Pursued: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Romance (Raider Warlords of the Vandar Book 4)

out with Corvak and Svar on each side of me. “We’ll take the lead. The rest of you fan out and look for any signs of a crew.” I glanced up. “Do not neglect to search the ventilation ducts and ceiling panels.”
This ship was not as dated and rundown as the human ship I’d boarded with Kratos. Despite evidence it had been recently attacked—patches and scorch marks on the hull—the interior was in decent repair. The ambient lighting in the narrow corridors was low, illuminating the pale gray walls with a blue glow, and the only sounds came from our footsteps and the occasional computerized beep as we made our way toward the front of the ship.
Even though Corvak had informed me that our scanners hadn’t been able to detect much in the way of life signs, he’d also admitted the scanners had been blocked. I’d held out hope that this meant an imperial fleet would be lying in wait for us, but there was no sign of that, or even a skeleton crew. What kind of freighter flew with no crew? It wasn’t small enough to be a single-man ship, unless the captain was as bold as he was foolish.
Raiders peeled off in pairs as we continued through the corridors until Svar stopped and raised a fist. His eyes were locked on the scanner in his hand, and he jerked his head toward the sealed door in front of us. “I’m picking up a life sign, Raas.”
“A life sign?”
He grimaced. “Just one.”
So, the freighter contained a solo captain. I was irritated that all our effort had been for one person, but I was also intrigued. It was unthinkable for a Vandar to fly solo. We lived and fought together, and there was no concept of glory independent of our hordes. The only solo captains I’d met were battle-hardened aliens who came from species that valued living alone, or criminals who were on the run. I lifted my battle axe across my chest, curious what species of creature was on the other side of the door. “Let’s meet this captain.”
Corvak wedged the tip of his curved axe between the seam in the doors and forced it open with a roar, then he and Svar rushed inside. I followed with a loud battle cry, prepared to dodge blaster fire. But there was none.
Instead, my majak and battle chief stood on the compact command deck with their axes raised and their mouths open. The captain of the ship was not a brazen soldier, or even a grizzled smuggler. She was a female. A human female.
But she was not like the female captain who’d greeted Kratos with fury and defiance when we’d taken that ship. No, this creature sat slumped in the captain’s chair with bruises on her face and blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.
Raising her head, she met my eyes with her own dark, slightly winged ones. “I knew someone would come to save me.”
Save her? Corvak and Svar both swung their heads to me.
Tvek. I dropped my axe and groaned. We hadn’t found a worthy opponent or a valiant battle. We’d found someone looking for rescue.

Chapter Four
Alana
“Took you long enough,” I muttered under my breath as voices rumbled outside the door to the bridge.
Not only had I been floating in space with my engines powered down since second watch, but it had also taken the Vandar longer than I’d expected to reach me. My heart knocked against my ribs as the door was wrenched open, but it was from excitement, not fear.
It was finally time.
When they thundered onto the bridge, I kept my brow furrowed and my shoulders slumped to feign weakness. I didn’t have to fake my injuries, though. When I was done with this mission, I was going to find the imperial soldier who’d been tasked with roughing me up and give him a little payback. He’d seemed to enjoy slapping me around a bit too much, and his blows had been harder than they’d needed to be to produce a nominal amount of bruising. As it was, my left cheek throbbed, and I was pretty sure one of my back teeth was loose. It would explain the metallic taste every time I swallowed.
I waited a beat until I lifted my head. “I knew someone would come to save me.”
There were three raiders standing shoulder to shoulder in front of me. All were enormous with dark hair spilling over their shoulders. They wore leather kilts and lace-up boots, but little else. Their broad chests were bare except for the black swirling marks across their muscles.
Correction. One of them was not fully bare chested. He had buff-colored shoulder armor that buckled across his chest, and finely tooled leather sheathing his forearms. I assumed he was the one in charge, so I focused my attention on him.
He groaned and lowered his circular battle axe.
“It’s another human, Raas,” one of his fellow raiders said in the universal language.
Raas. The Vandar word for warlord—the leaders of their hordes. I’d never actually seen a Vandar Raas before, and I took a moment to take him in. The warlord’s long hair matched the dark scruff covering his cheeks and framing full lips that were currently curved down in a scowl. A beige tail with a black, furry tip flicked behind him in obvious agitation, making him look every bit the predator. If I wasn’t so deadly myself, I would have been terrified.
“I can see it is a human.” The Vandar leader narrowed his eyes at me. “Who are you, and what are you doing alone in this sector, female?”
“Alana.” I made my voice tremble as I spoke, reminding myself that most human women would be petrified to be facing three violent Vandar raiders. “My name is Alana.”
“And this is a Raas of the Vandar,” one of the other raiders said sharply. “You will address him as Raas, or Raas Bron and you will stand when you do so.”
My gaze returned