still wearing the tunic and the pants she’d altered at Jaxor’s base. She must reek. Her hair hung in greasy tendrils. Her skin felt tight, stretched.
Tavar’s gaze was like a sharp blade. Erin suppressed the urge to shiver again when he looked at her.
“He did not come for you after all,” was all he said. Humid air whistled into her nostrils at her sharp intake, the words surprisingly cutting. Pain curled in her stomach, her heart thudded pathetically.
“No,” Erin whispered. “He didn’t.”
“It is time,” Tavar said, grabbing her by the arm, the sensation of his strength jarring.
Erin had no choice as he led her out of the dungeon and up the stairs—though she was so out of breath at the top that Tavar was forced to pause. Another dark hallway stretched in front of them. And then another.
She thought the darkness would continue endlessly, but eventually she stumbled out—into fresh air?
She almost cried with delight as a cool breeze brushed across her face, winding through her hair, caressing it like fingers. Air so crisp that it stung her lungs.
And she could see. Moonlight blanketed the dark forest they were in, highlighting dark, towering trees. Erin saw at least forty or fifty males grouped in a clearing.
Erin remembered what Kossira had said, that Tavar had plans to attack the Jetutians that night. Were these his warriors? Most had weapons—long, curving blades with serrated edges, though most looked dull or the metal was chipped. And they weren’t like any Luxirian warriors she’d seen. There was a wild desperation in their eyes.
Tavar didn’t say anything to them as he walked her past, but she felt the way their eyes stayed on her. She wondered if it was the first time they’d ever seen a human.
Erin didn’t know how long they walked, but eventually, the trees began to thin. And wedged beside a tall, towering boulder, a few trees toppled and flattened beneath it, was a spaceship.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but in her mind, she’d pictured it much, much smaller. For the first time, a piercing of dread stung her belly. How would she ever try and find her way off it? It was massive. In some ways, it seemed larger to her than the Golden City, as big as a mountain, and she craned her neck up to try to see the very top. Standing before it, it took up the entirety of her vision.
Focus, she urged herself. Looking to the night sky, she located the brightest star Kossira had told her about. It hung low on the horizon, to the left of the spaceship.
As they drew closer, she saw that a Luxirian female—not Kossira—was waiting beside another male she didn’t recognize. Erin looked at her, but all she saw in her eyes was a cold determination. Erin wondered what she was doing there, but as she fell into step beside Tavar, it became apparent. She was the next female whose fertility would be restored. Erin wondered if this female knew Tavar’s plan, however. Erin wondered if she knew what the Jetutians did to the females in their care, which Kossira had hinted at.
At the base of the spaceship, Tavar called out suddenly, making Erin flinch. His words echoed around the clearing and Erin breathed in the sharp, cold air once again, closing her eyes.
And in her mind’s eye, she saw Jaxor. Saw those blue eyes she had memorized and felt the way his voice floated over her. How was it possible to ache for someone who had lied to her? But she did.
Longing and grief shivered down her spine, but she pushed the thought of him away, opening her eyes just as a ramp began to snake out from the metal of the ship, eerie and fluid. She’d never seen metal move that way before, as if it were liquid. When Tavar pulled her onto it, she expected her foot to slide right through, but it was solid as he dragged her up, the Luxirian female still at his side and the male guard at their backs.
The forest was quiet, the night clear, and then what few sounds there were fell away as they walked through a shimmering veil at the top of the ramp. They were in the belly of the spaceship and when Erin craned her neck behind her, she saw the air move, the darkened forest right there, but she couldn’t hear it. She swore she saw familiar blue eyes in the darkness, but she knew it