Page 30 of The Thren's Fated

“Well, how long do his escorts normally stay?”

Her skin prickled at the word, at the idea of other women in the bed, pleasuring Screl, letting Screl pleasure them.

“Lena, you are not here as the commander’s escort.” Dronzal paused, like she was choosing her words carefully. “The situation is… complicated.”

“Complicated how? Do the people on Henios know I’ve been taken? Do they know about the privateer? There are cameras all over the station.”

Dronzal shifted uncomfortably.

“I cannot answer your questions. I am sorry.”

Lena sighed. Something was going on, but she wasn’t getting anything useful out of this Thren.

Clearly, Screl didn’t make a habit of kidnapping people. His escorts in the past had been willing participants, as far as she knew, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Ochin had something to do with procuring them.

Even though she was just a bartender, surely station management wouldn’t allow Henios residents to be taken like this. So why had she not been rescued yet? Maybe the ship had light traveled? She might have missed the strange weightless sensation as she’d slept. They could be hiding out somewhere. And Screl was a prince. Negotiations would be dicey with royalty involved.

Dronzal’s gentleness was a small comfort, at least compared to the violent ambiguity of Commander Screl, despite her unwillingness to answer questions. Still, Lena was in desperate need of a distraction, something to stop her mind from spiraling.

“Is there anything to do on this ship?”

“There are recreation areas, but we are supposed to wait here for Commander Screl to return.”

“So what do I do until then?”

Dronzal glanced around the room, empty save for the large bed, table, and chairs.

“You could rest if you would like.”

“I don’t need rest!” Lena said, louder than she had meant.

Not after her stress-induced nap and the combination of sleeping pills and tentacle magic knocking her out last night. She was on edge, needing something to take her mind off the visions of bloody hands dancing around her head.

She stomped over to the bed, laying down and staring at the blank ceiling, looking over as she heard Dronzal approach.

“I can provide a console for you to use. It is stocked with human holonovels.”

If a console was all she could get, it was better than nothing.

“Yes, Dronzal, that would be nice.”

Dronzal approached the wall where the closet had been, pressing a tentacle to the smooth metal. She rifled through the contents for a moment before removing a console, similar enough to the one she had back on Henios.

“I shall… wait over here if you need me,” Dronzal said quickly, fleeing and taking a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the room.

Lena just shook her head as she swiped her fingers over the screen, eager to distract herself from the sense of dread permeating the small room.

Alien erotica.

Nothing but alien erotica.

Screl was more perverted than she’d thought, if this was his idea of entertainment. Not that Lena hadn’t read holonovels like this in the past. Of course she had.

But as she flipped through the catalogue, she realized this guy had a very clear fetish.

Taken by the Alien Warlord, Abducted by the Alien King, Kidnapped by the Alien Emperor…

Was he living out his sick fantasy with her?