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Can you blame them? By the standards of the Old Earth philosophers, perhaps theyareGods. After all, Aurelians live thousands of years – compared to humans, that truly is God-like. Or, at least, demigod-like.

I’ve devoured everything I could read on Aurelians, so I’ve learned of their haughty arrogance – how they look down on humanity as if we’re children, desperately needing to be saved and protected.

In the old days, that protection was in the form of slavery – but times have changed since then. For all their arrogance, and haughty demeanor, and callous indifference – that honor remains. For that reason, it’s not easy to blindly hate Aurelians, like we humans hate the vicious, mindless Scorp or the greedy, scheming Toads.

Aurelians have the capacity to be honorable and just – it’s certainly part of their culture. Their Empire is filled with Aurelian warriors who would die to protect the humans they’d vowed to keep safe.

But just like not all of the Old Gods were benevolent, neither are all Aurelians creatures of honor. While most are haughty, but noble, others practice the Old Ways – of taking slaves, and owning human women like property…

…of capturing their Fated Mated through force.

Honorable or not - all Aurelians share the same drive. The all-male species has one overriding obsession. Each triad aches to find the one human woman in all the universe capable of bearing their sons.

Due to the vagaries of nature – a perhaps inbuilt design flaw, destined to contain the spread of the God-like species – there is no way for an Aurelian to reproduce naturally without the one, singular genetically compatible human female – their triad’s Fated Mate.

Without their Fated Mate, Aurelians can’t reproduce naturally – and, as a result, the species has been slowly dying out for millennia. Their inexhaustible sexual desires are the only drive that can be tempered by the urge to find their Fated Mate.

A frisson runs down my spine as I imagine what that one human woman must feel like, if she ever encounters her chosen triad.

Imagine it – to be adored. Worshiped. To be the center of attention of three huge, powerful men, and to feel that dark link between alien and human. It’s a link that would extend her life to match that of her alien mates – and to allow her to bear their sons.

The Bond.

On Aureliansmade mention of the Bond, but details were scant. When I tried to find further information about this weird reproductive aberration, it was hard to come by. It was almost as if scholars and the learned were deliberately trying to conceal the information.

But rather than the implications of the Bond, I’m more focused on the practicalities of it.

How could one woman handle all three Aurelians?

I feel a hot flush as I think less and less theoretically. Now, all I can think about is the idea of the three huge, towering Aurelians standing in my courtyard – and what they have the potential to do with a human female...

A human female likeme.

I shiver. Surely no human woman could handle the pent-up anger and aggression of three dominant aliens – all focused at the same time.

It would be enough to make me run. Perhaps that’s why, in millennia past, the Aurelians sought out slaves the way Toads and corrupt humans do today.

“The Old Ways,” I whisper to myself, narrowing my eyes as I keep my vision trained on the three Aurelian strangers.

Down below, my father’s Sentinels march the three of them forward. The Aurelians comply, and I am in awe at how cool they remain, despite being surrounded by murderous robots who’ve stripped them of their weapons and armor.

My father supposedly invited these Aurelians to his estate. I guess the line between guest and prisoner is a thin one here on Marn.

I continue to peer at these unconventional Aurelians. Are they loyal to the Empire? Or are they Rogue? I shudder at the thought.

Do these three Aurelians believe in the Old Ways? In slavery?

I just hope my father has the sense to keep the Sentinels trained on them.

With every step the Aurelians take towards the manor, my heart beats a little faster. I wish they looked remotely nervous – I certainly would. It unnerves me that the three towering warriors don’t seem to be anxious about the Sentinels surrounding them – their arm-guns pointed straight at their chests, and those featureless faces studying the Aurelians implacably.

As they approach the doorway, I pull back from the window, letting the curtain fall closed. The door thuds closed downstairs, and – just like that – the three Aurelian warriors are actuallyinsidemy home.

I can almostfeelthem downstairs. There’s a weight to their presence that sharpens the fine edge of anxiety we’ve all been feeling – ever since my father first learned we were going to make our fortune from the Orb-Material deposits he’d discovered.

A quick surge of worry grips me. I’ve always been anxious – can you blame me? But this time, I rush to my door – my footsteps light – and I double-check that it’s locked.

It is.