life had been hard for him.
He found work wherever he could, using whatever resources were available. There were half-breed communities that helped, but when every half-breed had the same problem, some just got shuffled to the end of the list. Dad spent his free time giving help in return.
He cared. So much. He wanted a better life for me. For us. For all half-breeds.
Women like her didn’t have it nearly as hard as a man with the same predicament. They had it hard, but in an entirely different way.
Purebred Trentians overlooked the human part in the women of her community. They didn’t care. They needed women to replace the countless they lost in the war, and so half-breed Trentian females were a desired commodity. Knights from Xanteaus, the Trentian homeworld, would come to the slums once a year to gather willing women of age, and offer them a chance at matehood, and a way off Elyria—a better life.
Many took the opportunity, while some, like herself, hid.
Dad made her fully aware of her predicament. Alexa’s heart fell. He protected her with every ounce of power he held, which wasn’t much.
Then a Cyborg killed him. Her eyes narrowed. The same Cyborg I tempted to kiss me. Alexa snatched her hand back, rubbing the feel of the leather from her fingers.
And if anyone found out she was a half-breed…she was doomed.
Or as good as dead. She’d been on Earth, in the presence of her species’ greatest enemy. An enemy who would either kill her on the spot because of it, or turn her over to the authorities.
She’d paid a lot of money for her fake medical records and for the glamour surgery to change her eye color. She tried to blend in.
Her eyes snapped to the screens in front of the captain’s chair. Screens with dozens of different windows to search through.
“You’ve been staring at that seat. Is there something wrong with it?”
Alexa stilled, the blood draining from her face. She slowly turned around.
Hysterian stood in the bridge’s doorway. He was leaning against the side. He had the look and demeanor of a man in charge, but none of the virtue. He was strikingly handsome, exotically so, with his lean frame, tight armored suit, and blindingly white hair.
But he was also a complete mess.
Dirt covered him from head-to-boot, gross dried green splatter stained his uniform and gloves, and even his hair fell in an unkempt, windswept mess. If she hadn’t known where he’d been, she would have assumed that he’d just returned from war. There was a wild spark in his eyes.
They twitched, bulged slightly but when she blinked, they were back to normal. Again.
If she cared, she would ask how he got that way. If she cared, she would show concern for him. Her lips flattened.
Arched brows and amused eyes met hers, and she braced. The wildness in them remained despite his obvious amusement.
Her heart hammered.
She’d lost her chance—again—to find something that would help her, but she found something much greater, her need for vengeance renewed.
“Nothing is wrong with it, Captain,” she said. “I was just imagining what it would be like to sit in such a seat.”
Hysterian pushed off the wall, and she swallowed. How long had he been there? Had he been watching her? He came to stand in front of her, and Alexa straightened even more—to the point her spine threatened to lock her in place forever.
“It’s just a seat. Here, sit.” He moved past her, unlocked the chair, and swiveled it in her direction.
“I can’t break protocol, sir.”
“Haven’t we already? It’s just a seat, Dear. It won’t eat you. I promise.”
Her eyes dropped to the leather chair and the enormous amount of power it held. She hesitated.
“Go on.”
Alexa took a step back. “I’m sorry, Captain, but this is part of the reason why I’m here. I wanted to apologize for my actions in the menagerie yesterday—”
“No need,” he snapped. “I should be the one apologizing. I led you to believe I want something more with you, and that was wrong of me. You are my subordinate, and I’m your captain. I have no intention of taking advantage of the position I’m in beyond what incurs for a job…that is.”
His words burned. Why did his words burn?
“Good,” she mustered. “Thank you…for understanding.”
“You’re welcome.”
They stared at each other.
Alexa couldn’t break eye contact with him to save her life. He was a mess, and she had a feeling that if he hadn’t been a Cyborg, he may have died today.
Good.
A niggling,