Page 10 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

“I…I can’t.”

She turns, her eyes steely. “Aim. Now!”

I go to the next window over, the shutters open. I used to stand here and stare at the sunrise, enjoying the fiery sun painting the farmlands red. Brianna would be fast asleep, and I’d wake up early before doing my duties, enjoying the silence. I would yearn for freedom, imagining all the things I could do when my contract was done. Opening the shutters in the morning was my moment of bliss. It was when I felt free.

Now I’m putting my rifle against the stone windowsill I used to gaze out of, balancing it and aiming.

There is a truck roaring down the dirt road, sending up plumes of exhaust and dirt behind it. It gets air as it flies up over the crest of the rolling hilltops. There are many roads leading out in each direction to different estates of noble families, all empty, but they’re on a course straight for us.

Turn away, please, please turn away.

“It’s going to kick like a bitch. Lead them.”

The truck seems to move faster as it gets nearer. I aim my weapon in front of it. I want to shut my eyes and fire blindly, but I force them open.

“Fire.” I pull the trigger. The rifle thumps back into my chest, but I braced. The crack fills my ears, and I see a speck of dust in front of the truck. Screams come from the raised garden, where the bravest of the other servants are gathered, to look over the walls. “Stop! They’re going to save us!” yells a high-pitched voice, one of the other women covering her face at the violence.

“Again.” Kat’s voice cuts through the noise. I fire again. Miss. “Again!” I pull the trigger over and over, until the windshield cracks, and the truck careens to the side, flipping into the ditch.

Guilt fills me. I didn’t stop to think. “Kat, what if they were just running from the city?”

Her eyes narrow. “It doesn’t matter. Anyone coming for us, we shoot. There’s no law anymore. None except for this one.” She slaps the top of her rifle, sights in, and fires. One of the men pulls himself from the wreckage of the pick-up truck.

He’s got a wicked knife in his hand. It drops, then he falls, as Kat finishes him off. “That knife isn’t for running. They were going to hold it to your throat, Rachel, while they used you like a toy.”

I want to throw up. Another truck is racing up the hills towards us, but when it sees the smoking wreckage, it turns away…

Towards another mansion.

We didn’t stop anything. We just made them choose weaker targets. “Do you really think no one’s coming for us?”

Kat doesn’t answer. Instead, she aims her gun, firing shot after shot into the wreckage, adjusting her rifle to the distance.

Long seconds pass. She doesn’t take her eyes off the sight as she speaks. “We’re too far from the Human Alliance. They’ll be focused on protecting their borders… and we don’t pay the Aurelian Empire for protection. Best they’ll do is firebomb this planet from space or send troops down to clean up if they decide there’s enough value. If Aurelians are coming…they’re men like those raiders. Only they won’t be scared off by rifles.”

“Who?” I say, breathless, but I know the answer.

Her lips curls back. She doesn’t answer at first, firing again and again, until the rifle clicks, empty. She pulls the clip out and loads the armor-piercing rounds. She balances the rifle against the wall, waiting.

Shots ring out from the second tower, where the lord of the manor used to live. Summer’s at the window sill. The gun recoils as she shoots, but she’s determined, holding it down, sighting it, and firing again. The dull thumps ringing out are the only thing between us and the horrors of the world.

Finally, Kat turns to me to answer.

“Fanatics. The legions of the War-God. If they come, they’ll kill the Scorp alright. But they won’t do it for free. They take a price. Women.”

I’d seen a triad of Aurelians once. The space station I grew up on was far from the Aurelian Empire. These were no honor-bound soldiers.

They were predators.

I was lugging a box of tools in the cargo bay to bring to the repair station I worked twelve-hour shifts at when the Aurelian Reaver, the lightest attack ship of the species, entered through the air-field.

I was transfixed. Reg, my boss, screamed at me when I came back late, but I was still in a daze from seeing them. I barely registered his yells, still seeing the triad in my mind’s eye.

Huge. Over seven foot tall, and wide. They stepped out of the Reaver and onto the cold metal floor of the station like they owned it. All eyes turned to them. Their skin was inhuman, with a stony tint to it that made them look like they were carved straight from marble.

The leader—I don’t know how I knew he was the leader, but I just knew—his eyes slowly rolled over the masses of workers and they landed on me. His slate-grey eyes pierced me. They owned me.

His nostrils flared. He breathed in, and the other two huge warriors of his triad fixed their eyes on me, their gaze trapping me until someone bumped into me, freeing me from their spell.

---