Chapter 3

THREE

V enus stood on the stone steps of the Tharvian royal palace, watching her sister Raelee board a sleek, alien transport ship. The vessel glowed faintly under the light of Tharvis’s twin moons, its smooth surface reflecting the ethereal light of the surrounding gardens.

Raelee waved, her face radiant with happiness. Venus returned the gesture, a mix of joy for her sister and unease about her own future swirling in her chest. As the ship’s engines hummed to life, lifting Raelee and Vexor into the star-studded sky, Venus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“Safe travels,” she murmured, her words lost in the whir of the departing ship.

With Raelee gone, the weight of Venus’s own impending marriage to Prince Azlun settled heavily on her mind. Their intense chemistry, the constant pressure of political expectations, and lingering warmth of their shared kiss all jumbled together, a complex tangle of emotions she couldn’t quite unravel.

Venus shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She needed some air, some space to think. The lush gardens beckoned, promising solitude and a chance to sort through the chaos in her head.

As she descended the steps, her heels clicking softly against the stone, Venus couldn’t shake the prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Something felt wrong. She glanced around, her bright blue eyes scanning the shadows, but nothing seemed out of place.

“Come on, Venus,” she muttered to herself. “You’re jumping at shadows now?”

The garden path wound through towering alien plants, their leaves shimmering with an otherworldly glow. The air was thick with the scent of alien blossoms – sweet and strange, reminiscent of Earth yet undeniably foreign. Under different circumstances, Venus might have found it beautiful. Tonight, it only added to her sense of displacement.

A rustling sound behind her made Venus tense. She whirled around, her heart racing, but saw only the gently swaying fronds of a nearby plant. The shadows seemed to deepen, closing in around her. Venus quickened her pace, her instincts screaming at her to be cautious.

She didn’t see the attack coming.

One moment, she was walking under the glowing canopy of alien flora. The next, a sharp, stinging sensation bloomed in her neck. Venus’s hand flew to the spot, her fingers brushing against something small and metallic – a dart.

“No,” she gasped, her vision already beginning to blur. Darkness crept in at the edges, the garden tilting and swaying around her. Venus stumbled, fighting to stay upright as her limbs grew heavy.

Strong hands grabbed her from behind, muffling any chance of a cry for help. Panic flared, hot and bright, but Venus fought it. Even as consciousness slipped away, she swore she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The world faded to black.

The acrid stench of rust and stale sweat assaulted Venus’s senses as consciousness slowly returned. Her head throbbed, each pulse sending a wave of nausea through her body. She kept her eyes closed, feigning continued unconsciousness as she took stock of her situation.

Cold, unyielding metal pressed against her cheek. The low hum of engines vibrated through the floor, confirming her suspicion: she was on a spacecraft. Not the sleek, advanced ships of the Tharvian royal fleet, but something older, cruder.

Venus fought to keep her breathing slow and steady as panic threatened to overwhelm her. She was no longer on Tharvis. She’d been kidnapped, drugged, and taken who knew where.

Muffled voices drifted from nearby, speaking in a rough dialect of Tharvian that she struggled to understand. Venus strained her ears, catching snippets of conversation.

“...fetch a good price at the auction,” one gravelly voice said.

Another, higher-pitched and nasal, replied, “Yeah, them Earth women are rare. Esp’cially one with connections to their leader.”

“Shut it, you idiots,” a third voice, deeper and more authoritative, cut in. “We ain’t there yet. Keep an eye on her. Don’t want no trouble before we get to the market.”

Venus’s mind raced. An auction. A slave market. The reality of her situation hit her like a physical blow, and she had to fight to maintain her facade of unconsciousness.

Think, Venus, she told herself. Assess. Plan. You’re not helpless.

Slowly, carefully, she cracked one eye open, taking in her surroundings through her lashes. The cargo hold was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the grimy floor. Three men stood a few yards away, their backs to her.

The largest of the three, a burly Tharvian with intricate tattoos covering his exposed arms, seemed to be the leader. The other two were smaller, one wiry and fidgety, the other portly with a patchy beard.

“Hey, Gruk,” the portly one said, nudging his wiry companion. “You think she’s one of them shape-shifters? Heard some Earth women can do that.”

Gruk snorted. “You’re dumber than a zarlack’s backside, Freb. Earth ain’t got no shape-shifters.”

“But how do you know?” Freb insisted. “Maybe she’ll turn into a... a... what’s them Earth animals with the big teeth and stripes?”

“A tiger,” Venus supplied helpfully, her voice hoarse but steady.

All three men whirled to face her, expressions ranging from surprise to alarm. Venus pushed herself up to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in her head but maintaining eye contact with the tattooed leader.

“I’m afraid Gruk is right,” she continued, injecting a tremor into her voice. “No shape-shifting abilities here. Just little old human me.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You understand Tharvian?”

Venus nodded, letting her lower lip quiver slightly. “Some. I’ve been... studying. For the, um, the marriage.” She blinked rapidly as if fighting back tears.

The leader grunted, seemingly satisfied with her show of vulnerability. He turned back to his companions, leaving Venus to continue her covert assessment of the room.

Her gaze landed on a toolbox in the corner, its contents spilling out onto the floor. Potential weapons, if she could reach them. But not yet. She needed to lull them into a false sense of security first.

“Please,” she said, her voice small and frightened. “Where are you taking me?”

The leader ignored her, but Freb, the portly one, took a step closer. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he said, his tone patronizing. “You’ll fetch a fine price at the market. Might even end up with a nice rich alien to take care of you.”

Venus let out a choked sob, burying her face in her hands. Through her fingers, she watched as Freb moved closer, clearly fancying himself as some sort of comforter.

“There, there,” he said, reaching out to pat her shoulder. “No need for?—“

Venus moved with lightning speed. She grabbed Freb’s arm, using his momentum to pull him off balance. As he stumbled forward, she drove her knee up into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Freb wheezed, doubling over, and Venus seized her opportunity. She shoved him aside and lunged for the toolbox, her fingers closing around a heavy wrench.

“Stop her!” the leader roared.

Gruk rushed forward, but Venus was ready. She swung the wrench in a wide arc, catching him across the chin with a satisfying crack. He staggered back, blood streaming from his split lip.

Venus scrambled to her feet, wrench held high, her earlier facade of helplessness completely gone. Her eyes blazed with determination as she faced the leader, who was now approaching more cautiously.

“Stay back,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

The leader chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. “Feisty one, aren’t you? Good. The buyers like a bit of spirit. Makes breaking you more satisfying.”

“Restrain her!”

Gruk and Freb, now wary of her strength, approached from opposite sides. Venus swung the wrench threateningly, but in the confined space of the cargo hold, she had nowhere to retreat. A sudden lurch of the ship threw her off balance, and Gruk seized the opportunity to knock the wrench from her hand.

The fight that followed was brutal and swift. Despite Venus’s best efforts, she was overpowered by the three men. They pinned her to the ground, Freb’s meaty hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her shouts.

“Not so tough now, are ya?” Gruk sneered, his split lip still oozing blood.

The leader crouched beside Venus, his eyes roving over her body in a way that made her skin crawl. “You know,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “damaged goods fetch a lower price, but some buyers prefer their purchases... broken in.”

Venus’s blood ran cold as the implications of his words sank in. She renewed her struggles, but the men’s grips only tightened.

The leader reached out, his calloused hand sliding along Venus’s arm. “Maybe we should give our merchandise a little test run, eh, boys?”

Freb and Gruk exchanged uneasy glances, but neither moved to stop their leader. Venus felt a wave of panic rising in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. But beneath the fear, a cold fury began to build.

As the leader’s hand moved to the zipper of her dress, Venus made her move. She went limp suddenly, causing Freb and Gruk to loosen their hold in surprise. In that split second, Venus twisted violently, freeing her right arm.

She didn’t hesitate. Her fist connected with the leader’s throat in a vicious strike, a move she’d learned in her self-defense classes but never thought she’d have to use. The man reeled back, choking and gasping.

Venus took advantage of the chaos to slam her head back into Freb’s nose. There was a sickening crunch, and his grip on her loosened as he howled in pain.

Rolling away from her captors, Venus scrambled to her feet. Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for a weapon, an escape route, anything. Her gaze landed on a jagged piece of metal protruding from a damaged wall panel.

Gruk lunged at her, but Venus was quicker. She dodged his grasp and in one fluid motion, wrenched the metal shard free. She brandished it like a knife, her chest heaving as she faced her attackers.

“Try that again,” she spat, her voice shaking with rage and adrenaline, “and I’ll make sure you never touch anyone ever again.”

The three men, nursing various injuries, regarded her warily. The dynamic had shifted. They’d underestimated her once; they wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The leader, his voice still hoarse from Venus’s strike, growled, “Throw her in the holding cell. And for fuck’s sake, make sure she’s properly restrained this time.”

As Gruk and Freb moved to obey, Venus tensed for another fight. But she knew her odds of overpowering all three of them again were slim. Her mind raced, calculating her next move.

She might have lost this round, but Venus was far from defeated. As they dragged her toward the holding cell, her grip never loosened on her makeshift weapon. She’d be ready for the next opportunity, no matter how small.

After all, she thought grimly, she was Venus Arison. Daughter of the President, future princess of Tharvis, and a woman who refused to be a victim. Whatever these men had planned, they were in for one hell of a fight.