Born of Ice

Yeah, this guy meant business and was ready for trouble.

And the men with him were no different. There was one, a Hyshian by the looks of him, to his right. A few inches shorter, the Hyshian was no less ripped. His black hair fell in long braids to the middle of his back. He seemed to be around the same age as the first man she’d noticed.

Instead of black, he wore dark brown with even more weapons strapped to his body. His long coat was sleeveless, showing his bulging arms. Thick gold bracelets encircled both of his wrists and one thin band wrapped around his left bicep—a mark of marriage in his world.

Yeah, he was every bit as deadly.

The third she suspected was a mecha. A good two inches taller than the one who’d spoken, he had dark blue hair and lighter blue skin. With his skin tone, he looked like a Rugarion, but their lips and eyes were black instead of the darker blue his were. As with the others, he was absolutely gorgeous. Well-muscled and perfectly sculpted.

He also seemed remarkably peeved—something impressive, since it was hard to get emotional programming perfected in an AI.

The mecha glared at the one who’d spoken. “My name is not ‘Dammit, Vik’ and I find it ironic that you think I can commune with all metal beings when you can barely communicate your point of view to your own parents. And they birthed you. I did not give birth to this ship. Last time I checked, I was male and that would be impossible on a multitude of levels.”

The other man laughed. “What do you think, Dev? Can we make a mod on Vik so that he could give birth?”

The mecha scowled at him. “Careful, Sway, I could easily lock you in your room again . . . accidentally, of course.”

The Hyshian pulled out a blaster and angled it at his head. “I knew it, you metal bastard.”

The man he’d called Dev let out an irritated breath before he disarmed the Hyshian. “Are we just going to stand here taking pot shots at each other? Or can we focus our collective ADD on getting us off this shit hole?”

Sway glowered at him. “Look, no one wants off this hole worse than I do. I’m open for suggestions, Captain I-Can-Do-it-Myself. Do you have any idea what’s sending off a warning?”

Dev gave him a droll stare that sent a chill down her spine. “Yeah, the malfunction system that won’t let us launch.”

Vik snorted. “I suggested we hire a new engineer, but someone ignored me.” He slid his gaze to Dev.

Dev grimaced. “And what was I supposed to do? Shit one out? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a plethora of engineers here.”

“Plethora?” Sway mocked. “What kind of girl word is that?”

Dev went for his throat, only to have Vik come between them.

Vik shoved the Hyshian back. “Sway, do not bruise the sacred entity. I don’t want to get dismantled because you desecrated the magic seed. Now both of you behave like you’re actually grown men.”

Alix scowled. It was like watching a group of kids on a playground.

Deadly, scary kids, but . . .

You have to get in there and get on his ship.

I don’t want to go.

Just do it.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to walk forward. Please don’t let them shoot me.

“Excuse me, scary people. Your rear stabilizer’s down.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to her with an intensity that was absolutely terrifying. She had to fight the urge to run.

Instead, she held her ground as she faced them.



Devyn froze at the sound of the husky female voice that reminded him of a soft, cool caress sliding down his naked spine. Without conscious effort, his mind flashed on an image of what the woman who possessed such a voice must look like. His body roared to life at the prospect of spending some time with her.

Suddenly, the idea of staying on this stifling station for a little longer seemed appealing. A sly smile curved his lips as he turned toward the woman of his dreams.

His smile faded as an electrical shock jolted him and he saw the face of a woman he hadn’t seen in years . . .

The last face he’d ever expected to see again.

It’s not her.

She’s dead.

You killed her . . .

No, this wasn’t Clotilde. While they shared very similar features and coloring, Clotilde had been tiny and short. The woman in front of him was almost as tall as Sway and built for battle. Her body was well-honed and strong. Not to mention she looked like a lost puppy—something Clotilde had never been. Even first thing in the morning, she’d always been dressed to perfection. Always in complete and utter control of every situation.

Except for the night you killed her . . .

He shoved that thought away before it ignited his temper.

A faded red cap covered the woman’s head, shielding her eyes from him. Her pale blonde hair fell over one shoulder in a thick braid hanging to her waist. She wore a baggy brown battlesuit that had seen far better days. Even her boots were scuffed and worn out.