Page 26 of The Thren's Fated

Lena rolled her eyes and turned back to the closet. Every item had some fatal flaw. Too sheer, too short, too low-cut, and on and on. She grimaced at her choices.

This guy was a real pervert, but did that surprise her?

“How many escorts has he had on the ship?” she asked, flipping through the items once more, hoping to find the least skimpy garment.

“He has had many. Commander Screl is… fond of human females.”

A pang of jealousy stabbed Lena as she imagined all the beautiful women clad in these scanty gowns. The thought of Screl’s tentacles petting over another tingled her skin with flames, and she huffed as she finally selected an outfit, a chiffon navy dress that had at least a few layers of fabric and looked like it would fit her.

How many women had worn it before her? And how many would wear it after he got rid of her?

Emotion clenched her throat, and she swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry.

“Turn around,” she said, motioning with the dress she held in one hand.

“I am not interested in human bodies,” Dronzal replied, her eyes not wavering.

Lena waited a few more moments and groaned. Apparently, all Threns were perverts.

She turned her back and dropped the blanket before she could think twice. Her body tensed, fearing an attack, though logically she knew the Thren wasn’t likely to touch her. She scurried into the dress, hoping it would cover something.

It was form-fitting, her small breasts practically spilling out of the bust. Still, the ruffles counteracted the sheerness of the fabric, and the long, billowy skirt hung loosely from an empire waist, hiding her curvy thighs and butt enough to satisfy her. One could probably see something if they squinted hard enough, but this was as good as it was going to get.

Dronzal was still staring as she turned back around, head cocked to the side. Her tentacles shivered… with fear? Excitement?

As usual, Lena had no clue.

“I will take you to Commander Screl, but you must eat first,” Dronzal said, and a moment later, a door whooshed open and another Thren entered.

This one carried a tray of what Lena assumed was food, setting it on a small table before promptly exiting. Dronzal sat down and beckoned her with a tentacle, forcing her to roll her eyes again. She supposed that her stomach was grumbling quite a bit, and it would be better to confront Screl after eating something.

“It looks like human food,” she said, sitting and eyeing the spread of toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon, her mouth watering.

There was even a steaming pot of what smelled like traxaccino sitting next to a delicate cup.

“Commander Screl knows what humans eat.”

Of course he did. He’d had plenty of women here to feed his perversion, and she was no different. He’d kidnapped her because he wasn’t used to losing, wasn’t used to people saying no to him.

Begrudgingly, she piled food on her plate, eager to get this over with so she could speak with the commander. The sweet, bitter bite of traxaccino invigorated her, driving away the drowsiness and exhaustion.

Dronzal continued to stare, and it was getting old

“Don’t Threns eat?” Lena asked between mouthfuls.

“We do. Though your food is not particularly appetizing to us.”

“Really?” Lena picked up a piece of bacon and waved it near the Thren’s nose. “Doesn’t this smell good to you?”

Dronzal turned away, eyes blinking rapidly.

“No, it does not.”

Were Threns vegetarians? That didn’t make much sense with the sharp fangs, but species often evolved past whatever initial diets they consumed.

Lena ate the rest of her meal in silence, standing up when she was satisfied. Dronzal followed her lead, though stepped around her as if trying to avoid her grasp, hastening to the door and pressing another unseen button. She walked through the opening without waiting, and Lena hustled to catch up. She still wasn’t wearing any shoes, but decided it was best not to complain.

The floor was cold on the soles of her feet, though the air in the hall was warm and humid. The walls were the same as those in the room, shiny metal with no obvious indentations or controls. It wasn’t even clear if there were any other doors until she saw one pop open suddenly as they passed, a surprised Thren stepping out and then right back inside upon seeing her.