CHAPTER ONE
Mikoz’s tiny fist clenched in Corinne’s shirt, his weight warm against her chest as she stumbled over another rock. Behind her, Anya’s breathing came in harsh gasps. Her stepdaughter hadn’t complained once since they’d fled the wreckage, but her steps had grown heavier with each mile. How far had they come? Five? Ten? She had no idea.
The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, black rock formations jutting up like broken teeth from the rust-colored sand and a sky the color of old bruises, growing darker by the minute.
She adjusted the makeshift sling that held Mikoz and glanced back. Anya’s face was pale beneath the coating of dust, her dark auburn hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. The oversized jacket she’d scavenged from the wrecked shuttle hung off her thin shoulders.
“How much farther do you think?” Anya’s voice cracked, from exhaustion or fear or both.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. She had no idea where they were going. The flight had been a desperate escape from the crash site and the possibility that the Vedeckians—the aliens who had abducted them from Earth—might come looking for their missing cargo. She didn’t know why they’d been bundled onto the small shuttle or what had caused the explosion that led to the crash.
All she knew was that the pilot had died in the crash, his blood a lurid purple splatter against the white interior of the shuttle, and that anything had seemed like a better alternative than being returned to the ship to be separated and sold. Now she wasn’t so sure. She’d assumed that the shuttle had been headed for a destination, that there would be some kind of life on this planet. She was no longer convinced.
They’d seen no life of any kind, no signs of water, and night was coming fast.
Mikoz made a soft sound against her collarbone. Not crying, not yet, but she could feel the tension in his small body. He was hungry, and she wasn’t sure how long the nutrient powder she’d taken from the wreck would last. Or the water to mix with it.
She forced herself to keep walking, one foot in front of the other. The rocks here were sharper, cutting through the thin soles of the sneakers she’d been wearing since they were taken. Behind her, she heard Anya stumble and whirled around in time to catch the girl’s arm before she fell. Her skin felt hot and feverish even through the jacket sleeve. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m fine,” Anya muttered.
“I know you are.” She squeezed her stepdaughter’s shoulder. “But let’s take a break. That outcropping up ahead looks like it might give us some shelter.”
The rocks formed a rough overhang, barely large enough for the three of them but better than nothing. She helped Anya down and the girl immediately leaned back against the rock, eyes already drooping.
“Just for a minute,” she mumbled.
“Take your time, sweetheart.”
She eased Mikoz out of the sling and cradled him in her arms. He stared up at her with those big black eyes, his tail wrapped firmly around her wrist. Ten months old, and from what his mother Amalia had told her, he’d spent most of his short life in captivity. Amalia had died on the Vedeckian ship, begging Corinne with her last breath to protect him. She’d promised, even though they both knew it was a hollow promise.
She looked out at the darkening landscape. No lights, no buildings, no signs of civilization at all. She didn’t even know what planet this was, much less where to find help.Maybe there isn’t any help to find.
No.She couldn’t think like that. If she did, she’d give in to despair, and Anya and Mikoz needed her. She couldn’t fall apart now.
She pushed the thought away and looked up at the hill rising behind their shelter. Not much of a hill, really, more of a ridge, but higher ground meant better visibility. If there were lights anywhere, settlements or outposts or even just another crash site with usable supplies, she might be able to spot them from up there.
Anya was already asleep, her chest rising and falling in the shallow rhythm of exhaustion as she slumped back against the rock wall. She settled Mikoz carefully next to her, tucking the jacket around both of them. The air had a bite to it already, and she suspected it would grow even colder overnight.
The climb took longer than she’d expected. The rocks were loose and her legs shook with fatigue. Her interest in exercise had always been more theoretical than actual and a month in a cell on a Vedeckian ship hadn’t helped. Twice she had to stop and rest, fighting the urge to just sit down and give up.
The top of the ridge was bare and windswept. She turned in a slow circle, scanning the horizon in every direction. Nothing. Just more desert, more rocks, and more alien sky.
Her vision blurred. She blinked hard but the tears came anyway, and she pressed her fist against her mouth to muffle the sobs that wanted to escape. Crying wasn’t going to change anything. Somehow she had to find a way to keep those two children alive.
But how?She was a professor of literature, for god’s sake, not a survivalist. What did she know about navigating alien planets or evading traffickers or keeping two children alive in a wasteland?
The wind picked up, carrying grains of sand that stung her cheeks. She wiped her eyes roughly and took a shaky breath.Enough.She needed to get back to Anya and Mikoz, and then figure out their next move. They would spend the night under the overhang. In the morning, they would pick a direction and hope for the best. Or they could return to the wreckage. Assuming the Vedeckians came looking for them, they’d be back in captivity, but they’d be alive.
She started down the slope, and her feet slipped on the loose scree. She tried to catch herself and knew she wasn’t going to succeed. She braced herself for a fall, but instead she collided with something solid and warm and very definitely not a rock. Arms like steel bands caught her, steadying her against a massive chest.
She looked up, a very long way up, to a face that was most definitely not human. Angular, slightly reptilian features, a wide thin-lipped mouth, and a flattened nose—the adult version of Mikoz’s softer features. He also had green skin, textured like Mikoz’s but darker, with patches of deeper emerald. He had to be the same species, even though it was almost impossible to imagine the small infant she’d been carrying all day growing into such an enormous warrior.
At least six and a half feet tall, maybe more, his presence seemed to fill the entire ridge top, blocking out the dying light. Their eyes met, his huge and dark, and something flared between them before panic took over. Her heart stopped, then started again, hammering against her ribs so hard she thought it might break through. She tried to jerk away but his grip held firm—not painful, just utterly immovable, like trying to pull free from stone.
“Be still,” he commanded, his voice a deep, low rumble that was oddly soothing. At least the translation implant the Vedeckians had given her worked on his language as well. “Are you alone?”
Oh, God. Anya. Mikoz.What if he meant them harm? She hadn’t spent enough time with Amalia to know if her own people had sold her into captivity, but she had heard the Vedeckians talking about Mikoz’s value.
