“Hunters are natural observers,” he rumbled. “We see, hear, smell, feel, sense. You let me in. I’m just doing what your body tells me. You’re the one who’s in charge here, human.”

  “Oh?” Somehow, she doubted that, and whatever witty repartee she’d been considering fell apart completely as Ares rubbed his soft and deadly tail against her throbbing clit, sending her to a place she’d never known before.

  Holy hell, is this what it’s really like?

  She’d heard the stories and thought they were exaggerations. Surely nothing in the Universe could feel that good.

  But now she was here in his arms, moving closer and closer to a place that went beyond her wildest imaginings.

  No male had ever cared about her pleasure before.

  A wonderful tension was building in her core. Hunger. Deep, desperate need. Yearning.

  Who knew these things could feel so damn sweet?

  Her hips rocked back and forth in response to Ares’s sublime caress. “Don’t hold back anymore,” she groaned. For the first time in her life, she felt truly free.

  “Are you sure?” His question was soft, tentative, hopeful.

  “Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

  He growled. She opened her eyes. His expression stole her breath away, even as he held her on the edge of climax.

  Fierce. He would never let her go.

  The black markings on his face deepened, turning him into something truly mythical and otherworldly. The look in his eyes was pure possessiveness, laced with a hint of ecstasy.

  He withdrew his tail, leaving her hanging. A powerful loop coiled around her waist and they turned, becoming a graceful tangle bodies and limbs.

  Now he was on top.

  He smiled, baring sharp silver canines. “You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you.” As she throbbed with the afterglow of his attention, Calexa ran her hands down his body, appreciating his perfect new form. So impossible. He was younger, smoother, completely untouched by the ravages of life.

  A test-tube perfect specimen.

  All mine.

  Ares tightened the loop around her waist and brought her against him. His cock strained against her lower belly, and she reached down, curving her fingers around his smooth, hard length. Her heart soared. “Technically, you’re a virgin.” She met his grin with an exuberant smile of her own.

  “In the purest sense, I am. In our clan, it is rare for Hunters to mate.”

  Ohh…

  Calexa moved her hand up-and-down, eliciting a sharp gasp. Ares’s smile disappeared as he closed his eyes and shuddered. “Oh, Calexa.” Her name rolled off his tongue like water. He cupped her breasts, thumbing her pert nipples. “Even in my wildest dreams, I did not ever think I would be so fortunate.”

  “I’m the lucky one. I didn’t think someone like you could exist.” She pumped harder, faster, eliciting a flash of silver teeth. “You’re perfect.”

  “So are you.” He moved over her, planting slow, sensual kisses in the hollow of her neck, just above her collarbone. He ran the loop of his tail all over her body, caressing everything all at once. Powerful arms closed around her and he ran his hands down her spine until he reached her hips.

  “I can’t hold back any longer,” he growled, and guided her toward him.

  A low, tremulous moan escaped her lips as Ares entered her.

  Slowly, he went deeper and deeper, drawing pleasure from places she didn’t even know about as he stretched her sensitive flesh.

  She cried out, her soft voice melding with his deep, hoarse groan as their bodies joined and they discovered the sublime.

  Together.

  They moved as one, fucking slowly, powerfully, each responding to the other’s innate rhythm. Her hands were all over him, and he held her close, his powerful tail locked around her waist.

  Awestruck, she let him take charge. He seemed to sense the change, because his movements became a little more savage.

  Bit by bit, he built the intensity of his lovemaking, thrusting into her with more and more force, until something inside him broke, and he could hold back no longer.

  He slammed into her with all the power of a celestial storm, fucking her long and hard and proper, and Calexa went with him, riding his Vradhu fury with reckless abandon.

  His hands were everywhere. His damn tail was everywhere, all at once. Wrapped in a passionate cocoon of warm limbs and tender Vradhu, all she could do was go with the flow, and it felt so good and innocent and pure.

  It felt right.

  Ares tensed, gripping her more tightly as he increased his speed.

  So close.

  Such blissful torture. She’d never imagined this kind of sensation—this fine line between pleasure and desperation—could exist.

  Crying out, Calexa dug her nails into his broad back. Her action drove Ares into a frenzy. He rose up onto his knees, bringing her with him, his firm grip on her waist never wavering. Her legs curled around his waist. Her arms locked around his neck. They kissed again, passionately, fervently, drowning in each other’s need.

  “A-aah…” Steadying herself, Calexa pressed her palms flat against the roof of her sleeping pod. Her position defied gravity, but it didn’t matter. Ares would never let her fall.

  “Tenashka,” he growled, and slammed home for the last time. Calexa arched her back, pleasure cascading through her body as he encircled her with his muscular arms.

  She screamed.

  A low, throaty sigh escaped Ares as he came, filling her with his warm seed. He continued to thrust his hips, drawing more and more of that impossible, blissful sensation out of her quivering core.

  Her orgasm rose from deep within. She lost her grip on the ceiling, lost her bearing on reality. All she knew was Ares; his scent, his warmth, his touch, his essence.

  Twined with hers.

  Blowing her mind.

  Taking her beyond ecstasy.

  How could anything feel this fucking good?

  “Urrgh…” Her growl of pleasure was raw and primal. It crescendoed into a wild, heaving gasp as she ran her hands through Ares’s hair, looking for an anchor point.

  Her universe shattered into a billion fragments as the climax tore her apart…

  And made her whole again, at last.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As Ares stroked velvety fingertips over her bare scalp, a low rumble started in his chest. They were both quiet, content to simply enjoy one another’s company after mind-blowing sex.

  Calexa was happily spent. She wished she could stay in his arms for days, ignoring the chaos that awaited them outside the thin metal walls of her quarters.

  The rumbling sound coming from Ares grew louder… was he… purring?

  “I take it you’re somewhat content,” she said softly.

  “Mhmm.”

  “And somehow, this… us… It’s perfect.”

  “Mhmm.” He nodded, his bare chest resonating with that delicious throaty purr. It made her legs turn to jelly all over again.

  “You know, we’re surprisingly compatible.”

  “This surprises you?” He

  “I never thought I’d find someone who could… handle me.” She rolled over and met his gaze. “I’m not exactly the most…” Lost for words, Calexa shrugged.

  I’m fucked up. That’s what she was trying to say, but she got the feeling Ares would disagree.

  “We are both outsiders,” Ares said, the rumble in his chest fading. “You are brave, intelligent, and honorable. You fight like a demon. You wear your scars with dignity. What makes you think you would not be a good mate for me?”

  Coming from him, such words were powerful. They were a balm to the dark part of her that screamed unworthy a thousand times over.

  It was time to silence the bitch once and for all.

  “I am a Hunter,” Ares continued. “Amongst our people, Hunters are considered poor mating stock. We exist to hunt deadly beasts and we die young, rarely living beyond thirty orbits. Although there are rare exceptions, most Vradhu females will not look at us.”

  “You live just to fight?”

  “That is our duty. The kratok we hunt give life to our people. The meat of those beasts becomes our sustenance when the waterplains of the Ardu-Sai run dry, and they need to be culled, otherwise they would overpopulate the plains and destroy our clan.”

  “So your role as a Hunter is vital to the survival of your people, and yet none of them will have you?” Calexa shook her head in disbelief. Maybe it was a cultural difference, but she didn’t understand these Vradhu females at all.

  “Survival.” Ares shrugged, his lips quirking upward in an ironic smile. “Life in the Ardu-Sai is beautiful but harsh. You will fit in just fine.”

  As Ares gazed at her, his expression became distant, his dark eyes glossing over.

  There was that look again. Unease swirled in the pit of her stomach, because of course this had to be too good to be true.

  There was always a catch.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ares’s eyes turned wide. His face revealed complete and utter shock.

  Slowly, his expression turned to horror. “I… I don’t know.” He closed his eyes, and somehow, Calexa got the feeling he wasn’t there anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He was still on the Hythra.

  Impossible! Ares groaned as excruciating pain shot through his Drakhin body. He stared up at the dark metal ceiling, his heart aching.

  How?

  Calexa was gone.

  Their time together had been better than anything he’d ever experienced in his short and brutal life.

  More than anything, he wanted to go to her.

  Was fate really this cruel?

  His voice cracked as he gasped in agony. It was as if someone had stabbed him in the chest with a pair of bone swords.

  Of course.

  He lay on the floor, the krivera sticking out of his chest.

  He’d done this to himself as the human ship had drifted out of the airlock. In theory, he was just as bad as the Corrupted, and he should have decapitated himself, but that was impossible, so he’d done the next best thing and impaled himself on his krivera.

  Madness. His plan had been sheer madness, but hope had gotten the better of him, and for a moment he’d thought it had worked… he thought he’d woken up beside her.

  Never.

  There was no way he could have imagined something like that.

  So why the fuck was he back on this floating death-pit, and who did he have to kill to get back to his makivari?

  Aside from himself, of course.

  I didn’t give you permission to leave, Hunter.

  I’ll destroy you, he vowed, cursing the ship, or entity, or figment of his mad imagination, or whatever the fuck she was.

  The Hythra seemed to chuckle at that.

  Ares growled and wrapped his hands around the krivera jutting from his chest. He couldn’t reach the hilts, so he gripped the blades themselves. Finely honed bone sliced through his ilverium-tainted flesh, sending sharp agony through his palms.

  He pulled, and pulled, grunting in pain as he cursed himself for being so fucking proficient at killing.

  The blades were embedded hard and deep, and the effort of removing them shredded his hands to ribbons.

  Somehow, the ilverium in his body repaired his flesh, knitting his palms back together, and bit by agonizing bit, the blades slid out of his chest; out of his slowly beating heart.

  How in Aethra’s cursed abyss was he still alive? He tossed the blades aside and sat up, gasping heavily as he clutched his chest. Silver threads drew across his wounds, knitting together bone and muscle and lung.

  Ares staggered to his feet, looking around with wild eyes. He was in the airlock, alone. Pure silence was his companion. The Naaga, the Corrupted, the humans… they were all gone.

  Calexa was gone.

  Her vir still flowed through his veins, a bittersweet reminder of everything he’d lost. It granted him immense strength; the power he’d wielded before was a mere fraction of what he was capable of now.

  He would give it all up in a heartbeat if he could be with her again, and if he couldn’t…

  He was going to take down this entire fucking ship and everyone on it. The Naaga should have done their research before messing with a Vradhu Hunter.

  Anger surged through him as he walked across the metal floor. It rippled outwards as his feet made contact with the ilverium surface. He cast his senses wide, connecting with the heart of the ship.

  Freed of the makeshift barriers Ares had constructed, the Naaga roamed everywhere. They were in the corridors. They were in the command pod.

  Vermin. Eradicate them, Hunter.

  He ignored the Hythra’s incessant ramblings as he spread his wings wide, experimentally flapping them through the air. Cursed limbs. They had to be good for something, right? Ares beat the air again and again, increasing the speed of the movements.

  Suddenly, his feet left the ground.

  Shit. He lost control, careening into a wall.

  Stupid, if you want to reach the command chair quickly, just run, or go through the floor.

  Ares flapped his right wing, correcting his balance. He managed to hover clumsily in the air through an awkward combination of wing movements and constant balancing of his body.

  Running would indeed be easier, but he was in a destructive mood. If everything went to plan, he might never get the chance to use these cursed appendages, so it was now or never.

  Apart from sitting on the back of a kratok, this was the only chance he would get to learn how to fly.

  Hovering was the first step. He had that down. Angling his body slightly, he scooped the air with his wings, generating a current.

  He moved.

  Ah. That was how it worked. It was a bit like skiing; once one got a feel for it, it became natural.

  Yes. He flapped his wings again, gaining momentum. Overbalancing, he swooped to one side, one of his wingtips grazing the floor. With great effort, he corrected himself, climbing up into the cavernous ceiling.

  Anger gave him strength, and the dizzying height didn’t bother him—after all, he’d ridden on the backs of soaring winged kratok, running along their sinuous backs as he made his way toward the head—toward their only known weak spot.

  Something inside his brain clicked, and he flapped his wings again, creating a fluid slipstream that propelled him across the airlock and into the hold.

  He was flying.

  He was actually flying.

  Ares soared and dipped, getting the hang of his new wings. Gaining speed and confidence, he shot out into the vast corridor, heading in the direction of the command pod.

  Now he understood why the Drakhin had made their ceilings so high, their halls so wide.

  Everything was done on a grand scale just so they could fly through their own fucking ship.

  Pompous assholes.

  He sped toward his destination, marveling at the ease with which he moved through the air.

  How scary.

  It was a good thing the Drakhin no longer inhabited Khira. One could describe them as Vradhu with wings and scales, and just like the Vradhu, they had a reputation for being vicious and fearsome warriors.

  Suddenly, his body felt heavy. His wings drooped, and some mysterious force pulled him back down toward the floor, until he had no choice but to set his feet upon the hard metal surface.

  Of course, that was the bond, calling him back to the Hythra. He should have known. Breaking contact with any part of the ship’s surface for just a brief period of time was enough to make him weak.

  It was why Calexa had almost been able to best him when he’d first set foot on her ship. Oh, she was a skilled enough fighter, but to go toe-to-toe with an ilverium-wielding Vradhu Hunter was an impressive feat in itself.

  His makivari.

  How he missed her. A Vradhu Hunter never expected to find a mate in this life, but he’d come so blissfully close.

  Was it still possible to reach the surface of Khira when he was still bonded to this cursed thing? Would he ever see her again?

  The worst thing about it all was that he couldn’t even kill anyone to make himself feel better. He was stuck here, alone, amongst monsters, and he was the worst kind of monster.

  A vengeful one.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Finally, Ares reached the command-pod, where dozens of Naaga were throwing themselves onto the sekkhoi throne. They formed a writhing swarm of bodies; a sea of blue-and-white chaos amidst the cold splendor of the command pod.

  Insanity. What were the fools doing? Nothing the Naaga did made sense. He still didn’t understand what they stood to gain by being on the Hythra. Why were they trying to take control of this defective ship? Aside from its ilverium body, what dark power did the Hythra contain to make her so alluring to the blue ones?

  One of the Naaga shook his head in confusion, unaware of Ares’s approach. Several of the blue ones turned toward the speaker. “The Vradhu is dead. Why is the Hythra not responding to our advances? Surely she must now accept a Naaga commander again. There is no-one else left to occupy the seat.”

  “Perhaps he broke her,” one of the others murmured.

  “Impossible. Drakhin technology is indestructible.” The Naaga spoke amongst themselves in low, muted tones as they discussed secrets and truths that were well beyond Ares’s ken.

  “Jara said the Hythra itself had become corrupted; that the artificial intelligence driving it was saturated with the minds and memories of too many souls, both Drakhin and Naaga.”

  “And the Vradhu? What was he to the Hythra?”

  “The scientists did a cellular analysis on the barbarian. Vradhu genetic makeup is remarkably similar to that of our former masters.”

  “These Vradhu do resemble Drakhin.”

  “A related species?”