Page 67 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

Orr grunts. “We protected the roads from Scorp. We didn’t know. It could have been a triad of Aurelian Empire Aurelians, hiding in wait.”

“If we tell her, she’ll be driven mad with worry.” I lick my lips, unused to this discomfort. We always faced problems head on.

“She wanted to know about us, even if it hurts. She’d want the truth,” says Ra’al, leaning back in his throne. “Humans are not meant to scuttle underground like Scorp. She’s unhappy down there, unless we’re by her side.”

Orr slams his hand against the black throne. “So you want to bring her up here? Where women go missing and weapons that should be ours are turned against us?”

“The truth is, we’ll find Lola and bring her back safe. That is the truth. Her knowing cannot help in any way. It can only give needless suffering.” I try to reason with them, the green, sickly guilt building in me. We never had any regrets. We did what was needed. This feels wrong, but there’s no choice. When we left her in the pleasure room, there was a strange hurt to her. I can take a bullet to my chest, a blade cutting me, but not that. I can’t let her be underground, cold and alone, terrified for her younger friend.

“Tonight we have the auction to oversee. Tomorrow we must prepare troops for battle. She will be alone much for the next week,” states Ra’al, shaking his head.

“Her friend, Kat. Where is she?” I ask.

“We’ll find out. Tonight we can bring her down to our Mate. We can spare at least the time it takes to escort her down, at least,” Ra’al decides.

“Good. That one was sharp, good with a rifle, and trustworthy. If she was working for the Aurelian Empire, she had plenty of chances to hurt us already. We can trust her,” says Orr.

The matter is done. “Send in the next,” bellows Ra’al, and the soldiers open the door to the long line of people we must here.

Matters of state, when I’d rather be in bed, holding my Mate to my chest.

24

Rachel

Boredom is a strange emotion. It was one I had in my daily life for near ten years, one I never thought I’d experience again.

I relish it.

The Scorp attack frayed my nerves. Each second felt like eternity, yet the entire thing passed by in a flash. It’s nice to be doing nothing. It’s nice to not have to worry about life or death, or the scuttling claws of the Scorp creeping down the hallways.

“Got you!” brags Raneeda, grinning as she double jumps a slice of carrot over Nash’s finely sliced piece of radish. Raneeda reaches onto the make-shift board, grabs the two captured pieces of radish, and promptly chews it in victory, swallowing her opponents without mercy.

We made a checker board on the table, drawing it in with sugar that Raneeda keeps scuffing with her jumps, to the suffering sighs of Nash. We started with salt, but Raneeda couldn’t resist dipping the captured pieces before chomping them down.

Nash moves her radish with great care, kinging it, and Raneeda’s exuberance turns to despair as she realizes her mistake too late. Her aggression cost her the game.

There’s a heavy rumble. We all start. The blissful boredom clears. In its place, the familiar tension.

The triad is back.

“Wait here for me,” I say, not wanting to interrupt the game, and smooth my light green pleasure dress I changed into. It tingles to life, as if it can sense the triad returning, and the fine material moves in waves up my thigh, as if Kriz is running his fingers over my body.

Nash quickly cleans up the pieces.

“That’s a tie game then,” says Raneeda quickly, and Nash gives her a long, disapproving look, making her snap to attention. Raneeda helps to clean up, chomping down pieces hungrily.

I keep my chin up. My body is on display, but I’ve grown used to it, unashamed in how I look in a pleasure dress. I walk to the entrance hall, ready to greet the triad.

To my shock, it’s Kat standing in the entrance room. The tunnel is closing up behind her, and though I can feel my triad near, they left without saying hi. Kat stands, hand on her hip, cheeky grin on her face. She’s changed into grease-stained jeans and a shirt that might have once been light grey but is now blackened by soot.

I run to hug her. She steps back, dodging me. “No way I get that pleasure dress of yours dirty and earn you another spanking,” she teases, her grin growing wider.

“Shut up,” I say, and corner her, giving her a hug anyways. She tries to dodge, but I capture her, squeezing her tight.

“Careful, careful,” she gasps. “When the hell did you get so strong?”

I blink in surprise. I thought I hugged her normally. “I…oh. It must be the Bond?”

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