PRETA
Practical. That's what Drogan said my programming was at its base. It's sure defaulted to practicality now. I've never been more aware of my options: I can fight and lose to an alien that, in his tree-dragon form, has teeth longer than my forearm—or I can just give him what he wants, and hope he's pleased enough he won't hurt me, yet not have so much fun that he wants multiple sessions.
I don't need to gather courage, or anything. I feel like I'm a spectator as I numbly consider this towering male specimen that looks sort of human now. He's got moss for hair and eyebrows, and his skin has areas that look like grit, with raised parts that aren't stone, but aren't skin either.
He smells great. That shouldn't matter at all, but I guess it's just a nice bonus not to be taken advantage of by an alien that oozes and stinks like a urinal cake; little bits of luck can't be taken for granted. I breathe out and look up at the ceiling.
Submit. He's an alien creature and it's obvious he's horny. This is the smart play—I'm not strong enough to stop him—I can be raped or I can help myself along, make him happy, and hope I get a chance to slip away. Really, it could be worse; this guy could have shifted into a human-ish thing back there and thrown me down right in front of Drogan, but he didn't, and a soft bed underground seems like a nice gesture by comparison. I hope the other two bring Drogan to the same tunnels and if I do get to escape, I can find him and we can both make it out of here alive.
With a gunshot wound?
Between my dad and Charlie, I know gunshots spell infection and downtime. It's not like the movies where the hero gets to run around and take bullets like tickles.
Don't borrow trouble, just complete this and live to tackle the next crises. "All you have to do is have sex with the horny alien, Preta. No big deal. Man up!"
He stops moving.
So do I. My stomach drops as I lift my eyes and see dark emotion flash across his face. It seems impossible that he'd have known what I was saying, and yet thirty seconds ago, laying under a man that had just shifted from a dragon made out of a tree would have sounded a little more unlikely, so...
Male pride can be a dangerous thing to bruise. Seduce, my mind orders me, and this time, my words stay in my head and away from my mouth, thankfully. "Do you understand me?"
His face doesn't change, yet I can swear he recognizes what I'm saying—I have got to be more careful. I clear my throat. "Talk to me," I manage, and despite my throat feeling tight, my voice comes out normal. Calm. Like I lie back and let it happen every day. "My translator learns," I explain as I tap my ear.
Instead, he puts his hand on my crotch and squeezes.
YOU ARE READING
Alluvial. Valos of Sonhadra Book 1
Fantasia.Someone's using me as leverage against my family. I was your average citizen, innocent of any crime worth going to prison for, and yet here I am. But this isn't a regular prison ship. *Torture.* Experiments. They alter me. And when the ship crashes...
