Page 62 of Owned By the Hvrok

He wasn’t just muscular. He wascolossal. His waist was lean, tapering into powerful legs encased in the remnants of his suit.His abs were impossibly chiseled. She counted—ten. He had aten-pack, as if that was even a thing.

And his body was laced with scars.

Long, narrow slashes. Jagged edges. Circular burns. Old and silvery, pale against dark skin. They were everywhere—his chest, his abdomen, his arms. Signs of violence. Of survival.

He wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense.

But he was…formidable.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. Minutes, maybe. Or longer.

He’d disappeared into one of the rear compartments without a word, still shirtless, his massive form swallowed by the ship’s dim corridors. The fur coat remained wrapped around her shoulders, enveloping her in softness and lingering heat. It smelled faintly of him now.

She hated how comforting that was.

And then… he returned.

He carried something in one hand. A canister. Metal. Sleek. Alien.

Food?

He set it down on the console beside her and activated a small panel on the side. It hissed faintly. A lid slid open.

Heat curled into the air.

With it came asmell.

Her stomach turned instantly.

She knew that smell.

That was the slop they’d fed her while she’d been kept in that horrible facility. Bland and sour and gelatinous, like someone had boiled old socks and sadness together and then sealed it in a vacuum for freshness.

He must’ve brought some of it with him. Was that what he thought humans ate?

Her face twisted involuntarily. The memory hit too hard. Her body reacted before her brain could catch up.

She shook her head.

Hard.

“No,” she said firmly, pushing the container away with the back of her hand. “I’m not eating that.”

Her voice cracked. Her throat was dry.

But the words were crystal clear. Final.

The reaction was immediate.

He went still.

From one breath to the next, the air in the cockpit thickened. Tensed. His body didn’t move, but somethinginhim did—some unseen current, some shift in energy. He loomed. The muscles across his bare chest flexed subtly, as if preparing for something.

She froze.

Her fingers curled tighter into the fur coat.

For a second, she thought:Shit. I pushed him too far.

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