Chapter 5
Lena hummed along with the quiet music as she wiped down the counter at Ochin’s, on edge after the strange encounter the previous night.
She was still drowsy from the sleeping pills, and though an enormous mug of traxaccino—a Thren beverage and essentially the equivalent of a sweet coffee with hints of bitter chocolate—had helped, she was eager to get done with her shift and hide away in her quarters.
She startled when she felt a brush against her arm, but it was only Ochin. She’d been deep in thought about the mysterious male from the club and hadn’t heard her boss sneak up on her. Not that it was too difficult to do.
Ochin moved with the grace of a shadow.
“We have a special guest today, Lena dear,” she said, her hair tentacles waving excitedly behind her head. “Commander Rohieth Screl, one of the princes of the Thren Empire.”
A prince? Here? She supposed it wasn’t so outlandish; she stared at Botune every night before she went to sleep. He must be here for the Peace Accords, some sort of official royal presence while the diplomats dished out the details of the treaty.
She waited for Ochin to continue. What did any of that have to do with her? She was always polite, even to species that weren’t so friendly. Everyone was welcome at Ochin’s as long as they followed the rules and paid their tabs.
“He has… specifically requested your service. He is with a small group at one of the private tables.”
Heat rushed to her face as she glanced toward the exclusive section tucked away in the bar’s corner. It was typically unoccupied as there were far classier drinking establishments on Henios, but clearly today was the exception.
Silky red curtains partially obscured the group, but there was one Thren looking directly at her. One who looked familiar, his glowing almond eyes unblinking.
The male she’d met last night.
“Me? Are you sure?” Lena asked, a slight hitch in her voice.
She’d danced with Thren royalty?
No wonder everyone at Cosmic Pulse had been desperate to get out of his way. But why had he wanted her, when he certainly could have had his choice of dance—and probably bed—partners?
And why the hell was he here? Was he stalking her?
“Oh, I’m sure. The Threns can be gruff, but they’re not so bad. And the prince usually tips well. It’s important we keep them happy; their government has done a lot of good for this station.”
“Really?” Lena asked, unable to conceal the shock in her voice.
“Who do you think guards Henios? The Alliance may be the ones running this station, but Botune protects it with its proximity and reputation. That’s why the prince is here for the Peace Accords.”
Lena pondered that as she tugged at her clothes, making sure her unofficial work uniform was in order for the group. Her skirt was short, definitely more risqué than her usual black pants, but she had wrongfully assumed that she would work behind the bar today.
“What do I call him? Prince Rohieth? Your Majesty?”
Ochin laughed.
“Commander Screl should be just fine.”
Lena nodded and switched on her customer service smile as she made her way over to the private table, trying to tell herself that this was all just a big coincidence.
The prince had happened to be at Ochin’s and recognized her from the club.
He was just being friendly by requesting her service.
There was nothing weird about this, and certainly her heart was just fluttering from the usual nerves and nothing else.
She pushed her way past the red curtain and tried to ignore her racing heart as she looked around the small area.
All four of the Threns wore a similar uniform—black pants, loose shirts, and structured combat jackets, iridescent and shining like beetles in the mood lighting. And they all watched her expectantly.
“Hello! We welcome you to Ochin’s this evening.
My name is Lena, and I’ll be here for whatever you may need,” she said, her quiet voice gaining traction as she spoke.
She looked at the male she’d danced with, the prince, as he sat at the small table.
“Commander Screl, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and put on her best smile, trying not to make her discomfort so obvious.
The commander looked her up and down, four eyes roving across her body in unison.
“Is there anything I can get you?” she inquired, as all four Threns remained silent.
“Come here.”
He had that same husky voice from last night, somewhat monotonous, though that could be because the inflections were lost in the translation of her neural implant. He raised his arm and beckoned her.
Lena’s breath caught in her throat, sweat beading on her brow, suddenly hot despite the cool breeze of recycled air. What did he want with her?
She stepped forward, trembling slightly, and reached out a hand.
He took it with surprising gentleness, and for a moment she wondered if this was the way one greeted a Thren.
Then, a blue-gray tentacle circled up her arm, reeling her in closer.
It had her in a vicelike grip, pulling her in until she was almost on top of him.
She tried to remain calm, knowing that Ochin could taste her with her tentacle appendages, whatever that meant.
Perhaps Commander Screl was just politely saying hello.
Even seated, he was still as tall as her, though at five foot four, she was hardly an above average-sized human. One tentacle spiraled around her bare arm as another touched her waist. The other two were brushing her hair softly before one reached down to caress her cheek.
Lena froze, unsure what to do.
Suckers covered the tentacles, not slimy or wet like one would expect, but warm to the touch as they slithered across her face and body.
The small suction cups expanded and contracted, suckling like they were tasting her flesh.
One tentacle looped completely around her waist, and her eyes widened in shock.
“What an interesting pet you are,” Screl said with what seemed to be a laugh. The others joined in, a metallic ringing filling the small space. “A lovely little human. One who spurned me last night.”
He tilted her face up with the tip of a tentacle, not letting her look away from his radiant blue eyes. All the appendages tensed for a moment before they released her.
Lena let out a breath and took a step back, bumping into one of the other Threns. It was like walking into a solid wall. She mumbled an apology as she retreated to the edge of the private area.
Screl never stopped staring at her.
“We will take some Thren ale. Ochin always keeps a barrel on hand for me,” he said.
He finally tore his eyes away from her, speaking to one of his friends in a hushed tone, and she nodded quickly, turning on her heel to get the hell out of there.
Back at the bar, Ochin slunk over to her with a wry grin.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was so handsy?” Lena asked, a hint of anger rising in her voice as she typed in their order.
She thought about mentioning last night, but decided against it. He really thought that she’d spurned him? Like she owed him something because he paid her tab and danced with her? What a pretentious asshole.
Now she was glad she hadn’t taken him back to her room.
“I am sorry, my dear. He isn’t normally, at least not with me,” Ochin mused, her hair tentacles pressed tightly to the back of her head. “But I know he enjoys humans.”
“What does that mean?”
“Threns are quite speciesist. It’s why they’ve resisted joining the Alliance for so long.
They think the rest of us are beneath them.
And the prince… well, he’s not usually so friendly.
When he’s on the station, he keeps to himself.
But there are rumors he enjoys bringing human escorts back to his ship whenever he is here. ”
She grimaced. When Ochin said rumors, she meant it was a fact. Lena wouldn’t have been surprised if her boss was the one supplying Screl with humans.
“Escorts? He knows I’m not an escort, right?”
Ochin sighed.
“Yes, of course, dear. I made that very clear. Do you feel comfortable bringing their drinks over? I understand if not. I can take them myself.”
“No,” Lena assured, grabbing the tray full of ales, but continuing to eye Ochin warily. “I can do it.”
She hoisted it in the air and walked it over to Screl and his friends, pushing the curtain aside with her ass. All four of the Threns watched her intently as she placed the silver tray on the small table. The other three grabbed their drinks, but Screl just continued to stare at her.
“You are new here,” he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.
“I am,” Lena replied plainly.
She took a step back from the table, unsure whether she should leave. As much as her body urged her to run, another part begged her to stay, unwilling to listen to her brain as it told her to get out of there.
Screl looked like he had more to say, but he just picked up his glass instead, the others clearly waiting for him to drink.
As she watched intently, two tongues pushed into the amber liquid, lapping up the ale like a cat from a bowl.
The way they moved simultaneously horrified and intrigued her, her stomach turning as a pleasant pressure filled her lower body.
The other three began to drink and converse quietly with each other.
Screl set the now half-empty glass back down, his almond eyes glowing.
“Come sit with me, little pet,” he said, his hand reaching out to her once more.
Sit? Where did he want her to sit? She took a hesitant step forward, and he grasped her tightly, pulling her onto his lap.
Lena let out a gasp as she fell hard, Screl’s tentacles tangling in her hair and resting on her shoulders. His solid arms wrapped loosely around her waist as her body fluttered with nerves, and she locked her muscles, willing herself to stop trembling.