Cryo is a tricky thing, in my experience.

Most of the time, it puts a person completely under, an empty shell hurtling through space without so much as an idea of the time passing by.

Thanks to my time in the lab, the worst the drugs did was make me drowsy.

I used the abundant amount of time to study every passenger's scent, memorizing them in case I had need to hunt or evade them later.

Most were harmless civilians, men outnumbering women about six to one, either young guys looking for work elsewhere or older couples traveling to visit family.

Incense and old parchment singled out a holy man on some sort of religious journey or something, with one…two…three boys, acolytes most likely.

One of the women smelled of sweat and leather, matching another of the passengers, and I pegged the pair for free settlers.

Still, no matter how much I tried not to, my attention kept returning to the cryo tube across from mine, and the convict within.

Every time I did, something would clench in my belly, a knot of not-quite-pain, and I couldn't understand it.

I've dealt with a lot of men, some even bigger than him, and I'd never considered them anything more than prey or, if I was in the mood, amusing toys.

My own kind were annoyances most of the time, really, and often worse than the guards.

At least they shut up when I growled at them.

Something about this guy was different, though, and I couldn't pin down why.

It made my stomach do flips and something twist up deep inside, an almost-pleasant feeling I'd never felt before, and I wanted to feel more of it.

With a growl, I knocked my head back against the wall of my prison, frustrated.

I certainly had a lot of time to figure out how I was going to go about that, if nothing else.


About twenty-two weeks into our little trip, the Hunter-Gratzner ran into some…turbulence.

I may have been horribly distracted by my own thoughts-heat and tongue and teeth, gripping just right on my throat as rough hands smoothed down my sides-, but I knew something was wrong.

Shrugging off the effects of cryo, I perked up, pupils narrowing as I tried to pinpoint what had gone wrong.

A faint whistling sound was my only warning before what must have been meteor debris impacted the hull, burning through the thick metal like hot knives through butter.

Whatever atmosphere the transport had was being sucked right out, and as it shut down to keep from losing all life-support systems, gravity turned back on like a heavy weight.

The entire ship started to rattle and shake, probably from entry to the atmosphere of some nearby planet, as emergency protocols engaged to awaken the crew.

If the captain was any good, the landing would be smooth enough-

Blood was spilled further up as that whistling sound returned, and I recognized the captain's scent.

Well, shit.

Forcing my body to go lax and ride out the ship's rocky descent, I watched the metal walls for buckling or breaks.

Maybe it would hold up under the crash-

Something behind me groaned and creaked ominously, and I bit back a curse.

Okay, change of plans.

Ripping through the straps holding me down, I didn't waste any time with using the emergency release.

The door caved under the force of my kick, flying open and off somewhere to the side, and I leapt out of my cage without a moment's hesitation.

Landing in a forward roll, my feet hit the convict's cryo tube to stop me from face-planting on the glass, muscles tensing so my head didn't snap back from the sudden stop.

I only took a moment to focus my eyes on the chained man before the sound of tearing metal caught my attention from behind.

The wall started to buckle under the outside strain, and Spot jolted awake as the cryo wore off, one eye wide in dawning realization.

Head tilted back to see, I only offered him a cheeky smile and a wave moments before it gave way and his entire chamber was sucked out like a bullet from a gun.

Claws sinking deep into the floor, I anchored myself as the scorching air roared by, heart starting to race as I caught sight of the ground far closer than I felt comfortable with.

This would be why I hate flying under anyone's power but my own.

There was one weightless moment, like jumping off a cliff, before the Hunter-Gratzner hit ground and jarred everything back into place.

Metal tore in my grip, and I was sent sprawling, a growl in my throat as I grabbed hold of a support beam to keep from hitting anything.

Taking in a deep breath once the whole behemoth of a shuttle settled into it's grave, I carefully stretched out, taking inventory of any possible injuries.

But I was made for things like this, and hardly felt winded as I found my footing on the slanted floor.

Shaking my braid back over one shoulder, I looked towards the convict to see his cryo tube broken and empty, not a drop of blood in sight.

Well, that was one less thing to worry about, I guess.

Turning at the sound of footsteps and worried shouts, where any other possible survivors were, I noticed a toppled cryo tube a couple yards away.

Someone was banging on the inside, unable to force their way out thanks to the awkward position, and I approached curiously, crouching so I could peer in.

Inside was a kid, maybe eleven or twelve, and a quick sniff told me that, despite the cropped hair and baggy clothes, the kid was a she.

Those big brown eyes looked up at me, and I just let out a defeated sigh.

Damn my strong maternal instincts.

"Hold on, kit. I'll get you out."

With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure none of the others were nearby, I dug both hands in the door's seam and pulled it open, metal buckling in my grip as it gave way.

The girl tumbled out, blinking up at me in surprise.

"So…I'm guessing something went wrong?"

I couldn't help but smile, offering a hand to help her up.

"You'd be guessing right."

Once she was standing, I turned and headed towards the front of the ship, lazily motioning for the kid to follow.

"Come on, kit. Gotta see who else made it."