For all that, the barbarian Prince was well proportioned. Unlike ‘abnormal’ human specimens that were either way above or way below average and tended to be disproportionate, he looked like a very well built human male—perfectly proportioned—just giant sized.

Nor was there anything the least bit ‘monster-like’ about his face. He was well above average in that respect, as well—the average human, that is—in handsomeness of features.

But he was a savage and she was afraid that was where the ‘monster’ would come in. She thought that probably meant that she wasn’t going to like her little adventure and she would, in fact, be lucky to survive it intact.

Maybe that had been a touch of hysteria that had prompted the ill-timed amusement she’d felt when he’d told her he was known as Drak the pretty? Uh … Fair?

She was struggling to think of something she could say that might have some hope of smoothing the feathers she’d ruffled when she heard and felt the engine come to life.

The sound wasn’t reassuring and that had nothing to do with her realization that they were taking off with her. No surprise there! She’d figured that out when the savage had lugged her aboard across his shoulder and dumped her in the cabin. And, if she hadn’t, his order for her to take a seat and strap in had certainly been a huge clue!

What bothered her—a lot—was that the sputtering and choking noises of the engine reminded her of old automotive combustion engines and, for something that was supposedly leaving the ground, that wasn’t very reassuring.

The engine finally ‘warmed’ up to a less phlem-like rumbling, though, before she felt the sensation of movement.

She gripped the arms of her seat a little more tightly.

The barbarian Prince was gripping his as if he thought he was going to fly out of it and that did not make her feel any better.

She realized in the next instant that he had the death grip for a damned good reason! He was anticipating what came next and she hadn’t had an f’ing clue and she wasn’t braced nearly well enough!

The sensation of simply rising abruptly shifted to nearly unbearable pressure as the vessel shot away from the ground, pressed her so hard into her seat that she felt like a giant fist had punched her—well slammed into her and was trying to push her through the back of her seat. The ship around her took on a more haunting, frightening comparison to an old rattle trap combustion engine vehicle as it pulled unbelievable g-forces. The engine only coughed and sputtered and backfired a couple of times on the way up, but it felt like everything on the ship was disintegrating, being systematically shaken apart.

Noelle’s teeth rat-a-tat perforated her inner cheeks painfully until she managed to push the flesh out of the way and clamp her jaws together.

She thought when all the screaming and shaking abruptly ceased that that was exactly what had happened—that the ship had blown apart around her and she was going to feel it any second.

Then she felt herself begin to float upward in her seat!

She flicked a horrified/terrified look at her captor, saw he was looking a little green and swallowed against her own stomach—which felt like it was trying to climb out of her throat.

Thankfully, that sensation was extremely brief. Something like artificial gravity kicked in and her stomach settled back into her belly.

The barbarian threw off his harness, bounded out of his seat, and abandoned the cabin.

Noelle watched him depart with a mixture of relief and anxiety.

With shaking hands, she struggled for a few minutes and finally managed to untangle herself from her safety harness. On shaky legs, she stumbled toward the porthole to look out.

It was just as she’d feared! The crazy barbarians had taken the rattle trap ship right out of orbit! She could see the world she’d been sure would be her home forever more disappearing rapidly into the darkness of space!

“Oh my god!” she gasped. “Where the hell are we going?”

Meal time came and went, punctuated only by her growling stomach. Noelle was torn between embarrassment and disbelief that her inner clock was still demanding food—at a time like this!—and resentment that no food was brought so that she could scorn it.

She hadn’t had a lot to eat since she’d been captured by the first group of savages. For one thing, whatever it was that they’d been given to eat didn’t appeal in either appearance or smell. For another, they were still eating rations they’d brought from Earth. They hadn’t had time to either acclimate to a new/different/alien diet or check the food to discover which foods would be safe for humans to eat and which weren’t.

She’d felt like she was taking her life into her hands with every bite she took and she and Monica had decided that the safest way to handle the food issue was to only take one bite and wait to see if they survived it. (The assumption being that one bite wouldn’t be enough to kill even if the substance happened to be highly toxic to humans—which was a risky assumption at that considering their were toxins on Earth that required far less than a bite to kill.)

Unfortunately, the damn warrior woman came back to collect the offerings before they’d had the chance to eat more and the next food brought hadn’t been the same.

Sooo… three days in captivity and only a bite of food here and there.

Her appetite should have dwindled, given those circumstances alone. With extreme emotional distress added to that, her nerves should have been too tattered to allow for any kind of appetite.

And yet here she was on an antiquated spaceship that didn’t look like it had been space worthy for a hundred years that was probably going to spring an air leak, implode, explode or crash whenever they got where they were going, and all she could think about was food!

Well, and sex!

Not that she wanted sex!

Especially with a savage that was twice her size!

But she figured that must be what she’d been captured for. All of the savages had chased down women and brought them back onboard the ship—she’d heard the screaming and cursing when the men had brought them in. What else could they have in mind?

Unless they preferred women for sacrifices?

She couldn’t think about either possibility without feeling a panic attack coming on.

But there was no escaping whatever fate they had in mind.

She needed to get a grip!

There were two choices of a place to sit—the bed—which she wasn’t going anywhere near!—and the uncomfortable seat she’d used at takeoff. She settled in the chair, closed her eyes, and tried to force herself to relax by focusing on slowing her breathing and calming her thoughts until her pulse was less frantic and erratic.

She wasn’t going to get rescued. She thought she might have, eventually, if she had just been captured by local barbarians, but these weren’t local. Wherever they taking her, she didn’t think the people of the colony would be able to find her.

Granted, Monica might have been right in her assessment of the situation and rescue wouldn’t have been something she could count on where she’d been, but it had at least been a possibility! Now it definitely wasn’t because the colonists would have no way of figuring out where she was given that the range of their tracking implants had been calibrated to an area within twenty miles of the colony itself.

So she was on her own and she was going to have to keep her wits if she was going to survive!

That bracing thought required unfastening the harness and a making another trip to the facilities—which she’d, thankfully, found on her own through a narrow door that didn’t look big enough for the barbarian to fit through.

So maybe he hadn’t shown it to her because he didn’t know it was there? Because it was dusty and musty enough that it didn’t look like it had seen much use in years.