3. Too Good To Be True

3 TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE

I sleep near the hearth that night, curled up in the warmth of stones that I suspect never lose their heat. I am given a sack for bedding and an actual pillow complete with lumps. It's pure luxury, and with my belly full, and my brain and body exhausted from a very long day, it does not take me long to drift off.

I am woken in the middle of the night by two voices arguing with one another. They're trying to be quiet, but they're only succeeding in being the kind of loud that immediately gets people's attentions.

"We should take her to Wrath," Vendis mutters to Vulcan.

They seem to think they are out of earshot, or that I am too deeply asleep to hear them. They're wrong, obviously. I am used to skulking about and being ignored and overhearing all sorts of things. It's not spying like Lettie used to do. It's more just being beneath notice.

"Adaine would never allow that, and she'd never survive it. She's a weak little thing. She has no strength physically, or mentally," Vulcan says.

Hearing my temperament and physical form described in those ways feels accurate and yet still insulting. I am so sick of being pathetic and weak, and nothing more than a servant. I wish I could be brave, but it's not that easy. Captain Sullivan is the bravest person I ever met and even she has been held captive on this planet. And Raine? Her second-in-command who then became captain? She was so brave too. And she's as captive as Sullivan. So what hope do I have?

I sit up.

Fuck it. This all appears to be inevitable. Let's just get it over.

"Take me to Wrath," I say. "Just fucking do it. Every idiot on this planet and above it seems to think that's a good idea."

Vulcan looks at me with a guilty expression in his gleaming, vertical slitted eyes. I can tell he doesn't like this plan as much as Vendis does, but the fact that he's here at all means he's probably going to go along with it.

"You were nice enough to feed me and give me something to wear, why not sell me off to a criminal now? Seems fair."

"I don't like this at all," Vulcan says. "Adaine wants her under our protection."

"Adaine's been bossing us around for too long. We said we were going to be free of her rules. This is how we do it. We strike up an alliance with Wrath."

Oh. I see what's happening. Men are ruining everything. Makes sense.

At this point, I decide to see if I can sneak away. They're arguing with one another, and if I can get to Adaine, I can tell her what her shitty little brothers are up to. She might be grateful to me for that. It might save me from being fucked and forced to lay an egg.

I sidle slowly away, hoping to make a dash for it, but saurians sense movement keenly and next thing I know, Vendis has snatched me up by my leg and is holding me aloft, like a prize fish.

"Don't waste time talking to the human. It doesn't matter what she says. Wrath will want her. And he'll want her fresh. You know what he did when the others brought him one they'd already used."

I am swung back and forth upside down in a way that makes me very dizzy.

"Don't hold her like that!" Vulcan growls. "We have to be careful with them, remember? They're weak. They break easy. Their limbs can come off if you're not careful. Or their heads. And they don't go back on. And they don't regenerate."

I am snatched from the first pair of hands by a second pair of hands and swung up into strong arms before being shoved head-first into a big sacking bag for transport. I don't make any sounds of complaint, because I know better than to complain.

I could scream, but they'd probably beat the hell out of me if I did that, and I don't want to know what a fracture feels like. I've seen the crew of the Mare come back from various crimes with injuries that look nasty, and I know that human women break easily under inexpert alien handling. Sometimes it's not even intentional. They hurt us without realizing it.

Oh well.

It was nice to know what comfort was for a little bit, even if it was just to have it ripped away from me again.

Snugly inside my rough cloth prison, I am bundled through what feels like an endless series of halls and passages. I hear the occasional conversation as the brothers talk their way into a criminal organization. Every now and then, the neck of the sack is opened and some vicious alien looks in at me to ensure I am the thing they said I am.

I get to overhear a lot of things. Some of them don't make sense because there's no context, but others do. Vulcan isn't used to being down here, but everybody seems to know Vendis already. Interesting.

Finally, the bumping and swinging and general journeying stops. Vendis speaks. This time, he does so with a tremor in his voice

"Wrath. We have done what others could not do. We have found one of the female humans and brought her to you, just as you commanded."

"That's fortunate for you, Vendis, given the state of your debt." I hear a voice that I don't think belongs to Wrath. Why? I can't say. A gut feeling, I guess. It's just a little too refined, a little too snarky.

"Show me."

Okay, that's Wrath. That voice has to be his. There's more authority in it than I have ever heard in my life.

I am tipped out of the sack, poured onto a packed dirt floor like a bushel of potatoes brought to market. I come out in a tangle of limbs, taking several seconds to right myself enough to crouch on my hands and knees.

This is Wrath.

He is a very tall, very broad, silvery gray saurian with piercing green eyes, and a very large horn emerging from the center of his forehead. There is a bony flare at the back of his skull that goes down to his shoulders, protecting the back of his neck. He is built like a tank, so much larger and more imposing than any of the saurians I have met so far.

"That is indeed a human," he says.

There is a charisma about him that I cannot ignore. He has a certain energy about him that makes me feel even smaller than I am, even weaker than I am, and even more helpless before him. When he speaks, his voice sounds like the earth itself is moving about. HIs voice is deep, resonant, and gravelly. Tectonic. That's the word.

This can't possibly be the saurian I was supposed to act as bait for. He could have anybody he wanted, of any gender, and any species. There is a ruthlessness to him that is very appealing, and frightening at the same time.

He moves and I feel my interior quiver. Wrath is the absolute antithesis of me. He is my polar antonym. He is massive and strong and charismatic and effective, and people respect and fear him. I am the opposite of all those things, and I know he is going to be disappointed when he sees me.

Wrath looks me up and down as I huddle inside the robes Vendis gave me. This is the last little scrap of safety I have. I am so glad I am not standing here half-naked. I can barely contain the trembling of my limbs as it is.

"So. This is the human female I have been hearing so many rumors about. The one who does exist, and then does not, and then mysteriously does again. The one who was in the park, the lake, the metal shop…" He recounts my previous locations in a gruff tone.

"I get around," I admit. "I mean, not like that. I don't get around in the… that sense. But I have been around the city, well, mostly the pond…"

"Enough babbling, girl."

I am cut off by another saurian. He's the one who spoke first, needling Vendis about his debt. This one has incredible black scales and wings to match. His eyes are golden and he looks like a dragon, though I'm sure that's not what he is. He is very tall, and his tail is very long. He looks like a villain, in the most traditional sense. I sense waves of pure malevolence seeping from him. Notably, I have never heard of him. That's strange. Lettie and the others talked about all the known figures in the saurian world. They definitely never mentioned this guy.

"Who are you?" I ask the question bluntly and artlessly.

Dragon eyes narrow at me. "You dare ask me who I am?"

"Sorry?"

"You are being interrogated," the tall, evil alien says. "You will answer the questions you are asked, and you will not ask questions."

"Okay."

"You weren't asked a question!"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Again, not a question!"

"Easy, Zin. She is too scared to follow orders. Look at her. Plump little thing with big, frightened eyes."

That is Wrath's assessment of me. Plump. He doesn't seem to mind that. There's no disgust in his voice as he utters the archaic word. He seems pleased by it, if anything. I feel my face flush and I avoid his brilliant green glare.

I am still feeling very tremulous in his presence. He has a certain aura, an energy that fills the space. He's not as aggressive as I expected him to be. He's not being mean at all. The other one, Zin, he is the one providing the menace. His golden eyes have not left me since I entered, and in spite of Wrath's insistence that he leave me alone, I get the sense that he might not.

"I didn't come here to start trouble. Really. I'll tell you everything."

Wrath looks me over with an expression that is not just lascivious but calculating.

"Where did you come from?"

He knows where I came from, of course. So this has to be a test. I answer as honestly as I can, not knowing how to be diplomatic about it.

"The same ship as everyone else who is a human and is stuck down here being taken prisoner on this planet because we keep coming down here because we're very stupid and think we can solve our problems by repeating them."

Zin snorts with laughter. He seems to enjoy my withering appraisal of our decisions so far. I'm not trying to talk badly about us, but I am being honest. Mostly because I don't know what else I could say to explain why we keep trying the same insane plan over and over again. Lettie sent me down here as bait, but we've all been bait, and we've all been taken. That's the thing about being humans. We knew it was dumb, and we did it anyway.

W rath

I have seen quite a number of humans taken prisoner so far. Usually they resist capture in one way or another. Sometimes they are self-possessed and haughty, almost too cool for the ordeal they are experiencing. Other times they are obviously afraid but prepared to fight for what they imagine to be their honor.

This very pretty, very curvy, very relaxed female seems largely disinterested in her predicament, and eager for my approval rather than offended by the fact she has been captured. I do not quite understand her, and that makes me curious.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask the question. Usually such an inquiry would make the recipient bristle with outrage, or act as though they were being needled in some way. The human before me simply takes it in her stride.

"A lot of things," she says. "What are you referring to, specifically?"

"I don't want attitude from you, human."

"That's good, because you're not getting any."

She looks at me with those simple blue eyes, and I find myself wondering if she is very brave, or immensely disconnected from her own situation.

"Why are you dressed that way?"

"I got robes from Vulcan," I say.

"Under the robes," I prompt. "Take them off."

"Take my clothes off?"

She has to be playing stupid, I think. Either that, or she is so flustered she cannot think straight. It is possible. Again, most of the humans we have encountered so far have been sassy, smart, and brave to the point of recklessness. But not all of them can be that way, and it is possible that the ship is running out of good women to send. This may be the bottom of their barrel.

I feel pity for the girl as she fumbles with the robes, then reveals what I caught a glimpse of earlier. She is barely clad at all. Her soft human curves are being barely held in place by tight striations of elastic fabric that strain to contain her. It is a sight that causes every eye in the place to be drawn to her with a fascination that I am sure none of us can resist.

She is hot.

Literally.

There is warmth emerging from her skin with an intensity that I can feel. Internally, I am finding myself reacting to her body in a more powerful way than I have experienced with human females before. I generally leave the breaking and breeding of these creatures to my favored generals.

Zin is here because the human female is supposed to be for him. But even I did not like the way his tone changed when he spoke to her. She is a soft little thing, and she would be easily broken.

I am not usually given to acts of charity or mercy, and the notion of being attracted to weakness is sickening. But this human is vulnerable, and she appears to be quite impressed by me.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I know this is silly. Obscene, really."

"Then why are you wearing it?"

"I was forced to wear it."

That gets my attention. I have never heard of one of these human females forcing one another to wear certain clothing, especially not clothing this revealing. Most of the time we have to strip them of thick suits that are absolutely replete with tools to enable self-defense and survival. This woman has been sent down to the planet without anything to defend her at all. She could have died of exposure quite easily in that attire.

"Why were you forced to wear it?"

"I was left down here as bait."

"Bait for who?"

She looks at me quite seriously, pausing for a little moment as if she is trying to decide whether or not to tell me the truth. I wait, almost as interested in whether or not she decides to lie as what the reason is.

"You."

I let out a laugh of surprise. "And now that I have you, is something supposed to happen?"

"Yes, we're supposed to both be transported up to the ship, but that won't happen because I threw my transponder away."

"And why did you do that?"

"Because I didn't want to be part of the stupid plan, even though it seems to be working exactly as it was planned. So maybe it wasn't actually as stupid as I thought. Oops." She gives a little cavalier shrug.

She seems simple, but I don't trust anybody who seems this guileless. Sometimes, the smartest and most able agents are the ones who seem to know nothing at all.

"Am I to understand that there's trouble up on the human ship?"

"There's trouble everywhere. You're trying to be the Grave City alpha, and the Grave City alpha is trying to root you out. And…"

"Are you really going to let this human speak so insolently?" Zin interrupts her.

I find her little diatribe very enlightening, but I can see how it is coming across as disrespectful to the others. Most of the time these humans are all sass and no information. This one seems to be sass-free. She might even be obedient, though she admits she countered the wishes of her captain. So perhaps she is not so simple after all.

"I think a private audience is in order," I say. "Follow me, human. What is your name?"

"Allie," she says.

"Come with me, Allie."

A llie

I can't believe I am following Wrath's orders and going after him. I snug the coat back over my body as tight as I can and hustle after him, avoiding the gazes, and in some cases, glares of the other saurians. Not everybody seems to like me.

But Wrath does.

Or he's at least patient enough to not show temper the way the others do.

"I'm sorry," I say as he leads me into what must be his personal underground lair.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I should be sorry."

He chuckles lightly. "You're quite an interesting specimen, Allie. I have handled several of your crew, and none of them have been as polite or as obliging as you."

"I don't have any fight in me. I'm not a pirate. I'm a cleaner."

"I've known plenty of devious and important cleaners in my time," he says. "In my line of work, you soon learn never to underestimate service staff."

In private, he is a softer massive beast. I watch him move around the room with a surprising amount of agility given his size. He is huge, and his facial features are both blunt and vicious. Saurians have eyes like lizards and scaled skin, but they also have mouths and noses and the humanoid type facial structure that allows them to emote. Most of them look a little like walking, talking lizards, but this guy, this guy is built different. He is made wilder. He has a big flare from the back of his head which covers his neck and part of his shoulders, and he has a horn that emerges from his forehead and sits just above a prominent brow ridge.

He looks like a brute, and he acts like a brute, according to his reputation.

He settles into a chair, a big wood carved thing that must be reinforced to take his weight. If I had to guess how much he weighs, I'd say four hundred, maybe even five hundred pounds. He's huge. His musculature ripples with even the smallest of movements. He is shirtless, and he is…

"I fell in the lake," I say, suddenly, as his intense looking at me starts to make me feel incredibly nervous. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what he is going to do with me.

"Did you," he says.

"Yes. But some young males pulled me out. They didn't know what I was, and they were going to…. Well, I don't know. They had sticks. But then Madame Adaine caught them. They were her apprentices…"

I see his face shift expression as I say the name Madame Adaine.

"So you have been with Adaine, not just caught by her sons."

"Not for long. She wanted me to stay with her, because I'd be safe there, but I guess someone changed their mind."

"So Adaine doesn't know you were taken, and now you are here, and now she is going to be looking for you," he muses. "Fucking Vendis. Can't kill him because he's her idiot little brother."

"I don't know. I don't know if she'll notice, or care. A lot of people don't notice or care when I'm missing."

"You have managed to cause quite a political whirl-storm with your arrival," he says. He raises his voice. "ZIN!"

The door opens.

"Is it time? Can I have the human?"

The second of those questions is terrifying. Can he have me? I do not want him to have me.

"Not yet," Wrath says. "We're going to need to deal with Adaine."

Not yet? What the hell does not yet mean?

Zin groans. "Adaine? What does she have to do with this?"

"She found the human first."

"She has no use for a human."

"That's not the point. We've taken something she had. We don't want a repeat of the Red Door incident. Go see her. Offer her something in trade. We are fighting a hard enough battle with Thorn. We do not need to start another front in this war."

"Very well. I will see what I can do."

Zin leaves, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't want to be in his presence, and I definitely don't want him to ‘have' me.

"As for you," Wrath says. "You are my possession now."

"I don't want to lay an egg," I say quickly.

Wrath chuckles.

"Some of you have value as breeding stock. Others of you appear to make for good hostages. You, Allie, appear to be an amusement. Take those robes off."

"I'd like to keep them on, please."

"Take them off," he says.

I narrow my eyes. It has been made apparent to me that these saurians do not often take no for an answer. I have not often given no as an answer either, but my patience is starting to wear thin. Even as a professional doormat, there is a limit.

"No."

His brow shifts with surprise.

"No, human?"

"No, Allie," I say. "I have had a very unpleasant time lately, and I would like it if that stopped."

"If you want to have a nice time, do as you are told and take the robes off. They belong to Adaine, and she will want them returned."

Fine. Sure. Why let me have dignity when you can offer some filthy scraps of fabric to the female everybody seems to be absolutely terrified of.

I take them off and throw them down on the floor, wrapping my arms around myself. He can't take my arms off me, though he probably would if he could. I hate what I am wearing underneath. It is filthy and it is gross, and it was gross and filthy to begin with, but now it is even more so.

"Want my arms too? Want my legs?"

I start crying. I am too stressed, too sad, and too scared to hold it back anymore. I am not brave, and this day has forced me to be too brave.

There is a grunt from Wrath. I hear him approach, though I cannot see him properly because my eyes are full of water. I don't often cry. I haven't cried in years. I didn't think I was capable of it anymore. But I have been able to hide away for years now. Ever since Captain Sullivan took me on board, I have been able to live in a relatively safe little bubble. Whenever there was fighting, I was tucked away, hidden while the crew fought for me in proxy, I suppose. I never felt unsafe before. I never felt exposed. Since Lettie dropped me on this world, I have felt nothing but unsafe.

He picks me up, and I feel his saurian skin against my all-too exposed flesh. He feels warm and rough at the same time. There is texture in every part of him. Compared to Wrath, I am very soft and very smooth. I feel like a little meatball.

"You are emotional," he says. "There is no need for you to fear me."

"Everybody fears you. The whole world fears you. Of course I should fear you!"

There's a soft chuckle. "I am dangerous to my enemies. You are not my enemy. You will never be my enemy. You are something precious that has been found in my territory and surrendered to me because you are my due, and my possession. Do not worry. I take very good care of that which I own."

His words probably shouldn't be comforting, but they are. Not just his words either, but the feeling of being held in his arms. He is treating me like one might treat any scared little animal, and I am responding to it just as a frightened creature would.

"I am going to take every scrap of clothing off you, because you are filthy," he says. "Your hair is caked in mud, presumably from the lake. You have scratches on your flesh that need to be treated. You are a mess, my human. I will clean you up."

I risk looking up at him. "You're not going to get someone else to do it because you have better things to do?"

"What better thing would I have to do than look after you?"

He truly is dangerous. I always thought it was his violent brutality that you had to watch out for. But Wrath's true weapon is his charm. He just met me, and already he has discovered what I most need — what I crave. I want to be taken care of. I want to let him look after me.

I know I should resist him. He is not a friend, or an ally. He is not a true protector. He is the enemy of my people. But his hug is so warm, and his body is so strong. He is the embodiment of comfort, even though he is also the cause of my fear. It is perverted that he should be both.

I've lived a long time. Well, long for me. Long as I have ever lived, really. And what I'm starting to realize is that there's really no such thing as a good person of any species. The closer you get to someone, the more you realize that they're fucked up, and that they'll probably fuck you up in some way.

The crew used to talk about healthy relationships, but I have never seen one. I've seen people who looked happy sometimes, but admitted they were miserable other times. I've seen people who didn't even look happy who said they were happy. And then I've seen people who outright said they weren't even a little happy but were in the relationship anyway.

I liked that Captain Sullivan banned relationships on the Mare. No boys allowed. Made things easier. Of course, some of the crew were in relationships with each other, but that was different, because reasons. That's how Captain Sullivan explained it to me right back at the beginning when I first asked, and I accepted that reasoning because Sullivan always had a way of making whatever she said sound very reasonable.

When I was on her ship I didn't have to think about men, or mating, or anything. Being on the Mare kept me safe for years. Now I am in the arms of a virile male with a reputation for taking what he wants, and I have the feeling I am going to be taken whether I like it or not.

"Put me down, please." I don't even want him to put me down. I just want to have said it so I don't have to feel like I'm completely weak by giving into him.

He ignores me, just as I suspected he would. I'm a thing to him, something to claim. I've been a thing before, so I know how to be one. All I have to do is sit back and let things happen. It's easy. It's a lot easier than fighting, that's for sure.

He takes me into a chamber where a hot pool in the floor steams gently and indeed, invitingly. There's something cozy about this subterranean world of his, lit by recessed lights that must be tucked away behind rocky outcroppings. He's quite literally the underworld and the underground all wrapped up into one large, dangerous package.

"The springs here contain minerals and a heat that is quite invigorating. Taking that filthy, unworthy scrap of material from your body and immersing yourself in the water would be a good idea, don't you think?"

He puts me down as he makes the suggestion. He must sense my resistance. What he doesn't know is how far I have to be pushed in order to so much as ask to be treated like a person. He also has no idea how rare it is for anybody to respect me the way he has. He's put me down like I asked. Not right away, but he's done it. And he's made the water a choice.

Lettie, my crewmate, she didn't make anything a choice. She forced this role of bait upon me, and she expected me to go along with it.

Now I get to choose if I bathe or not.

"Would you leave me alone, please?" I try the request for privacy, testing Wrath's reaction as much as trying to claim some privacy for myself.

"Yes, and I will get you some clothing. It will be at the door when you are ready. Feel free to use any of the lotions and creams and soaps."

I have not had a bath in three years. I have not been off the Mare in three years. I have washed myself occasionally in remnants of my water allowance, but for the most part I have used the reverbatory shower that disintegrates filth from the skin in a sort of fuzzy feeling fashion.

Looking at this subterranean oasis, and knowing that I will have privacy, I cannot resist.

"Yes, please," I say.

"Good girl."

Those two words, delivered in a rough saurian growl, detonate somewhere low in my belly. I turn from him to hide my face because I know I just went bright red, and my lips have parted in a smile, and I think there might even be tears in my eyes because it has been such a long time since anybody said anything so nice to me. I haven't been a good girl for almost two decades. I never thought I would be one again.

He leaves me, shutting the door behind him considerately. I am shocked at how kind he is being. It is the last thing I expected from him. Everything I have been told has led me to believe I would be ravaged without warning, concern, or care.

I take off the horrible outfit and toss it to the side. I will never wear that again. I will never wear anything like it again. Having been sent to the planet dressed like that makes me feel like I was violated by my so-called crew. I do not know if I will ever be able to forgive them for that.

Sometimes I wonder if we're really the good guys.

Sullivan used to say we were just doing what we needed to survive, but pirates don't do what they need to survive. We did a lot of things just for fun, too. Sullivan saved my life, but she was a villain to many. Her choices were always thoroughly unhinged. Raine followed some kind of internal compass, but she was ruthless and murderous.

Lettie is worse than either one of them.

Not everybody is cut out to be a captain. If the ship wasn't down on crew by eighty percent, she'd never have gotten near the chair.

I'm glad to be rid of her.

Naked, I slide into the water and discover that it does tingle even as it envelops me in a warm embrace. It feels incredible to be immersed. I had forgotten how light you can feel, and how snuggly it is to be in hot water. There's a slight green tinge to it, I notice when I look down at myself, but it's not an unpleasant hue. It's more like a wholesome, verdant color, a rich one that implies health and other sorts of things.

I spend a long time in the bath, trying out all the different lotions and soaps that are arrayed along the ledges. It is big enough to swim around, which I adore. Swimming is a luxury I have also not been able to indulge in for a long time. And then there's floating. I love the floating.

At some point in the middle of my reverie, a tap at the door indicates that someone is there.

"Yes?!" I call out, splashing about to sit up a little.

"There are towels and fresh clothes waiting outside the door," Wrath's voice comes through the door, somehow sounding as strong and immediate as if he's in the room with me. Close to me. Almost touching me.

"There will be food if you decide to emerge at any point. Or I can deliver food to you if you like, but your modesty may be compromised."

My stomach growls at the mere mention of food, but I am not sure I want to be exposed that way.

"Or you could use the foaming bath, and that will provide modesty."

"Which one is that?"

"The one in the orange glass jar."

I uncork the jar I think he's talking about. The second so much as a drop of the contents hits the water, it starts to foam with a brilliant fizz that makes me laugh with excitement. It's a simple joy, and it sparks something inside me I have not experienced for the longest time. Happiness. Simple physical satisfaction. I'm comfortable. God, it feels good to be comfortable.

"Don't use too much," he says, just as I finish emptying the entire bottle.

"Ooops."

"I don't like the sound of that oops," his gravelly voice replies.

The entire surface of the bath is covered in bubbles which are multiplying exponentially.

W rath

"HELP!"

I enter my private bathing chamber to discover it full to the ceiling with foam. She used too much, to say the least. I should have been more clear in my instructions.

Wading through the bubbles, I find the warm, wet, squirming body of the human brat I left alone for two minutes too long. I pull her out of the bubble cascade and into clear air.

She has an impromptu hat of bubbles and an expression somewhere between shock and excitement. She looks very different now than she did before. She was so worried and so tight in her expressions. Now she is smiling, laughing.

"Oh my god what a mess! I can't believe I did that. I've never done such a thing. I'm so sorry. I've made such a mess. I'll scrub it all, I promise."

"You will do nothing of the sort. The bubbles reduce on their own over time."

I pop one that settles on her nose.

She smiles, and I see an expression of relief expanding across her soft face. She was happy, smiling. But she was still scared that she was going to be in trouble. I feel as though she hasn't been treated very well before. There's a certain timidness about her, even in the middle of a natural appreciation for something funny.

"I don't mind cleaning."

"Why do you think you need to clean up?"

"I was the ship's cleaner," she explains. "It was my way of staying out of trouble. But I suppose my luck ran out. Well, not luck. I was sent down here…"

"They used you as bait," I say.

I wonder when she will notice that she is pressed against me entirely naked. I have already noticed, of course. But I think the novelty of getting into some innocuous trouble has distracted her so much it does not occur to her.

I like the way she feels. She is very curvy and very soft, and slightly squeaky in the parts where all my lotions and soaps haven't quite rinsed off. I feel a surprising welling of tenderness for her, a feeling I haven't had in a very long time.

Very strange.

"You need to get dressed," I say, sliding my hand down her back to pat the roundness of her cheeks.

The gesture is gentle enough not to hurt, but that does not stop her from letting out a small yelp of surprise.

"Of course," she says. "Of course I want to get dressed."

I have chosen a dress for her, not the work clothing that Adaine picked out for her. I am sure Adaine would have had her in the forge soon enough, cleaning hot tools and no doubt burning her soft digits off. I have recruited enough of Adaine's unhappy workers to know what kind of master she is. Being brought to me is a narrower escape than this human understands.

A llie

He felt good against my naked body. I didn't even notice that I was naked. Too busy being flustered by the mess of my making. This isn't like me. I don't make messes. I clean them up.

Ever since I arrived on this planet, everything has been upside down. I barely recognize myself. I'm starting to wonder who I am. I'm starting to wonder if I ever knew who I was.

I am grateful for the towel he wraps around me, one of the towels he brought me to use before I turned his bathroom into a hazard. He snugs it around me with what feels like a practiced touch. As far as I know, he has not taken any of our crew before. That is why they thought I'd make good bait. I'm something different from our usual crew. They thought I might be the thing to entice him.

They might have been right.

They think I am timid and weak.

Perhaps he thinks I am timid and weak. Maybe it is my plainness and unremarkable lack of bravery that endears me to him. That is humiliating to realize. It sends a hot flush of shame through me, snug and warm as I already am inside the towel.

I can't believe I laughed when the bubbles took over. I can't believe I thought it was funny. Of course it wasn't funny. It was another stupid mistake, made by a stupid person.

"I'm sorry for the mess," I repeat, genuinely apologetic. "I really don't know what came over me. I'm usually so much more careful."

"Don't worry. It is harmless and easily washed away."

"I will clean up."

"No. You won't. You will get dressed and you will come and have something to eat."

Wrath does not seem to suit his name at all so far. He seems like a genteel host and a very nice guy. I find myself starting to wonder if it is all an act. He might not be a monster after all. Lettie blames him for everything that happened to her down here, but it's not his baby that came out of her in a fucking egg. It's Shan's. Shan was the one who fucked her. Shan was the one who impregnated her. Shan is the one who is breaking the goddamn no-boys-allowed rule of the Mare.

"Here," Wrath says, giving me a dress in the wrap-around style. I snug it on over the towel first, slipping the towel off underneath and then further tightening it before using the ties to settle the entire garment in place.

"Why does this fit so well?"

"Because I want the humans in my care to be well-cared for. And because that style of dress is very forgiving for all sizes, shapes, and even species. Though it would be a juvenile who wore that in our species."

"Well, it's nice, thank you."

He takes a second towel and wraps it around my head, ensuring that my hair gets to dry. I am surprised that he knows how to look after it, given that he does not have hair himself. These are the actions of a man who has looked after a female of some kind before. I feel a flash of jealousy, a wild impulse that makes no sense whatsoever. He is my captor, not my lover. He owes me nothing, and even if he did, he wouldn't owe me his past.

"Thank you," I say again. "You're very good at this."

"It is my job to look after those in my care," he says. "There are many, of all ages and kinds. There is no limit to those discarded by the so-called alpha of Grave City. Thorn likes to let those he considers weak fall through the cracks. This is where the cracks lead." He spreads his arms wide. "To me."

He talks as if he's the good guy. But Lettie hates him for a reason. And I can't pretend not to know what he did to her. Or what she accused him of doing.

"Why did you send Lettie and her mate into the wild?"

"Because her mate was a traitor, and the alternative was killing him. He worked for Thorn. I had to get rid of him. I decided not to kill him. I decided to give him and her a chance at happiness. They found happiness, and now they are taking their revenge."

"When you say it that way, it almost sounds reasonable…" I bite my lower lip. Again, the idea that I am not on the right side of this battle occurs to me. Being made collateral damage will do that to you. Hearing the rationale of the enemy will also do it.

Wrath picks me up again. He does not invite me to walk, and he does not ask for permission. He simply grips me and swings me up into his arms. I am starting to believe that he is a natural protector, to the extent that when he finds someone, or something to take care of, he takes them.

He will expect loyalty. I know this because it is not the first time I have been saved by an avid rescuer. Captain Sullivan was my first. She never carried me around like a sick puppy the way Wrath is right now, but I knew from the outset what my role with her would be. I would serve her. I would admire her. And I would ensure I was never any kind of an inconvenience to her. That's what rescuers want.

Captain Sullivan never asked for those things out loud, but I always knew she wanted them, right up until she forgot about me and I became a fixture on the ship.

Wrath will forget about me too, once I stop being something of interest. I'll be able to escape then, if I like, though I don't know that it will be worth it. It's easy to stay in a comfortable little niche. Lettie evicted me from mine. I might be able to find a new one here.

Yet again, it seems to me that none of us are going to get away from our saurians. I think we're stuck as captives on this planet. I let my head rest on Wrath's shoulder as he carries me off to feed me, knowing that there's no point in resisting. I may as well endear myself to him now, before he forgets about me.

W rath

Every human we have encountered so far has been a hissing, spitting flight risk. This one practically purrs in my arms. The others are wild, but I believe this human has some chance of being domesticated in the real sense of the word.

But… and this is a significant but…

This is all a little too easy.

They sent her as a trap and she says she rejected being a trap, however, I suspect she still represents some kind of snare. I don't know how, but I know nothing is this easy. Pretty human females do not give themselves over to monsters they just met.

I will be careful.

I will try not to become emotionally attached too quickly — though I think I may already have fallen for her. This is the problem with human women and saurians. I have seen it many times. It happened to Thorn, it happened to Shan. Once a saurian male attaches to one of these women, there's nothing that can be done.

I thought I was immune to a human's charm, having met several of them and sent them on their way with various members of my organization. I assumed I wasn't interested because I was made differently, unable to feel softness for these squishy little creatures.

Perhaps I hadn't met the right one yet. What a horrifying thought.

I settle her in my room, where there is food in abundance. The so-called snack table is kept stocked with all manner of dried fruits, dried meats, and the occasional fresh treat as well.

We have a communal kitchen, and a team of cooks provides for those who live in the underground warren. Everything is done communally down here. We share our resources, and we ensure everybody has what they need.

"These are my quarters, and they are now your quarters," I explain to her. "Help yourself to anything you would like. I know you're hungry."

A tap at the door distracts me, but I know she will be safe enough here. My quarters are secure, and she will be able to pick through the food to her heart's content while I deal with the visitor.

I step outside, shutting the door behind me. I am not surprised to see that it is Zin. I promised him the next female we caught. I do not like to go back on a promise, but that is not happening. The thought of him so much as touching her fills me with rage.

"Is she ready for me?" Zin makes the inquiry with a cold gaze. He does not care about her. He wants to use her for his twisted pleasure. I know Zin's tastes. I know they run to the cruel. That has never bothered me. I do not judge the temperaments of those who give me their loyalty. There is something wrong with every single one of us in one way or another.

That said, his question makes me want to crush his skull. The notion of him, or anybody else touching Allie makes me feel pure rage.

"It will have to be another human for you, Zin. This one is far too soft. You would destroy her in minutes. It would be a complete waste. You need a human mate who deserves your particular brand of lust."

Zin snorts and nods. "She looks soft," he says. "Who will you give her to? One of the lower ranks? Someone who hasn't proved himself?"

"I intend to keep her for myself."

Zin looks surprised. "You want such a round, weak little thing?"

The look I give him is enough to make him apologize for the question and withdraw. Zin is many things, but he is not completely stupid. He knows me well enough to know when I will and will not be pushed.

A strong saurian does not need to surround himself with only the strong. I have plenty of rough soldiers ready to do damage. I like to use our combined strength to protect the weak, and to give those who have nowhere to go somewhere to be.

"Is everything okay?"

When I step back in, Allie asks me the question with more than a little concern. I think she has good senses, this new human of mine. I think she is a survivor, though she seems to have little in the way of ability to survive.

"I am going to brush your hair," I tell her. "I do not want it to dry tangled."

"Thank you. That is very kind of you," she says. There is a shyness to her assent. She does not make eye contact with me. Instead, she is looking at the food, which she eats slowly at first, and reluctantly.

I sit behind her while she eats, and I brush out the long strands of golden hair which adorn her head. She is a pretty little thing, and this hair is part of her glory. I think it might be the only part of her that she has looked after. Her knees are scuffed, her elbows chafed. Her hands are roughened from work, not quite as rough as scales, but not as smooth as the rest of her skin. They are reddened, and a little cracked from exposure to water and chemicals. I can imagine how her life has been spent on hands and knees, scrubbing. She has not been given much in the way of recreation.

"Why did you work so hard on that ship? The others I've met seem to be laws unto themselves. Even the one currently attempting to dismantle the city was bold in her own way. None of them came across as servant-like. Are there others like you?"

"You mean others who picked up after everybody else? No. That was my job."

"Were you captured and taken as a slave?"

She gives a little laugh, though there's no humor in it. "I wasn't taken as a slave or a servant. Captain Sullivan saved me from a very bad situation, like she saved a lot of us…"

Sounds to me like Sullivan has something in common with me. I've not met the alpha's mate. I have met his second in command's mate, and she was an impressive specimen. Very dangerous. Very bold. Very capable of taking and doing damage.

"But I wasn't good at being a pirate like the others. I lacked the nerve. It scared me. So I started cleaning up the ship instead, and after a while, that was just my job."

"So you made yourself a servant."

"Someone had to clean. A lot of the crew wasn't really socialized well. They didn't know how to look after themselves or anybody else. So I did it, and I did a good job of it. I made sure that there was clean linen and clothing when people needed it. Sometimes I cooked, but I always cleaned up after. And I stayed out of the way when they were doing pirate things. It was a good life, until…"

I wait for her to finish what I am certain will be the most poignant of sentences.

"Until Lettie decided I was nothing more than human bait," she says. "Sullivan was always wild, and when Raine was captain, she was harsh, but fair. Lettie is worse than both of them. She wants revenge, and she'll do whatever she needs to do to get it. It doesn't matter what happens."

"There are limits to what she can do."

"Maybe. Or maybe not." Allie pulls forward, and one golden skein of hair slides from the brush as she turns to face me, her round visage haunted by big eyes. "I'm afraid of what she'll do."

"Don't worry about her," I say. "She is entirely irrelevant now."

"But she's not," Allie says. "You don't know what she is capable of. She…"

Perhaps I should be listening more closely, but I find it almost impossible to take in words when I am watching her pretty crimson mouth move. She does not trust me to keep her safe — but keeping her safe has already become my ultimate priority.

I do not want to frighten my human, but there is a chemistry between us that I am finding essentially impossible to resist. Humans have come and gone before. I have found them interesting, but not incredibly alluring. This one's chemistry speaks to me. She is beautiful. Her naked body is deserving of complete appreciation, and entire knowing.

It has been quite some time since I took a mate. I thought I had lost interest in the process entirely. We saurians are not known for recreational mating as a general rule. These human women seem to have changed that impulse. The alpha Thorn fucked his mate on an alien cruise ship in front of his soldiers. It was supposed to be a lesson of some sort, but I don't think he could help himself. And his enforcer fucked his mate on the roof of the bone temple, another display of wanton lust. I thought I was above desiring humans.

I was wrong.

I pick her up and lay her down on the bed. The garment falls away from her body, giving me an unimpeded view of her naked body. She looks up at me with something between fear and desire, but she does not resist.

A llie

Wrath looks down at me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. Being held by him feels like being inspected by someone who has the right to do so. I can't explain it.

He runs his hands lightly over my body, exploring me. He is taking a slow, but dominant approach to owning me — and there is no doubt that is precisely what he is doing.

"You are beautiful," he says. "And I intend to keep you for my own. You will serve me as no other has ever served me before."

His hands leave me, and he removes his clothing. He was not wearing much over his upper torso. Bits of leather criss-crossed in such a way as to be able to hold weapons, essentially. But he was wearing pants. Thick, leathery scaled pants that I did not pay any attention to until he unbuckled his belt and started to remove them.

His cock is erect and impressive, silver scaled and so much larger than anything I have ever been able to conceive of going inside me. The head of it is like a spear, blunted but still dangerous. Where a human cock is a fleshy, meaty thing, Wrath's manhood is protected with ridges and scales, all of which I am sure would be very easily felt when they were sliding inside. His cock is made for a much hardier kind of female, a stronger, rougher, beast altogether. I am afraid he would rip me apart if he was to try to push that weapon inside me.

"Don't look so afraid," he growls softly. "I have no intention of hurting you."

His intention doesn't matter. I don't see how I can avoid being hurt. He is so much stronger and larger than I am, and there is an air of maturity and gravitas about him that makes me feel as though I am inherently helpless in his presence. Everybody obeys him. Even that stone cold evil figure, Zin. That guy seems like a total piece of work, but he followed Wrath's orders without so much as a question.

How am I going to resist? What chance do I have of protecting myself? I was sent here as a sacrifice, and I am going to be impaled on that monstrously long and large cock. The realization makes my inner walls clench, as if being tighter will somehow protect me from the inevitable intrusion.

"You were sent here as bait," he says. "I wonder why. I wonder what is inside you that the woman thought I would take interest in you."

"I'm blonde with big breasts," I say.

He snorts and shakes his head.

"I don't think it is a physical trait. There have been plenty of pretty young females of your kind down on this planet."

"I am the the last person they have to send."

"Is that true?"

"Near enough."

I don't think so. I have lived long enough to know that physical attraction alone does not cause this kind of connection. There is something in her that I am recognizing, a strength, or perhaps a brokenness.

"You are a cleaner?"

She nods, biting her lower lip. I am trying to think straight, but it is difficult with all these soft, conquerable curves waiting to be claimed. There is something tickling the very borders of my consciousness, a realization that is taking far too long to come to mind.

"A servant," I say. "A servant to the captain of the ship."

"Yes," she says, her voice husky, her eyes hooded.

"Mine now. Not merely my servant either, but my slave. You will serve me with this body, and with your mind. You will give yourself to me as I ask, and in return you will be rewarded with tender treatment. No more scrubbing floors, no more being the lowest of the low. You are going to be my queen."

I watch as her eyes widen at my promises. I mean every single one of them. I look down at her soft, pretty, curvy thighs, and the light curling hair that hides the tender pink lips that I know are designed by nature to protect her sex against everything other than a rampant male member.

The urge to fuck her is intense. I am fighting it because it does not entirely feel like my choice. I want her. I need her. She feels as though she was designed by the universe and given to me by fate to please and satisfy me. I slide my hands down her thighs and pull her closer to me, pressing the length of my cock against the seam of her sex.

She is scared, and her fear is another aphrodisiac, in addition to her innocence. There is something about this pretty young human, something that suggests more strength and confidence than she has any right to have.

I need to get to know her. I need to know her mind, but I will know her body first.

My cock is throbbing with need. I have to have her. There is no choice here, not for me, and certainly not for her.

I spread her lower lips with my fingertips, opening her up. I see another set of even softer, wetter, more tender lips between them, and they in turn hide the tight entrance to her body.

"I don't want to be bred," she whimpers.

"You are going to be fucked," I tell her. "You are going to be filled with my cock and you are going to take it nice and deep. You are going to be spread for me as often as I decide. This tight little set of holes of yours belongs to me now. Do you understand?"

I hear a gasping little whimper from her. I wonder if my words were too harsh, too dominant for her. But then I feel a fresh flush of wetness on the tips of my fingers. Her body is producing arousal for me, preparing her body for being fucked. The more commanding, demanding, and depraved my words, the more her cheeks and breasts turn pink, the harder her nipples get, and the more excitement dances in her eyes. She likes this. A lot.

"Is this what you have been waiting for? To be taken in hand? Saved from a ship of pirates and put in your place?"

I find a little bud hiding at the apex of her inner lips. It hardens under my touch, much like her nipples do. When I rub it in circles, using her own dewy arousal as lubricant, she blushes bright red and spreads her legs and offers herself to me, forgetting her fear of my cock in favor of exposing herself.

I enjoy playing with her. She has so many places of sensitivity. Some are obvious, like her sex, but she trembles beautifully when I press my mouth to her neck, and her stomach clenches when I run my fingertips up the insides of her thighs. Saurian bodies are designed to protect. We do not have many erogenous zones — but this female human is almost entirely erogenous zones.

"Answer me," I growl at her. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, my little human captive. You were put down here for me to catch. Now what?"

"Now…" She hesitates.

I press the little button between her lips.

"Now you fuck me," she moans.

Breaking her down is so easy. She has very little pride to begin with. She is just waiting to be absolutely dominated.

"That's right. Now you take my criminal cock inside you. Now you become my fuck meat, my tender little human morsel. Now you find out what it feels like to be fucked by a true alien alpha."

I purr those filthy words while slowly rotating my thumb over her little clit, loving the way her hips rise and fall in response.

"Tell me what else I am noticing about you, Allie," I say.

"I don't know," she gasps.

"Tell me what your secrets are. What makes you more than just another wet, captive hole?"

She shivers in response, but she does not form an answer. I wonder if she has one. I wonder if she even knows what it is. I feel something in her, a little hidden truth that is locked away behind the facade of apparent helplessness. In my line of work, understanding how others work is essential. There is something about this woman I do not entirely understand just yet. But I will.

I drag my cock along the soft, tender line of her slit, then move around the bed, take hold of her by the hair, and tip her head back. This time, my alien cock makes contact with a different set of wet lips. Her mouth is barely big enough for me, but she opens up anyway, because she wants very badly for me to think she is a good girl.

"You don't want to tell me what sets you apart from the others, do you? I see it, even if I do not yet know what it is."

I press the head of my cock inside her mouth. She cannot take much more than that, but it is enough to feel the heat of her human body bathing my rod in wet pleasure.

I feel incredible satisfaction, not only at the physical sensation, but in knowing that this means this human will be mine for as long as we live. I have entered her. I have claimed her. And she has willingly submitted.

Running my hand down her belly, I curl my fingers toward her sex and find that little bud again. She makes an enthusiastic sound around my cock as I rub her there, pleasuring her, rewarding her for trying to take me in her mouth. I cannot thrust without risking damage to her delicate jaw, but she is sucking and licking and doing as much as she can to show me that she will give me all she can.

The air is thick with her scent and mine, chemical messengers flying between us, bonds forming in our minds that will remain for the rest of our lives. I have never before understood what it means to fall in love, but now it seems such a foundational experience I do not know how I lived so long without it.

She worked as a cleaner on the human ship, and now she cleans my cock with her lips and tongue. When I pull the head of my rod out of her mouth and let the shaft run over her lips instead, she reaches up with both hands, gripping me and kissing me with lustful enthusiasm.

She wants to be fucked. She needs to be mated.

A llie

I have been exposed to many males over the years. I have spread my legs and let them take their pleasure and endeavored to have mine in turn. In a past life, I fucked like sex was a weapon, putting my body to use for my employer's ends.

This feels different. Wrath feels different. As commanding and dominant as he is, there is a tenderness to his touch that I have not felt before. When he pushed the head of his manhood inside my mouth, I tasted him, and that taste drove me wild. I can still taste it now, an alien experience that has no real comparison to any typical human scent or food or substance. He tastes like I belong to him, like I was made to succor him.

I feel intense connection, belonging. I feel submission. I feel care. I feel love. I feel everything that is supposed to be anything all at once and so completely it makes tears come to my eyes.

I never imagined for a moment that I would want any male of any species like this, and I thought if I did, it would be because of some kind of rational reason. It would be because we had gotten to know one another and fallen in love over time and shared experiences. I didn't know he'd let me take a bath and then give me a single taste of his cock and I'd go absolutely mad with love and lust.

"Please," I hear myself moan as his cock slides over my lips. "Please fuck me."

I need his cock. Getting it will give me a sense of completion. I'll be whole again. I'll be home again. I'll be safe and happy, and nothing will ever go wrong again. My entire body is flooded with hormones, and I am absolutely in their thrall.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

BOOM!