Page 22 of The Thren's Fated

Lena screamed again—though the sound was muffled—scratching at his shirt and trying to scramble away. In a flash of tentacles, her arms were restrained above her head, her entire body contained in just a few seconds.

“I quite enjoy you like this, all tied up and helpless,” he said, letting out a hissing laugh as her eyes widened. “But only for me.”

With a monstrous grin, he hauled her off the bed, wrapping his arms and tentacles around her and dragging her to the door. Panic tensed her entire body as she attempted to hold her ground, but he pulled her along as if she weighed nothing.

The corridor was empty at this late hour, and Lena found her voice, letting out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed off the chrome walls. Terror rattled her bones as Screl silenced her with a tentacle, wrapping it tightly across her mouth and making it difficult to breathe.

Lena looked at Screl, her eyes wide with desperation and panic. Struggling was pointless—his tentacles and arms ensnaring her with ease—so she stopped the muted screaming, trembling in his grasp.

“Stay quiet,” he hissed, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

Hot tears rolled down Lena’s face, and she tried to stop herself from wailing, pressing a hand to her mouth to muffle the whimpers threatening to come out. Her stomach roiled, and she felt like she was going to be sick. A tentacle brushed back and forth along her legs as the others held her firmly in place.

At some point, they went through a dark entryway, and she realized they were on a ship. The air was different, less filtered than on the space station, and a subtle musk replaced the familiar metallic smell. Humid warmth enveloped her.

After another minute, they entered a room, and Screl placed her on her feet. Lena quaked violently, her legs threatening to give out at any moment. She tried to gasp in a breath, but it was as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

Screl’s steady arms led her to a chair, and she slumped onto it, grateful to be off her feet. He knelt down in front of her, crouching low so his four eyes gleamed directly across from hers.

She needed to focus on breathing, one in and one out. Over and over.

He’s going to kill you. He’s going to fuck you and then kill you for daring to defy him.

Lena trembled, fear mingling with the adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins as she looked into his serpentine eyes. She couldn’t stop her body from shaking, an uncontrollable shiver making her bones quake despite the warmth in the room.

What was he waiting for? If he was going to force her, why didn’t he just get it over with?

“Lena…” Screl said, and she jumped, frightened by his voice.

“Why didn’t you just leave me alone?”

He didn’t answer, just twirled a tentacle around her neck, the suckers attaching to her skin and a sense of calm engulfing her. As the seconds ticked by, her breathing softened, slowly returning to normal. Relief flooded her body, like a warm blanket draping her in its comforting embrace. Her vision was fuzzy, and she finally shut her eyes, wondering what she had even been worried about in the first place.

It was all a bad dream, and she needed to go back to sleep. She was home, in her bed on the station.

The station.

Her bed on the station.

The station…

Lena’s eyes shot open, her adrenaline pumping once again.

“What are you injecting me with?” she gasped, struggling against Screl’s tentacled grasp.

“I am not injecting you with anything. Merely giving you a muscle relaxer through dermal contact. It will help reduce your anxiety.”

Screl continued to observe her as she unsuccessfully fought against his strength. He was acting like this was no big deal, like he hadn’t just invaded the privacy of her quarters and abducted her from Henios. He reached out to brush her face, and Lena let out a chilling scream.

In an instant, he shifted his grip, his hand tightening around her throat instead.

“Stop yelling,” he growled, his tentacles wrapping tighter around her arms.

Screl didn’t squeeze, but the threat was clear in his voice.

“Let me go!” she said, and he slid a tentacle over her mouth, cutting off her pleas.

No matter how much she tried to squirm, it was useless. She was useless. Screl could do whatever he wanted to her, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.