Page 14 of Alien Healer’s Mate

“Absolutely not.” She glanced over her shoulder to catch the corner of his mouth twitching. Barely. Something in the center of her chest fluttered. Great, just bloody great. She was exhausted, and apparently her brain had decided the hottest alien in the galaxy growling at her was flirting.

They reached the top of the ramp.

The interior of the shuttle yawned before them, a corridor of dark panels. She stepped inside, her fingers tightening around the LMP bag.

They walked through the corridors, passing some of the crew. Her eyes widened. Like Kellat, they were all massive. They wore dark leathers and their faces were set in grim lines, eyes front, jaws like granite. None of them so much as cracked a smile.

She tried her best grin on a couple, the one that usually got her free drinks or at least a sympathetic ear, but it was like they looked right through her.

Kellat’s hand stayed at her back, warm and huge, as he steered her past them all. They saw him alright, straightening up and moving aside to let him pass. Gave him that weird deferential space that made her want to roll her eyes. Because of course even the scary alien warriors were scared of him.

Stopping at a door near the end of the corridor, he pressed his palm to the panel, and it hissed open.

“This is yours,” he said, nodding for her to go ahead of him.

She stepped in, looking around. The cabin was obviously meant for one person. It had a bunk bolted to the wall opposite a porthole that looked out on the shuttlebay. The door she’d come through was behind her, and there was another door to her left. Probably a bathroom. It was sparse and military-neat. No personality at all.

Kellat didn’t follow her in. He filled the doorway instead, huge and stern, his violet-blue eyes pinning her in place like she might try to bolt again.

“I’ll be back to check on you shortly,” he said.

Then the door shut and the click echoed in the small space. She stood there a second, staring at the blank metal. Well. Okay then. Abandoned in the murder-shuttle. Awesome.

She turned around. The bed was huge, like everything else that was Latharian. Hoisting herself up onto the edge, she let her legs dangle. Actually dangle. She snorted. She might as well have been a kid at the grown-ups’ table, swinging her feet because they were too short to touch the floor. The mattress dipped under her weight.

She started as a low vibration rolled through the deck. Then another, deeper, thrumming up through her boots and into her bones. Her eyes widened. The ship was moving.

Sliding off the bunk, she crossed to the porthole. Dammit, she was too short; she could only see just over the bottom edge. She had to stand on her tiptoes to press her face against the glass.

The station’s lights blurred past as they lifted off and flew out of the shuttlebay. Then the shuttle banked, pulling away from the station. She craned to look left and caught just the curved edge of Earth. Blue and green, swirled with white.

Her throat tightened for a moment. Home. She pressed her palm to the cold glass, her fingers splayed. It might be home, but there was no one down there for her now. Harper was married and had a whole life Delilah wasn’t part of. Never really had been, if she was honest.

Stop it.

She dropped back onto her heels and took a shaky breath. Okay, she was not doing this. She was not going to sit here and cry like a little girl left behind at the playground. Biting her lip, she turned from the porthole. The cabin was too quiet, the engine vibration no more than a low hum under her feet now. Her gaze cut to the door… time to explore.

Crossing the small space, she grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What the⁠—“

Frowning, she tried it again, but it still wouldn’t move. Had that silver-haired bastard locked her in? She stepped back and glared at it.

“Okay then,” she muttered, looking at the dark panel by the door. Reaching out, she jabbed it with a finger. Nothing. So she jabbed again, harder, then slapped her palm across every button in reach.

A male voice barked from somewhere above her head. “Access denied.”

Delilah blinked as she looked up. There must be speakers embedded in the ceiling somewhere. “What do you mean ‘access denied’?”

“This unit is restricted to crew only.”

She grinned. Oh, she loved a challenge.

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Only crew are permitted access to all ship functions.”

“But why?”