Page 7 of The Alien's Captive Bride

Cold, unyielding metal pressed against her cheek. The low hum of engines vibrated through the floor, confirming her suspicion: she was on a spacecraft. Not the sleek, advanced ships of the Tharvian royal fleet, but something older, cruder.

Venus fought to keep her breathing slow and steady as panic threatened to overwhelm her. She was no longer on Tharvis. She’d been kidnapped, drugged, and taken who knew where.

Muffled voices drifted from nearby, speaking in a rough dialect of Tharvian that she struggled to understand. Venus strained her ears, catching snippets of conversation.

“...fetch a good price at the auction,” one gravelly voice said.

Another, higher-pitched and nasal, replied, “Yeah, them Earth women are rare. Esp’cially one with connections to their leader.”

“Shut it, you idiots,” a third voice, deeper and more authoritative, cut in. “We ain’t there yet. Keep an eye on her. Don’t want no trouble before we get to the market.”

Venus’s mind raced. An auction. A slave market. The reality of her situation hit her like a physical blow, and she had to fight to maintain her façade of unconsciousness.

Think, Venus,she told herself.Assess. Plan. You’re not helpless.

Slowly, carefully, she cracked one eye open, taking in her surroundings through her lashes. The cargo hold was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the grimy floor. Three men stood a few yards away, their backs to her.

The largest of the three, a burly Tharvian with intricate tattoos covering his exposed arms, seemed to be the leader. The other two were smaller, one wiry and fidgety, the other portly with a patchy beard.

“Hey, Gruk,” the portly one said, nudging his wiry companion. “You think she’s one of them shape-shifters? Heard some Earth women can do that.”

Gruk snorted. “You’re dumber than a zarlack’s backside, Freb. Earth ain’t got no shape-shifters.”

“But how do you know?” Freb insisted. “Maybe she’ll turn into a... a... what’s them Earth animals with the big teeth and stripes?”

“A tiger,” Venus supplied helpfully, her voice hoarse but steady.

All three men whirled to face her, expressions ranging from surprise to alarm. Venus pushed herself up to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in her head but maintaining eye contact with the tattooed leader.

“I’m afraid Gruk is right,” she continued, injecting a tremor into her voice. “No shape-shifting abilities here. Just little old human me.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You understand Tharvian?”

Venus nodded, letting her lower lip quiver slightly. “Some. I’ve been... studying. For the, um, the marriage.” She blinked rapidly as if fighting back tears.

The leader grunted, seemingly satisfied with her show of vulnerability. He turned back to his companions, leaving Venus to continue her covert assessment of the room.

Her gaze landed on a toolbox in the corner, its contents spilling out onto the floor. Potential weapons, if she could reach them. But not yet. She needed to lull them into a false sense of security first.

“Please,” she said, her voice small and frightened. “Where are you taking me?”

The leader ignored her, but Freb, the portly one, took a step closer. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he said, his tone patronizing. “You’ll fetch a fine price at the market. Might even end up with a nice rich alien to take care of you.”

Venus let out a choked sob, burying her face in her hands. Through her fingers, she watched as Freb moved closer, clearly fancying himself as some sort of comforter.

“There, there,” he said, reaching out to pat her shoulder. “No need for?—“

Venus moved with lightning speed. She grabbed Freb’s arm, using his momentum to pull him off balance. As he stumbled forward, she drove her knee up into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Freb wheezed, doubling over, and Venus seized her opportunity. She shoved him aside and lunged for the toolbox, her fingers closing around a heavy wrench.

“Stop her!” the leader roared.

Gruk rushed forward, but Venus was ready. She swung the wrench in a wide arc, catching him across the chin with a satisfying crack. He staggered back, blood streaming from his split lip.

Venus scrambled to her feet, wrench held high, her earlier façade of helplessness completely gone. Her eyes blazed with determination as she faced the leader, who was now approaching more cautiously.

“Stay back,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

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