Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
The Thropp’ians dug into it eagerly, scooping up globs with their fingers and slurping them down with happy noises. Sunny had tried a polite taste—just enough to be social—and had nearly lost the rest of her breakfast. The stuff was gelatinous and faintly gritty, like chewing the sand at the bottom of the ocean floor. She’d smiled weakly and wiped her fingers off quickly with the large leaf she’d been given to use as a napkin, hoping no one noticed.
She was relieved when Chief Lowhung rose from his carved wooden chair and announced that the day’s Mating Festival was about to begin. Anything to get out of awkward breakfast silence.
Or so she thought.
“Ahhh, greetings to you this blessed day of Mating, my lovely one,” the Chief said, striding over to her with an oily smile as soon as he finished his announcement.
“Good morning,” Sunny said stiffly. She hadn’t forgotten or forgiven his blatant attempt to date-rape her the night before. She looked around for Greer, but he was standing at the other end of the Communal dining area, speaking to a few of the Thropp’ian males.
“My bed was most lonely without you, last night,” Chief Lowhung purred, raising his eyebrows at her. “But perhaps you regret going home with your Protector instead of accepting my invitation?”
Sunny’s head snapped up.
“Regret? The only thing I regret is letting you give me that drink. And you weren’t inviting me—you were trying to get me alone and…and take advantage of me!”
Lowhung chuckled, low and suggestive. “Ah yes, the Mating Drink. I hope it served its purpose. Tell me, did your Protector manage to satisfy the urges it gave you?”
Her jaw dropped. She’d suspected there was an aphrodisiac in the drink but the fact that he was actually admitting it with absolutely no shame was too much!
“You drugged me,” she said, her voice trembling with fury. “And you tried to take advantage—”
“Don’t complain, little flower,” the Chief cut in smoothly. “At least your male got the benefit of it. From the way you were walking earlier, I can tell you were… well serviced.” All three of his eyes gleamed. “But perhaps you should come to my bed tonight. Your Protector cannot fuck you like I can.”
Sunny saw red. Professionalism be damned—she didn’t have to sit here and listen to this! Lifting her chin, she glared at the overbearing asshole.
“You will never get the chance to have me in your bed. Greer is ten times the man you’ll ever be!”
The smile slid from Lowhung’s face and his third eye glared in disapproval.
“Are you saying your Protector is more of a man than me?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she said flatly. “Absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent.”
He studied her for a long moment, his third eye narrowing, then snapped his fingers. A scribe scurried forward with a flat square of pale blue leather stretched tight in a frame and a stylus tipped with red pigment.
“Yes, your Chiefliness?” he said breathlessly.
Chief Lowhung held out a hand silently and the scribe handed him the square of leather and the stylus at once.
“If you truly believe that,” the Chief said, “Sign this statement. It says you would rather be with your Protector than me. Do this, and I will never bother you again—no matter how long you stay on our planet.”
Sunny didn’t hesitate. She scanned the words rapidly—it did indeed say she preferred to be with Greer instead of the Chief—and signed her name with a swooping flourish, then shoved the square of leather back at him.
“There. Happy?”
“Most assuredly.” The Chief’s smile returned, looking decidedly sharklike, she thought uneasily.
He turned to the crowd of Thropp’ians milling around the communal eating area and raised his voice.
“Listen, my people! We have our first match of the festival!”
The Thropp’ians gathered around eagerly.
“Who? Who has agreed to the match?” several voices asked.
“Why, your very own Chief Lowhung, versus the off-world Protector, Greer,” the Chief announced, smiling widely. “And the prize—” he gestured toward Sunny “—is this off-worlder woman with the lovely, huge milk-makers. She has just signed a contract agreeing to belong to the victor.”
Sunny’s stomach dropped and she stared at him in disbelief.
“Wait—what are you talking about? That’s crazy—I never agreed to that!”
The Chief’s grin widened.
“Yes, you did, little flower. See here?”
He shoved the leather square back at her and peeled back the first piece of leather. Under it, was more writing. Sunny saw—too late—that it was some kind of contract. The Translation Bacteria that she’d been given aboard the Mother Ship allowed her to read it the same way it allowed her to understand the Thropp’ians’ spoken language.
She scanned the contract rapidly, her stomach twisting itself into a knot as she read. Oh, no—the Chief was right!
“There—you see?” The Chief snatched the contract back from her and gave her another nasty, sharklike grin. “You, my lovely flower, have just signed yourself up to be the property of whoever wins our wrestling match. Let’s hope your Protector is as mighty as you believe him to be. Otherwise tonight, you’ll be warming my bed.”