of light shot out and scanned the smoldering ruins of twisted metal.
Narla, one of his fighters, stepped forward. She crouched by the dead hexid. “That female took down a hexid… With a hunk of metal.”
Yes, she had. Rhain shifted the unconscious woman’s weight. “I’ll get her aboard the rugger. Make it quick, Thadd, I want to get back to Citadel.”
The side of the rugger was open, and a fighter with a charged sword stood to attention, standing guard.
Rhain strode straight up the ramp and settled on one of the seats that lined both sides of the vehicle.
The woman stirred. He saw that she’d been clawed by the hexid and was bleeding. She bled red like them, but her musculature was not as dense as a Zhalton.
She wasn’t from here.
He fingered her brown hair. It felt like gossamer silk. Much finer than Zhalton hair.
Finally, his fighters boarded.
Rhain nodded at the driver. He felt a familiar flare of energy as the rugger’s engine powered up.
They set off across the green landscape.
“The scan?” Rhain asked.
“The ship was a mix of metals of some sort,” Thadd said. “Not particularly strong. No signs of nadian or craxma.”
The most common metals used in any vehicles or ships in the Sarkany system.
“So, she’s not from here.” That didn’t rule out her being one of his father’s agents. Zavir was smart and cunning.
“Her technology appears…primitive,” Thadd said.
“We’ll know more once she wakes.” Rhain looked down at her. It appeared that her nose had been broken once before and hadn’t healed correctly.
One thing was for sure, she was a warrior.
She’d survived a crash, and taken down a hexid alone.
That meant she was tough.
And dangerous.
Yes, Zavir knew Rhain well enough. Knew Rhain would render aid to someone in trouble, especially a woman. His father was clever enough to send a spy in who would slip under Rhain’s defenses.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
He glanced out the rugger’s windshield. The last rays of the sun were almost gone. They were close to the Barrens here, and sometimes beasts slipped out to hunt. But in his head, he was remembering Renkitis Outpost. It had been a farming community, attacked by his father’s creatures a few days ago. They’d slaughtered everyone.
Rhain’s hands tightened on the woman, darkness stirring in his chest. No one killed his people and got away with it. If this woman was one of his father’s agents, she would die.
The vehicle jolted over some rough ground, but soon, they reached a main road to Citadel, and picked up speed.
He held the female fighter tighter. She made a small sound, her face pressed against the fabric of his armor. She had skin touched with gold, and very long eyelashes.
“Careful, Rhain,” Thadd said. “We have no idea who she is, or where she comes from. No idea how dangerous she is. It is very likely your father sent her. She could be Zhylaw.”
“She’s not Zhylaw.” The Zhylaw were smaller, more compact, with dark hair and dark eyes. They’d long ago stopped using their bodies for physical means, and depended more on their brains.
They weren’t warriors.
Finally, the farmlands and fields of rainbow-colored flowers gave way to the forests near Citadel. They’d be home soon.
Night had fallen, and auroras filled the sky in greens, blues, and pinks—dancing and dipping. Every night, thanks to the planet’s strong magnetic field, they were witnesses to the extraordinary lights in the sky.
The mountains and Citadel appeared.
The mountains formed a roughly circular valley, and the city of Citadel was nestled inside. The rugger drove up the large, stone bridge leading to the fortified entrance to the city.
The gates opened and they drove through.
Every time he saw his city, Rhain’s chest filled with warmth. Buildings of gleaming white stone cascaded down the sides of the mountains, and large terraces cut into the cliffs bustled with life. Towers speared into the air, topped with roofs of red and gold metal. Trees grew in pots and garden beds dotted all over the city.
They drove over a bridge, crossing over the lake in the center and headed for the royal palace.
This was where Rhain had grown up, knowing he would one day rule. His mother had refused to let him go to Zavir and Rhain had been happy to stay here. This was his home.
Several palace guards stood to attention at the palace’s main entrance, waiting for them.