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“I drink, but not synth,” I say. “Just a beer would work for me.”
The general’s eyes narrow on mine, then he lifts his hand in the air and snaps his fingers. “Get the star princess a beer,” he commands.
Star princess. Is that how he sees me? Just another accessory for his lofty club, then. What am I even doing here? I thought this guy wanted a performance, not arm candy. He has enough of that to go around.
The general finally glances up at Xavian and grunts, “Want anything, Terran?”
Xavian shakes his head. “No, thank you. Need to stay sharp.”
“Sharp for what, I wonder?” General Atraxis growls. “We are all friends here.”
Xavian’s throat bobs. “Just doing my job, sir.”
A Denorran female approaches us, holding a tray with a single glass of beer on it. Already poured. I stiffen, and the general peers down at me.
“What’s the matter, my little star? Is it not to your liking?” he asks, his voice lilting on the end. He’s trying to butter me up, but to what end?
I purse my lips, glancing at the glass being offered to me and then back to Xavian. “It’s not,” I say.
The other women all look up from their terminals and stare at me. Now I’ve definitely just crapped my pants. Too late to turn back, now.
“I don’t drink anything from an open container. Could you get a fresh bottle and pour it in front of me, please?”
The general’s body goes rigid against mine, and his eyes narrow to slits. Then he waves the Denorran servant away. She walks off with the beer, and the other women continue to stare at me. But I’m used to being stared at. I’m used to the jeers, the taunts, the insults. Nothing they can do can possibly deter me from standing up for myself. If this general thinks he can drug me and get away with it that easily, he has another fucking think coming.
“Thank you,” I say in a sing-songy voice, laying the sweetness on as thickly as possible.
“My pleasure, sweet star,” the general says as his body relaxes again. “Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in my clubhouse, of course.”
But I am. My skin crawls every time he speaks to me, especially when he calls me any term of endearment.
When the servant returns with my beer, she makes sure I’m watching her before popping the lid open. “Would you like me to pour it for you?” she asks, her voice like sandpaper against smooth skin.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.” I smile at her, but she barely acknowledges me before striding away. I pretend to take a single tentative sip, then pretend to swallow it. It’s not common knowledge that I don’t drink alcohol, and I’d rather not give the tabloids anything else to talk about. They’d wind up prying into my life, and then they might find out about my father. It’s a slippery slope. I lift the bottle to my lips and pretend to take another sip and smile sweetly. The general watches me for any sign of displeasure, and I smile at him. “It’s excellent, thanks.”
Then he gestures to the small stage in the far left corner. Two steel poles on either side of the stage glint in the dim lighting, same as the ones I saw downstairs. I arch an eyebrow, and he says, “And now for the entertainment!”
Oh, fuck. He better not mean me. I’m a great dancer, but I’m notthatkind of dancer. The general claps his hands, and I cast a wary look at Xavian. With a set jaw, he takes a small step forward, but stops abruptly when the women disentangle themselves from the general and head onto the stage. Music pipes in through the speakers behind us, and suddenly the women who were so impassive and bored moments ago are grinding against the poles.
“Aren’t they something?” General Atraxis’s voice rumbles as he watches his girls pull off moves I could only dream of. The two Humans lift their legs high in the air and place them against the metal poles. The Terran does a split in front of them and jiggles her breasts until they pop out of the top of her dress, exposing her dark nipples to the air.
Yes, all of this would be incredibly hot if I weren’t so damn freaked out by the entire situation. When I look up at Xavian, I notice he’s not looking at the dancers. His eyes remain on me and the surrounding area. The general pats my knee, making me flinch and pull away.
“Now, my sweet star, I have to ask. Which one of these lovely ladies would you like for yourself, tonight?”
I freeze, then tilt my head. “I’m sorry?”
The general barks a hoarse laugh and brushes his claws against my knee again. I look back at Xavian, and he steps forward.
“No touching,” Xavian orders. “Unless she expressly asks you to. Sir.”
The general’s eyes widen as he regards Xavian. This is the sort of man who would rather commit homicide twelve times over than be scolded in his own den. In front of women. Is there anything more dangerous than a man who is being humiliated in front of several women? Probably not. Especially when it’s the woman who gave the initial insult. I swallow hard, bracing for the fallout.
But the general merely shrugs and goes back to watching his women wrap themselves around the poles. Seconds pass, then minutes, until he finally breaks the silence again.
“Tell me, little star. Have you ever been with a man?” His dark yellow eyes glint in the light as he peers down at me, and I stiffen.
“Um. What kind of question is that? Why would you ask that?” I don’t care who this guy is, or how much he’s paying me—that question is way too personal.
