Aurelians crave dominance – so any submission by a human female triggers something deep inside of them. Not just the desire to mate – but the need to protect and cherish. They can’t help it. Aurelians are hardwired that way – and I will twist their brutish minds to suit my own ends.
"Sir," I repeat, "you told me that if I was going to be on your ship, I’d have to follow the rules. You told me that any disobedience would be punished exactly as prescribed by the laws of Aurelian Law Enforcement...” I pause, listening to the silence on the other end of the communication. “So, please,” I beg, “let me out of this cell. It's inhumane."
There's a longer pause on the line. I can almost see Daccia’s implacable face.
He's not sure what I’m hoping to gain with this request.
"…being in that cell did not prevent you from disabling our Orb-Drive – or trying to escape twice.” Daccia pauses. “I don't trust you, Allie – and that's why we’re keeping you right where you are."
"Please, sir,” I beg, making my voice sound weak. “It's inhumane."
I know Daccia can see right through my act. I know he doesn't think of me as some fragile little human woman – but as a cunning, dangerous criminal. Yet, I can still manipulate his basest instincts.
When an Aurelian hears a human woman crying in distress, it is as though his species is mandated to come to her protection. I know Daccia can’t deny his urge to protect me – just as I can’t help my dark desires to submit to these three fearsomely sexy warriors. I want them – even though they’re planning to throw me in a cell and let me rot for twenty years. I crave their dominance – despite everything…
Hell, I even wish there was a way for me to get it – without losing everything by doing so.
I hear Daccia steel himself. His voice comes through sounding cold and aloof – but I can tell it’s an act. I can tell he’s trying to keep himself analytical and logical.
"The rules,” he states, “prevent inhumane conduct. You have not been shown such conduct.” I can almost hear the strain in his voice as Daccia growls: “You will be fed, watered, and allowed a short communication each day. We will act in accordance with the letter of the law.”
He pauses – as if expecting me to challenge him.
I’ll give that gorgeous bastard no such satisfaction.
He finally speaks again: “If that is all, I’m ending this call."
Gods, I can almost see more by seeing less. The stony, slate-grey eyes of Aurelians give away nothing, but now I’m not blinded by that imperious stare, I hear so much in his voice that I might not have detected before.
Daccia is trying to act the part of the stern leader – but it is an act.
Like every member of his species, Daccia is in a constant war with himself. Aurelians pride themselves on controlling their emotions and being ‘stronger’ than humans. Yet, at the same time, they fight their raging mating instincts constantly, and are slaves to their protective need to claim and own human females.
It’s almost scary, how easy it is to manipulate these powerful warriors when you understand how they’re hardwired.
I lick my lips. Nervousness and adrenaline build up inside me.
Daccia doesn’t realize it – but he's fallen into my trap. He’s admitted that he’ll administer justice exactly as prescribed in the rules and regulations.
"Sir,” I murmur softly, “I can’t bear solitary confinement. I’ll take the other option.”
There is silence from the other end of the intercom.
Ha! You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?
“I’ll take the other option,” I repeat. “As is prescribed for a prisoner in transport. A different type of punishment.” I pause, wetting my lips before I murmur the words: “Corporal punishment."
Seconds pass.
Corporal punishment by an Aurelian is no joke. It runs the gamut from spanking disobedient harem members, to life-threatening slashes with their brutal whips for deserters and cowards. Their species uses pain to punish both their own ranks in the case of disobeying orders, and humans for flaunting rules. More than that – Aurelians run a tight ship.
Finally, Daccia speaks again:
"You don't know what you're asking. Don't make me do this to you."
His voice is hoarse. Suddenly, it hits me. This man doesn't want to harm me – not if at all possible.
In fact, I wonder if Daccia might not actually want to take me to Colossus. I know he’s struggling with his physical desire for me…
…but maybe there’s more.
And that means: Maybe there's another way. Maybe I can explain to Daccia why I stole the money from the triad of Elites – why I tricked them. Maybe he’ll understand why they were disgraced – and how it was all for an ultimately lost cause.
I feel tears well in my eyes. Thank goodness there’s no video feed – that Daccia and the others can’t see my weakness.
But…
If my sister was still here and alive with me, everything would have been worth it.
I steel myself and take a deep breath. I have no regrets. Blood is blood – and I had to do what I did. There’d been no other way – not unless I’d wanted to take on space-pirates and slavers all on my own.
I pause and take another deep breath.
"I know what I'm asking,” I tell Daccia, “and I know – by the law you’ve promised to uphold – you must grant me this request.” I pause. The lack of response is exactly the response I’d been waiting for. “I’ll be out of solitary confinement within the hour,” I tell Daccia.
The intercom suddenly stops flashing.
Daccia ended the call.
Fuck. My plan wasn’t a subtle one – and it had relied on these Aurelians placing their pride and the rule of law above reason...
…maybe these three are smarter than they look.
They must know what I do – that it’s virtually impossible for an Aurelian
