When he reaches out, I place the container in his hand and quickly pull another eating utensil from the stack for him to use. He dips his head in what appears to be a gesture of thanks.
As I work my way down the stack, I find something resembling stir fry and pot noodles. We share them, along with two different kinds of fruit. One appears to be mixed nuts and the last two are desserts. Finally, I get to assuage my sweet tooth. Though my captor ended up eating most of the food, I ate more than I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.
When we’re done, I shoot him a happy grin. “Thanks again for the food and the nice company, Tarion of the Hielsrane. I’ll bet if you ever had your own female, she’d the happiest one in the verse.”
Snorting a laugh, he pulls one knee up and rests his arm on it. “Females have been few in my life.”
“Most of your kind have arranged marriages, don’t you?”
“Males my age living on our home world are certainly mated by now. My father attempted such with me several times, but none have worked out.”
“I can’t imagine why.” Naturally, I could well understand why after being threatened, bullied and slapped. Speaking about that doesn’t fit into my ongoing low-grade plan of seducing him, however.
“Drakon females can be arrogant and judgmental.” Turning his face away, he continues, “They did not like the look of me in my fighting form.”
“What does it matter what you look like in full battle dress? Battle armor seems like a strange thing for a woman to object to.”
Turning back to me, his expression appears slightly amused. “I do not believe you would like me in my fighting form either, little human.”
He’s holding back, not that I care one way or another. Unsure why his battle gear would be so off-putting, I shrug. “I don’t care about what people wear. Drakon females are too picky.”
His eyes regard me warmly. “I agree. They are too picky by far. Then again, they can afford to be. There are far more warriors than females on my world. That means they can reject any of us over a perceived flaw. Unfortunately, after one female rejects us, others are all the more reluctant to give us a chance.”
“It’s their loss. One day they’ll wake up and realize what they missed out on.”
“That’s a gratifying thought, but I sincerely doubt they will regret missing out on me.”
“You and I have something in common. No one really misses me either.”
“How can you say such, when the reward for finding you is so large?”
“They’re not paying to get me. Heck, they don’t even know me. The Pax just want to sell me to someone for a huge profit. Whoever buys me won’t care about the real me either. All they’re going to be interested in is my uterus.”
“The part of you that creates young?”
Nodding, I continue, “You’re the only person who’s ever been interested in actually talking to me face-to-face. I’ve been a slave all my life and trust me, no one really cares.”
“The Pax must be as ruthless as they are reputed to be.”
“It’s not just the Pax, though I’ve been owned by them two or three times. I’ve also been owned by the Scargon, Karn and some insectoid race. I don’t know what to call them because they never worked out the translation piece. Everyone calls them insectoids. I know it doesn’t seem all that respectful, but I’m the last person to go around naming new species.”
“If no one could understand them, how did they trade for you?”
“They used some ancient bartering system where they showed pictures and used red chits to represent thousand credit increments. It took forever to negotiate, but the Pax made out in the bargain. To the insectoids, I’m worth ten chits.”
“That’s an outrageous sum, even for one as unique and beautiful as you. Do you know why they didn’t keep you?”
“I would like to say it was because I couldn’t adapt to their ship, but that would be a lie. It was more because they couldn’t adapt to having me around. The ship had at least half a dozen types of insectoids and they all seemed to have their duties already established. They couldn’t seem to deviate from their regular routine long enough to teach me how to do anything. Even when I tried to join in, they swatted me away because I wasn’t doing it their extra special pre-established, and I suspect, ritualistic way.”
“That’s fascinating. I’ve never met an insectoid.”
“You’re not missing out on much. They didn’t appear to have vocal cords. Instead they vibrate their wings to create sounds. It worked out fine for them. They knew exactly what each other said. Me, not so much.”
“I’m glad they put you back into circulation.”
Something about that term fires my anger. “It blows my mind how easily you speak about the suffering of others. When you say things like put back into circulation, you need to understand what that really means. I was snatched up out of bed, bound, and carried through the air by a huge bug that dug his claws into my shoulders. He dropped me back into the slave pits. I suppose you have a nice decontamination system consisting of bots or something like that. The slavers don’t have anything quite that modern. Instead, they have handlers that cut my clothes off and hosed me down with some kind of high-powered cleaning fluid that abraded my skin. They even pried my legs open and hosed down my privates. It was incredibly painful. I had a difficult time walking for several days afterwards.”
Closing my eyes, I feel sick to my stomach. Both for going off on the man I’m supposed to be seducing and at
