Sold to the Alien Smugglers: A Fated Mates Romance (Captive Mates Book 4)

by Corin Cain

  I visualize getting close enough, and waiting for him to turn his attention away from me for just a second. Then, I imagine thrusting this hard splinter of wood deep into his eye – sinking it deep with a single, powerful thrust.

  If I don’t kill him, more’s the better. I’ll take his eye, and then hold the wooden shard deep into the wound - demanding he release Tessa, the Aurelians, and me. If he doesn’t, I’ll take his sight – and then his miserable life.

  I know it’s a long fucking shot – but it might be the only one I get.

  Oblivious to my deadly scheme, Lord Oblog waddles forward toward me, his long legs testing the ground with each step. I know he could hop across to me with a single bound, but instead he keeps a dignified pace – as dignified as a massively overweight, slimy Toad can be.

  As he lumbers forward, Oblog stares at me with those bulbous, alien eyes. He might be only five-feet in height, but he’s got a significant weight to him; and I’m not just talking about his near thousand-pounds of muscle and fat.

  With the wet snap of his slimy fingers, Lord Oblog could have any man on this ship killed instantly. He’s one of the ten most powerful Toads in the universe – subservient to only the Toad King himself.

  So, what does he want from me?

  Why was I brought here without the Aurelians? Why is this powerful, cunning Toad coming out onto the stage to meet me? All alone, with no bodyguards in sight?

  With each lumbering step Oblog takes towards me, my resolve weakens. He’s got hundreds of pounds of fatty, muscled flesh over me – flesh which covers his obscene, distended body like glistening, gelatinous armor. His only weak spots are his eyes and mouth, and compared to the rest of him, they’re very small targets.

  If I do this, I have to do it right. If I don’t hit Oblog with perfect aim, he’s going to throw me aside as if I’m weightless, and then pin me down on the floor of this stage and crush me with his bulk. I can only imagine the horror of the breath being forced from my lungs beneath that warty body – or the sledgehammer impact of those big, spindly-fingered fists as he pummels the last of the resistance out of me.

  He stops just a couple of feet in front of me – and while he has to look up to meet my gaze, I feel dwarfed by his immense, muscular bulk.

  “Well, well, well,” Lord Oblog gurgles. “If it isn’t Jamie.” He laughs – a sinister, guttural chuckle that’s about as comforting as the sound of a garbage disposal. “There’s a Bullfrog on this ship who’d give a month’s wages to slit your pretty little throat.”

  I shudder.

  He knows about me. He knows my past.

  He knows about the Bullfrog with the scar – and my history with him. That disgusting, sadistic bastard is on this ship, somewhere.

  I meet Lord Oblog’s glistening glare. For a moment, all pretense is abandoned. I speak to him with a tone of voice that would never be tolerated from a real slave.

  “You Toads are all the same.”

  Oblog’s disgusting, flabby lips stretch into an obscene smile. His bulbous eyes stay locked on mine – dead and cold.

  “No, child. That is where you’re wrong.” Oblog’s thick tongue wets his already-dripping lips. “My sweet, young girl – every species has its weak, and its strong. Aurelians have strong bodies, for example, but their minds are weakened by pride and their delusion of justice. Humanity is physically weak, but your kind took to the stars of their own volition. You have your own strength, greater even than that of the Aurelians.” Then, his eyes flash. “My species? We have only one consistent weakness: Greed.”

  Then, Oblog steps closer to me. He’s barely five feet away, now – still too far to use this splinter against him, but so achingly close that it intimidates me.

  His huge, wet tongue paints a glistening trail across his thick, green lips.

  “The answer to weakness is to recognize it. For example, I know my nature, Jamie. I know I’m greedy, so I am mindful not to let it cloud my judgement. For example, I never commit to a plan unless I know the outcome is a certainty.”

  His bulbous eyes narrow into glistening slits.

  “Do you know your nature, Jamie?”

  He’s speaking in the common tongue, and his mastery of it is flawless. He doesn’t even have the lisp and gurgle that makes most Toads speaking Common so difficult to understand.

  Lord Oblog is clearly educated – and I’ve got the creeping suspicion that he’s significantly smarter than me, as well.

  But that won’t matter when I have his eye out. Oblog tells me he has a plan, but everybody’s got a plan until some scrappy girl in a pleasure dress drives eight inches of splintered timber through your eye-socket.

  But I don’t have what he thinks he does – a certain outcome. At best, I’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of getting us all off this ship alive – and certain death, or worse, if I fail.

  Oblog watches me, as if trying to read my mind. As he does so, he continues speaking:

  “Those Aurelians care about you, Jamie – or they will right up until the moment they fuck you. When they find out you’re just like every other woman they’ve ever fucked in their search for their Fated Mate, you’ll be of as much value to them as trash.”

  The sadistic Toad gurgles.

  “But, by then, it will be too late. I’ll have video evidence of them raping a slave – the most egregious crime in Aurelian society. They’ll ever after be forced to do my bidding – or those video files will be transmitted to the Aurelian Law Enforcement agency, and their names will be forever added to the Kill List. Then, that little sanctuary of theirs – the notion that they cling to, that they’re not truly Rogue – will be as nothing.”

  I gulp.

  I see now that Lord Oblog is playing a complex game of chess, and he’s three moves ahead of us. He never intended to let the Aurelians go free. In fact, he manipulated me into begging them to claim me precisely for this reason. Marcel, Lucius, and Quint would never have crossed that line unless I’d pleaded for them to do so.

  But, more than that… I fear Oblog’s words. They hang over my head like a prophecy. It’s no secret that Aurelians spend their lives scouring the universe in search of their Fated Mate – and fuck countless human woman hoping each time that she’ll be the one. The moment they sink their cocks into a female, though, it becomes clear whether she’s that one-in-a-trillion Bonded female, or just a woman who smelt right at the time.

  If Oblog’s right, and the Aurelians stop caring about me the instant they determine I’m not their Fated Mate, who knows what will happen to me. I like to think the three warriors are noble and honorable – that they wouldn’t just abandon Tessa or me…

  …but ever since I first met them, I’ve had questions that have remained unanswered. If they’re working for the Priesthood, and trading with the Toad confederacy, who knows where their true loyalties lie. Who knows if I can trust them?

  Would they have just let Tessa be dragged off by that Bullfrog, if I hadn’t begged for them to spare her?

  If Oblog speaks the truth, then I might be sold off to a Bullfrog the moment this spectacle is over – when the Aurelians find they have no more use for me.

  But even worse – if they do care about me, whether or not I’m their Fated Mate – I’ll then be used as leverage against them, just like that video footage will be. For the rest of their lives, or at least until the end of mine, I’ll be a tool that Lord Oblog can use to manipulate the triad.

  I realize that if I don’t act now, we’ll lose everything.

  Unknowingly, Lord Oblog steps closer to my trap. He’s waddled forward until he stands just four feet in front of me. The odds are shifting in my favor. If I can maintain the element of surprise…

  My muscles tense. I ready myself, steeling my nerves.

  To distract him, I demand: “Why are you telling me this?”

  My voice is barely a rasp, taut from adrenaline. I summon up my courage, readying myself to make that single thrust that could determine my freedom, or my fa
te.

  If I fail, my life ends now.

  Unwittingly, Lord Oblog steps forward again; forcing me to steel myself.

  It’s now or never.

  He opens his lips to speak, gurgling: “I’m telling you this because I…”

  He never finishes that sentence.

  The moment he’s close enough, I leap forward – bringing that sharp shard of wood to bear and thrusting it straight for his right eye. I give everything I have to the thrust – and it powers towards his bulbous, glistening eye like a dagger…

  …and then stops.

  I gasp, as my wrist is caught mid-thrust. Seemingly from nowhere, the ropes hanging from that pole have whipped out and grabbed my arm, as if they’re alive, or sentient.

  The ropes curl around my arms, and then drag me backward – flinging me against the wood and then wrapping around me like steel bands. One squeeze is enough to force the breath from my lungs, and the splinter falls from my suddenly limp fingers. I’m slammed against the wood so hard; I think I hear a rib crack. The wood is solid and unyielding, and the ropes tighten around with inhuman pressure.

  I hang there, stunned – and Lord Oblog laughs at my predicament. His voice is low and heartless. He smiles that cold, evil smile – delighting in my predicament.

  “I told you, my pet, for precisely this reason – because I needed to see your nature. I needed to see if you were a fighter, or a cowering little girl.”

  Lord Oblog presses something on his watch.

  “Now we have our answer!”

  9

  And, as he says that, his words boom out across the stage. I suddenly realize he’s not speaking to me any longer – he’s addressing a crowd, like he did in the Great Hall earlier.

  At the press of that button, the opaque air shield disappears. The ropes tighten, pulling me around to stare out at the audience gathered to witness tonight’s spectacle.

  I’m forced to face the crowd – and what a crowd

  The roar of hundreds of jeering, cheering Toads and Bullfrogs hits me like a tidal wave. The entire ship’s complement must be gathered here right now – more bulbous eyes and glistening bodies than I can count, stretching out across a massive amphitheater.

  And here I am, tied and helpless – fighting against these sentient ropes, which tighten around me and secure me to that wooden pole.

  I realize now that Oblog planned it this way all along. He’d even gone so far as to splinter the wood on the pole, knowing I’d be led past it. He was testing to see whether I had any fight left in me – and to add theatrics to the event.

  I shudder in horror. If I’ve still got fight left in me, it will delight the Toads to torment it out.

  Lord Oblog waddles forward to address the crowd. He stretches his spindly arms wide.

  “I promised you all a show!” Lord Oblog’s voice booms out, amplified to reach the very back of the teeming crowd. The swarming audience of Toads and Bullfrogs jeers and bays eagerly in response. He then repeats his words in the guttural tones of the Toad language – and I realize that this is just more of his scheming at work.

  He speaks first in Common, so I can hear him and react accordingly – and then repeats what he’d said in the Toad language for his fired up audience to hear and jeer at.

  The audience is terrifying, and none of them more so than the front row – where fierce Bullfrogs sit rubbing their slimy hands, huge and powerful. The brutal warriors of Toad society have a front-row seat, and in the center that front row is a raised dais from where the second Toad Lord watches the proceedings; rubbing his own hands in glee.

  Lord Oblog’s empty chair is next to Lord Qavar, and leashed to it is Tessa. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, and it forces me to remember who I’m enduring this for.

  Then, my eyes find a particular Bullfrog staring up at me with resolute hatred in his bulbous eyes. He’s sprawled across two seats in the front row, and there’s no mistaking that ugly scar burned across his chest.

  It’s the Bullfrog who killed Ling – the same Bullfrog I left scarred and vengeful. I’m about to be fucked and humiliated in front of this cheering, jeering crowd – but it’s the eyes of my worst enemy that sting the most. My humiliation and shame will be complete with him to bear witness to it.

  All around me, I now spot cameras trained on me. For those in the back row, my image is being projected across huge screens hanging from the walls of the auditorium. I’ll have to watch myself at ten times the normal scale, as I’m pinned to this post and left terrified and trembling. The sheer fabric of the pleasure dress clings to me obscenely. My whole body is on display to this disgusting crowd, and as I hang there the moist pleasure dress contorts itself to my curves and begins squirming and writhing against my most tender spots.

  “I promised you all a show,” Lord Oblog repeats, “and a show you will get!”

  The Toads and Bullfrogs cheer and laugh as they hear this – yelling, clapping, and salivating at the thought of witnessing three, huge Aurelians ravish a helpless woman. They’re all eager to watch the three, huge warriors crush me beneath them and split me apart with their huge cocks. They’re excited to see the proud, noble warriors of their fiercest rivals turn into mindless, rutting beasts. The hideous, craven Toads feel a natural inferiority to the handsome, proud Aurelian race – and any opportunity to watch that species descend into brutish, feral, dishonorable frenzy is eagerly anticipated.

  Then, the side doors that Oblog waddled through are opened once again and the entire crowd hushes.

  The three Aurelians stride onto the stage, looking towering and magnificent in their crisp, white Togas.

  There’s coiled violence in their steps and murder in their slate-grey gaze. They look like angels, striding into the depths of hell, and surrounded by countless disgusting, slavering beasts.

  I know Lucius and the others would love nothing more than to grab the hilts of their Orb-Blades and dive into the crowd of Toads and Bullfrogs, but right now that would be suicide. Instead, I know their coiled, pent-up aggression will be unleashed in a different way…

  On me.

  10

  The three alien warriors are outnumbered, surrounded, and helpless to the fate of Tessa and myself – yet, as they stand there, they exude dominance and purity in this dank, dark heat.

  They don’t even look like the men I knew – the ones who’d rescued Tessa and treated me with kindness and respect.

  They stride out onto the stage with formality – looking regal, despite what they’re here to do.

  Yet, I can see the concern in their handsome faces. The square jaws of the three Aurelians are clenched tightly with anger. Their bodies are taught – muscles swollen, and the front of their togas, already tenting out. They are beginning to enter the mating frenzy, and the humanity I so trusted within them is fading from their gaze. The huge, slate-grey eyes of the Aurelians now reflect the lights above, hollow and pale – like huge alien moons.

  Soon, there is no humanity left in those eyes – and, most shameful of all, I feel hot surges of electricity spasm in my pussy as my body reacts to their cold, dominant demeanor.

  If I’d ever thought I’d understood what goes on in the minds of these three men, it was because I was a fool.

  The three Aurelians stride towards me. Already, they’re losing themselves to the mating frenzy. As if reacting to the sight of them, the pleasure dress begins to shimmer more tantalizingly against my skin. I’ve been at the mercy of this squirming, teasing gown for so long now, it’s almost like a friend – and I feel as if the dress is trying to ease me into what I must do, and prepare me for the rough mating that lies ahead.

  The final, unexpected emotion I feel is guilt. If it wasn’t for me, these three Aurelians would have cut their way through the hundreds of Toads and Bullfrogs and made their way off the ship. They could have done it, without Tessa or I to nursemaid.

  Instead, I’d told them to do this. I’d begged them to do this!

  Tessa looks acros
s at me, terrified as Lord Oblog descends from the stage to take his place beside her. As he sinks into his throne, he yanks the leash attached to her neck and yanks her closer to him. I look on, powerless to do anything to help my friend.

  To her, we’ve already lost.

  Perhaps that’s not true – but, one way or another, there’s no way any of us will emerge from this without having lost something.

  The Aurelians will lose their pride and honor in this vain attempt to save us.

  What will I lose?

  The looming shadow of Marcel snaps me from my thoughts as he suddenly steps in front of me. I gasp as I feel myself lifted up by the strange, sentient ropes that bind me to the pole – elevating me higher and higher until my eyes can almost meet his.

  Yet, even held this high, I still feel tiny in comparison to the powerful Aurelian. My body trembles beneath his regal gaze. Marcel’s tongue runs across his lips, leaving a glistening trail, and a shiver of pure need runs down my spine as I watch his nostrils flare wide open, and know he’s breathing in the scent of me.

  I’m terrified. I want to beg him to be gentle…

  I want to plead with him to hold back.

  Yet, I know it’s futile. Begging will only coax more desperate, fiery, animal need from him, as Marcel descends fully into the mating frenzy his species is famous for.

  The truth is: Nothing I say or do can prevent this. Nothing as simple or rational as his thoughts can stop Marcel once he’s been overtaken by his species’ overriding, natural instinct: To fuck, and breed, and seed.

  His hand snatches around my throat, so fast I can barely see the movement. I just suddenly feel the pressure of his fingers around my throat, and feel them tighten as he gulps in a huge, ragged breath – filling his lungs with the scent of me. His hand is so huge he can wrap his fingers right around to the back of my neck, and I shudder as I realize he could end me with one squeeze of that huge hand. Instead, Marcel leans forward, and his lips crush down upon mine.

  Marcel devours me like he’s starving – and yet, even then, I sense he’s holding back, just barely. I suddenly realize that this will be the last I see of him as a man. In seconds, the beast will overtake him.