Chapter 13
Yahn
I knew she was gone the second I pushed open the bathroom door.
Her scent lingered—that mix of expensive perfume and something uniquely, deliciously Leah—but the space echoed empty.
My stomach dropped like I’d hit zero-g without warning.
“Fuck,” I hissed, slamming my fist against the wall.
The bathroom’s sleek surfaces mocked me with their emptiness.
How long had she been listening before she fled?
What had she heard? Whatever it was, it was enough to send her running from alien bodyguards she didn’t even know existed.
Aano pulled on his jacket and turned around, frowning when he saw the expression on my face. “We’ll find Ruhn,” he said. “Relzo said Mags is in the area, and she’s already headed to the drop-off location.”
“That’s not it. She’s gone. Leah’s gone.”
He frowned, striding across the room to haul open the bathroom door, like he had to check himself. Those sharp eyes took in the empty bathroom in one sweep. “Did she hear our call with Relzo?”
“She must have.” My hands trembled as I yanked my jacket from the bed. “She wouldn’t leave without telling us, not even to go to the vending machines. She knows we’ve been lying.”
Aano’s face hardened. “We need to find her before someone else does.”
The unspoken threat hung between us. The Ducal Syndicate had my brother.
They’d take Leah too if they found her first. Something primal twisted in my gut at the thought—something that had nothing to do with our mission and everything to do with her bright laugh, those clever blue eyes, the way she’d curled against me last night like she trusted me completely.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then dropped his head against mine. The ache that lingered from how hard he’d fucked me reminded me that we were now something more than we had been. “They don’t know how important she is to us,” he whispered. “They don’t know who she is.”
It didn’t matter. We’d used her. The realization tasted like bile at the back of my throat as I grabbed my stunner and slid it into my jacket pocket.
We’d used her money, her ship, her precious trust—all to escape Thol with evidence that could bring down the Ducal Syndicate.
And now she was alone on a strange planet because we’d been careless.
“But how do we even find her?”
I met his eyes, and he winked. “I put a tracker on her communicator.”
We didn’t wait for the elevator. The stairwell swallowed us as we descended three floors at a time, our boots echoing against the metal steps.
Aano’s breathing remained steady beside me, but I could feel his tension in the way he moved—controlled violence barely contained in that massive frame.
He cared about her too. It wasn’t just me.
The hotel lobby bustled with aliens of a dozen species. A group of Araced tour guides herded their clients toward the main doors, their prehensile tails swishing with animated enthusiasm. None of them gave us a second glance as we burst through the crowd.
Outside, Numae’s famous neon glow painted the streets in electric blues and pulsing purples as the city woke, shopkeepers preparing for their days, cafes setting out tables. And somewhere in this throbbing mass of sensation, Leah was running scared.
“This way,” I growled, pushing past a trio of Chokreini diplomats whose iridescent skin reflected the neon in shimmering waves. The tracker signal pulsed stronger as we headed east, toward the shuttle parking zone.
Aano’s hand closed around my upper arm, pulling me back. “Slow down,” he murmured, voice pitched low enough that only I could hear. “We look suspicious running full-tilt through the entertainment district? We’ll draw attention.”
He was right, damn him. I forced myself to regulate my breathing, slowing to a brisk walk that still cut through the crowd but wouldn’t trigger security alerts. My skin felt too tight, like I might burst out of it at any second. Every second we wasted was another second Leah might be in danger.
“She doesn’t know what she’s involved in,” I said, the words barely audible over the street noise. “If the Syndicate has eyes here—“
“They do.” Aano’s certainty chilled me. “But they’re looking for us, not for a human woman.”
I shot him a look that could have melted steel. “That’s not fucking good enough.”
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing as we continued through the crowded streets. The tracker signal grew stronger as we approached the edge of the entertainment district, where the neon gradually gave way to the more utilitarian lighting of the transportation hub.
The shuttle parking area stretched before us, a vast expanse of landing pads and docking mechanisms. Leah’s lander—a compact but luxurious Stellaris Mini—sat on pad 42, its gleaming white hull emblazoned with subtle rose gold accents.
My heart hammered against my ribs as we approached. The hatch stood ajar, interior lights glowing softly. But there was no sign of Leah.
“Fuck,” I whispered, pulling my stunner and approaching cautiously. Aano flanked me on the left, moving with preternatural silence for someone his size. We’d fallen into security protocols without even discussing it—the mask of “construction workers” slipping away as easily as shedding a coat.
The shuttle’s interior was empty. I holstered my weapon and moved to the console as Aano peeked into her cabin. “Not here. And the ship’s still here. That’s a good sign, right?”
I accessed the tracker again, recalibrating to her current position. “She’s in the market district. Two kilometers north of here.”
He smirked at me. “If all she’s after is retail therapy, we might have some hope.”
We sealed the shuttle and set off at a pace just short of running.
The streets grew narrower as we entered the famous Numae Market District, where permanent structures gave way to a maze of colorful canopies and portable stalls.
The air thickened with competing scents—sizzling meats, sweet fruits, incense, perfumes—all mingling in a heady mixture that overwhelmed my Tholkon senses.
The crowd density doubled. Araced vendors called out their wares in musical tones, their tails gesturing expressively at their merchandise.
Customers of a dozen species haggled and browsed, their voices creating a constant hum of activity.
I shouldered my way through, drawing annoyed clicks and hisses from those I jostled.
“Seen a human woman?” I asked a food vendor, whose six limbs worked independently to prepare several dishes at once. “Small, pink and hair?”
The Araced’s golden eyes flickered with recognition, but she just shrugged and turned away. I cursed under my breath and pushed on.
Aano took a different approach, using his imposing size to clear a path.
Tholkons had a reputation for violence that wasn’t entirely undeserved, and most species gave him a wide berth as he moved through the throng.
I followed in his wake, scanning the crowd desperately for any flash of Leah’s distinctive coloring.
“There,” Aano said, nodding toward a fabric stall near the edge of the market square.
And there she was. My breath caught in my throat.
Leah stood before a display of silks and fine cottons, her delicate hands moving over the fabrics with obvious appreciation.
The vendor—an elderly Araced female with faded orange scales—showed her different patterns, clearly delighted by her customer’s enthusiasm.
In this sea of Araced, Leah’s human coloring should have looked out of place, but somehow she belonged perfectly, her natural charm transcending species barriers.
She’d changed clothes, I realized. Gone was the casual loungewear she’d been wearing in our hotel room.
Now she wore a flowing traditional Araced-style dress in deep blue that complemented her fair skin and made her look like she belonged on this planet of pleasure-seekers.
Her pink-streaked curls caught the market lights, creating a halo effect around her heart-shaped face.
Something twisted in my chest—an intense pull that drew me towards her.
My people didn’t experience lifemate bonds.
When Tholkons and Zangrels described the feeling, I’d dismissed their tales as romantic nonsense.
But watching Leah now, I was struck by the strangely intense conviction that she was meant to be ours.
She was sweet and charming, lovely and kind. I stepped forward.
“Wait,” Aano murmured, catching my arm before I could approach her. “She thinks we’re dangerous.”
I snorted. “We are dangerous, just not to her.” But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie.
We’d endangered her the moment we’d decided to use her as our escape route from the Chokreini Space Station.
We’d known the Ducal Syndicate would be hunting us and the evidence we were carrying.
We’d known what could happen to anyone connected to us.
And we’d pulled her into our mess anyway, all because she was rich, beautiful, and conveniently infatuated with a pair of exotic aliens.
I’d told myself it was just about the mission. That once we delivered the evidence to the IUC, we’d part ways with our wealthy human fling and return to our real lives. But somewhere between Thol and Arec, something had changed. I’d changed.
Leah glanced up from the fabrics and our eyes met across the crowded market square.
For one breathless moment, everything else faded away—the noise, the smells, the press of bodies around us.
There was only Leah, her blue eyes widening in recognition, then darting around, seeking escape routes.
Her body tensed like a cornered animal’s.
Fear. Of us. Of me. It made my chest feel tight and wrong.
“Leah,” I called, moving forward despite Aano’s restraining hand.
She backed away from the fabric stall, abandoning her purchases. The vendor called after her, but Leah kept moving, her eyes never leaving mine as she retreated.
I pushed through the last few meters of crowd separating us, heedless of the protests from those I shoved aside. Aano followed, a looming presence at my back.