were leaving, so leave,” she said next, stomping off towards the junk heap she called a ship, molk still sitting on her shoulder, staring at him with its beady eyes.
The mogha also watched him from the corner of his eye, following his apparent alpha, then fully turned his attention elsewhere, trotting alongside her, tail held high.
The bird emitted a clucking noise and he blinked. She named a yard bird, Molly?
There wasn’t anywhere he needed to be in the immediate future. Perhaps he’d hang around on Paradise for a little while.
5
First, he was trying to kill her and now he wanted to help her? She ran her left hand through her hair, stopping to scratch at the back of her head, Molly still tucked under her right arm.
Build a fire? She’d never even seen a fire in real life, not one on the surface of a planet anyway.
Climbing the ramp, she set the chicken down on the deck and it disappeared into the cargo bay, Hedge scurrying down her arm, following its path.
She never thought she’d be thanking the stars she did not leave the fierce little creature in the lab. Watching as he wound his way towards the chickens, she paused. So far, he had left the chickens alone. Hopefully, it stayed that way.
C’hase trotted after him and she felt a little better. The mogha kept good watch over their feathered friends.
Peeking over the edge of the bulkhead, she expected to be watching the Korthan fly away, a sense of abandonment surprising her. At first, she thought the sentiment was coming from C’hase, but then she realized it was her own feeling.
Belly fluttering when she saw the ship was still there, she rested her head against the bulkhead. Thank the stars.
A cackling sound beneath the freighter made her blink. Climbing halfway down the ramp in a crouch, she peered under the ship, an orange glow on the other side lighting up the approaching evening sky.
Breath catching, the bright blaze was mesmerizing, dancing yellow flames dazzling her eyes. The field of flowers seemed ablaze as well, their orange coloration against the orange light of the fire making them pop. Shadows danced and shimmied among them, and they were alive with movement.
And, there, leaning on a tall pole, stood the Korthan. Black hair hanging free against his shoulders, he had removed his shirt, a black bandage now gracing his arm, shine of the blaze lighting up his gray skin, muscled physique tantalizing in its perfection. Her body tingled all over—
The Korthan’s head turned in her direction and she ducked. Rolling with the ramp against her back, she breathed heavily towards the sky.
Waiting two minutes, she peeped under the ship again. His arm was reaching behind his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades where she hit him.
Scooting back up the ramp into the safety of the freighter, Dani heard the screech of a hellbat far in the distance. But no attack came. Perhaps the Korthan was right about the fire.
Heading to the bridge, Dani checked the comm. Nothing. Did anyone even hear her distress call?
With no whisper of wind outside, Dani made her way to her cabin, settling into her bunk for the first peaceful sleep she’d had since rescuing the hellhound from the lab. Did she even want the Korthan to leave?
His lips fell against her neck, their hungry caress demanding as the weight of his rippling body fell over her.
Large hand warm against her breast, the warrior groped downwards along her body. She arched into him as his hard, grasping fingers probed between her legs.
“You’re different from Korthan women,” his husky breath swept across her earlobe. “Warmer— Wetter—”
Palm pressed firmly against her womanhood, he squeezed, his erection hard against her thigh. “I want to bury this in here.”
Tingling sensation exploded through her abdomen.
Help!
She drowned in blissful sensation, definitely didn’t want help—
Help, help!
The call was targeted, straight into her mind, the sound of a frightened little boy—
C’hase!
She shot straight up in the bunk, the Korthan disappearing along with her arousal. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, her mind was in a fog as she tried to get her thoughts together.
Suddenly, a tan squeaking Hedge ran up her leg, climbing her night clothes to perch on her shoulder, chattering away, whiskers twitching. What the hell?
Help!
The call remained. And even though he was calling through her mind, C’hase’s panicked voice sounded muffled. Pain hit her on the nose and she thought Hedge had somehow scratched her face. Then she realized it was from the mogha.
Jumping