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She hesitated, frowning slightly. “I …I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was on Earth. One moment, I was at a resort, and then—” she gestured vaguely at the jungle. “This.”

Earth.

Terra Prime.

A world on the opposite side of the galaxy.

I hissed, the sound low and contemplative.

Damned smugglers.

The Solarian Corridor—or, as the Legion called it, the Savage Lands Sector—was a haven for criminals, a black market hub where laws meant nothing.

The slums of space.

The perfect place for disappearances.

Had she been taken?

Sold?

No. She was too confused. If she had been captured and trafficked, she would have expected danger, not wandered lost and barefoot through an alien jungle.

Still, I did not like it.

“You’re not from here,” she said suddenly, her gaze sharp as she studied me. “You crashed. I saw your ship.”

The memory of my Prowler spiraling through the atmosphere flashed through my mind—systems failing, engines screaming, the planet’s surface rushing up to meet me. I’d barely managed to maintain enough control to avoid being spread across half the continent.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “A Reaper class Prowler. I was on a reconnaissance mission when I picked up an anomalous signal.”

Her brows furrowed. “A signal? From what?”

“I am not sure. This planet was not on any of my star charts,” I gestured to the jungle around us. “There were bogies on my tail, strafed my ship, and despite the anti-grav lock, my Prowler still went down.” As if there were a trap laid for it specifically, but I kept my speculations to myself. No need to worry my mate unnecessarily.

Mate.

Finding one’s fate-mate was the closest thing to religion that Rodinia had. A fated mate was so uncommon that many of my kind had given up hope. Many Rodinians have chosen heart mates, if they choose to be mated at all.

Yet here she was.

“Despite the mystery, I cannot help but be grateful. I would never expect to have found my fate-mate in such a place.”

“That’s …that can’t be right,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m human. You’re …not.”

I chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “The universe cares little for such distinctions when it decides to knit souls together, kitten.”

“My name is Everly,” she said with unexpected steel in her voice. “Not kitten.”

“Everly,” I repeated, savoring the taste of her name. “Everly Flores.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you?—”

“I know many things about you, now” I said, tapping my temple. “The unity dream unlocks our soul’s bond.”

The look of confusion over her face made her even more adorable. All I wanted to do was hold her close and nuzzle her neck until I was drunk with her scent.

First things first.

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