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I glare at the arrogant bastard, but I start walking. What else can I do? I’m trapped on an enemy ship – and I’ll cling to any moment I’m not in the brig, in chains, or worse.

As we walk, Aelon puts his hand on the small of my back – a constant reminder of how massive Aurelians are. I feel like a little doll compared to the towering alien commander.

As we head out of the loading bay, another thought fills me with dread. I’ve already experienced the unwanted attentions of that Rogue Aurelian triad – who tried to force me into their harem. What if Captain Aelon has similar intentions?

If he gets me alone – well, there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to stop him from doing whatever he wants with me –tome. I shiver at the thought.

The irony is that Captain Aelon, like all Aurelians, is stunningly attractive. He’s huge, fine-featured, and his body is sculpted like a statue of Adonis. I feel butterflies in my stomach when I’m near him – an intrinsic, instinctual reaction that is both natural, but that I’m also deeply ashamed by.

But if Captain Aelon turns out to be like those Rogue Aurelians, it won’t matter how stunningly handsome he is. His features will be ugly and disgusting if he takes me against my will. I can already imagine that aristocratic face of his contorted in a rictus of stolen pleasure.

If he is like that – a Rogue Aurelian – I’m doomed.

3

Tasha

We stride past dozens of Aurelian warriors as we head to wherever Aelon is taking me. They’re dressed in light military-style outfits that look more functional than the Captain’s, working on maintenance, running patrols, or just moving from one post to the other as they navigate around the ship.

One thing is consistent – each of them stops and stares as I’m escorted past. They stare at me with those ubiquitous, slate-grey eyes – drinking in the sight of me with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. I shudder at the heat of their gaze.

The second thing that quickly becomes clear is that there doesn’t appear to be another human on board – none aside from myself, and the six members of my captured crew.

Given that Aurelians are an all-male species, this presumably means that Sawoot and I are the only females on board, and that doesn’t fill me with confidence. Just two women, surrounded by hundreds of hyper-masculine, over-sexed aliens.

If I wasn’t being escorted through the hallways by the Captain of this vessel, I fear what would happen to me. Some of those stares are a little too hungry for my taste.

I’m desperate to run – but where would I go? There’s no escape. Even attempting to flee would be foolish. Assuming I could get away from the Aurelian Captain – which isn’t likely, given the inhuman reflexes of Aurelians – I’d still be left on a ship manned by dozens or hundreds of his crew. Assuming I could escape them, I can’t leave without my own crew – and that’s assuming I could find a way to leave in the first place.

No – my only hope is to comply with Captain Aelon andpraya better opportunity arises.

We walk for what seems like miles, until Aelon finally stops us in front of a large set of doors. As we approach, they open automatically with ahiss.

My heart skips. We’ve arrived at Aelon’s private chambers.

The room is immense by human standards – especially on a starship, which is supposed to be cramped and close-quartered.

Everything in this huge chamber appears custom made for Aurelians – built to the scale of the huge, muscular aliens. From the big, circular dining table in the middle of the room to the oversized chairs – which would leave my feet dangling above the floor if I sat in one of them – it all made me feel as small and vulnerable as a kid again.

Over the dining table is a holographic projection of the moon I’d used to slingshot the Wayward Scythe away from the Toad assault ships, hovering in orbit next to a projection of the planet Tarrion and the asteroid field I’d hoped to escape into. There’s a blinking light on the far side of the moon; which I assume to indicate the current position of Aelon’s warship.

On the projection of Tarrion, isolated dots are lit up all over the planet. These indicate mining camps, given the locations in mountains and valley ranges. On the projection of the moon, I see indicators representing large contingents of troops – presumably more soldiers working for Captain Aelon, scuttling across the planet’s projected surface like little ants.

My mind races like a computer, taking in all this information and extrapolating what I can from it.

I remember how the loading bay of this immense warship was almost empty – the bays void except for those two functional Reavers and the three others being repaired. This holographic projection explains where the rest of Aelon’s ships and troops must be. Dozens of Reavers have been stationed on the surface of the moon – suggesting there must be something valuable on it that the Aurelian Captain is trying to locate.

I’m so wrapped up in examining the holographic projection that I jump when the door hisses shut behind me.

I spin around – realizing I’m now alone with this Aurelian – in his chambers, no less.

Even worse, there’s no one here to protect me now – no Sawoot to come swooping in the rescue me, like she did from that Rogue Aurelian triad. There’s nothing stopping the seven-feet-tall, 500 pound Captain Aelon from doing whatever he wants to me; whether I want it or not.

Now, I regret not taking a weapon from the sidearms cabinet.

If they’re Rogue, the first to touch me loses his cock.

I remember Sawoot’s words from back when we were first brought into the loading bay. I admire her courage – and I don’t doubt Sawoot would attempt such a thing if the occasion called for it. The only problem for me, though, is that I don’t have anything but my hands to fight Captain Aelon off with, and wrapping my fingers around the alien’s dick and trying to rip it off would probably be closer to a handjob from the towering warrior’s perspective.