Page 21 of The Thren's Fated

“Are you alright? I saw what that asshole did, but you don’t need to worry. Station security has already taken him to the brig. He won’t get away with that shit around here.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know if that’s necessary…” Lena started, but Michaela shook her head, cutting her off.

“Of course it is! He assaulted you. That’s against the law, just like on every station. C’mon, they want you to give an official statement, but it can wait if you don’t feel up to it. The cams caught everything, so that fucker can’t try to lie his way out of this.”

Michaela looped her arm around Lena’s, leading her back toward Ochin’s, but not before turning to Screl.

“Thank you, Commander. It was kind of you to look out for Lena.”

Screl looked like he wanted to say something, but he just nodded as Michaela escorted her from the empty console, a strange expression on his face.

What a day.

Lena sighed as she lay in bed, tossing and turning despite the exhaustion thrumming through her bones. She’d felt better after a hot shower, but between the unwanted touch and having to make an official statement about it, she was beat.

Yes, she supposed it was an assault, though it had been so normal, so expected back at her job on Earth. She really didn’t want everyone to cause a fuss over her, but station security had refused to let it go. Alliance privateers were supposed to hold themselves to certain standards, of which, slapping a bartender’s ass was not an acceptable one.

Screl had disappeared by the time she had returned to the bar to clock out, and perhaps that was the thing that hurt most of all.

Tears burned at her eyes, and she grabbed for her pill canister, vowing this to be the last time. She just needed a good night’s rest to put this all behind her, then tomorrow she could start fresh.

No more sleep meds.

Screl would be gone, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the asshole privateer—whose ship had already been not-so-kindly asked to depart from Henios—until the trial.

She gulped two pills down with a drink of water, not even bothering to close the shades on her window as she laid her head on the pillow, eager for sleep to take her.

INTERLUDE

I wanted to kill him. I should have killed him. But doing so in front of all those people… it would have complicated things. His time will come, though, and my Lena will be safe. I can keep her safe. We will not be apart much longer. Not much longer. She claims she’s not in danger, but I see the truth. I only hope she can forgive me.

CHAPTER 8

Lena stirred, a peculiar lance of fear stabbing through her chest despite the sleeping pills attempting to drag her back to the dreamworld she’d been living in just a moment ago.

The dim light from Botune filtered in through the window as she tried to blink the drug-induced sleep from her eyes, her heart thumping in her chest like a drum. There was a presence hovering over her, and when she flipped onto her back, a scream ripped from her lips, a shrill sound that echoed up to the high ceilings.

In an instant, the presence wrapped a tentacle tightly over her mouth, silencing her.

“Shhhh, little pet, you’ll wake up the entire station,” a voice said, cutting through the dark of night and boring into her bones.

A voice she recognized.

Screl.

Was she dreaming? Lena blinked rapidly, as if the Thren caging her to the bed was an apparition, a hallucination caused by meds which were supposed to help her sleep. But he didn’t disappear. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he brushed another tentacle through her hair with a wide grin.

“So peaceful when you’re sleeping, when your mind is empty of all the worries that hold you back from getting what you want.”

What the hell was he talking about?

Lena pushed her palms against his chest, as if that would do a damn thing against the overlarge alien. No, all it did was make him chuckle, and he lowered himself so she could feel the press of his body, not quite crushing her, but close.

Even as icy dread coursed through her veins, she felt her body warm to his touch, tension coiling in her center as if his attack was turning her on.

It was turning her on, arousal pooling between her legs at the power he held over her. Just as quickly, shame coursed through her at her body’s visceral reaction to an act that should have been horrifying. Screl had somehow found his way into her locked quarters without any alarms going off.

What did he want? Was he going to hurt her? Punish her for rejecting him?