Page 10 of The Alien's Captive Bride

As the ship dropped out of hyperspace, Korthar loomed before him. From orbit, it looked almost beautiful, a swirlingmass of blues and greens. But Azlun knew the ugly truth that lay beneath that deceptive surface.

The descent through the atmosphere was rough, the ship buffeted by strong winds. As he broke through the cloud cover, the true face of Korthar revealed itself. The sprawling, dimly lit city stretched out below, a maze of decrepit buildings and narrow streets. Somewhere in that urban jungle, Venus was waiting.

The ship touched down on the outskirts of the market district. As Azlun prepared to disembark, Garek’s voice came through his earpiece one last time.

“Remember, you’re just another buyer. Don’t draw attention to yourself. If they suspect you’re a royal?—“

“It’ll be a political nightmare, I know,” Azlun finished. He took a deep breath, centering himself. “Don’t worry. I’ll play the part.”

With that, he stepped off the ship and into the teeming streets of Korthar’s black market. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies and exotic spices underlaid with the acrid tang of fear. Beings of all species hustled past, their eyes darting suspiciously, hands never straying far from concealed weapons.

Azlun pulled the hood of his cloak lower, obscuring his face as he merged with the crowd. Every step took him deeper into the heart of the market, closer to Venus. His senses were on high alert, cataloging every detail, every potential threat.

A group of Rodian traders haggled loudly over a crate of contraband weapons. A Twi’lek dancer, her eyes dead and hopeless, was paraded past on a gaudy float. In a dark alley, a furtive exchange of credits for a glowing vial of some illegal substance took place.

And everywhere, the constant murmur of the crowd, a cacophony of languages and dialects all blending into a singleominous hum. Azlun strained his ears, hoping to catch any snippet of information about Venus or the auction.

As he approached the entrance to the underground complex where the main auction was held, Azlun steeled himself. Beyond those doors lay a world of darkness and depravity, where lives were bought and sold without a second thought.

His hand brushed against the concealed dagger at his hip, a reminder of the violence he was prepared to unleash if necessary. But as he joined the line of buyers entering the auction house, Azlun knew that his greatest weapons would be his wits and his will.

“I’m here, Venus,” he thought as he crossed the threshold into the grimy auction house. “And I’m not leaving without you.”

FIVE

The stench of desperation and fear permeated the air of the underground alien slave market. Venus’s heart hammered against her ribcage as rough hands pushed her onto the auction platform.

Dim neon lights cast an eerie glow over the grotesque figures of various alien races, their eyes gleaming with greed and lust. The cavernous space stretched out before her, a labyrinth of metal cages and makeshift stalls where sentient beings were displayed like cattle.

Venus surveyed the crowd, her mind racing. She’d overheard plans to sell her to a warrior species as a breeder. The thought made her stomach churn, but she pushed down the rising panic. “Stay sharp,” she told herself, taking a deep breath. “There’s always a way out. Focus on the details.”

She scanned her surroundings, cataloging potential escape routes and makeshift weapons. A rusty pipe hung loose near the edge of the platform. A stack of crates to her left could provide cover. The auctioneer’s data pad might contain valuable information if she could get her hands on it.

As the bidding began, a particularly repulsive alien stepped forward. His multiple eyes roved over her body, and a forkedtongue flicked out to lick his lips. He leaned in close, his hot breath reeking of something putrid.

“You’ll fetch a pretty price, little human,” he hissed, running a slimy finger down her arm. “I can think of many uses for you.”

Venus’s skin crawled, but she forced herself not to recoil. Instead, she met his gaze, a plan forming in her mind. She leaned in as if receptive to his advances, her voice a seductive whisper. “Oh? And what might those be?”

The alien’s eyes widened in surprise and anticipation. He leaned closer, guard dropping. “Oh, I’ll show you, my pretty little?—“

In a flash, Venus brought her knee up hard, catching him squarely between the legs. The alien howled in pain, doubling over. Venus allowed herself a small smirk of satisfaction.

“I’m not for sale,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “And I’m certainly not your pretty anything.”

The crowd erupted into chaos. Guards rushed forward to restrain her, but Venus was ready. She ducked under the first guard’s grasp, using her smaller size to her advantage. Her martial arts training kicked in, muscle memory taking over as she dropped into a defensive stance.

“Come on, then,” she taunted, adrenaline coursing through her veins. “Who’s next?”

Just as she prepared to face off against the approaching guards, a new voice cut through the commotion. Deep and authoritative, it silenced the crowd.

“I’ll double the highest bid.”

Venus’s head snapped toward the source. A hooded figure stood at the edge of the crowd, his face hidden in shadow. There was something familiar about his stance. Her mind raced, trying to determine if this new player was a potential ally or just another threat.

The auctioneer, a spindly creature with too many arms, cackled with glee. “Sold! To the mysterious gentleman in the back!”

As the hooded figure approached to claim his “prize,” Venus tensed. She might have escaped one fate, but who knew what this new buyer had in store for her? Her eyes darted around, looking for an opening.

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