Rescued by the Dragorian

by Emma Vance

  But was I saving us? I couldn’t help my reaction to the Rushing, my need to protect and mate with Beatrice. But every second we couldn’t find the scientist was one more female Dragorian rendered sterile by the Wolgons’ foul weapon, and more time that Beatrice was in danger.

  I curled my fists in frustration, my talons clacking together. I didn’t even know who we were looking for. The only intel we knew was that the scientist was a Dragorian male. But we’d been here for two days now and hadn’t found anything. And now, I hunted for this male with my mate when all I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder and escape this forsaken planet.

  “We’ve come to the end,” said Beatrice, with an amusing touch of forlornness in her voice.

  I grinned, my lips tugging upwards without thought. “Do not worry, my Beatrice. We will have many chances to mate again.”

  Her skin flushed, the brown tone turning delightfully rosy. Her human form fascinated me. These humans showed every emotion through their skin, eyes, and facial expressions. It was not often I wondered what my mate was feeling as everything was written across her face.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice breathless. Her nipples pebbled against her dress. I wondered if she was thinking of our last encounter, where I’d mirrored how the three-legged Trianthian gladiator was fucking his patron in their private room by having Beatrice against the wall with one leg over my shoulder, her other leg wrapped around my waist. I’d gotten so deep my cock had felt rooted in her cunt.

  At the memory, my cock stirred again, nudging at my trousers. I tried to tamp the feeling down. I needed to focus if I wanted to get Beatrice out of here. If I wanted to find the scientist and save the people we had left.

  “I know what you meant, my mate. I want you off this planet as well.” I growled with vehemence and her eyes widened. Perhaps she didn’t realise the magnitude of what a mate was and how much she meant to me. How could she? It did not sound like her people had difficulties reproducing as ours had, nor did they have an enemy as cunning and vile as the Wolgons.

  “Perhaps Tsanel and the other human females have had better luck.”

  We journeyed back to the front of the pleasure house but did not see Tsanel.

  “Come, I will take you back to the gardens.” I said, my hand finding hers. From our mating and searching, not to mention the past few nights of little sleep, I could see she was tired. Her eyes pinched at the corners and there was a purpleish hue underneath.

  I cursed at myself. I was exhausting her with the demands of the Rushing, and my own need to find the scientist.

  “Look, there is Kat now!” Beatrice exclaimed, and I turned to follow her gaze.

  The human female with the fire-coloured hair and skin covered in brown flecks did indeed approach, but with two males with her, neither of whom were Tsanel. One was a Vordax male, that was almost certainly a gladiator, as he had the metal cuffs at his wrists and one around his thick neck. Vordax were renowned fighting males, and this one looked to be no exception. He was as tall and muscular as a Dragorian, with massive hands that could crush the skulls of lesser beings. He had thick spikes up his spine and along his head, spouting out of his black, shaggy hair.

  But it was the other male that had me reaching for my weapon at my waist—the weapon I didn’t have. Instead, I bared my teeth, my fangs protruding long and sharp. I grabbed Beatrice and pulled her roughly behind me.

  “What—” she cried out, but I didn’t have time to explain, other than one uttered word came out like a guttural snarl.

  “Wolgon.”

  I leapt forward, slamming into the creature and pinning it to the wall. The Wolgon’s oval eyes widened, and through my black haze I registered them as gold, like my own. Not the usual ice-blue of the Wolgon people.

  “Wait!” the female with the fiery hair cried, and I felt her grip her arm. A shout from the other male sounded, and the female’s hands were gone, only to be replaced by the leathery hands of the Vordax male as he attempted to tear me away from the gold-eyed Wolgon.

  “You fucking idiot,” screamed the male in my ear. “He’s the one you’ve been looking for.”

  “He’s the scientist!” shouted the other female over and over, but I paid them no heed. They couldn’t be telling the truth.

  My hands were wrapped around the Wolgon’s bulging throat. It was strange, he was not fighting back. Not with the same vehemence of the other Wolgons I had fought before him. Or the ones who had killed most of my previous crew. Instead, he let me attack him, let choke the life out of him.

  The red-haired female was still screaming behind me. This Wolgon could not possibly be the scientist. A Wolgon assisting the Dragorians to defeat them? The idea was laughable. And despite the difference in eyes, this one certainly was a Wolgon. He had the same twisted horns, liquid black and shining, curved high from his forehead. He had the same rough skin, like the burnt bark of a tree, ashen and raised. And the same obsidian fangs curled from his mouth. I looked at those fangs, and all I saw were the bloodied faces of my last crew, dead at the hands of males like him.

  I roared and squeezed harder, thinking of Leontal, the fallen crew member who was like my own brother, ripped apart by those serrated teeth.

  Only one thing managed to pierce through my haze of fury.

  Beatrice placed her small, cool hands on my shoulder.

  “Mekvar, stop.”

  Her soft voice was calm, and I swear I could pick her quiet words out of all the violence in the galaxy.

  I dropped the Wolgon, releasing him with a speed so fast he crumpled to the floor.

  I stepped back and glanced at my mate. Beatrice’s eyes were wide and her soft human mouth was formed into a small circle. But she didn’t look scared of me. Only concern was etched in her features.

  Beatrice was worried for me.

  I felt guilt for a moment, before banishing the emotion. I would react the same again if it meant protecting her from the Wolgon. I’d tear down the walls of all the pleasure houses on Stryxx if it meant saving her.

  The creature pulled himself up from the ground, eyeing me with an odd look. His strange golden eyes were bright, and his lips twisted into something that resembled a smile. Almost as if he were laughing at me.

  I growled again and moved to lunge, but Beatrice spoke.

  “Mekvar, listen to Kat. She says he is the scientist.”

  “Lies!” I bit off, not taking my eyes off the grinning, abnormal looking Wolgon. The closer I looked at him, the more illogical his appearance was. His skin was also incomprehensively dotted with small gold scales not unlike those on my own body. Instead of the slits in the side of his head that Wolgons heard from, his ears resembled my own—large, pointed, and ridged.

  “What are you?” I demanded, taking him in. The more I looked at him, the more confusing he was.

  He smiled then, and his lips stretched across a set of inner fangs that were beginning to retreat. Exactly like Dragorian fangs.

  “I’m exactly what your human said I am, Captain. I am your scientist.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Beatrice

  “How?” Mekvar’s voice snapped out, the word little more than a snarl.

  He was more enraged than I’d ever seen him, even more than when he’d fought those two aliens at the discount pleasure house. His talons were elongated and his fangs nearly twice the size. But he wasn’t mindlessly attacking the big horned dude anymore, so that was good. We’d grown quite a crowd of onlookers when Mekvar had charged at him. Gladiators, guards and other aliens began to exchange small golden coins that reminded me of casino chips. They appeared to be betting on who would be successful in the fight.

  The crowds dispersed when Mekvar dropped the horned alien to the ground and it became clear there wasn’t going to be a fight anymore. Thank God. I had no idea if Mekvar would get in trouble if he actually killed someone on Stryxx, and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if he did.

  I shudder
ed, thinking of Nisha’s comment earlier about the other human women who had been thrown into the gladiator pits. And had not survived.

  I wouldn’t last five minutes in the gladiator ring with huge aliens like the horned guy Mekvar just tried to kill. Or even the spikey guy Kat was standing with, who looked like he could skewer me with one of the barbs on his back. All the more reason for us to hopefully get the fuck out of here, stat. I was not going to die on this sex planet by getting impaled on a back spike.

  I glanced around at the onlookers who were still interested in what was going on.

  “Maybe we should take this discussion somewhere less public. Like one of those empty private rooms we just saw.”

  “Fine.” Mekvar uncrossed his arms and stalked down the hall to one of the vacant rooms we’d spied earlier. The rest of us followed.

  A green tinged alien with huge eyes, long antennae and web-like feet—not unlike what humans thought aliens looked like on earth—stopped Kat with a webby finger.

  “I will join this group.” He looked her up and down. “I should very much like to fuck a human female. I’ve heard delicious things.” He licked slimy green lips in anticipation.

  I sputtered out laughter as Kat gaped at him.

  “No other guests welcome,” said the spiked alien with menace.

  The green alien shrugged. Kat and I moved past him quickly into the private sex room. I tried my best not to think about what had likely happened in the room earlier, and avoided looking at the various stains around the room. One splatter was especially large and took up half the empty space on the wall.

  Mekvar had crossed his arms over his chest stared at the onyx horned-alien.

  “You want a cure for the mysterious illness that is sterilizing your females?” said the horned alien with a snarl. “You’re looking at it.”

  I didn’t think aliens like Mekvar showed their emotions like humans did, but his ashen skin went decidedly pale at the horned alien’s words.

  But his shock didn’t last. He clenched his fists in anger once more.

  “Impossible,” sneered Mekvar. “You are a Wolgon. Why would you be helping the Dragorians?”

  “I am not a Wolgon.” The horned alien’s pointed teeth flashed. Teeth very similar to Mekvar’s. “I am only half Wolgon.”

  “What’s the other half?” asked the spiked alien, curiosity filtering his tone. “I mean, I can certainly guess, looking at this easy-going male.” He glanced at Mekvar.

  “If your guess is Dragorian, you would be correct,” the horned-alien said with another grim smile.

  “Impossible,” Mekvar repeated. “Dragorians don’t mate outside their species.” But as he said that, his gaze rested on me. His mate.

  “Apparently not impossible,” said the Wolgon, or whatever the gold-eyed, horned alien was. He looked from me to Mekvar. “It certainly looks like you’ve mated to this human female.”

  Mekvar’s jaw tensed. How had the alien guessed we were mates? There was nothing that gave it away as far as I could tell. As if answering my question, the horned-alien met my gaze with his piercing eyes, which were startlingly similar to Mekvar’s.

  “I’ve seen mated Dragorians before. I am able to recognize it, human.” Another flash of fangs.

  “You will not address her,” growled Mekvar.

  “Aren’t we kind of forgetting the issue right now?” I asked. “If this guy’s the scientist, then we can get the fuck out of here.”

  Kat smirked beside me. “Well said.”

  “No.” Mekvar turned to me. “It cannot be him. This must be a trap of some kind.”

  Horned-guy sighed heavily. “It isn’t a trap. I’ve been researching the weapon the Wolgons are using against the Dragorians for years. I finally had a breakthrough. I was about to see your Council of Elders, when I was attacked on my way there and sold to Stryxx for the fighting pits.” He lifted a big hand—it was more of a paw, really—and rubbed the back of his neck. “Apparently, they’ve never seen a half-Wolgon, half-Dragorian warrior before. And they like unique fighters.”

  “I can confirm he was in the pits with me,” the spiked-alien said. “We fought in the last battle together. Whatever he is, he was certainly bought to fight. And he’s damn good.”

  “Who are you?” Mekvar snapped at the spiked alien.

  “I am Raitek,” he answered, glancing at Kat. “Katherine said that you needed help finding another Dragorian. Boran is the only Dragorian I’ve ever met in the pits, even though he is half Wolgon. I thought he might be the male you are looking for.” He nodded at the horned-alien.

  “And if I believe you,” Mekvar said, swinging his gaze back to Boran. “What do you get in return?”

  “There’s a reason I was researching the cure, you imbecile. I obviously want to help the Dragorians.”

  “Then tell me what it is.” Mekvar folded his arms over his chest.

  Boran shook his head with vehemence. “Not a chance. Not until I have a seat on the ship you’ve got headed out of here. Then, I’ll tell you.”

  “Mekvar,” I turned to him, putting my hand on his arm. “You said the scientist was Dragorian, right? Surely it has to be him?”

  A muscle ticked in Mekvar’s jaw. “Who were your parents?” Mekvar asked.

  Boran straightened. “My father was a warrior in the Dragorian National Guard. My mother was a Wolgon female who was captured by a Dragorian outpost. They met and mated to each other. They both knew it wouldn’t be accepted, so they lived their lives in exile.”

  Mekvar’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t dispute Boran’s claims. Instead he took my hand in his. I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. Two different species abandoning everything to be together. Would Mekvar’s people accept us? Did I want them to?

  I shook my head at the thought. I didn’t care if they did, I had to remind myself. I was only trying to escape. Was that still true?

  “You say you cannot tell me the cure,” Mekvar said, gripping my hand. “But I need more from you. What can you tell me that will help me trust you? Even if I accept you are Dragorian and Wolgon both, you are still half Wolgon. Why would you fight against that half of yourself?”

  Boran clenched his fists at his sides and returned Mekvar’s gaze steadily. He hesitated but seemed to come to some sort of decision. “I had a sister.” He bit off. “She’s dead now.” His voice was calm, but with a deadly steel behind it. I knew this alien would be dangerous in the gladiator pits. His voice promised retribution. “She was murdered by Wolgons on a scouting mission to our little planet. I am no friend of the Wolgons. Blood or no.”

  That seemed to be enough for Mekvar. He nodded once. “I am sorry for your loss, brother.”

  I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Even calm Kat seemed relieved. She gave me a tentative smile.

  “So,” I said to the room. “Can we get the fuck out of here now?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Beatrice

  We found Hazel and Tsanel quickly, then headed back to the luxury gardens. Tsanel looked shocked when we explained what had happened and could not stop staring at Boran. Boran stayed quiet since his confession about his sister. He trudged alongside us in silence. Raitek, on the other hand, spoke animatedly with Kat and Hazel, discussing his time in the gladiator ring with almost fondness.

  “Are gladiators allowed in the pleasure gardens?” I asked Kat, looking at Boran and Raitek’s collars that proclaimed them owned.

  “Only if they are accompanied by patrons,” said Kat, looking at Tsanel and Mekvar. “Gladiators are often used by patrons for pleasure, male or female. Strangely, they are also bought for a kind of drinking buddy. Wealthy patrons will purchase a gladiator for an evening and will even gift them a female if they liked their performance in the ring. Think of it as rich people hanging out with celebs and giving them presents and stuff. It’s definitely weird.”

  “Have you ever been bought for a gladiator?” I asked, tilting my head to loo
k at her.

  “Yes,” she said after a moment. “I don’t often like to talk about what happens when I’ve been bought, but I think it felt wrong for both of us. Like we were two animals the patrons wanted to watch.” I noticed Raitek had paused in speaking and gave Kat a long stare. I almost asked if Raitek was the gladiator who had been bought for her, but I didn’t. Kat’s face was closed off, and I didn’t want to pry further.

  I couldn’t imagine what she had gone through in the past few years in this place, not having ownership over her own body.

  But it strengthened my resolve. We were getting out of here. Kat was getting out of here. She never had to experience that again, and the other humans didn’t have to go through that either. We just had to escape this planet and we would all be free. I had no idea if we would ever get back to Earth, but at least we could get away from here, and that was something.

  We got to the pleasure gardens, and if the guards thought it was weird that two Dragorians, three human females and two gladiators were waltzing into the dining pavilion at the luxury pleasure gardens, they didn’t say anything.

  The rest of the Dragorian aliens were gathered around a table at the back, with most of the human females. Nisha, I noticed, was not there. Though we had almost everyone on board with the plan, I would be heartbroken if we escaped and left Nisha here. Alone, and without any other humans. I had to convince her to come with us.

  “Got your message, Captain,” Mal said, his eyes bright. They darkened considerably when he took in Boran. Like Mekvar, he reached to draw his weapon, and came to his feet swiftly, his talons extending.

  “Wolgon!” he growled, and the rest of the Dragorians turned. They all had the same reaction—rage, disbelief, shock.

  “What drama queens,” murmured Pippa. Our eyes met and we smiled at each other.

  “It sounds like you may just be able to get us out of here,” she said, looking less wound up than the last time I’d seen her. She seemed. . . content.