Page 125 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

Oblog’s eyes narrow as he sits there on his throne – but he realizes he can’t say anything. If he objects, or puts up a fight, then it’ll be too obvious what he had planned for Tessa.

His eyes return to normal a moment later – and if I hadn’t been looking for the tension on his face, I wouldn’t have even seen it. Only my Bond-enhanced senses let me notice it...

…but I did.

Hehad beenplanning on killing her.

Lord Oblog’s treacherous nature cements itself inside my mind.

Hehad beenplanning on killing her – just like he’s planning to kill us, once the Aurelians have completed that final shipment. But that narrowing of his bulbous eyes worries me. The Toad Lord makes mistakes when he’s at his most confident – cocky and foolish in his perceived victory. Now, we’ve built up his suspicion – we’ve tipped our hand.

If he suspects I guessed his plan to execute Tessa…

…he might realize we’re not so stupid after all.

Right now, our relationship with him is on a knife-edge. We need him complacent. Otherwise, it will tip him over the edge and draw his cunning mind back to viewing us as adversaries – not cowed, conquered servants for him to use.

We’re running out of time.

The Bullfrog who escorted us in grunts.

“It’s okay, Tessa,” I tell her. “Go with him.”

Oblog still needs the Aurelians to complete one last shipment. He’s not going to jeopardize that. Tessa will get to walk away from this alive – for now.

But I know the wheels are already turning in the Toad Lord’s brain. I imagine he’s thinking of all the assassins and cutthroats he has the ear of, deep within human territory.

Putting Tessa on the Reaver isn’t going to save her forever – it will only stay her execution.

There’s no safe haven in this universe – not while Lord Oblog still lives.

Perhaps there’s no safe haven after that, either – not in the face of the coming storm – the conflict between those loyal to the Aurelian Empire, and those that seek to return to the Old Ways.

No haven, except Atlantis – that place that the Aurelians showed me images of. A half-built land that beckons to me, far away from the evils of the universe.

But right now? In these circumstances? It feels like pursuing a foolish dream.

As I stand there, Tessa is escorted from the throne room. As the doors hiss shut, only my triad and the Finger remain. There are no Bullfrog guards in the room any more - but Lord Oblog has doubled the number of Sentinels on duty – and this time, they have their weapons raised.

Their weapons are aimed five feet in front of the Aurelians.

Oblog is learning.

He knows the three Aurelians are quicker now – more powerful after Bonding with me. That’s why he ordered the Sentinels to lead us – because anyone foolish enough to dart forward wouldn’t have the edge that allowed Lucius to make it half way up the stairs the last time.

None of the Aurelians would have the chance to weave their bodies, dodging and contorting to avoid the blasts. There’d just be a wall of deadly projectiles turning anything they pass through into meat and bone.

I assess my own situation – wriggling my toes in the cold, clear water of the throne-room. It cleans the scum from my feet, at least.

Oblog gestures at his robotic guards – his bulbous eyes locked with the gaze of the three Aurelians.

“I should caution you – their weapons are no longer set to stun. One move, and you’ll all be killed.”

Oblog states the words slowly. There’s no victorious, mocking tone in his voice, and that worries me.

When he’s mocking us, he doesn’t view us as a threat.

Now, he’s viewing us as a real danger…

---