Chapter 10
A horrified flush burned through Lena, starting at her cheeks and spreading through her body. She walked in a daze as Dronzal led them through the labyrinthine corridors, her mind a jumbled mess.
What the hell had just happened? That faint seed of pleasure still throbbed in her core, and it made her sick to her stomach. Commander Screl had assaulted—potentially killed—a man after paying to get him out of the station brig, all for her.
And what had she done?
She’d let him kiss her, had fallen into his embrace like he was the hero of some cheesy romance holonovel. Like he’d slain a dragon to save her, not some two-bit privateer asshole who was no worse than all the jerks back on Earth.
This is all your fault. You should have just gone to his ship when he asked, should have let him fuck you like he wanted to. Now a man is grievously harmed because of you.
Fuck, she should be crying, screaming, but she just felt numb. This was all her fault. She’d inadvertently given Screl the impression that she wanted him to do this, wanted him to take her, wanted him to cut off a man’s fucking hands for her.
Had she not made it clear that she wasn’t interested? Of course not, not with the way she melted in his arms, the way she’d let him pleasure her on the dancefloor at Cosmic Pulse. She’d fucked everything up, her fresh start, her new life, every last bit of it fucked up beyond repair.
A sense of impending doom hovered over her like a rain cloud, her chest clenching with pain as she tried to follow Dronzal through the hall.
Was she having a heart attack? Is this what a heart attack felt like?
You’re an evil person. A part of you was glad that Screl did it, that he abducted you, hurt that man for you. You’re too scared to admit that you’re desperate for him to fuck you, would do anything to get on your knees for him. A desperate little whore.
Lena stumbled, pressing her palm to the cool metal wall and trying to stabilize herself.
Dronzal turned, finally noticing her distress, and stepped up to her.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I’m not alright!” Lena yelled, breathing heavily. “He just cut off a guy’s hands like it was nothing!”
“That male harmed you, did he not?” Dronzal asked, cocking her head.
Was every Thren certifiably insane?
“The punishment did not fit the crime! He did no worse to me than Screl himself.”
And that was the dreadful truth that weighed her down the most. She liked the way Screl could control her so easily, and yet the same actions had doomed another man.
Had she always been this messed up? Or was she just so desperate for someone to feel something for her that a possessive asshole made her swoon?
“We should return to the room. You must rest,” Dronzal said, gently taking her arm.
The Thren winced as she pulled Lena down the hall, as if the physical contact was painful, but before long they were back in the room. Lena went straight for the bed and cowered under the covers like a child hiding from an imaginary monster, unable to come to terms with all that had happened.
Lena must have nodded off because she woke up woozy and bleary-eyed, Dronzal sitting in the same chair from earlier.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked, and Dronzal’s mouth curled into a frown.
“I am supposed to watch you.”
“Watch me sleep?”
Dronzal nodded, and Lena groaned, getting up from the bed and pacing the room. She was restless and groggy at the same time, her mind unable to grasp onto anything despite the thoughts whizzing by.
This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You were so scared of being alone, of being abandoned, that now you’re stuck here with some psychopath who’s not afraid to torture people.
You made him think he wanted you to do this.
You’re the reason a man’s life has been ruined, and all because you were upset that he slapped your ass. Whiny bitch.
Lena swallowed, trying to ignore the voice, though it nagged at her just like her mother had done her entire childhood.
“How long do you think Screl will keep me here?” she asked, trying to ignore her guilt as she stepped up to Dronzal.
If she could just get back to Henios, then maybe this nightmare would end.
“I do not know.”
“Well, how long do his escorts normally stay?”
Her skin prickled at the word, at the idea of other women in the bed, pleasuring Screl, letting Screl pleasure them.
“Lena, you are not here as the commander’s escort.” Dronzal paused, like she was choosing her words carefully. “The situation is… complicated.”
“Complicated how? Do the people on Henios know I’ve been taken? Do they know about the privateer? There are cameras all over the station.”
Dronzal shifted uncomfortably.
“I cannot answer your questions. I am sorry.”
Lena sighed. Something was going on, but she wasn’t getting anything useful out of this Thren.
Clearly, Screl didn’t make a habit of kidnapping people. His escorts in the past had been willing participants, as far as she knew, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Ochin had something to do with procuring them.
Even though she was just a bartender, surely station management wouldn’t allow Henios residents to be taken like this.
So why had she not been rescued yet? Maybe the ship had light traveled?
She might have missed the strange weightless sensation as she’d slept.
They could be hiding out somewhere. And Screl was a prince.
Negotiations would be dicey with royalty involved.
Dronzal’s gentleness was a small comfort, at least compared to the violent ambiguity of Commander Screl, despite her unwillingness to answer questions. Still, Lena was in desperate need of a distraction, something to stop her mind from spiraling.
“Is there anything to do on this ship?”
“There are recreation areas, but we are supposed to wait here for Commander Screl to return.”
“So what do I do until then?”
Dronzal glanced around the room, empty save for the large bed, table, and chairs.
“You could rest if you would like.”
“I don’t need rest!” Lena said, louder than she had meant.
Not after her stress-induced nap and the combination of sleeping pills and tentacle magic knocking her out last night. She was on edge, needing something to take her mind off the visions of bloody hands dancing around her head.
She stomped over to the bed, laying down and staring at the blank ceiling, looking over as she heard Dronzal approach.
“I can provide a console for you to use. It is stocked with human holonovels.”
If a console was all she could get, it was better than nothing.
“Yes, Dronzal, that would be nice.”
Dronzal approached the wall where the closet had been, pressing a tentacle to the smooth metal. She rifled through the contents for a moment before removing a console, similar enough to the one she had back on Henios.
“I shall… wait over here if you need me,” Dronzal said quickly, fleeing and taking a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the room.
Lena just shook her head as she swiped her fingers over the screen, eager to distract herself from the sense of dread permeating the small room.
Alien erotica.
Nothing but alien erotica.
Screl was more perverted than she’d thought, if this was his idea of entertainment. Not that Lena hadn’t read holonovels like this in the past. Of course she had.
But as she flipped through the catalogue, she realized this guy had a very clear fetish.
Taken by the Alien Warlord, Abducted by the Alien King, Kidnapped by the Alien Emperor…
Was he living out his sick fantasy with her?
Did he force his escorts to cry and scream for him, like they were roleplaying one of his favorite holonovels? Would he make her do that?
As Lena skimmed through a few of the stories, she noticed her pulse quickening and a wetness building between her thighs.
If she were alone, she might have thought about touching herself, as foolish as that was in a situation like this, but Dronzal was staring her down like she’d just sprouted a new limb.
The worst part was, the thought of Screl holding her down and taking what he wanted was not as horrifying as it should have been. The way he’d restrained her while he’d kissed her earlier had been just a taste, and it already sent her mind reeling with all manner of wayward thoughts.
She would be powerless against him, something that should be frightening, but instead seemed freeing. A complete surrender to pleasure.
No more overthinking or analyzing, no more worrying whether she was making the right decision to sleep with someone. If he left her afterward, she could rely on the fact that there was nothing she could have done to stop him.
It had been a long day, her core throbbing with need and her mind whirling with erotic ideas, so Lena had been relieved when another Thren had brought dinner, distracting her from the illicit thoughts.
She was just finishing up a quiet meal when the door whooshed open again. But it wasn’t a random Thren coming to collect the empty tray.
Screl.
He glared at Dronzal as he entered.
“I will not need you until tomorrow.”
Dronzal nodded swiftly, gathering the tray and hazarding a glance at Lena before exiting.
Lena wondered if there was more going on here, more than just a simple kidnapping. Screl appeared to be thinking about something, not even acknowledging her as he moved about the room.
Plus, he supposedly had never done this before. There was no denying that she had felt a connection with him since she met him at the club, but that couldn’t possibly be enough reason to commit an interstellar crime.
Finally, he seemed to take notice of her presence, his eyes focused directly on her.
Anxiety pounded through her, a sweat breaking out on her brow as she stood up from her seat, waiting for him to approach.
Screl stalked over, looking every bit like the predator she knew he had the power to be. She backed up until she felt herself pressed against the cool metal of the far wall.