Page 131 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

I’m bearing the offspring of my triad – one of the oh-so-rare, natural born Aurelians who are the only hope for their dying race. I am fulfilling the destiny of a Fated Mate.

But my destiny isn’t going to mean anything if I can’t get off this ship. Like the half-formed haven of Atlantis, the future of the Aurelian species won’t matter if the Toad Lord kills their future in my womb.

My head now clear, I look up at my Bonded triad.

“He’s going to kill us after this shipment,” I whisper, my voice so low they wouldn’t be able to hear it, if they didn’t share the Bond-enhanced hearing I now possess.

Quint and Lucius stop rubbing me, their huge hands frozen on my body.

If I’d thought they were protective before, now that urge is tripled in intensity – their aurasachingto keep me safe.

Why do you say this?

It’s Marcel’s voice – usually so certain and confident. Now, it just feels cold.

I heard him speaking with the other Toad Lord, I explain.The other Finger. Somehow, I could understand some of their words, even though he was speaking in Toad… That’s why I told them to put Tessa on the Reaver. He was going to kill her on the way to X12.

I telepath back my concerns. There’s no use taking any risks by speaking openly.

Marcel pauses. The alien warrior has lived hundreds of years and faced down twice as many battles – but he takes my warning seriously. The leader of the Aurelians looks down at me with those icy, green eyes – and they sparkle like the grass on a frosty morning.

"Take a shower," Lucius speaks, out loud. At the same time, I feel the cold circle of the smuggled Orb-Knife being slid into my palm. I close my fist around it.

Pulling myself up from the bed, I stagger towards the bathroom. My legs are still shaking.

A shower is one thing, but I need the solitude more than anything else. I can’t blame myself for suddenly needing that comfort – an escape, to stop the walls of this Toad mothership from closing in around me.

The only place I feel safer is when I’m in bed with my triad. Then, nothing else exists.

I shower and the lack of the Bond’s insistentthrummingin my mind tells me everything.

Now, I’m not just linked to these men. Their seed has taken root – but unless we get off this ship, Oblog will rip it from me.

It’s easy to re-insert the cold, otherworldly Orb-Knife into its hiding place. It’s cold in there – malevolent – and it’s everything the cocks of Marcel, Lucius, and Quint aren’t.

Then, I hurriedly dry off – nervous that the hour Lord Oblog rewarded us with is already running out. At least when I return to that throne room, I’ll feel the shadows of my lovers in my body, their touch a whisper on my skin.

But when I emerge, the bedroom is empty. I find the three Aurelians in the living room, instead.

They’re standing there, talking idly about the voyage to Colossus. If I couldn’t feel their auras, everything would look fine – almost as if they were still voluntarily undertaking this shipment for the Toads.

But inside, their auras are taut – stretched to the verge of snapping.

It’s all for show, this idle chit-chat. It’s just in case Oblog has a video feed of this room. I feel sick thinking of such a thing – that he could watch me in my most private moment with these men.

But then, I think about how he’s already forced me to fuck them on stage, in front of a jeering crowd.

But this time, it was different. I touch my belly, thinking of the consequences of what we’d done.

I didn’t want the eyes of Lord Oblog to have witnessed that. I wanted that foul creature as far away from the conception of my son as possible.

“We want to avoid the meteor storm when we plot our course,” Marcel’s voice intones aloud – but then I hear hisothervoice, inside my head.

There is a man who may help us.

He speaks one set of words for show, while he telepaths the true message to me.

What man?I feel like I’m clinging to straws, looking for a shred of hope.

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