Page 11 of Sawoots Story

I keep my mind as focused as possible, but it’s hard to think about schematics when I’m between the three huge, powerful aliens.

I saw the hunger in Garrick’s eyes. The other two of his triad were staring at me the same way. They forced Kit’s triad to back off with the promise of strength, and now they have me trapped and helpless.

Now I’m isolated from my crew. If it’s going to be me against three hulking aliens, I don’t like my odds. What if they throw me down against a bed and rip my clothes from me?

There’d be no use fighting. I’d be like a helpless kitten against the brutal beasts. A little shudder runs down my spine.

Silence is my answer. The three Aurelians don’t speak. We stop in front of a massive set of steel doors, and one of them scans his keycard. The doors open.

“You will be safe here. I give you my word.” Garrick states plainly, and the tension leaves my body. He’s not planning to do anything.

“Wait. What are your names? I’m Sawoot,” I offer.

“Sawoot…” Garrick tastes my name, saying it slowly. To his right, the Aurelian with boulders for biceps and the Romanesque nose licks his lips. “Tar’ank.”

The pretty-boy with the lean, lithe physique gives me an even look. “Markrin.”

Garrick’s nostrils flare. He breathes in my scent, and a long shudder runs through him. His eyes widen and his lips curl back, showing strong white teeth.

“How can you say I’m going to be safe? Don’t you know what they’re going to do to me? I’d rather die than be locked in a cell for the rest of my life,” I blurt out, the words true but trying to get an emotional reaction from him. I need information.

He opens his mouth to answer but takes in a deep, racking breath instead. Something’s happening to the three men. They’re losing their minds to their primitive, powerful urges.

What if I pushed them over the edge?

The delicious thought wells up from somewhere deep inside me. They’d snap. Those powerful arms would hold me down as they take me one by one, ravaging me with their huge cocks. I’d finally experience what it’s like to be the sole focus of a triad of the warrior species.

Afterwards, they’d lose interest in me, but it would be too late. They would be Rogue, and they’d be branded as worse criminals than me. And if I was their Fated Mate…

They’d do anything to protect me.

“You will be safe,” he growls, and slams his fist against the button to close the doors. The thick steel doors close, and tension leaves me.

I blink. What was I thinking? Was I seriously considering trying to seduce three wild warriors and make them break every oath they hold dear? These three men saved me from Kit and his triad.

Saved me—or saved me for later.

I don’t know yet, and I’m not going to let my guard down around Garrick or his triad. I breathe in, and I realize there’s an absence of a smell I didn’t even notice in the moment, it felt so natural. Where Kit had a rank sweat, Garrick or one of his triad had a light, woody smell to him that tickled my nose.

I crack my knuckles. Aurelians are all the same. Not because they’re aliens, but because they’re men, and men think with their cocks.

That’s how you beat them.

I’ve got my confidence back. I vow to myself that I’m going to make it off this ship alive, and I’m going to take Tasha with me.

Is she okay? What is the Aurelian captain doing to her?

I turn to look at my cell. It’s not bad, as cells go. I’ve been in my share and this one is premium real estate. Hell, it’ll be a lot better than the fate that awaits me if we get turned in to the Aurelian Empire. They don’t exactly treat criminals with a gentle hand.

My quarters look more like a dormitory, with two sets of bunk beds, and a doorway I assume leads to a private bathroom.

I pace it quickly, looking for anything that could be useful in a fight. There’s nothing unless I want to smack Garrick with a pillow.

This cell could easily hold four, and there’s space for another two sets of bunk beds if they have more prisoners. Female prisoners, specifically. It’s not hard to see why Aurelians segregate their prisoners based on sex. Even Garrick, who seems at face value to be honorable, nearly snapped. I know what he was thinking. He was thinking of taking me, of claiming me as his little toy.

I am no man’s toy.

I check the bathroom. It’s spartan, with an automatic dispenser for soap and a tiny shower. I wave my hand. Cold water comes out, but no matter how long I wait, it doesn’t warm up.

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