Page 6 of Pursued By the Dragon Alien

Lilas snorted. “I’m barefoot, in this ridiculous excuse for clothing, and I highly doubt you leave your ship unattended for anyone to stroll in and take off, not that I’d have a clue how to do that. If I thought I had a chance, though? Maybe.”

Razion studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Fair enough.” He gestured around him with no small amount of pride. “Welcome aboard the Darkslip. She’s capable of full cloaking and recovers from a full fold in only thirty-sixpeks.”

Lilas sighed and stepped past him. “Luckiest day of my life.”

The Darkslip was a stark contrast to Gribna’s gaudy monstrosity. The corridors were narrower, built for efficiency rather than excess, and the metal walls gleamed in a matte black finish. Cool blue lights lined the edges of the floor, casting just enough glow to navigate without wasting energy, and the air was clean and oxygenated. The ship wasn’t cramped, but ithad a utilitarian feel—sleek, functional, designed for speed and maneuverability rather than comfort.

Lilas scanned the space, her arms still crossed over her chest. “Well,” she said, glancing over at Razion. “At least you don’t have decorative pillows.”

He smirked, stepping ahead of her. “Not a fan of excessive embellishments?”

“No use for them, personally,” she said, trailing behind him. “Unless you can eat them.”

Razion chuckled as he led her deeper into the ship, his long strides forcing her to pick up her pace. “Then I suppose you’ll manage here, for a while, anyway. Until we get you someplace safe.”

Ah, so he was planning on dropping her off somewhere. That made sense. Lilas hesitated in the doorway of the small but functional room Razion had led her to. It was nothing like the absurd luxury of Gribna’s ship—no gold-trimmed furniture, no ridiculous silk cushions. Just a bed, a narrow storage unit, and a door that Razion had pointed to with a simple, “Washroom’s through there.”

She glanced at him, arms still crossed. “And if I don’t feel like bathing?”

Razion’s lips twitched like he was barely restraining a smirk. “Then you’ll stay filthy. Your choice.”

Her jaw tightened. That was the right answer, and she hated that it was the right answer. He wasn’t ordering her. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her into compliance. He was just…giving her space. That made her more suspicious of him, not less.

Before she could come up with something sharp to say, he continued, “When you’re done, there’ll be clothes and food waiting.”

That got her attention. She schooled her expression so she didn’t look too eager, but the mention of food made her stomachtighten painfully. She hadn’t eaten a real meal since—she didn’t know when.

Razion must have noticed something shift in her because his gaze softened just a fraction. “Take your time,” he said. Then, without another word, he stepped back and the door slid shut between them.

Lilas released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Alone, finally.

She turned toward the washroom, her fingers twitching to scrub the lingering feel of Gribna’s touch off her skin.

She had no idea what came next. But for now? Now, she was going to get clean. The washroom was small but efficient, like everything else on Razion’s ship. A sleek panel on the wall flickered to life when she stepped inside, and a soft, automated voice murmured something about temperature settings. Lilas ignored it, focusing on the smooth, dark walls and the scent of clean water.

She pressed her palm to a round sensor, and a fine spray of warm water sprang from all directions, soaking her instantly. A quiet gasp escaped her lips before she pulled herself together. It had been a long time since she’d had anything but cold, rationed water to scrub the dirt from her skin. Letting the warmth sink in, she rubbed at her arms, her fingers tracing over faint indentations where the cuffs had been. The red marks were still there, stark against her skin, but the pain was gone.

A small compartment slid open, revealing a clear gel that smelled nice. Soap. Sweetfek, there wassoap. She took some without hesitation, scrubbing hard, not stopping even when her skin felt raw. She wanted to wash away even the memory of Gribna’s ship.

By the time she finally stepped out, steam was curling around her. She felt lighter. Not entirely clean—not in the way that mattered—but better. More like herself.

A neatly folded set of clothes waited on the bed, along with a tray of food. Lilas eyed both for a moment, her stomach twisting with hunger. She grabbed the clothes first—a simple, dark tunic and soft pants—and tugged them on without hesitation. They were a little loose but warm and sturdy. Practical.

Then, finally, she reached for the food.

The first bite of something that wasn’t stale rations or runny broth almost made her groan. It was simple, some kind of protein and grains, but it was real, and it was hers.

She ate quickly, barely aware of anything but the ache in her stomach easing with every bite. It wasn’t until she was licking the last crumbs from her fingers that she finally let herself think.

She was on a pirate’s ship. Free, but not. Safe, but only for now.

And Razion? She didn’t know what to think of him.

He hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t threatened her. Hadn’t even demanded gratitude for the rescue she hadn’t asked for.Yet.

That was the part that unsettled her the most. Every rescue had a price. Every so-called savior had an angle. She just hadn’t figured out his yet.

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