Kidnapping. Stolen. Abducted. All more accurate.

“…before youtookme,” I continue, “I’d never doneanything. My whole life has beennothing– nothing except reading books and imagining what life could be like outside the walls I was raised behind.”

The three Aurelians stare at me. I can see they were completely blindsided by my reaction.

I continue:

“I’ve been cooped up since my earliest memories – since even before my father found those Orb-deposits. It’s always been so dangerous on this planet, and my father always feared that…”

Lazar interrupts me with laughter – a dry, sardonic mirth.

“…he always feared a business competitor would kidnap you, right?”

I look down. Then, I surprise myself by laughing, too.

Gods! Here I am, in an abandoned warehouse – held captive by huge, sex-crazed aliens – and yet I can see the irony in my situation.

It’s so strange to speak to the Aurelians like this. It’s not how they’d expected it.I’mnot how they’d expected me. Even after that brutal spanking, there’s something wrong with the dynamic between me and these three Aurelians – just like there’s so much wrong with their kidnapping in general.

Right now, even as my ass burns with the delicious imprint of Otho’s palm, we’re not speaking as captors and captive. We’re talking just like…I don’t know.

I’ve never talked toanyonelike this. I don’t know what to think or do.

None of the lessons my father spent money on for me – in diplomacy, business, and economics – could have prepared me for speaking with three towering aliens.

Aliens who I happen to findincrediblyhandsome – despite having just snatched me from my bedroom.

I take a ragged breath. Now I’m the one who can taste the scent of the Aurelians in the air – the fresh sweat on Brennan’s glistening torso, and the masculine musk of Otho and Lazar.

“Yes,” I nod. “My father kept me locked up for my whole life, fearing somebody might kidnap me...”

I shrug.

“…not without good reason, either.”

Even Brennan’s lip curls at the sound of that.

Standing before the three of them, I suddenly feel very shy. I smooth my skirt down across my legs, wondering just what the hell I’mdoing.

My brain is filled with a hundred questions, but I default to what those finishing school lessons and governesses taught me.

“Why did you pick such a ridiculous outfit for me?” I gesture to the makeshift dress I’d assembled. “Is this what the women in your harems are made to wear?”

Otho jumps up onto the metal workbench – the same one across which he’d spanked me. The metal bench creaks under his weight.

The towering warrior rubs his jaw – the bruised section, where Brennan nearly kicked his head off just minutes earlier. Now, it’s as if they’d never fought.

“Perhaps,” Otho eventually shrugs, “but we wouldn’t know. We don’t have a harem.”

No harem? What kind of Aureliansarethese?

Lazar steps closer to me.

“We might not have a harem, but I’ve seen what women in harems wear – and selected something similar.” His eyebrow lifts. “Is this choice of outfit not what your species prefers?”

I roll my eyes. “Myspeciesisn’t all the same, you know.”

Lazar says nothing. He stares at me, and I realize suddenly that these three Aurelians seem to know as little about human society as I do about theirs; which was mostly gleaned fromOn Aureliansand other tomes of history and science.