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The Prey: A SciFi Alien Romance (Betania Breed Book 2) by Jenny Foster (33)

Catherine Burke marched, her head held high, towards the abandoned building at the edge of the city. This was the meeting place they had given her. The company that organized the absurd poker games made a huge deal over secrecy, something she had already confirmed with her signature on the participant’s certificate.

Cat had found out about the woman poker, as her colleague had called it, and then only because Martin was a total gossip. After swearing her to complete secrecy, he had told her about his cousin who had participated, and in doing so, had saved her family from a yearlong jail sentence. The organizers paid generously for healthy, young women, and lured them with the promise of a safe existence at the side of a husband. Although Cat had asked herself what kind of men these guys were, wanting to win a wife in a game of chance, anything was better than continuing to live on Earth. Every day brought memories with it that took her further and further into the abyss of self-hate, and every night brought nightmares of the dead coming out for revenge. She just couldn’t keep going like this. Instead of throwing herself into the stinking and polluted river, this escape had presented itself to Cat. The PGL had been suspicious, initially, when she had mentioned her talent, and had insisted on numerous tests. When the doctor examined her thoroughly, she had seen his eyes light up. At that point, she had known that the usual wait time until the final consent was just pro forma.

Should she ever decide to return to Earth, she had a lot of money waiting for her in an account. In the meantime, it would grow rapidly. As an orphan without any living siblings, she had nobody she could spend the money on. Ninety-nine percent of the charity organizations on Earth were disguised arms of the government. They used any money entrusted to them to finance new weapons technology, unspeakable experiments on humans and animals, or on expensive whores for politicians of both genders. She could have burned all of her money and still inflicted less damage than if she had donated it.

For a second, she thought she could make out some movement in the heavy snow squalls, but when she stopped so she could take a closer look, there was nothing to see. This was the building, where she was supposed to meet her future husband. It was cloaked in silent darkness. She was already so close to it that she could see the damage left behind from the last war. The weathered writing above the entrance, flanked on either side by pompous pillars, told her that this building had once been the main library of the capital. Now, it was lonely and abandoned. In the chaotic years since the collapse, nobody had bothered to loot the library. Resources like water and food had been more important than books that told of adventures from long ago. Cat sighed silently and looked around, cursing the ridiculous secrecy clause. She was freezing. She was too excited to be tired, and the long walk here, from the city, had exhausted her. If the money hadn’t already arrived at a secure off-shore account, she might have thought that Martin had played a well-meant, but over-the-top, joke on her.

The sensitive skin on the back of her neck prickled. She felt like someone was watching her. It took all of her willpower not to turn around and run away as fast as her legs would carry her. Without drawing attention to herself, she tried to see something in the intact windowpane in front of her. The gray-yellow flakes prevented her from seeing anything that was more than ten feet away, but Cat thought she heard a low growl, like from a large animal. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might burst. The only weapon she had brought with her was hidden in her knee-high boots, and if she leaned forward to get it or went to her knees, she would be vulnerable. She took a deep breath and turned around. If she was going to die, she would do so standing up.

Whatever it was, it was coming towards her in the heavy falling snow. The sound of boots crunching on the fresh snow droned in her ears. A huge shadow was slowly moving towards her. There was a yellow shimmer where she assumed the eyes would be. Using the height of the eyes to judge how big the rest of the body was, then this creature, which was coming closer to her with every step, was at least two heads taller than she was. Her knees shook, and she breathed in gasps. She heard the growl again, much closer this time, and a soft – sniffing?

Cat prepared herself to die. She let out a scream and her knees buckled. So much for dying with her dignity intact, she thought, and braced herself for pain.

A face started to materialize out of the snow. Cat held her breath. When she could finally see his face, she exhaled sharply with a hiss. He was a man, with an alien exterior, but of a humanoid shape. Even though her senses, or what was left of them, told her that she was not out of the woods yet, she still felt immense relief flood her body. She could deal with a creature that could think and feel, even if … she pushed the thought to the side. This must be the man who had won her in the gamble. He was her ticket to freedom. She tried to remember the password the poker company had given her. “Dandelion?” she asked the man who was now standing less than a foot in front of her. The word came out in a mere whisper, so she cleared her throat and repeated “dandelion,” this time loudly and clearly.

“Gold rain,” he answered without hesitation. His voice was pleasantly deep and exuded poise. She was grateful for this. Now that she could see him more clearly, she realized that she had secretly expected a repulsive, disfigured or somehow otherwise disgusting figure. The universe was populated by a multitude of creatures, and many of them were not visually appealing to the human eye. This man here, however, was attractive, at least outwardly. It was strange, but the scar that ran across his face made his chiseled features even more attractive.

Cat suppressed the urge to use her gift. Never again, she had promised herself. Not after everything that had happened after the last time.

When the man raised an eyebrow quizzically and pointed in the direction from which he had come, she realized that she had been staring at him for far too long.

He seemed to be a man of few words. That was fine with her. The less they spoke to each other, the less she would be tied to him.

She stomped after him in the increasingly heavy snow. She was thankful for the protection his broad back afforded her and took the opportunity to study him more closely. The way the man moved, told her more about his character than hours of small talk could. Even though he carried an enormous muscle mass with him, he moved with grace and as elegantly as a predator. A dangerous predator, mind you, because there was nothing hesitant about the way he moved. Every now and then, he turned his head a few inches to check the area. Cat noticed that he did not rely only on his eyes. He flared his nostrils and took in the air. If her eyes were not fooling her, his pointed ears could even move in different directions.

He might look ninety-five percent human, but his behavior proved that there was literally more to him. Cat became aware of how little she knew about him, and just how dangerous this business was that she had jumped into, when she was panic-stricken. Even though the interstellar poker company promised boldly that all women would get a “husband according to the ritual of the race in question,” who was actually going to check on this? Her companion could drag her off to the furthest corners of the universe, and sacrifice her there, on the altar of a pagan god, and nobody would ever know.

She sighed again – this time a little louder.

The pointed ears twitched. “We are almost there,” he said. Cat needed a moment to realize that this was his answer to her sigh. “That’s … good.” she replied. What else could she possibly say? I have changed my mind was out of question, as was, tell me, what exactly do you have planned for me?

She didn’t see the space glider until he stepped to the side, moving his broad back from her field of vision. The ship was bigger than she had expected, and looked both maneuverable and dangerous. There was a blue shimmer surrounding the ship, emphasizing its sleek shape. Looking at it as closely as Cat was, one could just make out small hatches that looked like they had retractable weapons behind them. The entrance opened up about two feet from the ground. Without any further ado, the man lifted her up into his arms and jumped from a standing position into the interior of the space ship. Against her will, Cat was impressed with how little effort it took him to hold her against his chest. It also made her shiver with fear. She would need to have more than fast legs to put her escape plan into action.

Carefully, as if she could break at the slightest wrong move, he set her down on the ground. Cat almost regretted, just almost, that she couldn’t feel the warmth of his body anymore, even though the inside temperature on the ship was fairly high. The air was actually so warm that she took off her jacket and pulled her sweater over her head. Her eyes fell on the portrait of a man whose highly decorated chest swelled proudly towards the observer. He seemed dandy and feminine, somehow, maybe because of his pouty mouth that was smiling arrogantly.

In the meantime, her companion had raised his left hand to his mouth and was speaking into his armband. So, they had the most modern communication methods here, too. She saw another obstacle to her path to freedom. He growled something in a language she couldn’t understand. It sounded like the grumbling of a predator. She tried to take her mind off the fear that was spreading through her body by asking him his name. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, but couldn’t prevent a fearful tone from creeping into her voice. “I am Catherine Burke. Cat. You can call me Cat,” she babbled nervously.

He looked down at her from his impressive height. His eyes seemed even stranger in the bright light than they had earlier in the dark of the cold night. Their color made his unnerving stare even stronger. They were a mix of something that changed from amber to the purest gold. Cat noticed her heart starting to race. Her instinct was screaming something to her, something about escaping, but it wasn’t just a deep-seated primal fear of a carnivorous predator that made sweat appear on her forehead. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she would lose herself in those eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Please forgive my manners,” he said and bowed slightly, so that he was almost at her eye level. “The weather on your planet is so inhospitable that I didn’t want to delay our departure.” Gold sparks flew in his eyes and then disappeared again. “My name is Talon Delkhari. I am one of the warriors of his Majesty Ferthoris III, who is also called the Wise One.” The last few words came out in a squeaky tone, and she wondered if he had caught a cold during his short stay on Earth. But before she could ask him about it, he pointed to a sprawling sofa against the wall. Overall, the entire interior of the ship was extremely luxurious. A few comfortable-looking chairs were arranged around a small bar, and two people could have easily slept on the sofa without bothering each other. Cat sat down on the sofa and nearly drowned in the overly soft upholstery.

“We will arrive at the mother ship in about an hour,” Talon explained. “Please make yourself comfortable until then. You are allowed to go anywhere except for the cockpit, and if you are hungry or thirsty,” he raised his eyebrows quizzically, “you are free to help yourself here.” He leaned down and opened a small cupboard under the bar. The pouches probably contained dried food, but as long as she couldn’t read the foreign, swirling symbols, she would rather go without.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “Will you keep me company during this time? I would love to learn more about you and my new home.” She tried in vain to interpret his facial expression, and threw her head back. This would never work, not from this low-seated position. It would be better for her to make things clear, so she stood up. Now she wouldn’t have to look up at him all the time. It wasn’t easy to fight her way out of the sofa, and after some awkward flailing, Talon lost his patience, and pulled her up. His skin was warm and dry and felt so silky that she brushed her thumb over the back of his hand before she could stop herself.

He jerked back as if her touch had scalded him. His pupils widened, until his glowing gold eyes were reduced to a thin ring. A dull growl came from his throat. Cat’s heart gave a big lurch and she drew back. “I am sorry,” she stammered and cursed her involuntary action silently. “I didn’t mean to get that close to you. I thought …” She lost her voice.

“It’s okay,” Talon snarled. His nostrils flared, and Cat saw a bead of sweat run down his temple. He stepped back slowly, as if doing so took all of the self-control he could muster.

“I will leave you alone now. I am expected in the cockpit. We will discuss everything else,” he was looking at a spot that was behind her head somewhere, “when we are on board the Stella Solaris.” He turned to leave, but before he walked through the door that probably led to the pilot’s cockpit, he looked at her one more time with that look that made her afraid and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. “If you want to start preparing for your duties, you will find a handbook on the table next to the sofa. It contains everything you need to know about your new home and husband.” With that, he departed without saying good-bye, leaving Cat behind. She needed a moment to understand what he had said. Finally, when she saw the title of the fairly comprehensive binder, it dawned on her that she had made a mistake. “The King of Kanthari 7 and his Brides” was written on it in bold letters. Below the title, she saw the same man she had noticed in the portrait earlier, but with one significant difference: he was sitting on an elaborately carved throne, and at his feet, female creatures of every type and color you could imagine cowered, and also a few you would rather not imagine.

Talon was not her future husband. Fate had secured a place for her in Ferthoris III’s harem.

****

 

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