Chris has had a monumentally bad month. First, an aggressive band of aliens invaded the Earth, conquered the world, and now he’s fighting for survival in the mountains with his family and the neighborhood bigot. Just because he’s barely out of his teens and a bit on the scrawny side doesn’t mean he can’t watch out for his mom, sisters and younger cousin. Chris keeps searching for the brighter side of things, but his humor is wearing thin. Fear can do that to a guy.

Lasar and Nary are a soul matched pair of warriors from Alashar. Lasar is Nary’s Ahna, the one who dominates him, and Nary is the Nasha, or submissive, to Lasar. Every Alasharian, regardless of orientation, needs the balance of the power exchange to exist peacefully within their lifelong soul match bond. When Lasar is awarded a war prize, he sends Nary to look over the recent arrivals.

Chris and his cousin Morgan are captured and sent to the slave cages where they discover from the other imprisoned young men that they are destined to be sex toys for alien pairs. When one of those aliens saves Chris and his cousin from being abused by the slave master, Chris hopes that the seemingly kind alien won’t be too horrible an owner.

Lasar and Nary are finally alone together with their new sex slave, ready to enjoy their reward. However, in the middle of their playtime a shocking event occurs that not only disrupts Chris’ world even more than it already has been, but also challenges everything that Lasar and Nary have always held dear. As Lasar searches for answers, he begins to question the reasons behind the Earth invasion and where his loyalties should really lie. As their Ahna, he must be the one who decides whether they will all be safer together, or apart.

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“Chris? Please wake up. I can’t do this alone.”

Oh thank God. Morgan’s here. Chris gasped, jerking upright. He glanced around frantically, his gaze landing on Morgan sitting on a cot right on the other side of some…

Bars?

“Fuck me. We’re in cages?”

Morgan nodded and Chris was surprised and relieved to see that he appeared less scared, seemed fairly coherent. More than I can say for myself.

“How long was I out?” Here he’d thought he was going to be the strong one for the both of them.

“Maybe an hour or so.” Morgan shrugged. “Hard to say.” He furrowed his brow. “Is it weird that the thought of not knowing what day or time it is, that it’s what’s bothering me more than anything else right now?”

Chris ran his fingers through his long hair, attempting to detangle some of it before it got too far out of control. “Dude. Nothing could be any weirder than what’s happening to us right now. What’s been happening the past month. However you feel about something, I say you’ve got the right to whatever that is.”

He peered around surreptitiously, taking in their surroundings. Several individual cages had been set up in three long rows in what seemed to be an enormous hangar of some sort. About a dozen of the beings wandered around, caught up in whatever alien-ey tasks they had to complete, none of them paying too much attention to him or Morgan for the time being.

“This place is fucking huge.” Chris made an appraisal of his cage cubicle, fully outfitted with an army cot, a thin blanket and… “Seriously?” He gazed down at his own nudity before lifting his eyes, noticing for the first time that Morgan was sans clothes, but had his own blanket draped over his lap. “While I was unconscious, I take it?”

Morgan lowered his head. “Be glad you were. They weren’t exactly nice about it.”

“Wait, what? They, what, ripped your clothes off or something?”

Morgan looked up at him. “Yeah. Pretty much. I guess they figured they can’t ask us because of the whole language thing, or maybe they just don’t care. Result was the same, either way.”

“God dammit.”

He stood, but wrapped the blanket around him like an ugly military-green toga. His little barred space was maybe a foot longer than the cot and only wide enough that if a second cot were added, he’d no longer have any floor space. At least he could stand up straight with some room to spare. He glanced around to see if any of their captors were paying any attention, then tested the resilience of the bars. Never mind. They were plenty sturdy.

“So we’re the only prisoners here?” There were at least a few dozen other empty cages and the absence of anyone else made him nervous in a way he couldn’t put his finger on.

“No, there were maybe eight other guys, but after they locked us up, they led them to the back.”

Chris’ eyes widened. “The back? Why? What’s in the back?”

“Shower, bathroom. The guy in that cage over there—” Morgan pointed to the one on the other side of him. “He told me. He’s been here almost a week.” Morgan shrugged, his calm demeanor concerning Chris more than if he’d been coming unglued. “That time thing again. He couldn’t say for sure.”

“Okay, well, that’s something, I guess. This guy, he’s been here for maybe a week and he’s okay? I mean…” He didn’t want to put any gory pictures in Morgan’s head, but at the same time, he needed to know what they might be up against.

“It’s okay, Chris. I know you’ve been trying to protect me, and I love you even more for it. But I think we’re past that at this point.” Morgan locked gazes with him and Chris wanted to cry at the emptiness he saw there.