Page 83 of Owned By the Hvrok

He wasbrutal.

Blood flew, gushing from wounds, crimson and shockingly human-like, staining the snow around them. The attackers staggered back, stunned by his relentless fury. He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate.

She shuddered, wondering just how dangerous he really was—what he was truly capable of. It made sense that he was alone; he didn't need an army.

The tide was turning.

Despite the death and terrible violence surrounding her, relief surged sharply through her. These attackers wouldn't take her.

He would keep her safe.

The intensity of the relief she felt—it bothered her. People—aliens, whatever they were—were literally dying before her, cut down by her captor as if they were made of styrofoam, blood spurting everywhere.

She should have been horrified. If she was back on Earth, she would have.

But out here, in the wilds, on a strange planet, the rules of survival were different.

This reallywassurvival of the fittest, the dominant one reigning supreme, and all of that. And the being that had claimed her ashistruly was the dominant one.

At last, the final attacker fell, collapsing face-first into the snow.

Down.

Dead.

Holy crap.

Sylvia’s heart thudded loudly in her ears. Her lips were parted, her breaths coming in short, sharp rasps.

The alien—heralien—turned to look at the cockpit window.

As if looking straight ather.

He was a dark silhouette amidst the snow and the flurry of the white-flecked wind. Shesworeshe saw a faint red glow where his eyes should be in his featureless helmet.

With a fluid movement, he sheathed his sword.

And… her heart beat faster.

Her body was heating up again.Why now?It wasn’t the time nor the place. And yet… her attraction to him was undeniable.

She wassoscrewed.

He started walking toward the ship, and Sylvia watched in fascination, mesmerized by the sheer power radiating from him.

Suddenly, the strange console before her flashed, alien characters spilling rapidly across the screen, and a panel onthe instrument dashboard started glowing urgently, pulsing with light.

It had never done this before.

Sylvia felt a stab of anxiety. Was this something important? Would he miss it? What if it was a communication—a chance to escape?

She hesitated, glancing out the cockpit window. He had disappeared from view. She had no idea what she was doing.

"Hey!" she shouted, hoping he'd appear, but there was no response. No sign of him.

Heart pounding, driven by a surge of urgency, she did the only thing she could: she reached out and pressed several of the flashing buttons.

Instantly, the screen flickered, resolving into an image. Sylvia froze as a face appeared: alien, stern, and utterly unfamiliar.

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