Page 12 of Bonded By Savages

The Aurelians stop. The one carrying me sets me down, and I shudder as my feet touch the swampy waters.

“Make it quick,” snarls the leader. I point to the wooden doors, and the second Aurelian spins and kicks it, his big combat boots slamming against the thin wood of the servants’ quarters. The wood was so thin I could sometimes hear Bullfrogs sniffing the air outside, their stomachs rumbling.

Screams greet us. The bunkbeds are stacked three high. Women are in ragged pajamas, huddling against the back wall. “Come on!” I yell. “We’re escaping!”

Six of them follow. Two hang back, older women who must have spent decades serving this manor. “Grab them,” I plead, and the leader shakes his head.

“No. I cannot guarantee safety for anyone but you, my Mate. If they come, they must keep up.” He speaks in the Common Tongue, his voice deep and rumbling.

My Mate.

I know Fanatics. Parents scare their children with stories of the brute warriors.

If he was an Aurelian Empire warrior, he would treat his mate as a Goddess, a queen to be protected and cherished. I longed for that, as I toiled in the darkness on the space station where I was born, reading through training manuals when others had fallen asleep. I had a purpose. To get enough money to go to Colossus, where I would be safe.

Where I dreamed of finding a noble triad of warriors.

These two are beasts. I’m not just his Mate now. I’m his possession. When I was growing up, we heard stories of what happens if Toad Slavers get you—you’re forced into servitude, or a brothel, or in the worst case, the kitchen, and not as staff.

If Fanatic Aurelians get you…

You’ll survive. But you’ll barely be a human. They’ll reduce you to nothing more than a breeding sow for their endless needs. And Gods help you if you’re Bonded to them.

These two once served the Aurelian Empire. If they have a shred of honor left, they’ll try to save more than me.

“Please,” I beg, but the haughty Aurelian lifts me, throwing me over his shoulder. They stride. They were running before, but now they walk with long, steady steps, letting the eight servants who decided to come follow at a dead run, their legs needing two or three strides to match one of my captors’.

“Slow down!” I yell, but they ignore me.

“It’s going to be close,” says the leader in Aurelian. I learned the tongue in those late nights, knowing one day it would come in handy.

I didn’t think it would be like this.

“Can he keep the nerian open long?”Nerian?That world I don’t know.

“He’s Obsidian. He’ll keep his word.”

Panic rushes up in my throat. Obsidian. The War-God himself. I thought he was no more than a myth. I don’t know whether to scream and warn the servants not to follow—because Toads are bad, but if the rumors are true, their God hungers for human sacrifices.

We burst out of the front doors of the estate and onto the packed earth of the courtyard. The stink of violence fills the air. Flies are circling the corpses of the two Bullfrog guards who were at the gate. I twist my body as much as possible to get a view of where we’re going, but it’s hard to see past his broad, muscled shoulder.

The courtyard erupts in flames as a Toad attack ship buzzes down. It’s bulbous and green, firing out las-cannon fire without precision. The wall of the mansion crumbles, and the fleeing servants scream, rushing closer to us. They’re so slow, malnourished, kept in a near-starved state by the cruel Toad Lord, and the youngest servant, barely twenty years old, stumbles. Joel grabs her arm roughly, forcing her to keep going.

I look up for the brilliant white of Aurelian Reavers, the attack ships of the species, but there’s nothing. The skies are filled with Toad merchant ships leaving and entering the atmosphere, with more Toad fighter ships buzzing towards us.

The Aurelians sprint. We rush past abandoned carts, where poor Toads sell their wares. I see them in the alleys, cowering. A window shuts. No one dares to look at a Fanatic with its blood up.

“We’re ten seconds late, but it’s still open!” yells the leader.

“Please, slow down,” I beg, and the Aurelian turns to see how close the servants are.

When he turns, I see what we’re running towards.

It’s no spaceship to flee in.

It’s something I don’t understand.

There’s somethingwrongin the middle of the street. I should see the road, stretching out. I was brought up this road, shackled, along with other servants a year and a half ago.

---