Heir of Draga_A Space Fantasy Romance

by Emma Dean

  “Sirus, we’re about to land. Just hold on a little longer,” Veri said over the cast.

  “Get her out of here!” Sirus roared, his protective instincts turning everything red and he killed five more without even blinking. He leapt from the mecha and let out a pulse wave of raw energy. The twenty around him flattened instantly, dying when they were crushed against the stone like the oversized bugs they were.

  Peter made a run for Elena the same moment Anatoly saw her. Their eldest brother went white as a sheet and then his back arched, claws poking through his chest, but he sliced through the arm and kept fighting.

  Hundreds more of the monsters poured into the seat. Sirus breathed hard and sent another request for backup. He would take them all down with him if he had to. None would be left alive after he was through.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Veri

  Scyrian Family Seat

  Planet Scyria

  She glanced over her shoulder at the two hundred males and females following close behind. Veri had made an emergency landing when Sirus first called for aid. Asher wouldn’t be far behind, but she couldn’t wait for him.

  “Let’s move out. Scans show there are thousands of them in the seat. Eradicate what you can, but priority is the Lady Elena. Let’s go!”

  They ran by her as she made sure the warriors were properly positioned and the mechas flanked them all. They weren’t fast, but she’d made the hard call and landed on top of a building near the seat, crushing it underneath them. Thank the goddess no one had been inside.

  They were still two streets from the seat and she could hear the hair-raising howls.

  The reports from the fleet were frightening. Ships of glittering black were appearing out of nowhere, firing and then vanishing. The forces on the border couldn’t afford to retreat and so the Royal fleet had been forced to split up; evacuating Scyria while trying to defend the civilian starships.

  It had been an utter nightmare making it to Scyria through the Neprijat ships and ensuing battles. Veri had done it despite her lack of experience in a space battle. But that had been nothing compared to this.

  The creatures were a thousand times worse in the flesh than they were on the livestream – a thousand times worse even than the creatures that hid in the waters of Priea. But the people of Scyria were fighters like her own. Every time they found a pocket of survivors they sent them to the fleet ship coordinates.

  Slaughtering the monsters was easy enough, but Veri worried about running into an actual Neprijat warrior. These were just foot soldiers, mindless drones to take out the majority of the opposition.

  What had happened on Treon and Seprilles had been like this, and she suppressed her shudder as she activated the plasma on her double-sided war staff. The blades on either end were razor sharp and would slice through everything from rock to metal to bone.

  Veri flipped it around and took out four creatures at once, dipping down low and then coming up high, whirling it around her body as she twisted and turned. She danced through the horror, black festering blood coating everything as she cut her way to the seat with her warriors.

  The legion spread out wider and wider as they took down more.

  Veri kept her eye out for the Neprijat ships Sirus had warned them of after his return to the border. The actual Neprijat would look nothing like the creatures – and she had to be prepared, her helmet already up and blocking any persuasive brain waves.

  The gate to the seat was already open and she could hear the sounds of battle ahead of them.

  Something slammed into the ground in front of her and Veri took a step back, staff across her body as she waited for the smoke to clear.

  Veri couldn’t see anything as she tried to peer through the dust. Then there was a disturbance and someone burst through the smoke and she was barely able to register his presence before cycles of training kicked in and she parried, after slipping under his blade with her weapon, she lunged.

  He roared at her when her staff pierced his belly without hesitation. She bared her teeth and snarled at the ugliest male she’d ever set eyes on. He fell to his knees and looked up at her with a wide grin when she slid her blade free. Veri didn’t like the look of his black eyes, no iris or pupil – just endless black.

  “A warrioress – more cunning and bloodthirsty than the males,” he murmured as black blood filled his mouth and ran down his chin. “We’d hoped the rumors were true.” The sound of his voice rattled her to her core. It was death and decay – ash from a pyre of millions on the burning cold breeze.

  He slumped over as life left his body. She was only allowed a split second of horror as she stared down at the thing that still looked too much like her own people. Before she could think too much on it another nearly took off her head.

  The squad of Neprijat warriors were much smaller than the creatures they let loose to destroy, but still much larger than her.

  “Stop fighting,” the next ordered. His knowing smile turned to shock when she sliced through his neck and twisted.

  Thank the goddess Adelina had been right about the helmets. If the Neprijat warrior had been so sure he hadn’t even defended himself, Veri was frightened to think what they could make her do without the wavelength blocking tech.

  Five Neprijat were left and they were all male. Their long white hair and grey-white skin disturbed her when paired with their black, soulless eyes and sharp teeth. They were some strange hybrid human and for a split second she wondered what they’d been genetically altered with.

  Her double-bladed staff crackled through the air and the plasma sliced through flesh like butter. By the second warrior they realized she was immune to their suggestion. Her legion kept the skittering creatures back, protecting her from being disemboweled. But they pushed forward toward the Scyrian heir as she’d instructed, leaving her to deal with the Neprijat.

  Three warriors left. Veri had much worse odds before. She smiled and twirled the staff, adjusting her grip.

  “Warrioress – you think you can win this war because you’ll win this battle? We knew we would not leave this planet alive. We were willing to sacrifice everything to leave this planet without a ruler, without a future.” The feral grin showed so many sharp teeth. “And I know we’ve succeeded. So whatever you do to us does not matter. We’ve already won.”

  Horror and bile surged up her throat. Rage unlike anything she’d ever felt before burned inside her veins and she attacked, whirling in a graceful, brutal dance of death. When all three heads thudded to the ground she paused, breathing heavy.

  Sirus.

  Veri ran, worried when the sounds of battle ceased. There weren’t even the moans and cries of the dying and the mourning.

  She burst into the seat and had to climb over piles of bodies. Most were monsters but too many were their own soldiers, warriors of Scyria, the fleet, as well as innocents. Veri slipped on blood, trying not to think too much about what her hands were touching.

  After cycles fighting those creatures she was used to carnage – but one never really got used to the sight of dead children. It always ripped a hole in her chest she had to ignore until after the worst was over.

  When Veri reached the wide open space where one would most likely receive visitors and conduct tours of the capitol she stopped. It was drenched in blood – both black and red. An abandoned mecha drew her eye from all the carnage – so many of the mechas ripped to pieces and reduced to little more than scrap metal.

  Then she saw him, the large barbarian warrior lord. He was stooped over a body and Veri picked up the pace, checking the surroundings for any lingering creatures. “Sirus…” Then she saw and Veri stopped dead in her tracks, hand covering her mouth in horror.

  The eldest, Anatoly, was skewered, claws sticking up from his body and his dead lifeless eyes stared at nothing. In his arms was the pregnant Lady Elena. Anatoly held her close even in death. From the looks of it he’d fought with the claws still in his chest.

  It wasn’t the f
irst time she’d seen such an atrocity, and certainly not the first time she’d had to comfort a surviving family member, but it didn’t matter how many times she saw it. The devastation and loss on the one left alive was always the most heartbreaking.

  Lady Elena had been near the end of her pregnancy…there could still be a chance.

  Veri knelt beside Sirus and deactivated her helmet. Then she moved him aside. She had to pry Anatoly’s arms from his wife. All those cycles of field medicine and the occasional surprise – she’d done it before and she could do it again.

  She placed her ear against the round belly, ignoring the tears she felt sliding down her face. The body was still warm which was promising. She activated the tech on her suit and placed her palm on the belly of the dead Lady, shifting as she watched the head’s up display for signs of life.

  “There’s no use, Veri,” Sirus said, reaching for her. “Elena fell. The babe is most likely damaged.”

  “There’s a heartbeat,” she whispered. “Move!” Veri shoved him off and whipped out her knife. She kept one hand on the belly, feeling as she sliced, watching the display carefully so she didn’t cut into the child.

  Blood ran from the cut – it wasn’t too late.

  Veri deactivated her gloves, exposing her clean hands. This part she had to do by instinct alone. Slowly she slid her hands into the wide cut, feeling through the layers of muscle and fat and skin. She peeled it aside where she could. Then Veri felt that familiar slimy sac. She gripped the babe with both hands.

  “I need someone to push the belly towards me. It will help prevent further damage if I don’t have to pull as hard.” Instantly Peter obeyed and Veri felt the babe slide forward. She tugged just a bit more. “Sirus can you widen the cut for me?”

  The large male looked fascinated, disgusted, absolutely wrecked in his grief – but there was a shred of hope. He pulled the skin wider and with Peter pushing…Veri lifted the babe from the dead mother and more tears ran down her face as she tried not to think about how the child would never know its parents – born into a world of blood and gore and death.

  She cradled the unbroken sac and reached for her smallest knife, barely bigger than her pinky finger. One careful slash and she could see a foot. Veri tried not to get her hopes up. The babe still had to breathe.

  Slipping the sac away she checked the airways first. “Scan it,” she ordered. The words came out choked up and desperate. This was always the worst part – not knowing what the outcome of ripping open a mother would be. Violating the dead body always made her feel covered in slime, but on occasion…it was worth what it did to her soul.

  “It’s faint, but it’s there,” Peter said in wonder.

  Veri nodded and slapped the babe’s cheeks as gently as she could, but still nothing. Then she put her mouth over the nose and mouth and sucked out the mucous. She spat it out and flipped the babe, patting and rubbing its back.

  When the cry filled the empty, dead space she smiled in crushing relief, slumping as she cradled the babe to her chest, her tears marring its perfect little face. The tiny fists thrashed as the infant started to cry in earnest. Veri looked up and gave the Heir of Scyria to Sirus, carefully handing over the fragile thing.

  The look on the warrior’s face – wonder and disbelief mixed with so much pain. She would never forget it.

  “Thank you, Veri…I don’t think we’ll ever be able to repay you.”

  She shrugged and stood, giving them space as a family. Veri tried to put that mask of calm boredom back on, but it didn’t fit with the emotions she felt – the draw to the child.

  Peter and Sirus had lost everything. They deserved a moment alone.

  “There is nothing to repay,” Veri murmured, touching the babe’s face one last time. “I was simply lucky I’ve had to do it before.” Then she turned and started going through the bodies, ignoring the pressure building in her chest.

  “Veri!”

  She whirled around and Asher ran towards her. When he reached her he stopped and checked her from head to toe. “The blood isn’t mine,” Veri reassured him.

  The babe cried harder and she turned to watch Sirus give the tiny girl child to Peter who wrapped her up in the cleanest cloth he could find.

  “I cannot believe you did that,” Asher said, pulling her in close. “We all heard you over the cast.”

  The attention made her uncomfortable, adding to the pressure that was building inside her chest. If the dam burst Veri knew she wouldn’t be able to stop crying for hours and they still had a lot of work to do. “I was just doing what needed to be done. We’ve had to do the same before when a village was attacked. The Scyrian babe was lucky it was so close to term.”

  Veri tried not to remember the other times. Not all of them had been successful.

  “The countess?” Asher asked, inspecting the foyer as the remaining warriors cleared the seat and started going through the bodies.

  “She’s dead, along with everyone who didn’t evacuate in time,” Sirus reported, leaving his brother with the babe.

  Veri had lost family before. If she were better at giving comfort she would try, but that’s not what he needed. Sirus needed a direction, a purpose – a distraction.

  “The battle is still raging in the skies,” she said, pulling up the map of their forces. “I’m going to head up and do what I can. You and the forces in the seat clean up the surface.”

  Asher nodded. “We’ll finish the fight, and once it’s done we’ll come back to help you clean up and put your family to rest properly.”

  Sirus gave them a nod and immediately went to work.

  Veri wiped the blood from her hands off and reactivated the gloves. She grabbed her war staff and signaled her legion. “Let’s finish this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roxy

  The Jasmine

  Outer Rim

  The Draga Galaxy

  “Good Roxy!” Varan shouted, pushing her back as he blocked. “Faster! You won’t always be the strongest fighter!”

  Roxy wiped the sweat from her brow and attacked again. Still Varan anticipated her move and he stepped aside, her blow missing him completely.

  “I want you to be faster than me, now move!” Varan swatted her ass with the flat of his blade and it only served to infuriate her.

  Adelina chuckled from the corner of the room and she whirled around, pointing her blade at the princess. “Think you can do better?”

  That smirk only grew and the princess stood so smoothly Roxy had to blink to realize she’d moved.

  “I don’t think I can do better than you, but I just might be faster,” Adelina admitted.

  Nadyah grinned from her seat at the table, sipping her ice water. Roxy glared, but she kept track of the princess in her peripheral. That one was crafty.

  “Have you ever seen Adelina fight?” Nadyah asked, raising one brow in question.

  Roxy frowned, realizing that no, she never had. She honestly hadn’t thought the princess could fight. Even as the jewel thief Adelina didn’t need that particular skill, only the ability to make a quick escape.

  “Are you some prodigy?” Roxy asked, shifting the long knife in her grip, wiping the rest of the sweat from her face with her arm.

  “No,” Adelina admitted. “I am merely competent. Now try to catch me.” Her smile widened and Varan’s gaze grew hungry.

  Roxy waited, but Adelina didn’t move. She simply stood before her with her hands behind her back. So she lunged forward, faking for the soft belly and then changing direction so the dull knife would slide between the princess’s ribs if it was actually sharp enough to cut.

  Adelina hardly even moved but she was no longer standing before Roxy. Roxy couldn’t help the surprise she knew showed on her face, or the pleased smile. Again and again she attacked, but every time the princess slid or dodged or twirled away from her.

  She was quicker than lightning when she stepped forward and slashed at Roxy’s face with her claws extended and only a li
fetime of training saved her. She leaned so far back she nearly fell over and still she felt the whisper of those claws.

  With a practiced twist Roxy got out of Adelina’s range. She appraised the princess again and flipped the knife to her other hand.

  Adelina’s fighting style was like nothing she’d ever seen before. “Who trained you?”

  The grin dropped from the princess’s face. “Alpha mostly, before him my previous guard trained me. Then Nadyah did.”

  Ah, so a style only a select few would even recognize.

  “And Varan has taught me a few things over the cycles, and quite a bit during the last few days,” Adelina admitted with a grin. “But the speed is my own. When you are raised thinking you are the most submissive creature known to Draga you learn how to run away as quickly as possible. I was never going to be stronger, because a dominant with equal strength could still force me.” Adelina slashed again, so fast her hand was a blur, but Roxy knew what to look for this time.

  “Felix is the strongest and most submissive person I know,” Roxy countered.

  Then the air in the room changed. Adelina stepped into Roxy’s guard and that strange, dark jasmine filled her nose. “Yes,” Adelina agreed. “Now kneel.”

  The weight of Adelina’s dominance crashed down on Roxy and she hissed in a breath at the pain in her knees. Adelina’s hand wrapped around her neck, nails pricking the skin in warning. One move and she’d rip open Roxy’s throat.

  “It would be so easy to kill you and I’m currently only two levels above you in dominance. Imagine five.” Adelina released Roxy and took a step back. “You may rise if you can manage it.”

  Roxy fought the weight – heavy and suffocating as Adelina held her gaze, bearing down on her with that Draga dominance. She gave the princess a silent snarl and managed to get one foot underneath her. Roxy had never been as dominant as Varan, but she was closer to the orange blossom than she cared to admit.