Page 2 of Bonded By Savages

I’ve heard of the Aurelian Empire. Everyone has – from humans lying that they could beat one in combat, to women gossiping about joining their harems, or speaking in low, hushed tones of their fabled Mating Rages. The alien species is designed for two things. Fighting…

And finding their Mate to breed her. Only one woman in the universe can sire their sons. That fact can drive some of the Aurelians to madness, going rogue or, Gods forbid, joining the brutal ranks of the Fanatics. Those bastards follow the Old Ways, seeking toclaimwomen as their own.

These three are honorable. I can sense it. Their being washes over me, each one different than the last.

The gnawing in my belly from my insistent hunger disappeared in front of them. The leader was well over seven feet tall, his marble skin gleaming in the light of the sun. Gods—I hadn’t seen the sun in over a year, and now it glowed over his muscled body, his biceps straining against the grey armor of the Aurelian Empire. He had short, cropped black hair, and a nobility to him, patrician’s eyes as he stared at me like I was a priceless piece of art. His aura, his being was protective, possessive, and it surged up with deep, endless lust as he let his eyes graze up and down my body.

To the left of the leader was an alien with the purest marble skin, high cheekbones, and a haughty arrogance to him. His aura was clever and quick, his mind dancing, and I marveled at howrightit felt to have the three men in my mind.

To his right was a huge beast of a man. Even taller, with a broad, wide torso. I couldn’t wrap my arms around him. He was built like a tree trunk, with a barrel chest straining against his reinforced armor. He had a square jaw and hot grey eyes that burned for me, and me alone. His black hair was in a long warrior’s braid, and his eyes widened as he stared at me. I could hear the growl, low in his throat, as he strode towards, needing to claim me. This one was an animal of a man, a beast clinging to his honor by a thread, and I knew that if we were in a room alone together…

He wouldtakemy innocence.

That’s when the fear grabbed me. The knowledge that even the most honorable of the Aurelian species were walking the fine line, their brutal, beastly lusts threatening to overwhelm them at any second. I’d thought of the Aurelians as noble protectors.

Now I could see they want more than to keep me safe…

They want toownme. Take me. Control me.

If they can save me from the cruel Toad, I’d give myself to them a thousand times over.

The three of them raced towards me, their lust growing, and my heart pounded as their need flowed over me…

Then the vision disappeared.

I was back in the Toad’s Hall, the flies buzzing, condensation dripping from the ceilings and wetting the floor, and the wine was overflowing from his gilded goblet. It dripped onto the wooden table and pooled in his golden plate, staining his white fish red.

My hand snapped back, stopping the flow of wine from the silver jug, too late. The Toad Lord Bladdard’s gurgling laugh chilled, and the members of the feast slowly turned their heads toward him.

He made me lick up every drop, in front of the crowd, who laughed raucously as I leaned over the wooden table, slurping up fine red wine. He made me drink from his plate. My head was swimming. I tried to detach myself from reality, willing my body to move while my mind escaped, but the jeers and laughs cut through.

When I was done, he licked his lips, grabbed the silver jug and poured it onto the floor. Toads paused from stuffing themselves to creep in closer, laughing as I was forced to lick wine from the disgusting, slimy ground.

It had been two days since my last ration. I was drunk, barely able to stand straight, when Bladdard ordered his jug of wine refilled. Jola, another servant, with gorgeous black hair despite the humidity and intelligent brown eyes, lowered her head and grabbed the jug, darting off to the kitchen.

That’s when the Toad Lord grabbed my wrist, his warty skin wet against mine. I never realized howstrongToads were until this moment. I prayed I got off light, that this would be the end of my torment. He could have taken my hand for the offense.

His eyes were milky, yellowy green, and his tongue rolled out, running over my wrist and slurping up the last drop of spilled wine. I stood, petrified, trying desperately not to move as the room seemed to spin around me. “You spill one more drop, I’m taking your tongue and eating it for a snack,” he promised, his eyes lighting up with cruelty.

His four Bullfrog guards laughed deep behind him, their big bellies swelling up against their armor.

Those four are even more terrifying than Bladdard. They don’t move much, standing silently behind him, towering buildings of men who stare out at the banquet tables, watching his guests. They’re near ten feet tall. Where Bladdard is fat and bones, the Bullfrogs are beasts, with huge, bulging muscles protected by thick, green skin covered in huge warts. Their faces are round like dinner plates, with awful, enormous mouths that can near dislocate as they open them to yell or eat. Row after row of dull, yellowed teeth fill their mouths.

The last servant who broke a vase as she dusted was fed to them.

I cried two weeks in my dorm bed, before one of the older servants handed me a clean sock, telling me to stuff it in my mouth before we got in trouble for the noise. The late woman was the only servant I made friends with—and now I can’t remember the lines of her smile, the way her eyes seemed to gleam.

I learned my lesson. I didn’t make any more friends.

I’ve been here a year and some months now. The twenty-five years of life before I was captured by slavers might as well never have existed.

All that time spent in the hallways by the pitch-black workers’ quarter, staying up late to read through charts, manuals and scanning reports under the blinking, florescent light, sneaking in silently a few hours before my shift started to catch a little sleep, gone. All that time studying holographic images of asteroids to be able to tell which ones might be filled with valuable minerals requiring a scan and which could be discarded.

All that time working away, saving up pennies to buy what education I could, all the worry as I prepared for my interview with one of the only reputable mining companies in the sector. That moment of joy when I got the job as a junior beam-operator on the mining ship Tartar 23.

They told us we were mining an asteroid field in Wild Space. Growing up on a space station far out of the protection of the Aurelian Empire or the Human Federated planets, I was used to knowing every day we could be attacked, but the space station’s big guns and armored plating deterred outlaws. My friends told me not to go—that Rogue Aurelians and worst, Fanatics, were getting bolder and bolder in their search for their Fated Mate, picking off even transport ships on routes that used to be considered safe. They told me of the increase in Scorp, of how the batteries of the space station rang out more times in the last month than they did in the previous year, cutting down Org-Ships before they could latch onto our armored plating and burrow into our station to wreak havoc.

Tartar Mining walked me through the specs of their twenty-third mining ship, telling us we had enough beams and armor that no one would bother attacking us. They told me they hadn’t lost a ship in two years, and the one before that had a malfunctioning engine, and all on board survived when they sent out an SOS signal that their team picked up.

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