I suspected their lives would be on the line.
At the top of the stairs, Draw’s apartment took up the majority of the space.
It was surprisingly modern in style, minimalist.
Open windows ran along either side and thick shutters stood perched over the frames, ready to abseil down and lock into place the moment it was required.
“How do you survive on this moon?” I said. “There’s so little to eat, so little to live off.”
“There is always plenty,” Draw said. “It’s just a matter of finding it. This machine is one of the greatest wonders in the solar system. We can drill as deep into the heart of the planet as we wish. And for all its ugliness, there’s a great deal of wealth beneath the moon’s surface.”
I had heard a great deal about the warden who was in charge of the entire prison moon.
But I had never seen him, never come in contact with him.
I supposed that wasn’t much of a surprise.
The apartment was tastefully decorated with long leather couches and a device that looked much like a television but projected holographic images playing in the broad open space before the sofas.
Right now, two aliens fought a deadly fight to the death, and unless I missed my guess, I would have said the aliens were none other than prisoners in Ikmal.
I wondered how many viewers the prison fight had.
If it was a popular show, the viewership could well run into the billions.
The slaves transferred Draw into a hovering armchair.
It made me wonder why he didn’t use that instead of his slave-powered platform.
I glanced back toward the stairs.
I could easily escape if I wanted.
A pair of servants stood on either side of the entrance, heads bowed, eyes facing the floor.
These were beautiful female creatures, nothing like the small but muscular platform carriers.
I empathized with them.
I imagined their situation was much like mine had been in the prison.
Trapped in this world, likely abducted, and forced to work for their alien overlords.
Draw floated over to the front room and came to a stop between the two long couches.
He cheered on the fighters, enjoying the bloody battle.
“Wine!” he yelled.
He whipped out an arm and smacked me across the ass.
“Now,” he said. “How do you intend on making my dreams come true?”
I gulped.
I really hadn’t given it much thought.
But with Egara’s life on the line, I had better think of something fast.
I pictured Egara sitting in that armchair instead of this fact blob of a man.
It was Egara looking back at me, not him.
And looking upon Egara was a pleasure.
I stood between the holographic fighters and switched the projector off and moved through the stations until I came to the music channels.
The music was alien and I couldn’t understand how anyone could find pleasure in listening to it.
Finally, I came to a tune with a slow sensual beat and a deep bass.
I fixed Draw with a look and began to dance.
I ran my hands over my body, the swell of my breasts, and narrow waist.
I kept my eyes on him and as I performed, stripped one item at a time.
Draw’s mouth fell open and drool seeped from the corner of his lips.
And there, protruding from the folds of his flowing robes, his cock.
I was relieved to see it wasn’t big.
As I danced closer, I reached for it, my arm protesting every inch of the way.
Before I could touch it, Draw snapped a hand around my arm and pulled me to his face.
“Nice,” he said. “But not my dream. Do you wish to know what my dreams are?”
No, I didn’t, but I smiled sweetly and nodded.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, his grip on my arm so tight, I thought he might break it.
As his dreams spilled into my ears, I quickly realized that his dreams would soon become my nightmares.
Egara
“You must be pleased to be reunited with your beloved shuttlecraft,” Piggy said.
My escort had been silent or outright demeaning the entire time I’d had the misfortune of stumbling across the hateful little man.
Now, after Agatha had been taken from me, he was all chatty and happy smiles.
I wondered if secretly he didn’t enjoy the role reversal.
As a captain, even of a pirate ship, I outranked him by some margin as a merchant’s lackey, and he knew it.
Right now, he was top dog and he kept a close eye on me as he led me to my shuttlecraft for me to inspect.
I ran my hands over it, taking some comfort in her coolness.
I was touching a part of me that I thought I’d lost all those months ago when I’d been convicted of piracy and sent to the slammer.
I felt a connection to the machine and felt the warm humming in the depth of the vehicle’s soul.
We’d shared many adventures together and it was easy to form connections with things when you were under pressure.
That had always been true.
I was closer to my crew than I was to anyone I had ever met.
Anyone except Agatha.
She completed me in ways I had only ever dreamed about, the kind of fated mate they taught us about in schools, the sort of love every couple experienced at some point in their relationship—even if it was short-lived and never stood the test of time.
I already had that with Agatha and I wondered how long our relationship would remain special after she put her life on the line to save mine.
She gave herself to Draw to save me.
She thought I would fly off the handle and fight the ugly piggy creatures.
She was right.
I was going to do just that.
Now I had possession of the shuttlecraft but didn’t have the girl of my dreams.
She’d left me in the arms of another creature.
Another male creature.
That little word—“male”—made the situation a thousand times worse.
When I ran my hands over the shuttlecraft, I wasn’t running my hands over its smooth surface but Agatha’s perfect skin.
She was naked and in my
