Blood.

  It was deep crimson, and it had a very distinct coppery scent. It decorated the floor in vicious swirls and sprays, coalescing to form a dark pool.

  Beyond the pool lay two bodies.

  Vradhu.

  Calexa gasped.

  She was accustomed to death in all its forms, but this was truly brutal. The dead Vradhu stared up at the ceiling with empty black eyes. From the waist up, their bodies were perfectly intact, to the point where they still clutched their weapons, but from the waist down, their legs had been torn to shreds, leaving mangled skin and flesh in a pool of blood.

  Bile rose in her throat.

  Whoever—or whatever—had done this to them had stripped the bones from their legs.

  Nausea hit Calexa like a punch in the gut. She fought the urge to empty her stomach of all its contents.

  She turned to Ares. He was pure, cold rage, a glittering statue carved from diamonds and ice. As if a large stone had been tossed into a still pond, the floor rippled outwards. Ripples became waves. Tremors turned into an earthquake.

  Ares was at the epicenter, and Calexa stood on unstable ground. She fell to her knees as her world tilted. An ear-splitting metallic groan reverberated throughout the chamber.

  Not again!

  “Ares.”

  He ignored her. The ilverium tempest tossed her across the room. She crashed into a hard surface, barely managing to hang onto her swords.

  “Ares.”

  Ignoring the pain shooting through her neck and back, Calexa scrambled to her feet. Ares moved into the adjacent chamber, ilverium surging at his feet as he walked past his fallen comrades.

  The room tipped again.

  “Ares!” This time, Calexa screamed.

  He stopped. Turned. Blinked with a set of second eyelids that were clear like a reptile’s. Stared at her with cold, silver, alien eyes that could freeze over the lava pits of Endor. It was as if she’d pulled him out of a deep trance. “Sorry about the disturbance. I am very angry right now. I will try and control myself a little better. Follow me… and don’t look at them.” His voice was low and dangerous, and it sent a warning shiver Calexa’s spine. If he weren’t her ally, she would probably be pointing swords at him or running very fast in the other direction.

  Any decent mercenary who had earned their tout-pass in the Fiveways would have split a long time ago, but Calexa couldn’t leave.

  Not now.

  Some insane part of her had become deeply invested in this tortured creature. She wanted him to escape. She was rooting for him.

  Why?

  He muddled her instincts like crazy, pushing her fight-or-flight response into overdrive. He was both stranger and friend. Protector and agitator. Predator and object of desire.

  Monstrous and yet vulnerable.

  Somehow, he reminded her of herself. She knew all too well what it was like to be hopelessly trapped; to have one’s fate dictated by forces beyond one’s control.

  She also knew what it meant to take the threads of fate in one’s hands and twist them until they broke. Some people just refused to accept the status quo. Ares was one of those, and he was dragging her along for the ride.

  Calexa tried to rein in her hammering pulse as they left the mutilated bodies and moved toward the inner chamber, heading for the light. A lurid green glow enveloped them, turning Ares into a dark silhouette.

  Clink. Clink.

  What was that sound? It was high-pitched and strangely melodic, as if someone were chiseling into a rock.

  “Hurry. We don’t know when the Vradhu might come back.” A thin, lilting voice reached her ears. Naaga. It was obvious. The strange aliens all spoke in the same deceptively pleasant tone. “The longer he is in contact with the Hythra, the stronger he grows. I do not understand. The host usually grows weaker over time.”

  “Jara did not calculate all the possibilities when she formulated the plan. She did not envisage that the Corrupted would become so difficult to contain, nor did she predict that the Vradhu would bond with the ship.”

  “Could there be another variable, one we had not factored into the algorithm?”

  “Obviously, something has been missed. Our masters left many secrets behind when they abandoned Khira.”

  “I thought the Hythra was fully mapped and accounted for.”

  Clink. Clink. The tapping went on, punctuating their strange conversation. The floor rolled under her feet, hinting at Ares’s barely restrained violence.

  “We are a young race. We have not yet unlocked all the mysteries of the Universe. The purpose of the Hythra is mostly unknown, and her vast power remains untapped.”

  “The Vradhu has managed to unlock more of it than we ever could have imagined. If only we could control him…”

  Clink. Clink.

  “Better just to eliminate him, along with this infernal body. Are you any closer to breaching the temundra?”

  “This cast is thicker than it looks, and it is far from being ripe. It will take time. Go on ahead. Take the bone samples back to Jara. If he returns, only one of us needs to die. I will destroy this body, even if it costs me my life.”

  “Very well.”

  Ares snuck up on the two Naaga like darkness engulfing twilight. He moved so quietly that Calexa felt like she were watching a hologram with the volume turned down.

  She would have given all of her Arena winnings to possess that kind of stealth. She would have sold her soul to be gifted with his silent, lethal grace.

  Instead, her technigard boots gently scuffed the floor as she followed behind him.

  As they turned the corner, she stifled a gasp.

  A large translucent pod rose up before her like some kind of giant mutated alien flower bud. It was about twice her height, and it was the source of the intense green glow. The external shell of the pod was divided into several segments, each made of a material that reminded her of thickly frosted glass.

  Temundra. That’s what the Naaga had called it.

  There was something inside the pod; a dark shadow.

  Unaware of their approach, two Naaga stood beside the strange device. One of them was tapping the shell of the pod with a thin metal rod. The other Naaga had a long metal cylinder strapped to his back. “The shell is unusually thick,” he said.

  “His kind are bigger. Stronger. More robust. It makes sense that the cloning would warrant a thicker shell. A shame that we cannot salvage this body or harvest his cell lines. They are perfect. What a waste. This body would have been incredibly useful, even in its premature state.”

  “We cannot risk creating another Vradhu bonded, even if this copy lacks conscious will.”

  “Truth. You had better go.”

  “Yes.” The Naaga turned… and met Ares.

  Opalescent eyes widened.

  At the Ares’s command, the floor rose up, and the Naaga found himself speared by a dozen angry tendrils of ilverium. Aside from a soft grunt of pain, there was no reaction.

  Ares unfurled his tail like a whip and ripped the metal cylinder from the Naaga’s back. He rolled it toward Calexa. “Guard it with your life, makivari.”

  “Got it.” Calexa put out her foot to stop the canister.

  A pang of sympathy welled in her chest as she tried to put herself in his place. Calexa had lost friends before. D5 was a brutal place where the average human lifespan was only forty-five standard years. Enhancement therapy was so bloody expensive that very few people were able to access it—unless one went underground.

  She knew what it was like to lose people. It made sense that Ares was barely holding himself together.

  For a scarily powerful alien who could control a spaceship the size of a small city with his mind, that was a precarious place to be.

  Clink. Clink. The other Naaga continued to tap the glowing bud-thing, completely ignoring the fact that his companion had been impaled on sorcerous tendrils of living metal. A deep crack had appeared in the glowing green shell, spanning its entire length. Clear, viscous liquid leaked through the fissure. The dark figure inside started to twitch.

  “How did you get in here?” Ares hissed, his expression utterly fearsome. “How did you breach my barriers?”

  Sinister vines of ilverium coiled around the Naaga’s limbs, drawing tendrils of emerald colored blood. The blue alien stared back at Ares, not saying a word.

  He was almost… smirking.

  What kind of madness was this?

  Ares growled and wrapped his large hand around the creature’s neck. His silver eyes looked more reptilian than ever as they flicked back in the direction of the outer chamber, where the mutilated Vradhu bodies lay. “You did that?”

  The Naaga stared back at him in insolent silence. Ares tightened his grip and the alien wheezed, his slender legs dangling in the air.

  Clink. Clink. Still, the other Naaga kept chipping away at the giant pod, increasing the speed of his hits.

  “Forget the temundra. Get the cells,” the dangling Naaga spluttered. “Run.”

  His companion looked up and nodded. He stood and lurched toward Calexa. The crack in the temundra had widened. Thick, gel-like liquid started to pool on the floor, reflecting the eerie green light and the slender silhouette of the Naaga.

  Calexa didn’t waste time. She danced forward, putting herself between the canister and the blue alien.

  “Don’t you dare, pyshtana!” Ares roared, his voice deafening inside the small chamber. “Do not touch that container. You will not have them!” Ilverium surged out of the floor and engulfed the Naaga.

  Instinctively reacting to the grief and anger in Ares’s voice, Calexa ran her blade straight through the Naaga’s chest, where she guessed the heart would be. But even though he was bound by Ares’s ilverium, the Naaga kept coming.

  “What does it take to kill these bastards?” Calexa stabbed her second blade into the alien’s chest, this time aiming for the right side.

  Emerald blood spurted from the Naaga’s mouth. Finally, the alien stopped and gave up his last breath. Calexa put her foot against his stomach and kicked the body away. The dead alien slid off her bone blades and slumped to the floor.

  “They have two hearts,” Ares said softly. “You have to stab them twice. I could have handled it, but… thank you.”

  “For guys who don’t have weapons, they’re surprisingly hard to kill.” Suddenly, she was breathless. “Why don’t they fight properly? What’s with this weird resistance?”

  “Supposedly, it is a defect of temperament. When the Drakhin created them, they were designed to be submissive. They aren’t capable of violence in the way that you and I are, so they resort to more indirect means. Poison. Sabotage. Threats. Strength in numbers.” His features twisted into an expression of disgust. “They do not value life.” As he spoke, he crushed the windpipe of the Naaga with his bare hand. The alien’s pearlescent eyes went blank.

  Calexa was no stranger to violence, but Ares’s sudden display of brutality shocked her. At the same time, she wanted to laugh hysterically at the irony it all. “And you do?” Horror must have shown on her face, because a look of anguish crossed Ares’s features.

  “This is all wrong,” he said softly. “Many orbits ago, before the Dark One appeared and caused the divergence of our people, Khira was a paradise. We wanted for nothing and knew no evil. If the Naaga had left us alone, I would have let them be, but they have disturbed my people greatly.”

  A violent shudder rocked the chamber, and the dead Naaga’s body was swallowed by a tide of moving metal, as if Ares were offering it up as a sacrifice to the ship.

  A savage look crossed his face. His anger was truly scary, because she didn’t know what he would do; didn’t know what he was really capable of.

  Dread welled in the pit of Calexa’s stomach. She glanced at Ares, then at the glowing green bud, which had almost lost all of its fluid. It was slowly starting to open, like a giant mutated flower. “And what is that? Should we kill it?”

  “No!” Ares became a blur of motion. Suddenly, his hand was on her arm. “Wait. It is…” His fierce expression melted, exposing something unexpectedly raw and vulnerable. A sigh escaped his lips. “Just wait. You will see.”

  He bent down and picked up the metal tube at Calexa’s feet. He was careful with it, almost reverent. His big silver hand went over the lid. Ares opened it, looked inside with a baleful expression, nodded, and closed it again.

  Relief crossed his face.

  “Ares, please tell me that whatever’s inside that tube isn’t dangerous.”

  “There’s no threat in here. This contains the bones of my clan-brothers, nothing more.” A terrible sadness crept into his voice, and he squeezed her arm. The impermeable fabric of her thermosuit protected her from his vir-draining touch. It was such a simple action, but it sent a pleasant shiver through her. Little by little, she was starting to peel back his layers, like an onion.

  Ares wasn’t the bad guy here. He was violent and conflicted and probably traumatized—just like Calexa—but he wasn’t an asshole.

  Calexa did something she never thought she would have felt like doing, not in a million years.

  She reached out for Ares’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” he said sharply, refusing her hand. He stepped back. “It… It is not wise to touch me when I am like this. I…” To her astonishment, his voice cracked. There was a desperate edge to it, as if he were trying very hard to contain something wild and terrifying.

  “You don’t want to?”

  “It isn’t that.” His denial was swift and absolute. “As I said before, this form I have taken is an abomination. Your vir swirls around you like the most potent and intoxicating drug, and I fear that if I tap into it, I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Y-you…” Calexa shook her head, astonished and slightly afraid. Ares could sense the fucking life-force swirling around her, and he wanted to… eat her soul?

  He wanted to touch her. She shuddered, in a good way. The thought was unexpectedly powerful.

  “The truth is, I would very much like to take your… hand, but for now, this is enough.”

  “Vir. New alien body. Scary temptation. Got it.” She nodded, clamping her mouth shut.

  Sometimes, it was better not to say anything at all.

  So instead of touching, they stood side-by-side, sharing a moment of unexpected affection as the bizarre and utterly alien pod-thing began to unfurl.

  Somehow, on a floating death-trap in an unknown corner of the Universe, they’d found something in common, a way to transcend the chasm between them.

  And now here she was, comforting a lethal, winged alien—a supernaturally transformed alien—as they watched the temundra give up its mysterious contents.

  As the segments of the pod fell away, Ares inhaled sharply.

  Calexa gasped.

  The dark figure inside the bud was a very naked, very wet Vradhu. He fell to the floor, limp and unresponsive and slick with moisture, his striking purple skin glistening in the cold light. His chest rose and fell in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm.

  At least he breathed! Thank the stars.

  The Vradhu lay flat on his back with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed. Calexa couldn’t help but stare. Burning curiosity gave way to admiration.

  In his pure, naked form, the Vradhu was beautiful. His deep violet skin was incredibly vivid, and it glistened with moisture. The contours and planes of his magnificent body were sculptural and perfect; he was clearly built for power and speed. Tendrils of long hair fanned around his head, creating an abstract black crown that accentuated the striking lines on the his face.

  The black markings on his face were a shade lighter than Ares’s, and as they extended downward they spared his chest, appearing on the sides of his neck and the backs of his arms.

  Interesting.

  Her gaze roamed down his body. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to see what was…

  Holy hell.

  An impossibly broad chest. Pecs so chiseled they could have been carved from marble. A perfect six… no, was that an eight-pack of abs? Nature seemed to have thrown an extra set of muscles in there. She followed the contours of his defined abs as they tapered into a vee, leading down to his groin.

  Having just been ejected from an oversized frosted-glass flower bud, he was completely naked. Of course he was. Curiosity almost burned her to a crisp as she stared at his… manhood.

  For some reason, her messed-up brain chose that stupid old-fashioned Earthian word to refer to his cock.

  Big was the second word that entered her head. To her surprise, his impressive cock wasn’t so different to a human one. Why was that so… unexpected?

  Calexa mentally slapped herself. What had she been expecting? Exotic alien junk? The Khral had been bad enough. She shuddered.

  Ares was staring at her, following the direction of her gaze.

  “He is young,” he whispered. “His markings haven’t fully emerged, and he is not yet beaded.”

  “Beaded?” Calexa blinked. Ares nodded in the direction of…

  She made a silent O with her mouth. Beaded. That sounded… interesting. An almost-smile tugged at Ares’s lips. The hungry look had returned, turning his silver eyes molten.

  “What do you make of him? Ugly brute, isn’t he?” There was something in Ares’s voice; a certain sense of expectation.

  “Ugly? No way. As far as species go, I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse.”

  “Do you find him… pleasing to look at?”

  What the hell kind of question is that? He’s fucking magnificent! “He’s not bad,” she said, giving Ares the side-eye. What a strange question. Nervous heat crept into her cheeks, and she started to become restless. There was a naked Vradhu on the floor, damn-it! She mentally berated herself for getting distracted. “What’s wrong with him? Why is he unconscious?”

  Ares was strangely calm. “There is no need for concern. That body lacks awareness. That’s all.”

  That body… that face. Calexa took a closer look at the purple figure. His eyes were closed and his features were composed. Lying in that dark, reflective pool, he looked rather peaceful. He had the same high, noble forehead, sharply slanted eyes, and broad, sloping nose as the rest of the Vradhu. His lips were full and tempting. His chin was prominent, his jawline strong.