I will destroy all threats to the empire with unrelenting force. Even if that threat comes in the form of a weak, fragile lesser with night-black hair and beguiling eyes.
The blades. Elite forces of the empire, nightmare to all servant-world residents just trying to scrape by. Of course I have to flee when my medical ship comes under attack.
But my escape pod is captured by their ruthless leader.
His face is hidden in an assassin's cowl. Metal sai weapons are fused to his wristbones. He can fly between spaceships like an owl and execute enemies through a hull.
Yet according to him, I'm the dangerous one.
His people's lust metal has gotten in my blood. They'll tear each other apart trying to get to me. And then? Because they can't understand their feelings, they'll tear me apart, too.
So he's taking me to the Arsenal, a massive station teeming with his blades, where I'm one papercut away from unleashing hyperviolent zombie hordes.
Well, okay.
I'm lucky he's the one who captured me. He senses the lust metal inside me, he understands the desires burning us both with unrelenting need, and he's completely unaffected.
Or, well, mostly...
