Page 28 of The Thren's Fated

“Do you think it’s okay to touch what belongs to me?” Screl asked, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his knife, the unnerving light glowing brightly in the room’s dimness.

“What? I didn’t know she belonged to you, or else I wouldn’t have done it. You can have her.”

“That is the wrong answer,” Screl said, stepping up to the table as the man cowered in fear.

“It was just a joke! C’mon, it’s no harm, right, babe?” he asked, glancing at her with terror in his eyes.

Babe. How many fucking times had she heard that from Greg, from the men on Earth? How many times had they touched her or grabbed her and pretended it was just a joke, that she was a bitch for being upset?

“What are you going to do to him?” she asked, watching the man but speaking to Screl.

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t touch anyone ever again,” Screl murmured, and before she could say another word, there was a flash of movement, then an ear-splitting scream.

The man howled in pain, writhing in the Thren’s grasp as blood spurted from his wrists.

Lena turned away with a gasp, clasping her hand to her mouth and trying to resist the urge to wretch, her stomach roiling with disgust.

What the fuck had just happened?

The room was dead silent, save for the man’s horrible screams, the sounds of his chains clinking against the metal table as he struggled. A vision of severed hands flashed through Lena’s head as she slumped to the ground, pressing a finger into each ear and trying to drown out the anguished noises. She slammed her eyes shut, as if that would transport her away from here, as if she would wake up from this nightmare back in her bed on Henios.

As the screams finally turned into moans, someone reached under her arms and hoisted her back to her feet, tentacles circling her stomach and pulling her close to a hard chest. She squirmed around to face Screl, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered, grateful that his large body was blocking her from the view of the human. “Station security had him in the brig. They were going to deal with it.”

“Not good enough,” Screl murmured, petting a tentacle through her hair, her body softening in his arms.

“You shouldn’t have done that…” she said, blanching again as she pressed her cheek to his broad chest, feeling comfort in hearing his strange heartbeat.

“No one touches what’s mine.”

His possessive words settled her when they should have terrified her—the act of violence more gruesome than anything she’d ever witnessed. Good God, she was really losing it if she thought that what he’d done was anything other than horrific.

And yet, she found herself wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling herself in tighter, as if she didn’t want to let go.

“It’s alright, pet,” Screl cooed, lulling her into his peaceful embrace.

Suddenly, there was a touch at her chin, the tip of a tentacle tilting her face up to meet his unblinking gaze. He leaned down to get close to her face, cupping her cheek with a hand, and before she knew what was happening, he was pressing his mouth to hers, the warmth filling her immediately, like a switch had been flipped.

Fingers tangled in her hair as two tongues prodded at her lips before plunging past them and filling her mouth pleasantly. Long and wet, they were unlike anything she’d felt before, running along her teeth and tongue and sending repeated tugs of arousal to her center.

Screl was bent low enough that she could circle her arms around his neck, hugging him closer as tension slithered through her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and all she could think about was how she wanted more, needed more, needed those tongues all over her body.

Needed his hands and his tentacles caressing every part of her, entering her, filling her.

When she came to her senses, it was like she’d been hit with a splash of cold water, and she pushed against his chest, trying to put distance between them.

Screl pulled away with an odd look before releasing her, forcing her to stumble back into Dronzal. His chest rose and fell in rhythmic waves with the same desperate need that had overwhelmed her, still overwhelmed her despite the revulsion that tried to supersede it.

Tears burned her eyes, horrified by what had just happened. By what she’d just done, as if a man wasn’t lying in agony on the table behind Screl. Would they get him medical treatment? Or had he really been sentenced to death for merely touching her?

She was disgusted with herself, trembling as Dronzal guided her from the room, trying to fight the bile bubbling in her throat.

INTERLUDE

Her taste is so sweet, so succulent. The feel of her body intertwined with mine is like coming home. It’s where she belongs—with me, in my arms. My little human. She resists, but she doesn’t want to. Her body doesn’t want to. Her body wants to give in, and let me fill it with more pleasure than she ever thought possible. But still, she hates me. And I deserve her hatred. Every action I take is impulsive, foolhardy, because she is utterly intoxicating. I can’t think straight, can’t focus on forming a plan. She’s too gentle, doesn’t crave vengeance the way I do. Others have hurt her for too long, but no longer. I need a way to fix this so it doesn’t end in misery. I am ignoring my family for now, but it is only a matter of time before the official summons comes.

CHAPTER 10