Page 16 of Broken Triad
I swallow hard, steeling myself, desperately trying not to step back away from the beastly triad. They make the spacious garden feel tiny, their bodies eating up space, their black combat boots trampling the formerly pristine grass.
Everywhere they go, they mark.
It’s the sheer size and power of them that’s intimidating. Over seven feet tall, but broader and thicker than any human, muscled beyond belief, all corded, rippling muscles and thick slabs of beefy pecs, hard, bowling ball shoulders and forearms as thick as my thighs. The sheer weight of them terrifies me. With one hand—with one finger—they could pin me down. No matter how hard I struggled, no matter how I kicked and screamed, I could do nothing to escape as the three men claim my innocence, and the knowledge of how helpless I am makes a shiver run up and down my spine, heat flooding between my legs in a rush of intense, primal arousal I’m not prepared for. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
Krazak licks his lips. His nostrils flare, and he smells me, exulting in my scent.
My cheeks flush, because despite my terror, I know he can taste my tiny tendril of lust, the insistent ache as visions of being pressed down by him and rutted in the garden fill my mind no matter how hard I try to push it out. I hate it, but some part of me, deep down, craves it. Oh, the guards of Paulus’ manor hit on me endlessly, bringing me gifts of sweet desserts and heavy drink, trying every tactic to get between my legs. Some of them were strong. Tall. Handsome.
Compared to Krazak and his triad, those humans were weaklings, pathetic little worms of men compared to the demi-gods of the alien species. No human inflamed even a hint of the terrifying need that the three beastly Aurelians stoke in me, as if there was always a little ember of ache in my being that only they could find, fanning it with their primal essence.
“You wish to belong to me.” Krazak’s voice is rough and growly, deeply accented, and I wish I didn’t understand. I shiver, a frisson rushing down my spine, as I imagine my future with the beasts.
I planned my escape from Paulus. If these three tame me, there will be no way out. Aurelian Fanatics keep their harem wenches under tight control. Even a hint of defiance, and they’d put me over their laps, spanking my ass red until I sobbed for mercy, finding none. Krazak’s eyes go too wide as he stares straight into the core of my being.
The other two big beasts of his triad step in, their eyes cold, their biceps corded and clenched as they fight back the Mating Rage. Bolden runs his big red tongue over stone-grey lips, his eyes narrowing as he stares me down with a mix of obvious need and tortured restraint.
“You belong to us now, woman. What is your name?” He doesn’t ask my name. He demands it.
I had hoped to exchange names with him before. He did not care until he owned me.
My jaw drops. Just like that, it’s done. Krazak proclaims it, and I am his, to do with as he wills, because I made the choice to hide instead of taking a rifle in my hands to fire blindly at Scorp and alert the horde to our presence.
I know all about the brutal, beastly desires of Fanatics. It is one thing to be a servant in a harem on Colossus, protected by laws, with money sent each month to your family and a yearly celebration for joining up. Spending only a few years in an Aurelian harem, and you can choose any future, given a scholarship or a lump sum to start your business, all by Queen Jasmine’s decree—and many women choose to stay in the harems even with the opportunity to leave with their lives taken care of.
It's another thing to be owned by a triad of Fanatics, a toy to three brutal beasts who drip with lust and hatred, their eyes flashing with desire to breed me…
And to punish me.
“Lola,” I say, in not much more than a whisper, and Krazak reaches out, grabbing me by the wrist. His huge hand wraps easily around my wrist, making me look so tiny and fragile in his grasp. His callouses grate against my flesh, and he could snap my bone with a twist. My heart beats furiously, panic flowing through my body like I am a rabbit snatched by a hawk.
The three men surround me. I can’t see anything past the thick bulk of their giant bodies, the black of their togas, the strength of their beings, a muscled wall of granite flesh that blocks me in. They breathe in, tasting me, and I shiver as their robes slowly tent upwards as their huge cocks throb to life.
I always knew men lusted after me, but this is different. This is like wolves about to rip into dinner, and they’ve been starving for me their entire lives. I struggle against Krazak’s grip, but he does not notice my pathetic attempts to break free.
“No! Let her go, you fucking animals!” Rachel’s voice feels far away.
Khra and Bolden turn, stepping towards her, their anger converging on my friend. Krazak pulls me close against his body, possessively grinding me against his muscle, and I feel his cock throb with each beat of his heart. As Khra and Bolden stride towards Rachel, I see every scar on their backs. They are not bullet wounds or cuts—they are whip marks.
Who could have done this to the three alien soldiers? Who could have whipped them to an inch of their lives, bleeding out, their entire existence pain? How could they endure it, and what did it make them?
Now the two of them are bowling towards Rachel, fury in their steps, and I’m powerless to help her.
In a movement that seems almost accidental, as if Kriz barely shifted, he’s somehow between Rachel and the two men of the beastly triad. I can see him through the gap in their bodies, and he has a neutral expression on his blank face, but he’s gone from standing at ease to a subtle battle stance, hand on the hilt of his blade. His blond hair and black robes ripple with the wind, and his body exudes the challenge—take one more step towards Rachel, and his blade will be drawn, and the peaceful garden will be drenched in blood.
I’m pulled tighter against Krazak. Even ready for war, his cock is hard as rock, too big, pressing and throbbing against my body. Despite my fear, despite the impending violence, his sheer strength and power forces my body to react. I try to push down the sizzling ember of lust, try to distance myself from it, but the smell of his musk is in my nostrils, the power of his being flowing through me. I don’t even struggle. It’s futile.
The blond-haired Aurelian barks out something in his language, his tone crisp. Khra and Bolden yell back angrily, their deep, raspy voices booming out.
Rachel is composing herself with an inhuman effort. “You said because I defended myself, I’m off-limits.” Her voice trembles. It’s barely more than a whisper, but the three aliens silence.
“Yes,” replies the General Ra’al.
“I’ll trade myself. For her safety, I’ll trade myself, to you and your triad.” Her voice quakes, but she’s determined. A wisp of hope flickers to life as I imagine a way out, but her words only make Krazak’s grip on me tighten. He claimed me, and he won’t let me go. His breathing is a heavy rasp, furious that a mere human is threatening his prize.
Krazak pushes me aside in a quick movement that makes me stumble, stepping forward with his hand on his blade.
“It is our right to punish the insolent bitch!” Krazak’s words are venomous as he spits them out at my friend. He speaks them in the Common tongue, so that all understand him. It tells me just the kind of man he is. He can’t stand a human challenging him. He feels he owns me, and he’s insulted not just by Rachel, but by the other triad standing between him and justice.
