by Cynthia Sax
“It was a mistake, child.” He sat on the hard stone, setting her on his lap, surrounding her with his scale-covered form. “I won’t make it again.”
If others viewing her as a boy made her feel safer, he’d maintain that illusion. Her well-being, both emotional and physical, was his priority.
He rubbed her arms, her legs, relaying his heat to her. She calmed. His Drache did also, content to be touching her.
“The boy is a thief.” Vicuska stared at them, her top lip curled in disgust. “He stole my memory chip.” She must not have noticed his error. “If he hadn’t taken it, I would have left the settlement at sunrise. The other Rebels would still be alive.”
“The Humanoid Alliance doesn’t leave any enemies alive.” He knew that from the stories the warriors at the Refuge had told him. “And they’re watching the main landing pad.” That information had been sourced from his mate. “If you had accessed your ship, they would have blown it out of the sky.”
“The boy stole from me.” Vicuska grumbled under her breath. “I don’t trust him.”
Faylee had stolen from her. He couldn’t argue with that statement. “I trust the child.”
His mate had her own code of honor, one he was beginning to understand and appreciate. He would trust her with his life.
Vicuska thought differently, the Rebel agent muttering about having to sleep with her eyes open while she took inventory of her remaining weapons.
Dare tidied his mate with the cleaning cloth, removing the grime, exposing her soft brown skin. Faylee didn’t relax, her gaze pinned on the other female.
His Drache also viewed Vicuska as a threat. It paced inside him, bristling.
He sighed. It would be a long planet rotation.
***
Endless moments later, Dare’s tiny mate was curled up in his lap, feigning sleep, and the Rebel agent was eyeing him like he was the last nourishment bar on the planet.
Vicuska reclined on her side, monopolizing the makeshift sleeping support. Despite the chill in the air, her flight suit was partially unfastened, the tops of her pale breasts visible.
Dare wished she’d put them away. He wasn’t interested in anyone other than Faylee and they annoyed his Drache. The beast viewed the display as aggression against his mate. His claws pricked at his skin.
“Are all Dracheons as handsome as you are?” Vicuska, not knowing how close she was to being decapitated, traced her lips with her fingertips. “All tall and broad and silver-scaled?”
“Silver scales are rare.” Which meant other Dracheons paid more attention to him, noting his failures, his lack of control. They’d pay more attention to Faylee also. She was jaw-droppingly beautiful.
He ruffled her hair, enjoying its softness, the fine black strands slipping through his fingers. If they were alone, he’d lick her all over, starting at the top of her head and ending at the tip of her toes.
“No other agent has made it to the Refuge alive.” They weren’t alone. Vicuska was still chattering. “All we might have is this rest cycle.”
“I didn’t escort those other agents.” Dare gazed down at Faylee. “We’ll make it to the Refuge alive.” He would protect his mate.
Faylee pressed her face into his palm as he drifted his hands over her cheek. The movement was slight, would be undetectable to the Rebel agent watching them, but he felt it, her response warming his soul.
She wanted his touch and he wanted her. He swirled circles into her soft skin with his fingertips. The bruise on her jaw was fading. Her eyelashes fluttered. Her lips curled upward.
His beast was enthralled. His humanoid side couldn’t look away. She was so exquisite, so—
“I can give you everything you’re now wanting from the boy.” Vicuska’s interruptions aggravated his Drache. Her words disturbed all of him. “You can use me with no guilt.”
The Rebel agent had seen his desire for Faylee, believed her to be a young boy. She thought he was lusting after a child. Dare’s face heated.
She viewed him as being the lowest type of creature, a grown warrior who preyed upon the helpless, the innocent. In her eyes, he had no honor.
And he couldn’t correct her wrong impression, couldn’t defend himself.
He’d promised his mate he’d keep her secret. Faylee’s trust was worth more to him than a stranger’s good opinion.
“Dracheons are loyal to their fated mates.” That was all he could say. It sounded like a feeble defense even to his own ears.
“He’s a kid, Dare.” Disgust colored Vicuska’s voice. “Leave him alone and use me instead.”
“You want to be used by me?” What type of female desired the sexual predator she believed him to be?
“No, I don’t want to be used by you.” The Rebel agent sat upright. “But I would make that sacrifice to shield the boy from your attentions. I’m fighting the Humanoid Alliance because I wish to stop abuse like this.”
Her accusations jabbed into his soul. For the longest time, all he had was his integrity. Having it questioned hurt him…greatly.
“How many solar cycles does the boy have—ten?” Vicuska waved her hands, the motion agitating his beast. “He doesn’t know right from wrong. You do and you know what you’re doing to him is wrong.”
He wasn’t doing anything to the boy because they weren’t alone.
“You have no honor, warrior.” The Rebel agent leaned forward. “If I didn’t need your help, I would—”
“Shut up.” Faylee yelled, her voice, loud and clearly feminine, startling both of them. “You’re on a secret mission.” She lifted her head and glowered at Vicuska. “And the walls have ears.”
The Rebel agent’s jaw dropped. “Y-You’re female.”
His mate had exposed her identity…for him, to defend his integrity. Dare’s chest heated. And frag, she was fierce, his beast bellowing its approval.
“Yes, I’m a grown female.” Faylee jumped out of his lap, her body vibrating with emotion, her eyes flashing. “He’s a Dracheon warrior.” She pointed at him and he straightened. “A being universe-renowned for honor. And you’re incompetent.”
Vicuska’s face turned red. “I was chosen for this mission.” She stood also. “They must—”
“They must not have been able to convince anyone else to take it.” His tiny mate made her opinion of the Rebel agent’s skills known. “Because if it weren’t for Dare—the male you criticized—you’d be dead.” She slammed her clenched fists against her hips and stared up at her much taller opponent. “You’re a terrible agent.”
The two of them glared at each other. Vicuska said nothing.
Moments passed.
The female sighed. “I am a terrible agent, aren’t I?” Her shoulders rounded. “I heard about this opportunity and I was tired of making supply runs, flying ships back and forth and I thought, ‘How hard could it be?’”
It was Dare’s turn to stare. “Your predecessors died.”
“I didn’t find that out until I had already agreed to the mission.” Vicuska blew out her breath. “It explained the lack of volunteers.” Her lips twisted. “I worked so hard on my disguise. I thought it was good.”
“It wasn’t.” Faylee’s response was blunt. “I knew you were a Rebel the moment I saw you.”
“Shit.” Vicuska plunked her ass on the stone floor. “And you would be the expert on disguises.” Her smile was sheepish. “I thought you were a boy.”
“Now you know I’m not a boy.” Faylee stepped closer to Dare. “Everyone knows that.” She gulped air, her face growing pale. “Everyone.”
The fear in her voice caused his beast to pace.
“You’re safe, mate.” He drew her to him. “I’ll protect you.” He nuzzled against her neck, seeking to comfort her.
“There’s a reason Three-eyed Mak calls females cunts,” she whispered. “Pleasure worker is the only role for females living in the caves. They…they don’t last long.”
“No one will touch you.” His voice deepened,
his Drache close to the surface. “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
“I don’t know how to survive as a female.” She covered his hands with hers, that small act of trust calming him. “If I can survive. The caves—”
“We’re leaving the caves.” He reminded her. “There are a variety of roles for females in the Refuge…and on Dracheon.”
She wouldn’t ever be alone. He would remain by her side, ensuring she had nourishment bars, beverage, a place to live. His mate wouldn’t want for anything.
“There are a variety of roles?” Her face brightened. “Do they have female thieves?”
She wanted to continue that dangerous profession. He swallowed his groan. “They don’t have thieves on Dracheon.” The reprimand for stealing was death.
“But they do have thieves in the Refuge.” His clever mate grasped what he hadn’t said.
“There are other roles.” He would steer her toward one that was less likely to incur Kralj’s wrath.
She wrinkled her nose. “I have no other skills.”
“Are we stealing a ship?” Vicuska broke into their semi-private conversation. “Is that why we have a thief on our team?”
“That thief is my mate.” He would always have her on his team. “And we haven’t yet determined how we’re sourcing a ship.” Dare disliked having to rely upon Three-eyed Mak for that crucial part of the plan. “We should rest.” That was all they could do at the moment. “We’ll need our energy for the next planet rotation.”
“Do you and your mate require privacy?” The Rebel agent grinned. “I could turn my back, stare at the wall.”
He gazed down at Faylee. Her face was pink. The walls had ears, she’d said. They might be betrayed, might die.
But bonding with her might result in death also. Both of them could die. Because if he lost control and killed his tiny mate, that would be the end of him. He wouldn’t survive that experience.
They had to wait until they reached Kralj’s terrain.
“We’ll be alone once we reach the Refuge.” That decision was the right one.
The disappointment reflecting in his female’s eyes said she didn’t agree.
Chapter Eight
Vicuska and Dare had criticized her for being a thief, yet, at sunrise, they munched happily on the nourishment bars she’d stolen.
They washed the flattened treats down with the beverage Three-eyed Mak had a boy deliver to them. That precious though slightly cloudy liquid was likely pilfered also.
Faylee kept her opinions to herself. She’d said enough over the past planet rotation. By now, every cave dweller in Mirage must know she was female.
She felt exposed, vulnerable. Without thinking, she shifted closer to Dare, pressing her body against his hard muscle.
Despite his talk of fated mates and undying loyalty, he would leave her. He’d have to. She didn’t fit into his fancy-arse world.
Her fingers curled around the memory chip she’d stolen back from the Rebel agent. She was a thief, couldn’t stop stealing. It was her only skill, her sole means of earning credits, of feeding herself.
It was all she’d ever known.
Her Dracheon warrior had the luxury of always acting with honor. He was big and strong and she would borrow his protection while she learned how to operate in the Refuge. Then they would part.
Forever.
She pushed her pain aside. They were together now. She had to focus on that.
Because even this moment with Dare wasn’t guaranteed. Boots pounded against stone and she flinched.
Three-eyed Mak entered the cavern. His fists were already clenched. That didn’t bode well for the confrontation or for her.
“Ye set on dyin’, boy?” He settled his gaze on her. “Boys be bellyachin’ ‘bout yer squawkin’.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” She bowed her head. The Rebel agent had questioned Dare’s integrity, had implied he didn’t have honor. She couldn’t remain silent.
Three-eyed Mak reached out his right hand. She braced herself for pain.
“Do not touch her.” Dare growled, moving closer to her.
Her former boss lowered his hand. “Look at me, boy.”
She met his gaze.
Three-eyed Mak stared at her for one seemingly endless moment. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, standing before her as though he was transfixed by what he saw.
“Fuck.” His eyes softened. “Ye look like her.”
She barely heard his words, didn’t know what they meant. Her? Was he referring to her mother? Three-eyed Mak never talked about the past, about how he’d found her. Had he known her parents?
The male shook himself and scowled. “I want ye ’n the fancy arses gone.” He scanned the cavern. “Stinky Jim be waitin’ with his ship at the north entrance. It be yers.”
They had a ship. Faylee’s shoulders lowered. She knew the vessel. It was a rust bucket but it should get them to the Refuge. “Thank you, sir.”
Three-eyed Mak’s gaze returned to her. “Stinky Jim ain’t a fancy arse.”
“I understand, sir.” They would have to look like him to get through the Humanoid Alliance stopping points.
“They ain’t better than us.” He jerked his head toward Dare. “Remember that, boy.”
“I will, sir.” She disagreed. Dare and Vicuska were better beings than she was. But she would keep his words in mind.
Her former boss took a long, thorough look at her, his expression unreadable.
“Get, boy.” His voice was gruff.
He turned and left without another word.
The being she had known for twenty-one solar cycles, the only constant in her lonely life, was gone. She didn’t know why she thought the good-bye would be more momentous. That wasn’t Three-eyed Mak’s way.
“What do you know about Stinky Jim’s ship?” Dare placed his hands on her shoulders, the contact comforting her.
She faced him. “It’s a small hauler. The cargo is refuse.” The ship made the caves seem luxurious. “I can fly it.”
“Flying is what I do,” Vicuska said proudly.
“The captain will be communicating with the Humanoid Alliance.” Faylee bent over, scooped some guck off the cavern floor, smeared it over her cloth-covered chest. “Ye ain’t Stinky Jim. Ye be fancy arses.” She mimicked Three-eyed Mak’s way of speaking. “There’s space for one other being in the front of the ship. The third being will have to travel in the back, under the refuse.”
“I’m not leaving your side.” Dare rubbed dirt over his face.
She preferred he was the being beside her also. “They’ll be looking for a Dracheon with silver scales.”
His forehead furrowed. “I can appear human…if I concentrate.”
He gazed at the cavern’s rock wall, jutting his jaw, clenching his fingers into fists. His eyes glazed over. His breathing leveled. His scales receded.
Faylee preferred his shiny silver scales but he did appear human. He would fool the Humanoid Alliance yes-males.
Her warrior also looked as though his mind was somewhere else.
“Are you with us?” She peered up at him.
He didn’t answer her. The flames in his eyes were spookily low.
Fear flowed down her spine, chilling her to the bone. “Dare.” She touched his arm.
He jerked. Silver scales covered his tanned skin. The fire in his eyes returned. A rumble came from his throat. “Mate?”
“I thought I lost you there for a moment.” She smiled at him, relieved.
“A normal Dracheon can control his beast easily.” He didn’t meet her gaze. “It takes everything I have. I can’t speak, can’t move, can’t be touched.”
“That’s fine.” She could work with those limitations. “It’s better that you don’t speak.” No low-credit being talked like him. “Or move.” His body language screamed threat, declared him to be a predator at the top of the food chain. “If I need you to release your beast”—if something went wrong and the situation became dan
gerous—“I’ll touch your arm like I just did. You can then kill everyone.”
He grinned. “I’m very good at that.”
“What do I do?” Vicuska asked. The Rebel agent was reluctantly coating herself with grime, her perfect nose wrinkling.
“When we reach the stopping points, you won’t move or speak either.” She viewed the female more like their mission than part of the team. “You’ll remain still in the back of the hauler, refuse layered on top of you.”
“That part of a hauler isn’t climate-controlled.” Dare surprised her by sharing. “It’ll be hot. Carry a container of beverage.”
“Gotcha.” Vicuska slid a container between her big breasts.
Faylee lifted her eyebrows and looked at her male. How did he know so much about haulers?
“I’ve searched ships arriving at the Refuge,” he explained.
“Then why am I organizing this part of the mission?” Her lips twisted. He had been in the enemy’s role, would have insights about how they thought.
“You know how to move from place to place undetected.” Her Dracheon warrior didn’t appear to care if she took the lead. “Vicuska, cover your hair also.”
That was good advice. The Humanoid Alliance would be searching for a red-haired human female, might spot the light-catching strands through the garbage.
They splashed muck on themselves and on each other. Faylee rubbed her dirty hands over Dare’s back, savoring the power in his form, the hardness of his muscles. The scales he’d lost during the battle with the Humanoid Alliance had already been replaced.
Her male threaded his fingers through her hair, spiking some of the strands, the dirt stiffening them. He showed no signs he was repulsed by the act, by the smell. His eyes were lit with flames. He tapped her nose with a dirty finger and she blinked.
“Are we ready?” Her voice was breathy. She wanted him, enjoyed the touching.
“We’re almost ready.” He gazed down at her. “Vicuska, turn around.”
Faylee’s body hummed with anticipation. “We don’t have time to—”
His lips captured hers, silencing her words, redirecting her thoughts to him, only him. They had time for a kiss, perhaps more.
She grasped his shoulders and leaned into his fit form. He ravished her mouth, their tongues tumbling, twining, his heat branding her, marking her as his.