Page 62 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

What the fuck is going on with my life?

One second, my transport ship is getting attacked.

The next, I’m being captured and sold at an auction.

Now, I find myself sitting at a dining room table with three huge, Aurelian Warriors staring down at me – and I’ve got no clear idea of their intentions. The only thing I do know is that they’re staring at me as if I’m more appetizing than their dinner.

Finally, Quint turns his slate-grey eyes towards his plate and digs in.

It’s a feral sight – watching him take a big gouge of flesh with his teeth. Blood drips from his lips, dribbling down his chin. The bright scarlet contrasts violently against his marble-white skin.

Lucius grunts and joins his battle-brother – taking his own big forkful of meat. It’s like watching a pride of lions devour an antelope. The way these looming warriors ravage the feast of meat reminds me that their veneer of civility and sophistication is just that; a mask they wear to conceal the ferocious beast within.

Marcel finishes cooking my meat, and brings the last two plates to the table. One has at least five or six pounds of raw, bloody strips piled onto it – and I assume that’s his helping.

The other plate is still heaped with at least two pounds of rare, barely seared meat. Marcel sets the dish down heavily in front of me, and for a second I feel as if I should be offended at his curtness, and the ridiculous offering he’s presented me with.

“I can’t eat all of this!”

But the moment the words leave my lips, I feel ashamed of them.

Look at me! Protesting how I’ve been giventoo muchfood! How ungrateful of me. I should be screaming at them to get me the hell of this Toad mothership–now!Instead, I’m complaining about the catering.

Marcel takes his seat across from me. I feel ridiculous sitting opposite him – my head barely poking over the oversized table, with my legs dangling from the chair made for occupants the size of Aurelian warriors.

As he surveys his food, Marcel murmurs:

“You’re recovering. You should eat to remain healthy.”

I roll my eyes – but nevertheless take a forkful of meat. I don’t mind Marcel’s more serious demeanor now. In fact, I wonder if he was acting so arrogantly before to infuriate the Toads.

I lift the fork to my mouth – and when my tongue touches the red, steaming meat, I know exactly why the Aurelians are digging into it with wild abandon. Whatever creature the meat came from is delicious. It’s probably going to go extinct from mass hunting – because even I’m thinking I could finish the full two pounds of flesh now that I know how good it tastes.

I take another bite, chewing happily. It’s only when I swallow that I realize all three of the towering aliens are now staring at me while I chew.

Their own jaws grind tirelessly, searing the meat with their powerful teeth. As they chew, the eyes of the Aurelians never leave mine. It’s intense. In fact, I’m starting to get pretty fucking tired of always being the center of attention around here!

That doesn’t last long, though. There’s suddenly a click from the door behind me.

“Something smells good!”

It’s Tessa, calling out with enthusiasm as she emerges from the bedroom. Her voice wavers when she speaks – and I can instantly tell that her feigned enthusiasm goes only skin-deep. She’s still clearly shaken up after nearly being destined for a Bullfrog’s aquarium.

I don’t even know how she pretends to be so chipper, considering our situation. Then again, we’ve been through so much shit together – and in such a short space of time – that right now feels like we’re in the eye of the hurricane. You know there’s a storm going on all around you, but when you’re caught in the center of it, there’s the sudden illusion of peace – and you find yourself with a moment to breath, and thankful not to be getting thrown around by the heavy winds for a few blissful seconds.

Marcel barely acknowledges Tessa’s entrance. He swallows a huge bite of meat and then grunts, nodding at my plate.

“There – you can share,” he says, obviously pleased with himself for finding a solution to my complaint about being served too much.

Moments like these really highlight how…alienMarcel truly is.

I mean, of course he’s alien – they’re all aliens. All three of the Aurelians are towering, marble-skinned warriors from a planet in the center of the civilized universe called Colossus.

But it’s easy to forget that mind-boggling reality when you’re with this triad. Lucius, for example, acts like a big, cocky jock to me.

Quint, on the other hand, remains in his own world. Who knows what goes on behind those haunted eyes of his? He barely even speaks – and when he does, it’s as if those few words join just a handful he’s uttered during the entire last decade. His eyes stare at me, but then flicker around the room – constantly searching for a threat even in the safety of their living quarters.

Marcel, though… He’s justawkward. Not in an unattractive way. More like he’s not used to having conversations with humans –realconversations. From the way he looks at me, I’m guessing Marcel hasn’t had to learn how to make a real conversation with a human female, since no doubt he has dozens of them throwing themselves at him on his homeworld, begging to join his harem.

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