by Presley Hall
I walk toward the table where the women are chatting amongst themselves, picking at the food they’ve gotten from the machines. Nadia notices me and waves. “Rose!” she calls out.
At her urging, I take a seat at the table as the other women move around to make room for me. I feel awkward and out of place at first. They’ve all been together since we woke up in the cell, and in the time that’s passed since then they’ve had plenty of time to make friends and gain a sense of camaraderie.
I, meanwhile, have been kept cooped up in Tordax’s quarters—his prize, or whatever I am. I wonder with a sudden rush of embarrassment if they know. Do they have any idea where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing?
My cheeks warm as vivid memories flood my mind, and I duck my head a little, letting my blonde hair hide my blush.
“Guys, this is Rose,” Nadia says with enthusiasm.
“We remember,” one of the women says, a little dryly.
Most of them have put their old clothes back on, but some are dressed in old crew clothing like I am, likely because their own was too damaged to recover. The woman who spoke must be wearing what she was taken in—a pencil skirt and silk blouse with high heels, and it looks completely out of place next to the rest of the women in their jeans, shorts and tank tops, t-shirts and cargo pants. She looks completely different from everyone else sitting there, and I have to wonder how she wound up in our rag-tag little group.
“I’m Harper,” she says, extending a manicured hand.
I shake it, not surprised in the least that her handshake is firm and professional. Then I glance around the table as the women each introduce themselves. Cora, Madison, Rachel, Alyssa, Lucy, and Morgan. A quiet girl who’s been looking down at her bowl of soup with some consternation—possibly with the same hesitations I had regarding the ingredients of this strange food—glances up and shyly introduces herself as Emma.
“We’ve all been talking about what we did before we got here,” Nadia says enthusiastically, clearly excited to welcome me back into the group. Some of the other women look less inclined to welcome me. I imagine most of them saw Tordax carry me off. Maybe they think I’ve been brainwashed or something.
“Harper was a CEO.” Nadia says it with awe, and I look sharply at the dark-haired woman in the pencil skirt, surprised. From what I discovered in the captain’s ledgers, the women taken from earth were generally ones whose disappearance wouldn’t be noticed or cared about much. The CEO of a large company seems like someone who’s absence would be noticed.
“I am a CEO,” Harper corrects. Her voice has a slight edge to it as she looks at Nadia and then back at me. “I ran a beauty company. You’ve probably heard of it.”
I see Emma shrink back a little at Harper’s tone, her gaze flicking back and forth among the three of us, although she says nothing.
Huh. That makes it even more surprising that Harper is here. If she was the head of a major company, her absence would have left a noticeable hole.
The other women quickly chime in with what they did back on earth, filling the tense silence after Harper’s comment. All of them were in positions more similar to mine. Madison was a gas-station employee. Morgan worked in retail. Alyssa and Rachel were unemployed. Cora was in school to be a teacher. Lucy admits with her chin held high that she was a stripper, clearly daring anyone at the table to look down on her for it.
All of us, with the exception of Harper and Lucy, were broke and down on our luck, struggling with our careers—or lack thereof—and with no boyfriends or husbands or really any friends to miss us.
Lucy wasn’t broke, but as she puts it, “Not a damn person would’ve noticed I was gone. I lived alone, hadn’t had a boyfriend in years. Every girl I worked with would’ve just been glad there was one less dancer to compete with.”
I want to know more about Harper, about how she was chosen to be scooped up and sold as an alien bride with the rest of us, but she clearly doesn’t look as if she wants to talk about it. In fact, everyone is very careful to tiptoe around mentioning the Orkun directly, or what the alien warlords planned to do with us. I’m fairly certain I’m the only one who knows the actual truth about how we wound up here, and I don’t want to let it slip to anyone else.
They deserve the truth, and I’ll tell them eventually. But I think they also deserve a few more days of ignorant bliss, a little more time to keep their faith in humanity.
“I want to go home,” Madison says sadly. “I know there wasn’t much there for us, but I miss my little apartment, and my cat. I hated my job… but I had a few things that made me happy. I don’t even know where we’re going now.”
“These Kalixians better take us back to earth,” Harper snaps, her eyes flashing. “I have a job, and friends, and responsibilities. I can’t even imagine how behind schedule I am now, or what’s happening without me. The whole damned place is probably falling apart. And if I don’t get back soon…”
She trails off, her face hardening, but it’s clear what she’s thinking—that they’ll replace her. That her job will be gone, something that’s clearly a large part of her identity.
Lucy shrugs. “I don’t know why so many of you are so eager to go back to earth. It doesn’t sound like any of us other than Harper have a hell of a lot to go back to. Who knows what we’ll find out there.” She gestures toward the wall of the mess hall, but I can tell her gesture is meant to encompass everything beyond it. “Adventure, probably. New worlds… new species… I mean, who knew that aliens were real? There’s a whole other world—hell, a whole other galaxy we had no idea about.”
“We’ll probably just find more rape and danger,” Madison says morosely. “My life on earth sucked, but it was safe.”
Nadia shrugs. “I was scared at first. But when I left earth, I was a failed model and ballerina with scars from an abusive boyfriend. Can it be worse than that?”
“I think so,” Cora says dryly. “I’m with Madison. I’ll take the familiar, even if it does suck.”
“What about you, Rose?” Emma speaks up for the first time, her voice quiet, her gaze nervously flicking around the table. “Do you have something to go back to? Do you want to?”
I shrug. Several of the women look at me curiously, and I wonder if they suspect what’s happened between Tordax and me. If so, they don’t mention it, nor do I see jealousy in their expressions.
They’d probably be disgusted by it, I think, chewing on my lip. That I’ve given in so easily to an alien creature. That I’ve loved it so much. That he’s made me come so hard. That by the end of it, I willingly touched him and brought him pleasure, too.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “I don’t have a lot of family, like most of you. My dad died when I was very young—and he was the one who really loved me. He was my rock; he taught me so many things. How to fly a kite, how to make pancakes. He bought me a kitten because he knew how badly I wanted one. He always helped me with my homework and showed up at all my extra-curricular activities. But my mom resented me—their marriage was not good when I was born, and she felt like I took all the love he had to give. So when he died…”
I shrug again, looking down at my salad. None of the ingredients in it look familiar, and I’m suddenly not sure I’m hungry at all.
“She ignored you,” Emma says quietly, her voice echoing the sadness that I feel washing over me. “She blamed you for taking away the thing she loved.”
“Yeah, I guess, even though it didn’t make sense.” I bite my lower lip. Ugh. I’m a million miles from earth, and Mom is still getting in my head. “Nothing I did was ever good enough. She always tore everything down, said I’d never amount to anything. And for the most part, she’s been right. I thought things were getting better—but then I lost my job. If I went back to earth now, I’d be on the verge of homelessness. I was trying to get a payday loan when…”
I trail off, not wanting to talk about the kidnapping, or the Orkun.
The others seem to feel the same way. Som
e are shifting uncomfortably in their seats, but I feel more relaxed than I have in a while. It’s good to be around other girls again, humans, people who feel familiar.
“Does anyone know what this food is?” Madison asks, poking at her sandwich. “I thought it was tuna fish from the picture, but…”
“It does look like some kind of fish,” Cora says hesitantly. “I don’t know if it’s anything we’re familiar with though.”
“I avoided the meat for the same reason.” I grimace, glancing at my salad. “But this doesn’t look familiar either.” I pick up one of the fried vegetable slices and bite into it experimentally. It’s not a French fry, that’s for sure, but it tastes earthy—a little sweet. Almost like a sweet potato. “These aren’t bad.”
“We’re going to have to eat more of this stuff eventually, no matter how strange it is,” Lucy points out practically. “Who knows how long we’ll be on the ship.”
Harper frowns. “It better not be too much longer,” she says grimly.
“In the meantime, though, look at the eye candy we have!” Madison drops her voice, gesturing subtly toward the table of Kalixian men. “I mean, they’re not quite human… but they look mostly human… and they’re freaking gorgeous. Like Jason Momoa, but better.”
The others turn to look at the table—all except for Harper, who clearly refuses to take part in the gawking. I feel my face flush again as I think of Tordax, and what we did just a few hours ago. I wonder what the other women would say if I told them what he’s done to me.
“They hardly wear anything at all,” Cora adds in a hushed voice. “I wonder what’s under the loincloths.”
“I bet their cocks are huge,” Lucy says, grinning.
I feel my cheeks flame even more hotly, and I desperately hope no one notices. After all, I do know. I had my hand on Tordax just a little while ago, and I felt every inch of him, watched his face as I made him…
“Rose? Are you okay?” Emma glances at me worriedly, and I cough, looking away.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say quickly. “They just make me nervous, that’s all.”
“You’re bright red.” Nadia raises an eyebrow.
“I turn red when I’m anxious.” I chew on my lower lip, trying to look appropriately worried. The truth is that my entire body feels hot when I think about Tordax, and what’s more, I almost… miss him?
But why would I miss him? He’s given me more pleasure than I could have ever dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean I should yearn for him like this.
Get a grip, Rose, I tell myself firmly, reaching for another not-French-fry.
The Kalixians at the other table have noticed that we’re looking at them. I notice more of them glancing our way, and I’m pretty sure that just as our conversation shifted to them, theirs has shifted to us.
What are they saying about us? What do they want with us?
I tense. Just because Tordax is gentle and respectful in his own way, that doesn’t mean they all will be. He hasn’t forced me… but the other men are an unknown quantity.
But if he’s in charge of all the Kalixians on this ship, as I suspect he is, surely he’s told his men to behave. Right?
As if urged on by my thoughts, one of the men stands up and begins to approach our table. I feel all the women shift around me as they watch him stride over to us, the relaxed atmosphere dissipating.
This new warrior is of the same height and size as Tordax, all rippling muscle and bronzed skin, and I notice that his horns are slightly different—straighter than Tordax’s are, and of a lighter color. His eyes are a bright green, but I see them darken as he approaches the table, shot through with the flecks of gold that I saw in Tordax’s earlier when he looked up while…
Oh god.
A fresh wave of heat washes over me at that memory. I half think I ought to beg Tordax to fuck me just to quell the tension between us. But I’m not entirely sure it would have the desired effect. It might just make me more addicted to him… because that’s what this is rapidly beginning to feel like.
The male’s gaze roves over the table, finally landing on me. He takes another step closer, looking down with those dark green eyes, a smile curving his lips. He says something in the Kalixian language that I don’t understand, and at first, I’m confused.
But then he cocks his head a little as his gaze rakes over me, settling on the neckline of my shirt. He says something else with a smile that reminds me of the one Tordax wears right before he’s about to do something to me that’ll make me moan.
Sudden understanding makes my body stiffen.
Oh.
Oh, no.
This tall alien warrior is handsome, there’s no denying that. But I feel none of the same insatiable pull toward him that I feel with Tordax. I don’t want him.
But will he listen?
I shrink back, shaking my head.
His brows furrow, as if my reaction surprises him, and he rests his palms on the table as he studies me. Maybe he’s never been turned down before. I can believe that, actually. If his skin wasn’t quite so bronzed and he didn’t have horns sticking out of his head, phone numbers would fall at his feet like confetti back on earth.
But he’s not Tordax. He’s not the one I want.
Meeting his gaze, I shake my head again, making the gesture even more emphatic.
He blinks, looking a little stumped. He has a cocky look about him that makes me think he’s used to getting his way in most things, used to charming his way through life. But his features soften a little as he takes in the panic on my face.
He speaks again, and I don’t understand the words any better this time, but I can tell the meaning behind them has changed. If I had to guess at a translation, it would be something like, can’t blame a guy for trying.
The thought brings a small smile to my lips as relief floods me. My heart thuds unevenly in my chest as he straightens, shooting the rest of the women at the table a crooked smile.
But before the gladiator can say anything else, a hand lands on his shoulder and yanks him back, throwing him into the nearest wall.
I catch sight of the culprit, and my breath stops.
It’s Tordax.
13
Tordax
I’m hard pressed to think of anything that has ever made me as furious as I feel in the moment I see Sorsir flirting with Roz.
My Roz.
When I woke to find her gone, it felt almost as if something inside of me had died. It sounds dramatic—embarrassingly dramatic for a hardened gladiator like me—but my heart sank when I saw the empty space in the bed beside me, and I ached for her in a way that was far beyond the purely physical.
I could still smell her scent on the sheets. That sweet, perfumed smell, along with the salty sweat of her skin and the lingering scent of her arousal. That in and of itself was enough to make me hard all over again. I’d hoped to wake to find her in bed next to me so I could touch her again, kiss her again. Remembering her reaction to the first time I kissed her last night was enough to make me feel dizzy with lust.
But she was gone, and my next reaction after that realization was fear. Fear that she might have gotten lost or hurt. That someone might have taken advantage of her, although I trust all of my men with my life. Fear that she might have decided to leave my quarters—and me—while she had the chance and go rejoin the other women.
And if she had made that decision, what would I do? I couldn’t force her to come back with me, not without damaging the mate bond. And I don’t want her out of force or fear.
I want her willing, soft and wanting, like last night.
When I caught sight of her with the other women in the mess hall, my first thought was that my fear had come true. She was laughing and smiling, which is something I haven’t seen from her in our interactions. I’ve seen fear, I’ve seen sorrow, I’ve seen her fight. I’ve seen her dissolve in helpless pleasure, but I haven’t seen her laugh.
I want to make her laugh. I want to be the reaso
n she smiles like that.
The women are looking at my men, most with something approaching interest, if not desire, and it gives me hope that perhaps a mate bond will form between some of the others.
But I see Roz looking, too, and a flood of jealousy washes over me. I don’t want her looking at any other male but me. I’m overcome with the desire to stride over to the table, throw her over my shoulder and take her straight back to my quarters, where I’ll make her forget any other male has ever existed or ever will exist, human or alien. To bury myself inside her so deeply that the only name she will remember is mine.
And that’s when I see Sorsir approaching her.
I can tell she’s rebuffing him soundly, but that doesn’t stop the explosive anger and jealousy that floods me. I can’t remember if he saw me take Roz with me to the captain’s quarters, nor have I made it plain to anyone on the ship that she’s mine. I haven’t wanted the other men to know what’s happening, or of my suspicions about the mate bond.
But the sight before me leaves no space for logic in my mind.
Only blank fury.
Before I can stop myself, I’ve crossed the room to where he’s focused on Roz. He’s leaning on the table, and I hate how it brings his face closer to hers. His voice is pitched too low for me to hear his words, but it hardly matters. Nothing would quell my rage.
All restraint leaves me in that second. My hand clamps onto his shoulder as he straightens, anger like I haven’t felt in a long time bubbling up in me until I feel as if I might explode with it.
It’s as if every protective instinct I’ve ever had rises up within me, bolstered by a deep and definitive need to claim this Terran woman. To mark her as mine.
I drag Sorsir backward, throwing him against the nearest wall with a force that momentarily leaves him stunned. I hear the women collectively gasp and see them scramble backward out of the corner of my eye, huddling on the far side of the table. It hardly even registers—all of my focus is on Sorsir, and the nearly berseker-like rage that has consumed me.
