Chapter 7
Once again, the sleeping pills were a mistake.
It was a vicious cycle, one she never seemed quite able to break, no matter how hard she tried. The anxious thoughts made her restless and unable to sleep, but when she took the pills, she was groggy in the morning, as if she still hadn’t been able to rest properly.
She sometimes went weeks between doses, but the anxiety was always in the back of her mind when she was lying in her dark room, attempting to nod off.
There didn’t even need to be any real stress in her life, in fact, it was often just that full body electrified sensation of restlessness that kept her up, not even coherent thoughts.
Lena was regretting her decision as she wiped down the bar top, dragging even after three traxaccino’s this morning, counting down the minutes until the end of her shift.
It wasn’t too far off, but the evening crowd was a bit rowdy and she was certain it had something to do with the hubbub of the Peace Accords.
She’d purposefully kept her console off this morning, not wanting to see any news that would remind her of Screl, but her plan had backfired. Instead, she’d paced around her room, obsessing over how the diplomatic meetings were going and wondering if she’d see him again before he left the station.
At least work had taken her mind off things.
Michaela stepped up beside her, smiling sweetly.
She was one of the other bartenders, another human, and Lena thought that maybe they could bridge the gap from work friend to real friend one day, though she’d been too nervous to suggest hanging out outside of Ochin’s yet.
“I heard about you and the Thren commander,” Michaela said with a knowing smile, nudging Lena with a playful elbow.
Michaela was young, in her twenties, and had transferred from Adora Space Station a couple of months before Lena had arrived. She seemed so carefree, always with a genuine smile on her face, and Lena’s cheeks flushed as she tried to think of what to say.
“Oh, uh. Didn’t know that was anything worthy of talking about.”
Michaela scoffed.
“When an alien prince has a crush on one of my friends, I absolutely need to know the details!”
Did she say friend?
Lena bit her lip into a smile, but shook her head.
“There’s nothing to know. He seemed very serious about everything, but we just met. He asked me to go to his ship.”
Michaela squealed as if Lena had just said the most exciting thing in the galaxy, letting out a tittering laugh.
“And did you go?” she asked, wiggling her dark eyebrows. “There weren’t any Threns on Adora, but I can only imagine what those tentacles can do.”
If Lena was blushing before, now she was as red as a tomato, glancing around the bar to make sure no one was listening.
The music was loud, and no customers were hounding them for a drink at the moment, so she begrudgingly continued.
“No, of course I didn’t. I’m, uh, it’s been a while for me…”
Did she really just admit that to her pretty, young coworker? Well, Michaela was the one who had called her ‘friend’, hadn’t she? This is what friends did, right? Talk about their sex lives—or lack thereof.
“So? I bet he’d take good care of you.”
She had a feeling Michaela was right, but that didn’t mean she needed to go to bed with him.
“I think he has some pheromones or something. It gives me the creeps. Besides, I’m not really a one-night stand person.”
Well, she was, but she didn’t want to be. Not anymore.
“Pheromones are nothing! Wait until you meet a Salixoid and he douses you with his sex pollen. That’s a really wild ride.”
Now it was Lena’s turn to laugh, shaking her head as one of the other waitstaff inputted an order.
An Aurora Float.
Lena got to making it as Michaela delivered the drinks she’d been working on, but when she returned, she had an evil grin on her face.
“You know,” Michaela said. “I’m not so sure he’d only want you for a night. Ochin told me about how he freaked out on Adrax.”
“He seems like a beast.”
“I mean, a beast in bed, maybe. He’s some sort of diplomacy expert. I heard he was educated with humans when he was young, which is why he’s so into them. Into you.”
Lena rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think he’s into me. Not beyond whatever weird male dominance thing he’s got going on.”
“How do you know? You’re a total babe! And a sweetie. He’d be a fool not to treat you like his queen.”
“He’s not a king. He’s a prince.”
“And you could be his princess.”
Lena groaned as she heard a commotion from a table a few feet away.
“Hey! We need more drinks here!”
It was a group of human men, ones from a small privateer ship that had just arrived on Henios.
The Alliance government had tentative control over ships like this, using them unofficially to do their dirty work, at least if the gossip was true.
This group had been grating on her, reminding her of the assholes back home, though she had politely served them as always.
“I’ll get them,” Michaela said, nudging Lena with a grin as she made her way around the bar top.
Lena returned to cleaning up her space, trying to stifle a yawn, then made three more Aurora Floats as Michaela brought more beers to the humans.
The din of conversation quieted, and when she looked up from her work, she immediately saw the reason.
Screl.
He was wearing the same uniform as before, though had left the combat jacket behind, his muscles bulging out of his tight-fitting black shirt like they had that night at Cosmic Pulse. His eyes were glued to her as he made his way up to the bar, taking a seat and giving her a smirk.
“C-Commander Screl,” she stammered, swallowing hard to try to get a hold of herself.
What the hell was he doing here? And without his entourage?
She’d assumed he’d head back to Botune after the talks today, and yet, here he was, sitting at her bar like he was any other customer.
“Lena,” he said, nodding his head. “How are you?”
How was she?
He’d practically drugged her with his alien pheromones, tried to convince her to come back to his ship, and he was acting like nothing strange had happened.
“I’m fine,” she said curtly, vowing not to let him touch her with those tentacles, unsure that she’d be able to resist for a third time. “What can I get you?”
Screl smirked like he had a snarky response on the tips of his tongues, but responded simply.
“A Thren ale, please.”
Lena tapped in the order, then went to the other end of the bar, taking her time as she refilled Honur’s wine glass. The commander was being oddly polite, a thought which freaked her out more than his over the top advances.
Of course he is. You rejected him. He’s not interested in you anymore.
That was a good thing. Yes, a good thing. She wasn’t going to his ship, so why did it matter what he thought of her? Michaela hadn’t been working last night, and she was so beautiful and young, there was no way he would still have been interested, anyway.
The ding notified her that one of the barbacks had poured her a glass from the barrel in back, and she retrieved it from the window before setting it in front of Screl.
“I hear you’re good at negotiations,” she said, not quite sure why she was making conversation with him.
He laughed, the dark sound making her core clench as he looked her up and down.
“I always get what I want.”
“Is that so?” she asked, trying to act busy by cleaning the bar top for the umpteenth time, though it was already sparkling.
“It is.”
Lena glanced around the bar and caught the ardent gaze of the leader of the group of human privateers. He waved his hand lazily at her, and she rolled her eyes, but was thankful for the distraction.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, not even looking at Screl as she made her way from behind the bar.
Where had Michaela gone? She was conspicuously absent, though Zegrox was still parked in his usual corner, and she brushed off her skirt as she stepped up to the table.
“Can I get you all anything else?” she asked, but before she could even finish her question, a sharp pain zipped up her spine, the leader slapping her ass hard and gripping tight.
“I can think of something we’d like,” he said, dragging her forward.
Every muscle in her body was numb, so stiff she couldn’t seem to get any of them to cooperate as his other hand squeezed her bare thigh under her skirt. Her heart was pounding, and she felt like she’d forgotten how to breathe, no air making it to her lungs.
She couldn’t stop him, his thumb reaching up and grazing her panties as the entire table laughed.
A low growl—no, two low growls—interrupted his stroking, and she followed his horrified gaze to the males towering over them.
Zegrox and Screl.
The look of pure hatred etched on Screl’s face finally got her to move, and she shrugged out of the man’s grasp, taking a step toward the Thren commander.
“Out! NOW!” Zegrox bellowed at the table, the humans scrambling to leave as the bouncer followed closely behind.
Lena grabbed Screl’s arm, dragging him away from the scene as he reluctantly followed her. Her adrenaline was pumping, and though it wasn’t the first time some jackass had grabbed her ass, it was the first time at Ochin’s, and that broke her heart.
She didn’t know what she was doing, but felt comforted by Screl’s presence, pulling him through the crowd and into an empty alcove, a spot for a store or restaurant that hadn’t yet made its way to Henios.
“Why didn’t you let me take care of that male?” he growled, pressing his hands on either side of her head as he backed her up against the cool, chrome wall. “I know he did not have your permission.”
Lena’s breath caught in her throat, and she stumbled over her words, still shaken up by the incident.
“I… I’m fine. It, uh, happens sometimes, but Zegrox had it under control.”
“Customers touch you like that?” he asked, his eyes glowing with their own iridescence as he glared down at her.
“Not here,” she quickly rectified, trying to resist the temptation to rest her hands on his broad chest, instead keeping her arms glued to the wall. “Not usually, at least.”