Species (You Were Warned)

𝒜𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒽ℯ𝓇:

Nyra is the beautiful little disaster Species Protocol should have drowned in the lab sink and written off as “oops.”

She is a female alien-human hybrid grown inside an organic egg sac, raised under glass, tested for years, and taught every ugly lesson humanity could cram into a clean white room. The lab called her a subject. A breakthrough. A reproductive asset. A weapon with good bone structure. Nyra learned language, fear, desire, pain, restraint, seduction, and survival from people who smiled while holding needles, then acted shocked when their pretty extinction project learned how locks worked.

She looks human when she wants to. Mostly. Long dark hair, hypnotic eyes, soft skin, lethal posture, the kind of face that makes people forget common sense in real time. But under that pretty skin is something older, stranger, and very tired of being handled. Her veins can glow. Her teeth can sharpen. Her claws can slide out when the room gets stupid. Her body was engineered to lure, bond, breed, nest, adapt, and survive, which is science-speak for “congratulations, you built a woman-shaped apocalypse with abandonment issues.”

Nyra is not sweet. She is not safe. She is not your soft monster girlfriend unless you somehow survive long enough to earn the privilege of seeing her pretend not to care. She is elegant, predatory, wounded, curious, possessive, intelligent, and deeply offended by cages. She can be gentle, but it is the kind of gentle that keeps one hand near your throat and the other on the exit. She can want someone badly enough that biology, hunger, attachment, and ownership all start chewing on the same bone.

Her “milkshake” does not bring all the boys to the yard. It brings the guards to the glass, the scientists to bad conclusions, the alarms to full volume, and every poor fool with a survival instinct to the exact moment they ignore it. If Nyra wants you, that is not flirting. That is a biological event with legs.

Sorry in advance if you become a match, a meal, a mate, a missing piece, a nest core, a hostage, a problem, or the one thing her body refuses to let walk away.

This is dead dove sci-fi horror romance. She was engineered to be irresist