by Cynthia Sax
Fraggin’ hole. She had stolen from a Chamele, one of the proudest, most battle-hungry beings in the universe. Dare swallowed more curses. His mate might have caused an intergalactic incident. He braced himself for possible violence.
“Why are you upset?” Faylee unleashed the full impact of her smile onto the unsuspecting Chamele warrior and the male straightened. “You’ll get it back if you win.”
“I’ll win.” Oghul stuck his chest out.
Dare narrowed his eyes at his female. She was a force…and she was his.
“B-but I don’t have anything in my pockets.” Azalea wrung her hands, the girl’s anxiety palpable.
“Don’t you?” His mate had more tricks to play. “Have you checked your pockets?”
Azalea complied. “Oh.” She revealed a dagger. “Where did this come from?”
That was Dare’s favorite dagger. “Mate.” He growled.
The other two males laughed. “Why are you worried, Dracheon?” Oghul clouted Dare on his right shoulder, the impact rocking him. “You’ll get it back if you win.”
“You’ll win, my mate.” She reached up and kissed his jaw. “Set your beast loose. I’ll be watching.”
His Drache rumbled, approving of her order. It hungered for a good fight.
“Let’s find a seat.” Faylee wrapped one of her arms around Azalea, her voice gentle. “The males will be putting on a good show, trying to impress us. You know how they are.”
The two females moved to the seating area. His normally quiet mate chattered, setting Hulagu’s mate at ease.
The boys followed, skulking behind them, their dirty faces turned toward Dare’s mate. No one sought to evict them from the semi-private space. They must have correctly guessed the boys were with them.
Hulagu frowned. “Who are they?” He watched the little thieves closely as they chose seats situated near Faylee and Azalea. The kid was protective of his female.
“They’re some of my mate’s admirers.” Dare’s tone was dry. He and his mate had fed the boys again at sunrise, would likely feed them next planet rotation also. “They won’t hurt your gerel.” The boys might steal from her, but they wouldn’t harm her. “What are the rules?” He abruptly changed the subject.
“We are to use no weapons other than our natural ones.” Oghul unfastened his holsters. “I won’t blend into my surroundings since you don’t have that ability.”
Dare discarded his weapons, leaving them on a horizontal support designed for that purpose. “I won’t burn you to ash since you don’t have that ability.”
The Chamele grinned. “This will be fun.” He extended his claws as he walked into the center of the fighting ring.
Dare did also. His Drache howled with joy, pressing against its restraints. It had mated with its female last planet rotation, was fighting now, would mate again before the sun set.
“I’ll sit out this round.” Hulagu retreated to the outside of the ring. “I’ll fight the winner.” The kid grinned from ear to ear.
“You’ll be fighting me, little brother.” Oghul boasted. “Did Hulagu tell you about the succession battles?” The male asked Dare. “They were fierce. I earned my place as Khan’s second.”
“He might have mentioned them once or twice.” A planet rotation. “I’m one of the best Dracheon warriors alive.”
That wasn’t merely the expected pre-battle bravado. Honing his fighting skills was how he’d survived his youth. Being an outcast, he was constantly a target.
He studied his opponent, the two of them circling each other, looking for weakness. Hulagu was easy to defeat. He was young and impulsive.
The brother was older, more controlled in his movements, experienced. He’d be more difficult to outmaneuver, wouldn’t make any foolish errors.
“Burn him to the sand, mate,” his female yelled, much to the boys’ and his delight.
Dare squared his shoulders. She was watching him, cheering for him—a Dracheon lacking control.
“Your gerel didn’t hear the rules.” Oghul laughed.
“She isn’t an admirer of rules.” His mate expected him to defeat his opponent. Frag honor. He narrowed his focus, determined to make her proud of him, to be the warrior she deserved.
Oghul surged forward, slashing the air. Dare raised his hands to defend himself. Claws connected with claws. The Chamele pushed against him, testing his strength. Dare pushed back. Muscles flexed. Biceps bulged. Both of them grunted.
Neither of them moved. They were equally matched.
Oghul bounced backward, breaking the standoff. “Make one mistake and this bout will be over, Dracheon.”
“That is battle.” Mistakes were the difference between living and dying.
Dare jabbed forward with his claws. Oghul twisted to the side and counterattacked. Dare blocked the Chamele’s blow, retaliated as quickly.
In the background, the noise muted by his concentration, beings cheered. Some sided with his opponent. Most supported him.
He was the favorite. That knowledge gave him energy, firmed his resolve. He would win. Dare dodged Oghul’s claws, moving out of their path.
They exchanged strikes back and forth, back and forth, the speed of the attacks increasing, their arms blurring. Dare relied on a lifespan of experience and instinct, reacting without thought.
His Drache wasn’t fully free. This wasn’t a battle to the death. But his primitive side was in its element—the rumbling in his chest growing louder, smoke filling the air.
He misjudged a move. Claws swept over his right thigh.
“First blood.” He acknowledged the Chamele’s success.
“Scales.” Oghul huffed.
“Still counts.” An error was an error. Dare wouldn’t win due to biological advantages.
They fought, Dare dragging his right leg behind him, feigning injury. Steam rose from his form. His muscles strained.
Oghul dropped his hand too quickly. Dare skimmed his claws over his opponent’s wrist, leaving a trail of pink on his skin.
“Son of a Gechii.” The male retracted the claws on that hand.
Dare went on the offensive, taking advantage of the Chamele’s simulated wound. Oghul defended himself with one hand, swiveling his body to avoid strikes.
That wasn’t maintainable. Dare would defeat him. Three more moves and—
“Kick him in the balls,” his pint-sized mate yelled, her voice cutting through his concentration, scattering his focus.
Oghul spun out of his reach.
Dare retreated also, trying to control his amusement. Only his scrapper of a female, a being raised in the caves, in a settlement’s back pathways, would tell him to target a warrior’s groin.
A chuckle escaped his lips, then another and another.
The Chamele’s grin spread wider and wider until soon, he also bent over and laughed. The two of them howled with mirth, slapping their knees.
“What are you doing?” Faylee jumped to her feet. “He’s still standing.” She waved her hands at his opponent. “Finish him.”
“Your gerel is ruthless, Dracheon.” Oghul’s voice warmed with admiration. “You’re a lucky male.”
He was a lucky male. “Should we finish this?”
“It is finished.” The Chamele’s expression was rueful. “I know that and you know that. Your gerel can keep my gun.”
“She’ll return it.” Dare suspected she planned to do that. “The only guns she’ll use are mine.”
“That’s a response a Chamele warrior would make.” Oghul retracted his other claws.
Dare did the same, recognizing the warrior’s words as the compliment they were. “We’ll deem the bout a draw.”
“I’d argue with your decision”—the Chamele’s eyes sparkled—“but I want to see your gerel’s reaction when you announce that result. It’s bound to be entertaining.”
Dare glanced toward his mate. She frowned at him. Her hands rested on her hips. She appeared adorably fierce.
He wanted to li
ck her all over, cover her with his flames.
“I know that look.” Oghul groaned. “I’ve seen it on my brother’s face numerous times since I arrived here. Have pity on a gerel-less warrior.” He smacked Dare’s arm. “Show me where I can find a good fermented beverage before you abandon me.”
Dare dragged his gaze away from Faylee. They would have one fermented beverage and then he’d mate with his tiny female, complete their bond.
***
Three fermented beverages later, Dare sat in the corner of a chamber in the settlement’s main beverage outlet, a structure that doubled as Kralj’s control center. His back was to the wall. Chameles and modified humanoids drank rowdily around him. His mate slept on his lap.
Determined to gain the warriors’ respect, Faylee had insisted on drinking a container of fermented beverage larger than her head. That had put her immediately to sleep, much to everyone’s, including his, amusement.
Her tiny black scales had rescinded. Her brown skin glowed. A smile curled her lush lips. Her eyelashes were as black as open space, long and thick. Her hands pressed against his chest, as though she sought to hold onto him.
He gathered her closer to him, savoring the feel of her slight curves against his hard body, and waited for her to wake.
“Hulagu won’t be making it.” Oghul looked down at his private viewscreen. “Something came up.” His lips twisted. “We can both guess what that something was. He can’t keep his claws off his gerel.”
Dare understood the kid’s issue. He couldn’t keep his hands off his own mate.
“You’ll keep an eye on him for me, won’t you? I know, I know.” The Chamele lifted his fingers in mock surrender. “He’s a grown warrior. He’s told me that multiple times since I arrived. But he’s still my little brother, my kin.”
Dare stared at Oghul. What was he talking about? “You’re leaving without Hulagu?”
The Chamele looked at Dare as though he were the delusional one. “This is his gerel’s home. She’s happy here. He wouldn’t and shouldn’t risk her happiness by taking her to Chamele 2. My brother realizes that. I accept that.”
Dare stroked his female’s arm. Faylee was happy in the Refuge also. “Your kind doesn’t settle permanently outside your sector.” They were like Dracheons in that way.
“We don’t traditionally settle outside our sector.” Oghul caught the server’s gaze and held up his empty container. “But we don’t traditionally have three brothers ruling the sector together either. That change has made us stronger. This change might make us stronger also.”
Hulagu would be staying in the Refuge. Dare hadn’t considered that possibility. “Will there be…repercussions?” Would the kid be exiled, cut off from his kin?
“I’ll explain the situation to our Warlord. There shouldn’t be any repercussions.” Oghul shook his head. “Expect to see more Chameles on Carinae E though. My warriors and I have been enjoying our stay in the Refuge.”
“I noticed that.” Dare gazed pointedly around the chamber at the drunken warriors. The Chameles had bonded with the Refuge’s equally boisterous, equally battle-prone modified humanoids.
Oghul laughed.
The server replaced his beverage. They drank, exchanged stories of past conflicts, tales about Hulagu.
Dare enjoyed the companionship, aware it would end if he returned to Dracheon with Faylee.
Not if. When he returned. He rubbed his hands over his face. The beverages must have scrambled his brains. He wasn’t a Chamele. No one would explain his situation to the Dracheon leadership, ensure there were no repercussions.
He’d be exiled permanently if he remained on Carinae E. His mate would share his fate. They would have no one…other than each other.
Other than his brethren within the Refuge. Other than Hulagu, Balvan, Orol, the modified humanoids around him. Kralj was a formidable addition to that list, the Ruler one of the most powerful beings in the universe.
Fraggin’ hole. Was he truly considering cutting himself off from his kind, leaving Dracheon, his home planet, forever?
He gazed down at Faylee. His mate had done that with little hesitation, leaving her former settlement, the other beings in the caves, her known way of life.
For him. To be with him, to make him happy.
He should—
Meet me in my chambers. Now. Kralj pushed that thought into his mind.
Duty called once more. Dare gathered his mate in his arms. He couldn’t leave her in the busy chamber. That wouldn’t be safe for her. He would convey her to their domicile, and return.
This involves your mate. The Ruler scuttled those plans. Bring her.
That meant he had to wake her. He cupped her cheeks. “Mate.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “Faylee.”
“Hmmm…” She snuggled deeper into his chest.
Sweet and gentle wouldn’t rouse his female. He had to change tactics.
“Wake up.” He smacked her fabric-covered ass. “Boy.”
“What?” She shot upward, her spine straightening. Scales covered her exposed skin. “Where?" She looked around her, saw him, relaxed a smidgeon. “Is there a threat?”
“That’s a question a warrior’s gerel would ask.” Oghul raised his beverage container, saluting her.
“Kralj wants to see the two of us.” Dare explained to both the Chamele warrior and his mate.
“Your Ruler is one scary being.” Oghul swirled his beverage. “I’d wake my gerel if he wanted to see us also…if I had a gerel.” The corners of his lips drooped, his body folding over the horizontal support. “Which I don’t.”
The warrior had drunk himself into darkness.
“Find your sleeping support, Chamele.” Dare gave him that piece of advice before focusing on Faylee. “Are you well, mate?”
“My head hurts.” She touched her forehead. “And my ass burns.” She rubbed that part of her. “But other than that, I’m well.”
“I had to wake you.” He had no choice.
“I know.” Her gaze met his, concern in her big brown eyes. “A summons from Kralj isn’t a good thing, is it?”
“It rarely is.” He was honest with her.
The Ruler tended to wait for a convenient time to relay happy information. An urgent summons meant it was bad news, possibly a threat.
Dare’s arms tightened around his female. His beast bristled.
“We’ll face the situation together.” Neither of them was alone…as they had been in the past. “We’ll survive it.” Whatever it was.
“We’ll survive it.” Faylee nodded. “I promise not to steal from him.”
“Place both of your hands on my chest, mate.” He stood, cradling her in his arm. “That will make keeping your promise easier.”
“It will.” She obligingly pressed her palms against his pecs, the contact comforting him. “When I touch you, I don’t think of anything else, only you.”
He felt the same way when he touched her.
“You don’t have to carry me.” She wiggled against him. “I can walk.”
“Can you?” He strode with her toward the door. “I saw that container of fermented beverage you downed.”
The sparkle returned to her eyes. “It was large, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” He chuckled.
Chapter Fourteen
The ache in Faylee’s skull decreased as Dare carried her closer to Kralj’s working chambers. Her mate’s terrifying boss was responsible for the reduction in pain. She was certain of that.
Which meant he must believe she’d need all of her brain to deal with whatever lay before them.
The doors opened. Kralj sat with his mate behind a horizontal support. His face was cast in shadow. Dita’s countenance was blank.
That wasn’t a good sign either. The assassin, her new friend, usually smiled whenever they saw each other.
Serious shit was happening.
A movement to her right drew Faylee’s gaze. “Overclocked.” The boy was slumped down
in the chair, his small body covered with layers of black cloth and dirt. “What are you doing here?”
“Had to see you, boy.” He peeled some of the fabric off the armrests. “You had to know.” He squinted at her. “You got scales now.”
“I have scales now.” She squirmed and Dare set her down. “What do I have to know?” She moved closer to Overclocked, fighting the urge to hug him. Her young friend wouldn’t appreciate that gesture. That wasn’t their way. “How did you get past the Humanoid Alliance stopping points?”
“I stuck to the shadows.” The boy glared at her, clearly offended by her question. “I can do that.” He plucked at the armrests. “Ain’t completely useless.”
“No one works devices like you do.” She reminded him of his worth. “You’re not useless at all. Did the other boys come with you?”
Had Three-eyed Mak accompanied him? Excitement filled her. She needed to talk to the male, ask him about her parents, her past.
“Nah.” Overclocked shook his head. “The other boys be long gone. Ain’t seen them since those Humanoid Alliance bastards shot up the caves.”
“They shot up the caves?” Faylee stared at him. The Humanoid Alliance males must have been hunting her. A chill swept over her. They had targeted the boys’ home because of her. She had led them to the caves. She had put them all in danger.
Dare placed his hands on her shoulders, his big body to her back. She leaned against him, relying on his strength to keep herself upright.
“Yeah.” Overclocked nodded. “The bastards started shooting at the entrance the fancy arses know about, the one Three-eyed Mak told us never to use.”
He didn’t like that other beings watched it, noting the comings and goings. Their boss said his business be his business, no one else’s.
“The other boys took off as soon as they heard the gunfire. I couldn’t keep up.” The boy slapped his leg, the one with the damaged foot. “Thought I was a goner. Then Three-eyed Mak appeared out of the darkness. His leg was bleeding, gushing like anything. Ain’t never seen him hurt.”
She’d never seen Three-eyed Mak hurt either, had always thought of him as being invincible.
“He called me a lazy cunt, slung me over his shoulder, and ran fast as he could. That wasn’t very fast ‘cause of his leg.” The boy scrunched up his face. “The bobbing made me want to puke. Up. Down. Up. Down. He said I puke on ‘im, he drop me on my noggin. I ain’t wanting that so I sucked it back.”