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from the cat, I reached up over my head and felt behind me. Whatever it was, it was taller than I could reach. The tiger took another step toward me, and I began speaking aloud again, hoping to distract it. “I probably look like a deranged mime, don’t I? I guess I’m glad there’s no one else here to see me.”

The cat chuffed out something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, then dropped to its haunches and began cleaning its paws.

Most likely cleaning blood off its claws.

That thought made my knees tremble again. I began inching sideways, hoping to go around whatever was blocking my way. But as soon as I did, the cat stood back up and growled, taking a menacing step toward me.

Great. I was in a standoff with a huge, green, angry tabby cat, and something invisible behind me was blocking my way out.

Not to mention a dead body lay in a pile under a bench a few yards away.

No one was ever going to believe I hadn’t had something to do with killing the mugger.

I let my head drop back against the invisible metal object with a thump.

My week kept going from bad to worse.

I had never been suicidal before, but part of me almost wanted to give up.

Maybe I should just let it end here.

Blowing out a breath, I closed my eyes. I opened them again only a second later to discover the giant tiger had taken that opportunity to move silently to stand directly in front of me.

Its hot breath brushed against me, and the white lace of my wedding dress fluttered. I didn’t know how big the thing blocking the path was. I had nowhere to go. And a monster was about to rip me to shreds, probably leaving me in a blood-soaked pile next to the mugger.

And I thought a guy with a knife was scary.

With a sob, I sank into a crouch, my back leaning against whatever was behind me, my arms wrapped around my knees, and my face tucked away so that I couldn’t see the death I felt coming for me.

So of course, that’s when a naked alien picked me up and carried me into his invisible spaceship.

Chapter Four

Dax

For a brief moment, when they ran, I considered chasing the faster of the two females. But as soon as I saw them in person, I knew without a doubt that the golden-haired curvy one in the lovely, flowing white garments belonged to me.

Mine, my inner beast growled, and I agreed.

I probably should have expected my mate to be frightened of my beast form. She had no way of knowing that a Drovekzian would never attack a female who posed no danger to him.

It also appeared that her people had no equivalent of our translation matrix, so even when I tried to tell her what was going on and calm her down, it didn’t work.

Keeping my distance apparently frightened her, as did moving toward her.

And I couldn’t help but snort in amusement at her words to me. I wasn’t entirely certain what a “kitty” was, but my translation matrix pulled the idea of a small household pet from her mind.

I might be willing to be her pet, but I was by no means small even among my own people, much less hers—and I was far from domesticated.

Her reaction to my ship suggested her people had no cloaking technology, either. No surprise there, since they were, after all, backward enough to be poisoning their own planet.

But what perplexed me more than anything else was her reaction to the death of her foe.

My translation matrix suggested that she found the site of his disembowelment both frightening and horrifying.

Did these people have no justice system?

Barbarians.

I decided to shift into my bipedal form in order to show her that I was no threat. But just as I did so, she dropped into the traditional submissive posture.

Perhaps these people are not so primitive after all.

Taking her submission as a sign of her willingness to accept me, I completed my shift, picked up her tiny form, and carried her into my ship.

Once inside, I hit the wall panel to close the door and set my new bride on her feet, delighted at her submission.

So the very last thing I expected was for my beautiful, curvy, accepting and submissive female to turn into a raging claarbeast.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she leaped at the door, pounding on it and shouting for help.

“What the garlockian hells, woman?” I demanded, even though I knew she almost certainly couldn’t understand me.

She spun around and pressed her back against the door panel, apparently frightened by the sound of my voice.

I need to have her implanted with a translator immediately.

One thing was for sure, though—I was not letting her go back into that dying world full of males who attacked their own females in open daylight.

“Computer,” I instructed, “prepare a sedative appropriate for the female now on board.” Within seconds, the computer beeped and a nearby wall panel opened to present me with a medical-grade solution-injection device.

As soon as I plucked it out of the small recess in the wall, the female muttered to herself, “Oh, great. Now it has a gun.”

I glanced at the device in my hand. She believed this to be a weapon? This female thought I planned to harm her?

Alien people might have alien ways, but this was ridiculous. Under no circumstances would I ever harm any female. Especially not one I planned to make my mate. The sooner I could get her sedated and implanted with her own translation chip, the better off we would both be.

I took a step toward her, and she squeaked and jumped.

Shaking my head, I took another step, preparing to grab her if necessary to inject the sedative.

The foolish female actually took off running.

As ridiculous as it was for her to attempt to escape me in my own ship, I had no choice but to chase her. I was

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