3
Paal didn’t know what to do with his human. Part of him still rebelled at having her. He was a warrior, for stars’ sake, and his species was going to battle—within a few planet rotations if he read the signs correctly.
No one had said for certain which day they would strike the Finn to drive them off their planet, but judging from the acceleration of preparations going on all around him, it had to be soon.
He wouldn’t even be around to train the human to conform to Zandian society. Veck, he might not even survive the takeback. There was a chance none of them would return.
And yet the idea of even releasing her from his room—from his sight—made every cell in his body rebel.
Already her sweet, exotic scent filled the chamber, was on his tunic, his sleepdisk. His fingers. He closed his
