| Escaping Eden By Danielle Devon |
hand as if it were a plaything. “You prefer I left you
to the soldiers?”
“No, I . . . I just don’t understand.”
Satal shrugged her shoulders. “If I left you, they
would kill you. So I brought you here.”
Trave blew out a heavy breath and leaned his
head back against the metal wall. His head hurt,
and it made his thoughts cloudy. “What now?”
“We get you home.”
He cast a cautious glance at her. Could he trust
her? What were the chances that a Drakon would
actually help him when their people had spent the
last five years killing each other? “Why?”
She drew in a shaky breath, “Because sometimes
the Fates have other plans.”
***
“This is never going to work.” Trave eyed the busy
port from the shadows. More than a dozen Drakons wove in and out of a sea of grounded spacecrafts.
Satal smiled at him weakly from behind one of the
large pillars. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”
“This is never going to work,” he said again.
“Trust me,” she flashed him a dazzling smile
“When I give you the signal, you climb into that
crate right there. You see the one marked with the
Drakon seal?”
He started to protest, but Satal was already walking toward one of the fighters. He moved deeper
into the shadows and considered the lunacy of
what he was about to do. Hide in a crate and
sneak onto a Drakon ship. It was insane, but it
was also the only way off this godforsaken rock.
She moved with ease and confidence, casting
sweet smiles at every Drakon she passed. They
returned her smile but didn’t seem to give her sudden appearance in the hangar a second thought.
She crossed to a tall, dark-skinned Drakon in
uniform and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
Trave’s stomach tightened as the uniformed
Drakon put his hand over hers. She cast a glance
over her shoulder and gave him a nod. Trave took
that as the signal, drew in a deep breath, and told
himself it was now or never.
Quietly and quickly he made his way to the crate,
lifted the lid, and climbed inside. It was dark and
cramped and didn’t appear to have any air holes.
He prayed Satal would return, and he wouldn’t
suffocate in this dark and empty box.
***
“No, why?”
Trave groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
Trave had no idea how long he had been in the
crate before he finally heard voices. It could have
been minutes or hours for time seemed to stand
still in the darkness.
Her brow furrowed, “What is kidding?”
“Da kasta emplem ehana tu,” he heard Satal say.
“It means you can’t be serious.”
“En tu,” came the reply.
“Oh yes,” she beamed. “I am serious.”
The crate lifted, and Trave shifted with it. He
couldn’t discern which way he was moving, but
moments later, he and the crate fell to the floor
She nodded to one of the large crates just a few
feet in front of them.
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