Claimed by the Zandian (Zandian Brides 6)

“Cloaking enabled,” Benn says, flicking the switch. “We should be able to get over the military bases now and drop the equipment.”

“Report back when it’s done,” Master Seke says. “Do not get caught.”

Right. Our capture could set off a war between Zandia and Ocretia and our species is not prepared to take on the galaxy superpower. Yet.

“Better to die than be captured,” Benn mutters and I know he’s thinking about his family again.

Veck. Why did Master Seke select a male with a family for this mission? I’m expendable—he is not.

Except I’m not expendable.

That thought hits me like a fist to the gut. I’ve been trying to pretend I never learned Zina’s pregnant. Pretending I never knew the human who completely twisted my life and my heart around her finger.

But, I too, have a young at home. And because of my gene defect, its mother may not even survive the pregnancy.

The despair that washes over me nearly makes me double over with pain.

Zina.

I can’t lose her.

Don’t think about it.

I have a mission that is not yet complete.

When I get back, I can face the situation I ran from like a coward.

I navigate to the first military site, careful to stay out of range, even though we’re cloaked. “This should be close enough,” I tell Benn.

“Initiating spysat drop,” he replies, his fingers working over the controls. After a few moments, he reports, “Drop complete. Next location.”

We continue for the rest of the planet rotation until all the spysats have been dropped. We’re just leaving the last one and headed back to the debris field when a blast hits the ship and explodes into a ball of fire.

Buzzers sound. Water streams from overhead sprinklers.

“We’re hit!” Benn shouts over the comms. “Repeat, we’re hit!”

I pull up on the controls, but the ship doesn’t respond. We’re free-falling.

Free-falling onto Ocretion soil. Even if we survive the fall, we’d be better off taking poison and ending our lives than giving the Ocretions any proof of our treachery.

I continue to work the controls, hoping to somehow land this craft.

“Danica!” Benn calls his mate to say goodbye.

Oh, veck.

I unbuckle my harness and stumble to my feet. There has to be a way out of this.

Think, Tarek, think.

“Danica, I love you—”

What about my young? I’ll never meet him or her. And if my precious Zina doesn’t survive, he or she will be an orphan. And it’s that thought, more than any other that makes my decision. I’m not ready to give up and die rather than be taken prisoner. We have to fight to survive.

Veck, no!

I activate the oxygen in my flight helmet and secure my flight suit. I yank Benn out of his seat and activate his as well.