Page 97 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

I hate hearing the fear in Marcel’s telepathic communications, because if I’d never encountered those three Aurelians, that magnificent warrior wouldn’t even know the meaning of the word. He’s lived his entire life with nothing to lose – but he’s also spent it searching desperately for his one, true, Fated Mate –me.

And while I might have been what he and his battle-brothers had spent a lifetime searching for, the moment they found me, I became their greatest – perhaps only – weakness.

But as long as I can hear the three of them – or, at least, feel their auras deep in my mind – I know I don’t need to feel alone. Their presence gives me strength as I stare up at Lord Oblog.

The disgusting creature sits on his raised throne, sitting tall and proud with the illusion of power straightening his spine. The slick smile of victory glistens on his thick, blubbery lips.

Oblog looks down at me like I’m a tool, not a living creature. No, worse than that – like I’m some fancy new weapon he’s just got his hands on. That’s all I am to him.

I’m realizing now that I was a pawn on his galactic chess board for longer than I could ever have anticipated – and now that I’m Bonded to the three Aurelians, I’ve been reluctantly elevated to queen.

My triad had been ready to break free of Lord Oblog after just one more job – to finally be rid of the disgusting Toad dignitary, and the shame that working for him laid upon their shoulder.

Then, I ruined everything. My presence shackled Quint, Marcel, and Lucius to this disgusting, gelatinous blob as surely as the Bond shackled them to me.

He’s not hurting me,I transmit through the Bond.He’s just… looking at me.

Their discomfort ebbs in response through the Bond. Even Oblog’s eyes on me are more than the three Aurelians can tolerate. They’re in pain, but it’s as if I feel it more than they do – that the countless bruises and deep cuts they’ve received from being trampled and beaten by that onslaught of Bullfrogs means nothing to them.

Before I was snatched from them, I’d seen how deadly the three warriors were. They moved as if they were one – dancing, as much as fighting. Armed with nothing but those shards of splintered wood, they managed to eliminate at least a dozen of the deadly Bullfrogs.

But a dozen deaths amounts for nothing – not compared to the legions of Bullfrogs and the countless Toad stationed here on Lord Oblog’s ship.

I stare up at the disgusting Toad Lord, given strength and confidence by the presence of the three Aurelians in my mind.

I don’t ask what Lord Oblog plans to do with me –tome. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I simply stare forward, at the legs of his raised chair, and I just wish I had my knife.

The disgusting creature speaks:

“Feisty little Jamie.” His gurgled laughter disgusts me. “Who would have thoughtyouwere the answer to all my problems? Those three strong-headed thugs are invaluable to me – and I was struggling tomotivatethem to remain working for me. Now? Thanks to you?”

He rubs his slimy hands together.

“Now, they’remine.”

I gulp dryly, despite the fetid atmosphere of this Toad ship.

Lord Oblog knew it. He knew it all along. Heknewthat Marcel, Quint, and Lucius were being torn apart by the moral quandary of working alongside the Toads. Heknewthey were going to manufacture some exit plan – one that might be executed by the shedding of gallons of Toad and Bullfrog blood. He was desperate for something to keep them where he wanted them – and I just handed him exactly that.

As he sits on that throne, his disgusting smile stretches into a grotesque grin. His whole body jiggles as he exults in the thought ofowningthe three Aurelians – of hanging what we’d done together over our heads, and using it to ensure they do his bidding.

Marcel, Quint, and Lucius have already smuggled Gods-know-what to and from the Aurelian Capital, risking hundreds of years in jail, but now it’s going to be so much worse.

I don’t even want tothinkabout what he’s going to make them do next.

Yet even as I stand there, I can feel the imprint of the three Aurelians on me. I can feel their Bond in my soul, just as I can feel the echoes of their touch on my skin. I appreciate even the rough bruises on my thighs and butt – from where they’d grabbed me so hard as they surrendered to their evolutionary purpose. They’d become one with me – and I’ve doomed them for it.

Nothing can split us apart now – and that’s exactly what Lord Oblog is counting on.

But even as I consider that, a strange calmness overwhelms me. I know Ishouldbe terrified – but I’m not. In fact, I feel less doubt about the three Aurelians than I have ever since meeting them. I know them now – know them as well as I know myself.

I can feel in their auras that these three warriors are men of honor – even as they go against the rules of the very Empire they’ve pledged allegiance to. These are not men who follow arbitrary laws and bow to polite conventions. These are men who fight for what they believe in – at any cost.

Even as I stand there, I feel their commingled seed dripping down my thighs. They’re still inside me – all three of them. The Bondthrumsin my mind, and I imagine what might lay ahead, should we ever be free of this nightmare.

I imagine bearing the Aurelians their children. I know instinctively it hasn’t happened yet – none of them made me pregnant, even as they flooded me with their potent seed. That comes later – if it comes at all.

But, right now, we have survival to think of.

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