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I shudder, and I’m not sure if it’s from fear or arousal – or both.

But I can only delay the inevitable for so long.

Taking a deep breath, I unzip the flap of the tent and step out into the basement…

…and promptly I stop in my tracks.

Brennan, Otho, and Lazar are all standing there,watchingme.

I’m a tiny, human girl – facing three looming, intimidating alien warriors.

All three of them. Lazar is back from wherever he’d spent the night before – wearing that light armor the three of them visited my father in.

I realize he’s just come off watch – the last of the three to do so during the night. That’s why he’s still in his armor, with that obscenely huge rifle still slung across his back.

Next to him, Otho is wearing a black t-shirt – tight enough to shows off every chiseled angle of his powerful physique.

Brennan remains still shirtless, and I feel a lump in my throat as I stand there and drink in the sight of his alabaster skin, and those perfectly-defined muscles. The way his abs pop in the morning sunlight – the shadows emphasizing each peak and valley of taut muscle – simply isn’t fair.

I gulp.

All three of them are gathered here now – and without any of them saying a word, I know what it means.

As if reading my mind, three sets of eyes stare at me with equal and utter certainty of purpose.

These three powerful warriors knowexactlywhat they’re planning to do to me.

Suddenly, I feel very small – smaller, even, than I did before in the shadow of these three towering aliens.

This shrinking feeling? It’s the same one I’d experienced when I’d first readOn Aureliansand seen pictures of their species – only this feeling is magnified unbearably.

The sheer size of them is mind-boggling – something you simply can’t appreciate from drawings alone. They’re like giants –Gods.

Likewise, there’s something celestial about the grey emptiness of their slate-colored eyes – fixating on me with an intensity that’s utterly nerve-wracking.

Brennan steps forward, towering over me like the century-old trees in my father’s gardens.

“You tried to escape last night,” the leader of the Aurelians murmurs. “I warned you that escape attempts would be punished.”

Brennan’s voice is flat. It’s almosttoomonotonous. Even though Aurelians pride themselves on hiding their emotions – part of the reason they have a reputation for arrogance – I’ve been taught from a young age how to read people. Or, more specifically, how to seethroughpeople.

Even though they stand like statues – even though their eyes are as blank and lifeless as carved marble – the Aurelians are actually no exception to this talent of mine. In the barely a day I’ve known them, I’ve learned to notice all the subtlest signals of emotion from these towering warriors.

Right now – as they stand before me, seeming as large as looming mountains – I feel like I can read them better than I can read myself.

Too monotonous.

My brain processes this observation. It means Brennan’s trying to hold something back. He’s trying to sound dispassionate – the way a law court judge might try to, as he passes a sentence of death and tries to convey that no emotion is clouding his decision.

But beneath Brennan’s thin veneer of control is a raw, burning, animal heat. I canfeelit – bubbling like lava beneath the surface whenever he looks at me.

That animal heat speaks to something deep inside of me, too. There’s a primal, instinctual part ofmethat craves these three Aurelians the same way they clearly desire me.

This is a very dangerous situation to be in. These Aurelians seem barely able to control themselves… but the same can be said for me. Which of us will snap first? Could it beme?

I shiver.

Would Ibegfor them to do what I’m simultaneously terrified of?