Page 34 of Sold to the Nalgar
And then, all of a sudden, he was there, returning like a whisper through shadows.
Her breath caught.
He didn’t clomp or stomp or make any dramatic entrance. He simplywas, his presence consuming the space the moment he entered it. Smooth and fluid, moving like smoke. Like muscle forged into elegance. That face—inhuman and sculpted, high-boned and angular—reminded her again of how terrifyingly beautiful he was.
He approached the bed.
She stiffened.
He didn’t speak. He just... lowered himself to sit beside her, silent as ever. She could feel the heat of him through her robe. Smell something faint and mineral on his skin. Her body tensed like a wire pulled taut.
Then he held out his hand.
In his palm… There was a small silver object.
Her eyes widened.
That thing. The one the green bastard had used. She knew it.
The translator.
Her pulse jumped, heart slamming against her ribs.
So... he wanted totalk?
What did he want to say?
And more terrifying... what did he wantherto understand?
She stared at the device, then at him.
And suddenly, she wasn’t sure which she feared more.
CHAPTER 19
He spoke, his voice filling the space like distant thunder, deep and resonant. It curled around her, impossible to ignore, sinking into her bones and vibrating in her core.
“You have questions,” he said. “Ask.”
She shuddered, not just from his voice but from him—sitting there, draped in that sleek black robe that seemed spun from shadows. Its sharp angles and barely contained power made her skin crawl. His posture was relaxed, but it was wrong: that calm, almost languid pose like a predator pretending to be at ease, ready to strike.
He leaned slightly, one arm braced behind him on the bed, weight tilted as if he were a lounging cat. Nothing about him looked safe. The glow of his unblinking red eyes was unreadable, terrifying not only because of what he was, but because she couldn’t stop staring. Her body betrayed her, reacting instinctively: the flicker of awe or fear, the pull of fascination—she wasn’t quite certain which.
Ask,he said.
And that made her furious. As if he were doing her a favor, as if this was normal, as if she owed him or needed to comply.
“You want me to ask?” she said, voice low, hoarse with disbelief. “Fine.” She sat up taller, wrapping her robe more tightly around her, her heart pounding fiercely.
“Why me?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why the hell am I here? What did I ever do to deserve being dragged from my life, from my planet?”
Her voice cracked on the last word. She inhaled sharply, fighting the trembling in her limbs, the surge of tears that threatened to spill over.
But he just watched her calmly, waiting. As if he wanted more.
Her stomach clenched. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and in that moment, she wanted to lash out or scream or run. Instead, she stayed rooted, her breath ragged, nails digging into her palms beneath the fabric of her robe. She fought to hold back the flood of fear, the crushing weight of the truth pressing down on her:
She was alone.
