Page 94 of Owned By the Hvrok

She felttoosafe.

She should be alert, thinking critically, calculating the risk, worrying about terrible things she had no control over.

But she wasn’t.

Because this male made her feel like nothing could touch her.

She tried to remind herself that he wasn’t her salvation. That lust and pleasure weren’t the same as trust.

That he could still do bad things to her.

After all, heownedher.

Butgod—she hated to admit—she liked it. Liked the fucked-up fantasy of it all.

There was a part of her that still ached for Earth, for her people, her familiar world, herthings.

Her old identity.

But then there was this other side, wilder and raw, that she hadn’t known was buried deep inside her. A part that had lain dormant for years as she folded herself into something practical and manageable.

Kyhin had shattered that.

And now he filled the void she hadn’t realized was there.

They reached the cockpit. The display flickered to life, casting alien light across the dark panels.

She watched as a ship descended through the sky: an angular shape, all sharp edges and thick plating. Not sleek like Kyhin’s vessel. No, this one was built tough and sturdy.

She knew instinctively: they’d be leaving his wrecked ship behind.

Then…

She saw it.

In the snow, glowing under the blood-tinged rays of the red sun.

“Oh, my god,” she gasped. It was an entire army. Silver-armored figures, marching in formation.

A hundred, at least.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

Kyhin didn’t flinch. He stepped forward, silent and deliberate, and donned his helm once more, the black faceplate sealing away the strange beauty of his alien features. He said something to her, in strange, lyrical words she couldn’t understand… but she understood the intent, for his tone was steel.

Final.

Then, he moved around the room, retrieving weapons from the walls: guns, blades, and other things she couldn’t name, massive tools of war designed for a being like him.

And then, unexpectedly…

He returned to her.

He touched her facesogently with his armor-gloved hand—a contradiction. He whispered something low in his language: something she couldn’t decipher but somehow understood.

He would protect her.

She nodded, even though her throat was tight.

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