I stood up with a growl. The sun brushed against the horizon, threatening to sleep. There was no sign of my underlings—and that meant no sign of dinner.

  “I have to do everything myself,” I muttered under my breath. “Stay here, Kookee. I will find you a meal.”

  Kookee peeked one massive eye open, then fell back asleep.

  I trudged into my den, a cavernous opening beneath the waterfall. It was packed with my belongings. I scanned the piles of items until I found what I sought. Grabbing the wooden stake, I yanked it from the pile and stalked outside.

  Doing the dirty work myself was irritating, but I was the only competent hunter among us. My underlings still clung to their fruit-eater ways, finding it difficult to eat meat, and therefore, difficult to hunt. They were as weak as the Maeleons back at the village I’d abandoned.

  But I was strong. I would find food.

  Holding the snare in my tentacles, I dropped to all fours and ran into the wilds. My red hide was well-camouflaged in the sunset light. But I didn’t want to expend too much energy hunting, hence the snare. I’d set it up and wait for an unsuspecting meal to walk right into my trap. Watching my prey dangle helplessly in front of me was a rush.

  I licked my lips expectantly. What would I catch tonight? The possibilities excited me. The snare was strong enough to hold a large creature’s foot, and agile enough to capture a small beast. I’d be pleased either way, since my incompetent underlings would probably return empty-handed.

  I stopped at the perfect trap location. It was a small, forested nook with trees for shelter and a built-in alcove for a makeshift den. Any wandering creature would seize this opportunity for a safe place to sleep. All I had to do was set the snare in front of the den, and boom—dinner was served.

  I crouched by the alcove and shoved the stake into the ground. The trailing rope was crafted from the toughest plant material; nothing could chew or claw their way through it. I hid the loop beneath the leaf debris and concealed the wooden stake by scattering the area with similar branches.

  Satisfied with the snare, I stepped away. The only thing missing was bait. I glanced up at the trees and saw a bright pink fruit dangling from a branch. I snatched the thing with my tentacle and tossed it close to the alcove. Free food and a bed—it was the perfect trap for anything dumb enough to crawl into it.

  I backed up a short distance, crouched low to the ground, and let my scales do their job. My red hide disappeared as my body camouflaged itself with my surroundings. I blended in perfectly. Nothing but the sharpest-eyed creature would notice me.

  Then came the worst part: waiting.

  The sun crept closer to the horizon, dousing the world in dusky purples and deep pinks. My scales automatically changed color to suit the sky. I never worried about being exposed. My prey would never see me.

  As time trudged on, my impatience built. My mind kept returning to my incompetent underlings. Annoyance prickled me like thorns. If Arr’tow and Haz’rull didn’t bring back any food tonight, they were worthless. In fact, the whole Maeleon village was useless. Lazy bunch of fruit-eating, conflict-resolving, judgmental weaklings.

  I was strong. I didn’t need anybody. I vowed to survive in the wilds on my own, without any help from those soft-hearted idiots.

  Motion in the distance disrupted my thoughts. Beyond the grassy crest, a lone creature walked cluelessly towards my trap. It was no giant beast, but it wasn’t a small grass-nibbler, either. Its flesh would become a decent meal.

  My mind went still as my body hummed with anticipation. My empty stomach would soon be filled. Of course, Kookee would have its share, too.

  As the creature approached, my excitement paused. What was it? I’d never seen anything like it before. It stood on two legs like a Maeleon, but it lacked horns, feelers, scales, and tentacles. Its face was smooth and pale brown without a scale in sight, and it was blunt, as if a boulder had flattened its snout.

  I didn’t know why, but there was something vaguely familiar about its shape and gait...

  No matter. Whatever it was, it was certainly edible.

  I crouched lower, flattening myself to the ground as my scales camouflaged my presence. The creature didn’t notice me. It looked around, scrunching up its already flat face. It seemed lost and distressed. Maybe it got separated from its herd and was too weak to catch up.

  Good. Soon it would fall right into my trap.

  The creature saw the alcove. Its face lit up and it ran faster, eager to take refuge in the natural shelter. Little did it know it wouldn’t survive the night.

  I licked my lips. How would I prepare my meal? Should I tear it limb from limb, savoring every piece—or swallow it whole and feel it writhe and struggle on the way down?

  This was my favorite part of the hunt. As I secretly watched my prey walk right into my trap, I felt powerful and in control. At this point, there was no escape. Even if the creature noticed the trap and bolted, I’d be right on its trail. My powerful muscles enabled me to chase down any prey dumb enough to run for it. But the weird naked flesh-creature didn’t strike me as a runner. It simply looked relieved to find a place to rest.

  As it walked closer to the snare, my blood pumped faster. Soon I’d sink my fangs into that supple-looking flesh, and not a single scrap of meat would remain.

  It would never see the light of day again.

  3 / Paz

  After hours of walking across the Eukaria wilds, I had two conclusions.

  One: finding my alien mate was harder than I expected.

  Two: my feet fucking hurt.

  Exhaustion swept over me. Unlike the well-trodden paths in the village, the wilderness was—well, it was wild. The grass was long and sharp, threatening to cut my skin if I hadn’t worn a full-length onesie courtesy of Linn’ar. The ground was uneven, making it a difficult hike, and strange plants and critters were everywhere.

  None of them actively bothered me, though. Sure, monstrous bugs buzzed over my head once in a while, and I’ll admit I jumped at a few person-shaped trees, but it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. There was no real danger out in the wilds. I guess Tau’run assumed humans were fragile and needed protecting.

  As I searched for a place to crash for the night, I felt hungry and thirsty. Part of me regretted not joining the feast before I dipped out on my alien-husband adventure, but there was no turning back now. Those questing Maeleons couldn’t be that far from the village. The way Zat’tor talked about them, it seemed like they’d be back any day now. Surely I’d run into one sooner or later.

  I perked up at the sight of a familiar tree. Pink fruits dangled from its branches, juicy and ready to be picked. A couple of those would sustain my needs for food and water until I found my filum and brought him home.

  Luck shined on me today. A ripe fruit dropped from the tree and rolled down in front of a little alcove, as if beckoning me. Walking faster, I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I was eager for a snack and a break from trekking.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” I said as I reached for the fruit.

  The next step I took rocked my world.

  My body swung backward, then reversed, dangling me upside-down like a limp doll. The air evacuated my lungs.

  Stunned into breathlessness, I gasped for air. I craned my neck, trying to see what caught me. A tight loop strangled my ankle. It was connected to a taut rope tied to a stake in the ground.

  Seriously? I got caught in a fucking hunting snare?

  Then another thought hit me—the Maeleons in the village didn’t hunt or trap, because they didn’t eat meat.

  So, whose trap was I in?

  My stomach lurched with actual fear. Were there other sapient creatures on Eukaria? Had I just sealed my own idiotic fate by getting trapped by a meat-eater?

  I suddenly wished I’d taken Tau’run’s warning seriously.

  After mere seconds of dangling, the blood rushed uncomfortably to my head. This wasn’t good. The longer I stayed in this compromising position, the more trouble I’d be in—especially if nobody was coming to save me.

  A cold shiver ran up my spine. Then I promptly ejected that thought from my mind. There had to be someone nearby. I needed to call out and get their attention.

  “Hello?” I yelled. “Is anybody there? What’s going on?”

  I nearly had a heart attack when a huge shape rose from the grassy ledge overhead. Camouflage I didn’t even know was possible melted away, revealing a hulking, familiar shape.

  A Maeleon.

  Relief hit me like a truck. I knew there’d be a local around to help. A weak laugh bubbled out of me.

  “Wow, you have no idea how happy I am to see you,” I called as the Maeleon stalked closer.

  I stopped spinning long enough to get a good look at my savior. Even upside-down, I could tell the Maeleon was freaking massive, easily bigger than Zat’tor. With the ripped muscles and imposing figure, I couldn’t help thinking of him as masculine. His scales were the deep red shade of an autumn leaf, and his horns jutted out like a bull’s. He looked cool as hell.

  The Maeleon paused briefly at the sound of my voice, then let out a low chuckle. His deep voice was tinged with a throaty growl. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah. I got stuck in this trap, and I’m already starting to get dizzy,” I complained.

  The Maeleon watched me dangle helplessly from the rope. Was he frowning or grinning? Being upside-down made it difficult to tell.

  Maybe he didn’t know what to do, since Maeleons didn’t use traps. It probably made no sense to him.

  “If you cut the rope with your claws, I’ll be free,” I said.

  The Maeleon’s mouth widened in a fanged display. He was definitely grinning.

  “Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

  I blinked, then realized it was just another cultural misunderstanding. I didn’t recognize him from the village, so I figured he’d never met a human.

  “Humans can’t dangle upside-down like Maeleons do,” I explained. “It’s, uh, pretty uncomfortable for us.”

  His eyes flashed. They were red, like the rest of him.

  “Humans?” he said slowly.

  I relaxed. Misunderstanding confirmed. “Yeah, I’m a human.”

  Another low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “I’ve never eaten a human before.”

  Uh.

  What?

  My jaw fell open as a wave of confusion hit me. What was he talking about? Maeleons didn’t eat meat.

  Did they?

  He had to be joking. Maeleons were the chillest bunch of folks I’d ever met. I couldn’t imagine a Maeleon eating someone. Maybe this guy had a dark sense of humor. He was still grinning, after all.

  “Very funny,” I said with a forced laugh. “But seriously, if you could just—”

  He shoved a clawed finger against my lips, silencing me instantly. “You don’t tell me what to do, human. You will obey me.”

  My nerves frayed. Was I hallucinating from all the blood rushing to my brain?

  I shut my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart. I couldn’t panic. Years of training prepared me for a desperate occasion like this. I had to be diplomatic. Mutual respect was the best route to bridge the gap between us.

  The red Maeleon removed his finger from my mouth as he deconstructed the snare. I took the opportunity to speak as calmly as possible.

  “I believe this is a misunderstanding,” I said. “Why don’t we start with introductions? I’m Paz. What’s your name?”

  He snorted, then ripped the thick wooden stake from the ground as easily as a toothpick. “My name?” He barked out a rowdy laugh. “Never before has my prey asked my name. You have guts, Paz.”

  I shuddered at the way he growled my name. It managed to be both hot and terrifying at the same time. Mostly because he referred to me as his “prey.”

  I breathed deeply to ease my frayed nerves. Freaking out wouldn’t solve anything. Staying present in the moment was the only way forward. The Maeleon was still talking to me. That was a good sign.

  “You respect grit and guts, don’t you?” I asked.

  The Maeleon paused, eyeing my face, then snorted a hot breath from his nostrils. “As much as I can respect my next meal.”

  He was not going to eat me. There was no fucking way. But maybe if I played along, I’d get results.

  Swallowing the nervous lump in my throat, I asked, “Since I’m your prey, can I at least know the name of my predator?”

  The Maeleon grunted as he undid the last of the snare. My ankle was still caught, but he firmly grabbed my midsection with his tentacles and flipped me right-side up. I felt dazed as the blood rushed back into my body where it was supposed to be.

  And as I saw the Maeleon’s face properly for the first time, my blood also rushed into places where it definitely should not have been.

  Just like the other Maeleons, his snout was long and reptilian with rows of pointy teeth. But despite the imminent danger, I couldn’t stop myself from noticing how handsome he was. His jawline was rugged, his cheekbones high and sharp. His long, elfin ears were nicked in several places, adding to his scrappy vibe. His bull horns loomed above my head like thick twin skewers, and he glared at me with piercing scarlet eyes.

  I had to admit, my captor was sexy.

  “You want my name, prey?” he demanded.

  I flashed an inviting smile. “Yes, please.”

  “Hmph. My name is Kur’tok.”

  I was pleased that I’d made progress. But seriously, Kur’tok? Even the guy’s name sounded menacing. It didn’t inspire the cool, calm feeling of Zat’tor, or the whimsical gentleness of Linn’ar. It was hard, rough, and intimidating.

  And I was stuck in his tentacled clutches.

  “What are you doing with your face?” Kur’tok snapped.

  “Pardon me?”

  He jabbed a claw towards my mouth. “This... curved thing.”

  I realized he meant my smile. It made sense he didn’t understand since he’d apparently never met a human before. Maeleon smiles looked different than ours, given the stark variation in our mouths.

  “I was smiling,” I explained.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “Because we’re having a polite conversation.”

  Kur’tok screwed up his expression. “You are a strange little morsel,” he grumbled. “I will eat you quickly so you don’t play tricks on me.”

  Again with the eating, I thought. He can’t be serious... can he?

  “It’s no trick,” I said. “We’re just chatting.”

  “Silence,” Kur’tok roared. I braced myself against the wave of his hot breath. “Shut your mouth now.”

  His tone startled me. I’d never heard a Maeleon speak so rudely. What the hell was wrong with this guy?

  “You know, there’s nicer ways of asking me to be quiet,” I pointed out.

  Kur’tok snarled. His tentacles tightened around my waist, making me wheeze. The pressure wasn’t painful, but just enough to be uncomfortable.

  “Hey, can you ease up?” I asked.

  “Why?” Kur’tok barked.

  Okay, niceties didn’t work on him. I had to think like he did.

  “You don’t want to turn your prey into mush before you... eat it,” I said.

  Kur’tok pouted angrily, then relaxed his tentacles. I breathed out in relief. At least he was willing to listen. Sort of. That meant I still had a chance to get out of this mess. Geez, was this how Levi felt when his stupidity crashed our ship?

  Grasping me with his tentacles, Kur’tok lifted me in the air, then dropped to all fours and ran. I dangled in his grip, helpless. My arms and legs were trapped. I couldn’t do anything to escape. My voice and diplomacy skills were my only weapons. My only chance at freedom.

  Reality drenched me like a bucket of cold water. I was the captive of a carnivorous Maeleon—and I had to win him over before he ate me alive.

  4 / Kur’tok

  My prey was fleshy, delicate, and fragile. Even the slightest tightening of my tentacles bothered it. It baffled me how long the creature—the human—had stayed alive in spite of its weakness.

  But it would be over soon enough. It wouldn’t have to worry its tiny mind.

  I arrived back at my domain. The familiar scent of water and flowers greeted me. I was glad to see Kookee dozing comfortably, and also irritated that my useless underlings were still gone.

  I didn’t need their help. I’d hunted my own prey.

  My fatigue was stronger than my hunger. I sat on my throne, stretched out my legs, and sighed in contentment while my prize dangled in my tentacles.

  “Hey, Kur’tok,” the human said. “What is that?”

  Didn’t I tell the flesh-bag to shut up? But when I saw it nodding at Kookee, my anger fizzled out.

  I grunted. “That is Kookee, my pandar. It is my pet.”

  The human—Paz—blinked curiously. “Huh. I didn’t know Maeleons kept pets.”

  Baring my fangs, I snarled, “You think you know everything about Maeleons?”

  “No.” Paz shook its head. “I barely know anything. That’s why I asked.” Glancing at Kookee, Paz did that curved-mouth thing again. A smile. “Kookee is pretty cute. I’ve never seen a pandar before.”

  “Of course Kookee is cute,” I grumbled, reaching over to pat its shaggy side.

  Paz raised one of the furry lines above its eyes and smiled again. I watched Paz closely, strangely intrigued by the human’s weirdness. It didn’t writhe and scream like most prey. It didn’t try to escape. Didn’t it realize I was about to eat it? Maybe it was too stupid to understand the danger it was in.

  But that wouldn’t do. I preferred playing with my food. I wanted to rile it up, get its blood pumping before I sank my fangs into that tender flesh...

  I lowered Paz to the rocky ledge beneath my throne and withdrew my tentacles. It blinked, looking surprised. I watched my prey closely with narrowed eyes.

  Now that it was free, would the human run? I licked my lips. It would be fun to hunt it down again...

  Paz didn’t move. It met my gaze like an equal, though I saw mixed emotions in those weird white-and-brown eyes.