The Voraxian king has come again—and this time, he's come for me. I've got no desire to be claimed by the alien king. Blue skin, seven feet, and strapped with muscle, I've seen what his kind does to humans. And I don't care that he watches me with hunger.

Miari: Blue skin. Seven feet. Strapped with corded muscle, the aliens have come again but this time, their king is here and he's watching me with hunger. A hybrid with red alien skin and brown human eyes, I've got no family and am not desired by colony men. I'm an inventor, a mechanic, a tinkerer. The alien king seeks to claim me, but he'll have to find me first. Our little colony is a scary, desperate place and I'm willing to meet it head on if it means escaping him and the alien sensations he stirs deep in my gut, where light and truth cannot touch them.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

After the death of my mother and her Bonded, I was relieved to find my own Bonds. I was sure everything would be okay if I had them. It wasn’t. The fate of our people is in my hands, and I know we’re better off if I’m alone. After five years on the run, I’m caught and dragged back to face the men I ran away from. I thought I was doing the right thing. Now, I’m not so sure.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.