Page 2 of The Bride Contract (Princes of Xaavia #1)

2

Chapter 2 - Niska

Yix’s little buggy hands shook as he input the information into the machine he’s holding. He’s just been trying to give me all the information I’d need to survive this thing I’d volunteered for as he got me ready to be served up on a silver platter to Star Pleasures Club’s patrons. He’d combed my hair and picked out an outfit that covered more than most, and was in the middle of reeling off a list of all the different species I should stay away from, when Mama Z’rykby slid slowly into the velvet-draped room, dragging her huge, slug-like body behind her.

Yix had clammed up straight away, his usual ease replaced by nervous twitching.

“ Husband ,” Z’rykby says, her voice cloying and… wet-sounding .

“Y-yes, my love?”

“Why is this one dressed so modestly?” She slithers over to me and grabs my face in her slimy hands, turning me this way and that to get a good look. “She is a pretty one, with good, breeding meat on her,” she says, pinching my waist, making me yelp in surprise. Mama Z’rykby grins and pinches my cheek this time. “Do not fret, child. We will find you a good owner who will see to your every need.”

“ At a pleasure club ?”

The incredulous words had tripped out of my mouth before I could do anything about them. From the corner of my eye I could see Yix stare at me like I’d lost my damn mind.

Maybe I had.

Z’rykby’s smile faded and instead of pinching my cheek, she gave it a not-so-light tap instead. “Yes. Many a male pass through this station, and many a male is looking for a female to take care of.” Try as I may, I bristle internally at that. I do not need someone to take care of me. I never have, and I never will. And, I know she’s not referring to the ‘run her a bath and massage her shoulders’ kind of taking care of, too. “Come, my husband will make you look more appealing, and at the very least, you will please Master Joolyx’s patrons after yesterday’s… infraction .”

I wince at the not-so veiled threat and nod my head. Z’rykby lifts her wobbly chin at me, and I know what it is she wants me to say.

“Yes, Mama,” I tell her, plastering the biggest, fakest smile on my face. “You are so good to all of us. I am so grateful for this opportunity to represent you.”

The large, slug-lady looks genuinely pleased by my sickening words. She gazes at me like I’m one of her actual children who just made her oh-so proud. “Come,” she says again, shaking herself out of her happy stupor. She grabs my wrist and holds my arm out. “Husband, stamp the girl and then get her into something that shows off that golden brown human skin. Males love that your species come in such an array of colors.”

“Yes, my love,” Yix agrees as I ignore the way Z’rykby had been talking about humans like we were different colored coats that these alien dudes could try on to see which shade suits them best - like our skin tones are nothing more than a cute palette of colors to choose from to make sure their servants match their home decor. Yix scurries over to us with his little machine in hand, giving me a look like he can read my mind, and is reminding me not to speak it. He had been planning on printing the wrong information on my skin, so as to cause confusion with anyone who wanted to buy me tonight. But, after the quick heat of the laser skin printer leaves my inner forearm, I see that all the correct information is right there; my identifying number, where to buy me, and how much I cost to be loaned out, or bought outright. All for everyone to see in neon green ink that seems to glow.

I glance at Yix, and he gives me a sorrowful look. He obviously couldn’t risk the lies that would save me with Z’rykby being in the room.

She pats my cheek again. “I have a feeling you are going to be very good advertising for the business.” When her hand slips under my jaw, she grips me tightly. “Are you not?”

The threat in her hold and her words are not lost on me. “Y-yes, Mama,” I say, swallowing thickly. “I will make the males happy.”

* * *

Believe it or not, Star Pleasures Club is a few floors below Mama Z’rykby’s Trading House. Here on Moon’s Rest Station, the higher you go, the more affluent and respectable the establishments get - you start going lower, and things start looking like the last days of Rome. You might be surprised to learn that slave trading is good enough for a mid-tier level on this space station, so God knows what you could buy at the lowest levels. I’ve heard rumors that there’s slave traders down there, too. And that Mama’s twisted view of being ‘ethical’ would seem like a tea party in comparison to what’s going on down there.

Yix brings me to the door of Star Pleasures and somehow manages to look apologetic as we get there - which is a feat for someone with the face of a bug, mandibles and all. He gives me one last look up and down and lets out a frustrated little click. Z’rykby had insisted on me wearing a deep burgundy number, a two-piece outfit that hardly covered my breasts and left flowing fabric that drops from my waist to the floor, but only over my crotch and ass. The ensemble leaves my legs bare right up to the waistband. There are no panties either, so if anyone gets handsy…

Say what you want about Z’rykby, she knows how to sell a bed-slave.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

Yix’s mandibles open like he wants to give me one last piece of advice.

But they close again, and he lets out a trilling noise, not unlike a cat.

“Better me than Jaya,” I tell him, needing to hear the words myself, too.

He nods and sighs. Me and the girls are pretty convinced he knows that Jaya isn’t under-aged, but he’s happily going along with it. Out of all of Z’rykby’s husbands, Yix is the only one who seems to get attached to us humans or shows any sort of kindness. “I will be back to escort you home at-” he stops and looks at his novelty Halloween watch and then arranges two of his buggy arms up in the air at different angles, indicating 5 o’clock. He doesn’t know the numbers, but he likes the different configurations of the clock-face skeleton arms.

5am. That’s seven hours away.

“This the female doin’ a shift from Z’rykby?” a coarse voice calls out from one of the giant security guards. He comes closer, dressed in all black tactical gear and holding a huge blaster in his hand. Oh God, why would he need that? I look up to his stern face to see his purple, bumpy skin and the rhino-like horn protruding from the top of his nose. Ceraphrixii, I think to myself, trying to recall what Yix had told me about that species. I’m pretty sure they aren’t the human-eating kind.

I take a deep breath and step forward. “Yes. That’s me. I’m here to work tonight.”