But I’ve read about the hundred years of service each Aurelian must pledge to his Empire – and how they’ll spend a century sleeping on the rocks of pitch-black Scorp caverns, or in cold steel bunks aboard Aurelian Military vessels.
Aurelians enjoy luxury, but they thrive equally without it.
If only I had more clues. Again, my brain races.
I remember my father mentioning friction within the Aurelian Empire. I look up at Brennan, who is practically ignoring me, and I hope that topic is a sore enough point to nudge the alien into talking.
“Are you trying to secure it for your Empire? Is it true you’re on the brink of civil war?”
At that, Brennan’s face turns sharply toward me.
“What did I tell you?” He rises, towering over me. The volume of his voice is a harsh warning – but I feel like I have to keep pressing.
“Please, tell me. I need to know why you’re doing this. You’re scaring me.”
Brennan’s cold, alien eyes soften for a moment.
He turns and lifts one of the duffle bags Otho had brought down on his last trip. Carrying it, Brennan walks towards me, until he’s standing in front of me like a looming mountain.
With me lying in the sleeping bag, and him towering over me, the sheer size of him is even more pronounced. He truly is like one of those Gods the Greeks and Romans carved statues of. He’s magnificent.
Thump!
Brennan drops the duffel bag in front of me with a heavy thud. The bag must weigh a hundred pounds, but he’d carried it like it weighed no more than a feather.
“Clothes for you,” the Aurelian murmurs. “Food, toiletries. Everything you need.” He pauses. “We are not cruel.”
His high cheekbones and chiseled face amplify Brennan’s haughty, cold demeanor, despite his words.
I look up at him, and gulp dryly.
“Not cruel? I’ve heard differently.”
Again, I feel like I’m playing with fire – poking a tiger with a stick – but the alternative is just to accept my captivity – to be the helpless girl the Aurelians and my father think I am.
“How do I know you’re even affiliated with the Aurelian Empire?” I challenge them. “I think you’re Rogue Aurelians. That would explain everything – including why you want those Orb-deposits.”
I nod, watching the glower in Brennan’s eyes.
“That’s it, isn’t it? It makes sense. The Empire would never allow kidnapping, for a start – but you snatched me right out of my own bed.” I narrow my eyes. “Rogue Aurelians. I’ve read about your kind. You treat women like objects – like property.”
Brennan snorts angrily.
“Who says the Empire wouldn’t allow kidnapping? We do what is needed for the Empire – even if they don’t need to know exactly how we did it.”
Then he pauses, and his eyes darken ominously.
“As for why we want those Orb-deposits for the Empire? You know the answer to that yourself – although you might not realize it.” He leans forward menacingly. “There is a storm coming, Natali. You can’t feel it – not the way I can – but it’s there, and it fills you with an unease you can’t even explain.”
I stare up at him with wide eyes. There’s an intensity to Brennan’s gaze which is deeply disquieting – like he’s trying to share information with me that my human mind can’t even comprehend.
Then, just as abruptly, the towering Aurelian snaps:
“Now – be quiet.”
Brennan takes a slow, deep breath in through his nose. I can tell he’s tasting my scent – drinking it like nectar. I shiver.
So does he. As he tastes me, Brennan’s forearms tense, his biceps flexing until they strain the material of his shirt. I know he’s not doing it on purpose – not to show off.
It’s because of me – his raging, ravenous desire for me.
I affect each of these three, proud aliens. They’re each battling their desire to claim me.
Then, it comes to me. This is my weapon against them.
How can I use it to my advantage?
For now, I keep my mouth shut. Speaking after being told explicitly to stay quiet would get me nothing more than a sore bottom – the thought of which leaves me anxious and trembling.
Then, Brennan turns and walks to where he’d been standing earlier, busying himself in a manner that suggests he’s trying to distract himself from the scent of me.
I wriggle forward in my sleeping bag, and then reach out to unzip the duffel bag.
As I root through the contents, I raise my eyes at the selection of clothes. To say they’re skimpy would be an understatement.
It’s like a man who knew nothing about women except how good they looked with their curves hanging out chose the selection of clothes they’d packed for me.
Wait – maybe not. Maybe they just brought these clothes from the same shop they’d found the ball gag – not even thinking that the outfits on offer were chosen for their erotic appeal rather than their practical appeal.
I glance up at Brennan.
He looks so poised, standing there towering over me. You’d imagine from his haughty demeanor that he’s utterly confident – the epitome of masculine competence.
But I know the truth. I’ve already seen how these three Aurelians are making up this kidnapping scheme almost as they go along. I imagine the same is true for their interactions with women.
For all their hundreds of years of life, I wonder if the only women these three gorgeous, towering warriors have ever dealt with have been women from those infamous Aurelian harems.
Back on their home world of Colossus, Aurelians who complete their hundred years of service often start to gather hundreds of willing women to sate their endless sexual desires – and possibly bring to them their fabled Fates Mate.
But those women? They’re there to serve – to pleasure. A slinky, revealing gown might be perfect for lounging by the pool in, or sipping cocktails.
It’s less ideal when you’re a prisoner, in a cold basement in a dark and lifeless corner of the city.
That thought is suddenly interrupted
