Page 27 of The Thren's Fated

Were they all scared of her?

Dronzal led Lena through the maze of corridors, pressing seemingly random spots on the wall to open doors to other hallways when needed. She couldn’t figure out how the Thren did it. Some sort of internal sensor?

Finally, Dronzal paused in front of what appeared to be yet another featureless wall, almond eyes narrowed.

“This is the room,” she said plainly, and Lena huffed.

Dronzal touched the wall at an arbitrary spot, and they waited for a long minute.

Lena jumped slightly when the door finally opened in a whoosh of air, and she was gestured in with a tentacle. She stepped into the room, eyes darting around and taking everything in.

The size of the space surprised her; much larger than the room she had slept in. A massive, silver table sat in the very center with a hologram displayed for all to see. The walls were bare, save for red symbols that circled the entire room close to the ceiling.

There were six Threns seated around the table, all staring at her. She recognized Screl pretty quickly at his place at the head, directly opposite where she stood. A lump knotted her throat, and she swallowed hard, suddenly unsure if she should have been so eager to see him.

Screl stood slowly, making his way around to greet her as her body tensed with anxiety. Was she in danger? Her heart was beating fast, her body electrified as if she were a prey animal being stalked by a predator. He sauntered up to her like a cat playing with a cornered mouse, and she tried to stand her ground despite the anxiety pulsing through her.

“Look at my pretty little pet, all dressed up for me,” he said as he closed in, eyes running across the fabric which barely concealed her form. “I have a treat for you. Something to cheer you up a bit.”

Lena squeezed her hands into fists, resisting the urge to punch him. That would do little good, not with how powerful he was, though perhaps relieving some of her anger would be worth whatever he did to her afterward.

“Taking me back to Henios would cheer me up,” she said instead.

Screl chuckled, entering her space with a final step. Neither of them broke eye contact as he looked down at her, though she couldn’t quite read his glimmering expression.

“Trust me, little human. You will enjoy this.”

Before she could protest again, the door whirred open behind her, and she turned to look, her brain taking a moment to understand what she was seeing. There was another Thren, but in front of him was a human.

A human with his wrists cuffed. A human she recognized.

She whirled back to Screl, who had an evil smile plastered on his face.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked, trying to figure out what was happening.

The man from the bar, the man who’d assaulted her, was brought before them, his eyes ablaze with fury.

“You can’t do this,” he hissed at Screl, barely even looking at her. “I demand to be returned to an Alliance entity, or better yet, my fucking ship.”

Screl completely ignored the man, his focus still on Lena.

“He’s here to receive his punishment. The Alliance can be so slow to enact justice, and I thought you deserved a swift end to this.”

The man finally glanced her way, looking her up and down for a moment too long before concentrating back on Screl.

“Really? I’m here because of some cunt from the bar? I thought this was about⁠—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Screl slapping him so hard his head rocked to the side. The sound echoed in her ears as she looked on in horror, the man turning back and spitting blood from his mouth.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he growled, though she could hear the tremor in his voice.

“I am Prince Rohieth Screl, and it took such an insignificant amount of money to bribe the guards to let me take you, you may be surprised by how little you’re worth to them.”

A shiver of fear trembled down her spine, but for herself or for the man? She wasn’t quite sure. What the hell was Screl planning?

“You… you can’t do this,” the man stuttered, stumbling backward until he bumped into the table.

Screl nodded, and a Thren grabbed him, turning him and pressing his cheek into the chrome surface. Another gripped his restrained wrists, locking them to a ring on the table, before turning and nodding to Screl.