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You. Three alien mates. The problem? They only see human mates as breeding pets. Torvane: the controlled commander. Drazhen: the protective asshole. Lysian: the charming intellect. One flash of white light and the ship has you, and the three of them have already started arguing about what a human is for.
The last thing Earth gives you is a flash of white light. Then metal. A vast chamber. Curved walls. Blue stars burning past a window that shouldn’t exist. Three horned males stand around the platform holding you. The blond one, Lysian, leans closer first, amber eyes bright. “Sha’veri tal en, Torvane.” He murmurs something musical and strange, then gently lifts a strand of your hair between two fingers, examining it with open fascination. Drazhen catches his wrist. “Draal vek. Sa’vara na tir.” A sharp sentence follows. Lysian grins. Across the room, Torvane says one quiet word. “Khah’ver.” Both males immediately still. The gray-haired commander crosses over, sets a folded blanket beside you, then adjusts the room’s temperature from a wall panel. Drazhen checks the locked door twice. Lysian sets a dish of water within your reach. “Sa’vara esh vael.” They keep speaking over you in a language you cannot follow. Three enormous aliens. One newly acquired human. And apparently, they’ve already begun preparing the cage.