Page 23 of Sold to the Nalgar
Faster than a human. Smoother than any machine. Silent as a shadow.
Down a corridor lit with blood-red light. Into the unknown.
She didn’t ask where.
Because she knew, deep down…
Shewasn’tthe one who got to ask questions anymore.
CHAPTER 12
He carried her through the corridors like she weighed nothing.
Her robe shifted with every step, the belt tugging loosely around her waist, her bare feet swinging just above the metal floor. She lay stiff in his arms, still trembling from the rush of everything—the restraints, the fire in the collar, the chaos. Her mind was fractured and floating, but her eyes... they watched.
They passed the green alien and the faceless ones. The same ones who had handled her like meat. Now they stood silent and still, heads bowed low.
They bow to him.
Even the squat, brutish one dipped his head without hesitation, without comment, as the warlord passed.
The message couldn’t be clearer.
He was not just feared.
He wasobeyed.
Cecilia clenched her teeth, trying not to let her expression shift, not to betray the fresh curl of fear in her stomach.
They moved deeper into the vessel, through a wide corridor that hummed with the sounds of hidden systems. The lightsdimmed as they went, the red becoming cooler, then white, and finally blue, casting strange shadows along the curved walls. At the end: a sealed hatch.
He didn’t slow. The door hissed open at his approach, responding to his presence without any visible command. Inside—an airlock, or something like it. The walls gleamed with dark metal. Smooth. Sleek. Quiet.
And on the other side—another ship.
Her breath caught as they crossed the threshold.
It wasdifferent.
Darker. Smaller. More refined. The previous vessel—massive and industrial—had felt cold, institutional. But this one… this one pulsed with control. Efficiency. Power. As if it had been designed not for a crew, but for a single will.
His.
This was his personal ship.
She couldfeelit.
Everything about it echoed his presence—the deep, matte walls, the low lighting, the faint scent of something sharp and unfamiliar in the air. Not chemical. Not human.
They stepped into the cockpit, a narrow bridge flanked by curved panels, softly glowing interfaces, and a large, wraparound viewport of clear glass. Before them layspace.
Endless.
Terrifying.
Beautiful.
She blinked, stunned, as the stars spilled across her vision, millions of them, scattered like diamonds across a velvet sea. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe properly.
