Hostile Awakening

I've been shot, stabbed, and tortured. I've held out through interrogations that broke better soldiers than me.

None of that prepared me for the alien who killed everyone who tried to touch me.

Name's Lissa. Spec ops. Currently: screwed.

Captured by the Thelvathi on a milk run gone sideways. Fine. I've trained for this. What I didn't train for was my body deciding to betray everything I am—or for every warrior on this station to lose their minds trying to claim me.

Fyzar was supposed to break me. Instead, he slaughtered his own people. Murdered the mentor who raised him. Committed treason for a human woman he'd known for three days.

Now we're running. Two governments want us dead. My body's doing things I can't control. And every time he gets close, I want things I shouldn't.

I'm a weapon. I don't do feelings.

Too bad nobody told him that.