Unleashing the Beast: A Sci-Fi Alien Abduction Romance (Dark Moon Prisoners Book 2)

by Aline Ash

  Tulo turns and walks away from the fallen creature. I watch in horror as it rises and charges. Tulo doesn’t see him coming, and I scream at the top of my lungs, trying to warn him, but he can’t hear me through the sonic shielding. I raise my hands to beat on it but quickly lower them again, remembering the shock it will give me if I touch it.

  My heart is thundering inside me as I watch the big green alien close in on Tulo, whose back is still to him. But at the last possible moment, the burly Tabiean grabs a spear from the rack in the middle of the arena and spins around. The green alien can’t stop, and winds up impaling himself.

  I look closely at Tulo’s face and almost don’t recognize him. There is no emotion in his eyes and his movements are robotic. It is as if he is standing outside himself. As if he’s on autopilot, his movements hardwired into his brain, and he is simply executing an already written program. Seeing it breaks my heart.

  I feel both sickness and pity as I watch the creature die, but I am flooded by a wave of relief at seeing Tulo still standing, alive and unharmed. The warmth I suddenly realize that I feel towards him surprises me simply because it wasn’t something I expected to feel. Not after how contentious our short association has been thus far. It’s strange for me to think that as much as I fear Tulo, I feel relieved that he will be returning to our cell later.

  I wonder over that for a minute. I mean, he’s been nothing but rude, distant, cold, and aloof since the moment we met. Tulo’s been kind of an asshole, truth be told. But at the same time, I have noticed another side of him lately. It’s hard to explain, and I don’t think even I totally understand it, but there have been times, brief though they may be, when he’s let his guard down and I see that icy exterior of his is all part of a front.

  And behind that veneer, I’ve seen a lot of pain and sadness. I’ve seen fear. And I’ve even seen kindness. Though he was trying to hide it, he’s been sort of solicitous and gentle when I’ve come back to our cell after an ass beating. And if I’m being fully honest, Tulo hasn’t been entirely terrible to talk to.

  Sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, he’s shown me that he’s got a pretty good sense of humor. He’s made me laugh out loud more than a few times. It’s not often, but it’s every once in a while, which only reinforces my belief that there is far more than meets the eye where he is concerned.

  He rarely smiles, but when he does his leonine face becomes irresistibly attractive. And it’s not only his handsome face; Tulo is powerfully sexy. He’s rugged and masculine, strong and powerful. And yeah, the triangular ears and leonine features were a little strange at first, but I’ve gotten past that, having been around Kon and the others for as long as I have.

  He’s tall, and his body is corded with thick muscles. He’s all hard angles and planes from head to toe. He’s got high cheekbones most women would kill for, thick eyelashes, and a squared jawline he could probably crack rocks with. I can’t deny that he’s a beautiful man.

  The sonic shield in front of me is lowered with a static hiss. One of the guards pushes me through it and into the pit. I hear them chuckling with each other behind me as I stumble forward. I trip over my own feet and fall to my hands and knees in the sand.

  The crowd that fills the place howls with laughter, and I feel my cheeks burning so fiercely that I fear my face will burst into flames right then and there. I’m hauled roughly to my feet by Omna’s guards and they push me forward again.

  “Walk,” he orders.

  “Good Gargolians,” calls a tall, thin, greasy-looking Gargolian who’s standing on a platform beside a covered box. “Master Wylto D’gresh offers you one final spectacle for the day. A spectacle sure to titillate and thrill you. Behold, the human female called Eva.”

  The applause and cheering grows in volume and intensity, and every step I take fills me with a powerful sense of dread so thick it threatens to steal my breath. Tulo’s eyes are on me, but they’re cold and distant.

  His face is expressionless, and devoid of all emotion as he surveys the wildly cheering crowd. His contempt for them is clearly visible. But as he looks at me, I see a flicker of something in his eyes. I can see some spark of emotion that he’s taking care to hide from the others. The Gargolians give me one final push forward and then walk back the way we came, leaving me standing there with the robot wearing Tulo’s skin.

  I look into the covered box and see Wylto sitting in a large, ornate chair, with Omna by his side in a smaller, less ornate chair. They’re both staring at me, both watching me with matching cruel grins upon their faces. It’s only then that I see the hideous family resemblance between the two.

  “Our dear guests, I would direct your eyes to this creature in the ring beside our champion,” the Gargolian intones. “This is what is called a human from a distant world called Earth. This is an example of a female of their species.”

  I feel the eyes all turn to me, curiosity etched upon the faces of everybody there. They study me. Examine me like I’m some curiosity of nature. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more uncomfortable in all my life.

  “You will have a chance to view this creature up close and personal, if you wish - and can pay,” the Gargolian continues. “But for now, Mr. Wylto invites you to watch this creature get punished for her misdeeds.”

  “What misdeeds?” I shout, shock running through me.

  I share a look with Tulo, and though he maintains his outwardly icy facade, the emotion he feels for me still flickers in his eyes.

  “For the crime of assaulting Omna Wylto, this human will be lashed,” the Gargolian goes on.

  “I did not assault her! And if she said I did, the bitch is lying!”

  “The prisoner will be silent!” the Gargolian shouts.

  I turn and look at Omna and see her looking back at me. A fiendish smile touches her lips and I know she’s orchestrated this whole thing. Just another little episode to punish and degrade me. Since her father has forbidden her to touch me, she’s getting a proxy to do it for her.

  “I have not done anything!” I scream.

  “Be quiet,” Tulo says.

  I turn to find him staring at me. I see something in his face that gives me pause, and I suddenly have the idea that he would never actually hurt me. The tall Gargolian who had been speaking stares at me for a long moment, making sure I’m going to remain silent, then nods when I don’t speak again.

  “Today, you will be treated to a rare gift,” the tall Gargolian intones. “You will bear witness to the taming of this…rarest of creatures. This… human.”

  He spits out the last word like he finds it personally offensive, so I do the only thing I can think of and give him the finger. They all look at my gesture curiously, as if they don’t understand what it means. I sigh, realizing they probably don’t. It’s a human gesture, and one they probably haven’t seen before. But whatever.

  “Be still,” Tulo whispers harshly.

  The tall Gargolian glowers at me imperiously, then shifts his eyes to Tulo.

  “Jin,” the Gargolian intones. “You may proceed.”

  I feel Tulo tense beside me at the use of the name he considers an epithet. I can practically feel the waves of anger rolling off of him. But it’s not anger that’s directed at me. No, judging by the hatred I see etched into his features, he’s currently fantasizing about ripping that Gargolian’s arm off and beating him to death with it. But then he turns to me and his features soften, if only slightly.

  “Do as I say,” he tells me. “It will only be worse for you if you do not.”

  “What are you going to do?

  “Trust me,” he says.

  I pause and take a deep breath. The strange thing is, I do trust him. I shouldn’t. But for some reason, I do. I just sense a core of decency in him. I think underneath it all, he’s good. Honorable.

  Beneath us, a platform in the pit rises, lifting us up. It startles me and I almost fall, but Tulo holds me up. It locks into place, and from within that raised dais, another door sli
des back and a tall rack that almost looks like a gallows emerges. It’s taller than me and constructed of wood. There are four cuffs with shackles; two hanging from the top cross bar for my wrists, and two around the lower beams for my ankles.

  I’m aware of the crowd around the pit. It’s silent. All of their eyes are focused on me, pressed against the walls of the pit, eagerly waiting to watch me be punished for something I did not do.

  “Strip,” Tulo says.

  I look at him. My eyes widen as my mouth falls open and my cheeks start burn. “No,” I say automatically.

  “You must.”

  “I won’t!”

  “You cannot win, Eva,” he whispers. “You must give them what they want, or they will take much more from you.”

  “What is the hold up?” Wylto calls impatiently. “Get on with it”

  “Strip,” Tulo commands again, and I feel my cheeks burn even hotter. I raise my arms and, even though I’m still clothed, cover myself modestly.

  “I said, strip,” Tulo orders. “Remove your clothing.”

  “I won’t,” I hiss.

  The mob boos, and his guests jeer. I hear them calling me a litany of filthy, vile names. And though my face still burns with embarrassment and shame, it also lights up with rage and righteous indignation.

  Wylto finally loses his patience and rises from his seat. I glance at Omna and see her smile widen. She’s enjoying this immensely.

  “Remove your clothes,” Wylto commands, his voice colder than a glacier.

  I stare straight into his eyes and clench my jaw. “No.”

  He moves so fast I don’t even have time to react. A gasp escapes my throat as he jumps into the pit and bounds up the dais. He moves faster and more gracefully than I ever imagined he could. His hand lashes out and he grabs hold of my hair, wrenching my head back painfully, pulling me to him.

  I struggle in his grasp, trying to break free, but his grip on my hair tightens. My hands become claws and I reach for him, desperate to rake them down his face. But Wylto is faster.

  My head is snapped to the side and the sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh fills my ears. My cheek stings and my eyes water. He reaches for me again and I come back to myself again. Dragging my nails down his forearm. Wylto draws in a sharp breath, and his eyes narrow as he glares at me. He lashes out and slaps me again. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye and spills down my cheek, and I feel the fight drain out of me.

  Wylto grips the front of my tunic and pulls it hard. I hear the fabric tearing and then feel the sudden warmth of Tabia’s twin suns raining down upon my exposed skin. I instinctively move my arms up to cover myself but Wylto, still gripping my hair with one hand, wrenches my head painfully backward again.

  “Lower your arms,” he growls. “Now.”

  The crowd around the pit is cheering wildly, and I hear the sound of a dozen different alien voices calling out to me, all of them saying crude, sexual things. Wylto reaches for the waistband of my breeches and I slap his hands away, earning another hard slap across the face. I see a bright flash behind my eyes, and I fall to my knees.

  Wylto hauls me to my feet again, my head spinning. He slaps me again and my mouth is filled with the coppery taste of blood. And then he is pulling at my breeches again. But then Tulo inserts himself between me and Wylto.

  “Enough,” he says.

  “I will decide when it is enough,” Wylto shouts. “She is my property. You are my property. Guards!”

  Two massive Gargolians I hadn’t noticed enter the pit step up and hit Tulo with their shock-sticks. He endures a lot of electricity being pumped into him before his legs finally buckle. He falls to a knee, grimacing as currents of power crackle across his skin. Wylto steps forward, hovering over Tulo menacingly.

  “Don’t forget your place, Jin,” he sneers. “Do not forget what impact your actions might have. We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen because you got a little feisty, now would we?”

  I watch as the fight drains from Tulo. He glares at Wylto but says nothing. The Gargolian crime lord nods, a look of satisfaction on his face. Slowly, Tulo gets to his feet and looks away, unable to meet my eyes.

  “Now,” Wylto says. “Do your job. Punish her.”

  Wylto turns, and his guards escort him back to his box. Omna isn’t even bothering to hide her smile anymore. She is positively beaming at me. God, I hate her. I’d love to punch her in the face. And keep punching her until her face is nothing but pulp.

  “Remove your breeches,” Tulo says.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I cry. “I did not touch Omna.”

  “It matters not. Wylto will have his entertainment. Remove your breeches.”

  I hesitate, not wanting to do this. I cut a glance at Wylto, to find him glowering at me. Even from here, I can see his jaws clenching and unclenching.

  “Do not make him come down here again. It will go badly for you,” Tulo says. “Take off your breeches.”

  Slowly and reluctantly, I do as he says and stand before him stark naked, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Wylto’s guests go bananas, cheering and pounding on the walls of the pit, making a crashing sound like thunder.

  If there’s one thing Gargolians love more than violence and bloodshed, it’s watching forced sex or punishment. They are a terrible, horrible, disgusting species, and personally, I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep if they were wiped out entirely.

  “Give me your hands,” he orders.

  I hesitate, my eyes stinging and my vision shimmering with tears I’m fighting like hell to hold back.

  “Trust me, Eva,” he says softly. “I will try to make this as painless for you as I can.”

  I look up at him and nod, holding my hands out to him. He takes the first and shackles it to the overhead crossbar. He repeats the process with the second, and then follows that up by shackling my ankles. I thrash against my bonds, but they hold me tight. The tears are flowing freely now, and I can’t wipe them away. The humiliation flowing through me feels thicker than molasses on a January morning.

  The crowd’s thunderous applause and cheering haven’t abated one iota since parts of my clothing had first come off. Tulo walks slowly and deliberately around the rack I’m chained to, my hands above my head, and trails his fingertips along my body, sending waves of goosebumps marching along my skin.

  His hand lingers on the small of my back, and it feels as if it’s growing warm. Craning my neck to see him, I see a soft, almost invisible nimbus surrounding his body. He meets my eyes and a small grin flickers across his lips. I shudder despite myself, and it feels like his fingers leave furrows of fire where he touches me. The strange thing is that my body is tingling. A warmth is growing within me, spreading through me. It dulls the fear inside of me, and somehow… arouses me.

  The shame of being so naked and exposed in front of all these creatures, screaming for him to punish me as they call me every vile name in the book, is real. But so, too, is a small sense of excitement that’s buried deep inside of me and seems to be growing with his touch. I try to stuff that down. It’s wrong. It’s inappropriate. And yet, it’s there all the same. I can’t force it to go away.

  My mind is spinning, and I can’t understand how that could be. This man is humiliating me. He’s exposing me. He is going to punish me for something I didn’t even do, simply for the amusement of these evil assholes. Tulo reaches out and picks up a long, flat object with a handle that looks like it was made from leather. He shows it to me, holding it close for me to inspect. The sight of it fills me with a sense of dread, but at the same time, watching him wield it sends a thrill all through my body as well.

  I shake my head and try to clear it. Excitement is the last thing I should be feeling right now, and yet standing here in front of Tulo, knowing he’s going to punish me, I feel a wholly inappropriate slickness between my thighs.

  “This is a rusha,” he says softly. “It is made from the thick, stiff hide of a kyrva. Ready yourself. This is going to hurt.”
r />   “What are you doing?”

  He leans forward, his full lips brushing my ear again, his voice little more than a whisper. “I can smell your arousal.”

  I don’t know what he’s doing or why he’s telling me that, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t find that kind of hot and sexy. I try to banish these insane thoughts and emotions rocketing through my head, but they linger. And when he stands and walks to the back of the stand I’m chained to, I feel my body tighten in anticipation.

  As he draws his arm back, I grit my teeth and brace myself. The first thing I hear is the sharp crack of kyrva hide against my bare ass. It cracks as loud as a gunshot and I immediately wince. A nanosecond later, the sting in my right cheek surges through my entire body. The blood curdling scream that flows from my mouth seems to excite the Gargolians in attendance even more as they somehow grow louder.

  I let out a shrill cry and thrash against my bonds, my ass feeling like it’s on fire. As bad as it stings, my body is also flooded with pleasure at the same time. A moment later, I hear that crack again, then feel that same profound pain start in my left cheek and spread through my body, quickly followed by a rush of ecstasy. It’s confusing—how could I be enjoying such a thing?

  “Bear it,” he whispers huskily to me. “You can bear it.”

  Crack. Crack. I hear the sounds and a split second later I’m seeing red, blinded by pain and confusion, my body awash in agony and ecstasy simultaneously. I thrash even harder against the bonds holding me in place as my body erupts in a pain that runs deeper than the Marianas Trench back on Earth as he smacks me again. But the pain ushers in a wave of rapture every bit as deep, and when he puts his hand on me, his flesh upon mine, I feel that warmth I’m growing to enjoy. And that’s followed by a heightened sense of arousal.