Sohut's Protection: A Sci-fi Alien Romance (Riv's Sanctuary Book 2) by A.G. Wilde (ebook reader that looks like a book .txt) 📕

was reserved only for high-ranking beings on the top class of Hudo III’s society.

The Tasqals.

Taking Wawa off his shoulder, he looked into the slizz’s eyes.

They were in an alley, just before the entrance to the sector.

It had taken him what felt like forever to find intel on the stronghold and he had almost run out of days to do so.

Luckily, with Wawa by his side, threatening disreputable beings was a lot easier than if he was doing so on his own.

Still, no one wanted to cross the Tasqals.

Through extensive measures, he’d gotten enough intel that he was confident he could get into the sector and out of it alive, possibly.

He’d just have to rely on luck for that last part.

Tall, flat walls of gray rose into the air around them, telling him that he was in the right place.

It was rumored that Sector 89 went underground and that the structures on top were only for show.

Well, he was about to find out.

“You have to stay here,” he whispered and Wawa gave him a dirty look. How the animal managed to do that, he didn’t even know. “I can’t take you in with me. You’d give away my cover immediately.”

The animal made a sound in its throat while still giving him a dirty look.

“Oh, Riv is going to love you.” Sohut smiled a little, before letting a huge sigh leave his body.

“This is it,” he said more to himself than to the stinky little animal in his presence.

Stepping out of the alleyway, he pressed the distorter on his arm and felt the little zing as his image was distorted to that of the life form he chose.

A Hedgerud fighter.

Turning, he made to say goodbye to the slizz but realized Wawa was no longer there.

Cursing underneath his breath, he looked around for the little animal, but he couldn’t see where it had gone.

Phek.

But now wasn’t the time to try and find the thing. He might be late enough as it is.

As he headed toward the doors of the sector, he swallowed hard. This better work.

The large gray doors stood before him, dwarfing him in their magnificence.

“Fighter, state your code.”

It was a crackle that came through the wall. He couldn’t even see the speaker that it came from.

Sohut gulped.

He’d beat as much information as he could from the Gori’s and the thought he was placing his confidence in what they’d told him was making him feel sick.

“Code 9808 under His Excellency Tormud.”

All he needed was the right code and the right name.

It was lax security…but who was mad enough to do what he was doing?

No one.

No one dared to get in the way of the Tasqals.

It was a death sentence, quite literally.

There was a pause on the other side of the doors and for a second, he wondered if his plan was blown but the door began to slide open.

They were huge, yet they made no sound and soon, right in front of him was a long, brightly lit corridor.

Pristine white walls were on either side, and the lights themselves looked as if they were shining through crystals.

Sohut’s life organ skipped a beat.

This was definitely Tasqal territory.

They had a strange obsession with white and crystals…an obsession with purity even though they were so filled with impurity themselves.

As he walked through the open doors, he glanced up at the Hedgerud fighter on a platform above him.

The fighter jerked his head in greeting and Sohut mimicked the movement before continuing to walk forward.

A discreet glance behind him told him the doors were closing again.

As he walked, he kept his head slightly down and his gaze forward as two more guards came up the corridor.

They were mumbling to themselves and he hoped they wouldn’t speak to him. But apart from jerking their heads in his direction in greeting, they said nothing.

So far, so good.

The corridor was leading downward and he realized the rumors must be true.

Sector 89 was a stronghold built underground.

It didn’t take long before the ground leveled out and Sohut found himself in front of another set of doors.

These ones opened without needing a code and as Sohut stepped through them, he shuddered.

There were Tasqals and Hedgerud fighters everywhere.

His mortal enemies.

It was a—Sohut stopped moving, not believing what he was seeing—a sort of pleasure center.

There were chained soephrims playing stringed instruments in different parts of the room and lounging on raised platforms were Tasqals, male and female alike, getting…pleasured.

His stomach turned at the sight and with that feeling followed a fear he never knew he could feel.

His eyes darted across the space, looking at the beings pleasuring the Tasqals…looking but not wanting to see a female with hair like zimsu flowers.

Clee-yo.

As his life organ beat in his throat, he didn’t realize a Hedgerud fighter had approached him.

“You look ill, comrade. Did you eat the klee shells too?”

Sohut blinked.

Phek.

“Klee shells?”

The Hedgerud’s yellow eyes narrowed, and for a second Sohut wondered if he’d just blown his cover with that simple question.

“You must be new,” the Hedgerud said. “Hired for the auction later today?”

The auction.

So, he wasn’t late then.

Sohut’s shoulders slumped a little with relief.

“The auction,” he answered. “Yes.”

“That way,” the Hedgerud motioned in the direction off to the side and Sohut saw a dark corridor leading from the room. “Your master will be looking for you.”

Without another word, the fighter walked away and Sohut made his way in the direction that was pointed out to him.

It couldn’t be this easy.

Something was bound to go terribly wrong.

Unlike the pleasure room, this corridor was dark and led even farther down into the stronghold.

It opened into a dimly lit room, so dim it took his gaze a few moments to adjust.

There were Tasqals everywhere, though these ones were clothed. They were moving around, looking at displays set into the walls and at first, he couldn’t see what was inside the displays.

It was not till one of the Tasqals moved that his eyes caught sight of a creature he’d never seen before. It was Merssi-like, except it had four arms