The cold had long since stopped biting—it just gnawed now, slow and dull, like it had crawled into my bones and was curling up there to stay. I couldn’t feel my fingers. My lips were cracked. The inside of the cargo hold stank of fear, blood, and the thick, sweet scent of the aliens who’d dumped us here.

We were supposed to be sold. We all knew it. Every single girl in this pod had been taken—from homes, cars, sidewalks—and thrown in like cargo. Cryo’d for who knows how long. Then woken up just to be told we were someone else’s property.

But something went wrong. They crashed. And now… we’re stranded. Naked, freezing, and alone on a planet that doesn’t seem to want us alive. I remember thinking: This is it. This is where I die. Not screaming, not fighting—just… fading.

Then I heard her. A voice—human. A woman shouting from outside the wreckage, calling our names, calling for us to come out. My heart hammered. At first, I thought it was a hallucination. We’d all been hearing things, seeing things, crying in our sleep.

But the door wrenched open, and there she stood. Georgie. Tall, wild red curls, skin raw from the cold, her face alight with something I hadn’t seen in days—hope. Behind her, towering in the snow, were monsters. Blue-skinned giants with glowing eyes, fangs, and muscles that looked carved from frozen stone.