I pry open my eyes. The red male holds me close as the green one, Azsote, the red one calls him, is several yards away. His eyes meet mine. I can’t help but shy away from the fury—the anguish—in them.
I don’t think I can escape him again. I see it. He won’t make the mistake of letting me fall a second time.
“Do not be afraid of me,” Azsote says, softening his demeanor. Maybe he sees my terror.
The red male clutches me closer. “Do not speak to her! Leave now or die.”
Azsote juts his chin. “Why not let her decide?”
My eyes widen. Choice? Will they give me a choice? There’s hope in that. That means they can be reasoned with.
“No.”
“Let me choose!” I gasp, finally unlocking my joints to jerk in his arms. “Please?”
He tenses and looks down at me. There’s doubt—and something else—is in his gaze.
They’re smart, these aliens. Smarter than they have any right to be. They look like us, kind of. They speak the common tongue, even though they have a thick accent. What else can they do? What do they know?
A plan forms in my mind. I’ll go with one, learn what I can, find the alien technology, and steal it. I’ll bring it back to the facility and save Daisy in the process. And when I’m back with my people, I’ll contact The Dreadnaut and tell them about Peter’s and Collins’ treachery.
Some of my fear vanishes as the plan becomes clear. I just need to keep my legs closed in the process. I just need to survive until I have the chance to see it through.
“Let me choose,” I whisper again as the black eyes of the red male bore into me. He has scales on his face like the other, but he also has ridges on the sides of his jaw. Those ridges run down his shoulders too.
“You are mine,” he warns. “You’ve been mine since you walked off your ship.”
He remembers.
“Let her choose, Vruksha, and no blood will need to be spread. If she chooses you, I will leave you be, and if she chooses me…you slither away and take your chance with winning the other human female.”
His name is Vruksha.
“Her name is Daisy,” I say, still thinking of my plan.
“Daisy,” Azsote corrects. “What a strange name.”
He doesn’t ask me for mine.
A branch snaps in the distance, followed by several others. A rustle of leaves, a scattering of stones. The males straighten. Tension fills the space.
Others are coming.
Azsote’s voice lowers, hurried. “More are coming, Vruksha. We can fight, allow them to gain on us, and battle the others. Or we can let her choose and be gone before they arrive.”
The red male—Vruksha, I now know for sure—continues to watch me. Hard. I wiggle in his hold because it’s all I can do. I no longer have a knife to plunge into his heart. His dark eyes slide from my face and over my body, lingering on my ripped shirt. I reach over and pull it taut to hide my skin.
I don’t like his eyes on me. I don’t want to know what’s happening behind them.
“Fine,” he says. “Choose me, like you know you should.”
“Let me down first,” I urge.
“No.”
“Let her down,” Azsote rumbles.
“Never,” Vruksha growls.
The rustling of leaves grows nearer.
“We don’t have much time!”
More males don’t sound ideal to me. The two I’m already facing are enough to contend with. I squirm even more, hoping for an escape, but Vruksha’s grip is incredibly strong.
“She’s going to choose me, so why would I release her?” he snarls.
Fuck him. “I choose Azsote,” I announce, finding my voice surprisingly level for my circumstance.
Vruksha’s fingers wrench on my skin. His lips pull back to reveal two curved fangs.
“Give her to me,” Azsote says, smiling, inching closer to us.
Vruksha doesn’t look away from me. Is that betrayal etched in his features? My gut churns. I strain away from him.
Azsote is the better choice. He’s more willing to compromise. He’ll be easier to manipulate, I think this despite the sinking feeling in my belly. I’m good at judging people… people, not half-human, half-snake aliens.
“Azsote, is it?” Vruksha says, his voice so low it gives me pause. “He is who you want?”
I flinch.
“I want to go home,” I manage. “I don’t want any of you.”
“She’s made her choice! Hand her over and leave,” Azsote snaps.
Vruksha tears his eyes from mine. His muscles bulge.
Azsote, noticing, bares his fangs in response. Their stances shift, tails sweeping forward with sharp tips. Vruksha hauls his spear in front of me, shielding me in, loosening his grip on me as he does so.
“Then we fight,” Azsote mutters, slinking back.
Vruksha raises his weapon and swings it in an arc. The tip glows yellow and sizzles. It slices through the branches above, sending them crashing to the ground.
Azsote shouts, clearly offended by Vruksha’s change to the battlefield.
Vruksha takes off, carrying me into the forest. He holds his spear out with his free hand to slice through branches and trees, clearing our route. I struggle to get free of his hold, and glimpsing the forest behind us, he leaves a wake of falling branches and trees.
I stare at the carnage.
Azsote’s rage can be heard throughout it all, over the snaps and cracks and crashes.
Having a choice in the matter? Too good to be true… I press my hands into my eyes, stopping my tears from flowing, grasping for the modicum of calm I had reclaimed.
A short time later, Vruksha pulls his spear in, and the light from it diminishes. It’s just a primitive wooden stick again, but we’re still slipping through the forest at breakneck speeds, and I can’t get a great look at the weapon.
All I know is that I want it.
Destruction follows us for a time, and so do Azsote’s yells.
When we outrun his shouts, Vruksha only speeds up more. The blur of trees makes me light-headed, and a little looney.
