Dragon Twins Bride: A Paranormal Menage Baby Romance

by Alyse Zaftig

  One of the other escaped orphans from Heritage House had given the dishes to Phuong, and she treasured them. Gifts meant much more from people who had nothing.

  Like so much that they owned, it should’ve been sold for money to buy food, but they kept it still.

  It was a reminder that even when they’d had their backs to the wall, when they’d owned only the clothing on their backs, that kindness had meant everything to them. They’d had to move on — their friend wasn’t in a position to help them indefinitely — but shelter for just a few nights had meant everything.

  Phuong tried not to worry about the cost of the Amila stalks — easily a day’s wage for the average hardworking member of the middle class. The wine…imported from off-planet, since they didn’t have the right land or climate for growing grapes for wine…was also absurdly expensive. The fresh greens could be an absurdly expensive price or just swiped from a garden.

  Xuan was incredibly short-sighted. What if he had been caught? She would’ve been left alone, trying to get him out of jail.

  “Set the table, please.”

  She looked at the dishes in her hands.

  “Why is there a candle on the table?”

  “It’s a vanilla-scented candle.”

  Xuan, as ever, dodged the real question.

  “We can’t live like this. You know that, right?”

  “Wine?”

  Xuan ignored reality. Phuong was their pessimist. He was the idea guy… some ideas were better than others.

  She looked at the spread on the dinner table.

  “Looks good,” she said, her shoulders slumped. The money was already gone. She couldn’t magically make it reappear.

  They sat down at the table, and, though they were paupers, ate like kings.

  5

  Drink

  Gahariet

  Gahariet and Olivier were sitting at a bar, but they were having a lot less fun than usual.

  “I didn’t bring you here to obsess about what the Yore seer told you. Seriously, just let it go. There are so many angles, and it’s probably not a legitimate prophecy. We’re out to have fun. So drink.”

  Gahariet nudged a beer towards Olivier.

  “But what if it’s real?”

  “We’ve chased this around and around. Some of the Yore like to tug our strings, because they still resent our invasion of their planet. They don’t have much power, so they do what they can to mess with us.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “True, some of them are real seers. But ever since our mother died, you’ve been too superstitious. Even when the seer actually can see the future, it can be changed with your choices today. Stop worrying and just chill.”

  Olivier looked up and met Gahariet’s eyes, one corner of his mouth creasing in a lopsided smile.

  “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

  Olivier was the more free-spirited, emotional one, while Gahariet was the steadier of the two, the boring one, the responsible one.

  “Never,” Olivier admitted.

  “You don’t have control over what your future brings, so let’s just hang out. Let’s go downstairs.”

  Olivier got to his feet. Gahariet followed him down a short flight of stairs to the secret lounge.

  Normal people came to the bar and had a great time. Below the festivities, there was another level for the nobility and royalty.

  Down there, the wine was free. It was cheap in comparison to the membership fee to be let into a place that most people didn’t even know existed.

  It could be called a gentlemen’s club, Gahariet supposed, but the nobility who came weren’t on their best behavior inside. They weren’t gentlemen.

  Olivier and Gahariet pushed their way through the crowd that had amassed next to one of the stages to go to a far corner, where there was a naked girl serving wine. Olivier and Gahariet grabbed a glass of wine each while they watched the show.

  Gahariet watched the nobility around the stage. Their eyes were looking at the naked girls like they were a nice piece of steak, not like they were sentient beings. Gahariet didn’t like it. The club was a place where they didn’t have to play by the rules. Gahariet didn’t want to stick around. He drained his glass.

  “I want to go home.”

  “Home? But we just got here.”

  Gahariet sighed internally. He’d brought his brother here to watch the girls, it was true, and his brother wasn’t worrying about the prophecy anymore.

  “We’ll stay for a few more drinks.”

  Olivier nodded and got to his feet to get even closer to the stage. There was a woman on her hands and knees crawling near the edge. Anonymous male hands were tucking dollar bills into the straps of her shoes, because she wasn’t wearing anything else..

  Gahariet felt a flood of liquid hit him, getting his pants soaking wet.

  “I’m so sorry,” one of the naked girls gasped. “I didn’t mean to spill wine all over you.”

  She had a glass of wine in her hand. Gahariet looked down at himself. It was red wine. The clothes were a total loss.

  “I guess I should go home.”

  Gahariet was actually glad that he had a legitimate reason to get out of this den of sin. He’d loved it when he was young, but he was just a little more mature now. He wanted more, a lot more.

  Maybe it was because he didn’t live in the moment quite as much as his brother, but he wanted to get started on putting together a family and producing heirs for the throne. He knew his duty.

  Sure, he had a pretty enough face, and there were plenty of Draka nobles who would love to be princesses. But he’d met all of them and grown up with every one; he knew that he could never marry any of them.

  He knew, that when he got old, they’d have to send to their home world for a girl who was fertile. He’d never find the right woman here.

  “We have a clothes dryer in the back, if you’d like to come with me.”

  In a flash of light, Gahariet understood why she’d spilled wine on him. She wanted to get him naked. There were back room services that paid a lot more than working on the club’s stage.

  “No, thanks. I’ll just go home.”

  He walked past her to get his twin, who was enjoying himself right by the stage…a little too much.

  He yanked Olivier’s collar.

  “Come on. We’re going home.”

  “But I was just…” Olivier’s eyes went to Gahariet’s pants.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Wine spill.”

  “Too far gone, brother? Can’t hold your liquor?”

  Gahariet slapped Olivier’s arm. “Girl.”

  “Fine.”

  Olivier shook Gahariet off before making his way to the club’s exit.

  Gahariet was glad to go back to an area where the women were clothed. He hoped that the Yore women in that club were very well compensated.

  They got into their private levi-car, which was in the valet parking area, before they came home. Gahariet was careful to sit on the edge of the seat. They were more than wealthy enough to have two levi-cars, but their father was tight with his money. There was only one for the two of them, and Gahariet didn’t want to get red wine on the seats. They’d be able to get it out of course, but they wouldn’t be able to escape their father’s lecture about wastefulness.

  Gahariet sighed. Olivier’s body was loose and relaxed. His head was back and he looked about twenty seconds away from sleep.

  Gahariet, on the other hand, was wide awake. Funny how chilled wine in your pants kept you alert.

  Soon, their levi-car was taking them to their door. It came to a stop outside of their home. Gahariet shook Olivier’s shoulder. Olivier woke up enough to shuffle from the levi-car. He wasn’t too steady on his feet. Gahariet realized that Olivier must’ve had more to drink in the brief time that they’d been apart.

  “How much did you have?”

  “Couple body shots,” Olivier slurred. “Pretty girl.”

 
; Gahariet just shook his head. “You’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow.”

  “Be fine,” Olivier protested. “Gotta live.”

  “Let me get you back into your suite.”

  Gahariet put his hand on Olivier’s upper arm and guided him into his own room, where he flopped on the bed.

  Gahariet touched the glow pad to turn off Olivier’s lights. The rest was up to him.

  Gahariet went into his own room.

  As hard as he had worked to convince Olivier that the prophecy was a stupid sham, it was definitely possible that something was coming. Something big. Something that they didn’t understand.

  Gahariet didn’t like not knowing what was happening. But he’d drunk just enough alcohol to make his eyelids heavy, so he fell asleep in his bed, still dressed in his damp pants.

  6

  Perfect Dress

  Phuong

  Phuong was sweating, but it wasn’t because of the heat. She’d lived here her entire life. The Draka were cold-blooded, and they could only survive in warm climates or ones that were artificially kept warm.

  The Insa coins in her pocket were heavy. Xuan wanted her to buy the perfect dress, but she felt like she had a spotlight on her as she walked through the Draka boutique row.

  There were immaculately beautiful and very wealthy ladies walking around with their friends.

  Phuong stood out because she was walking around solo. Her clothes didn’t cost what a middle-class family paid for food for a year.

  The Draka were all about deeply individual clothing; Phuong had mass-produced beige clothing that was made for the Yore. Anyone could see at a glance who was part of the upper class and who was part of the working class.

  She’d never been in this part of the city. It wasn’t meant for people like her. The Draka nobility shopped here.

  Outside of the city, the wilderness with unseen wild beasts went right to the city walls. And while she wasn’t keen on meeting any of the wild beasts that she could hear calling at night, she’d rather take her chances out there than right here in the heart of the Draka section.

  Phuong wiped her forehead and tried to ignore the people staring at her. She walked as quickly as she could as she made her way into Dalshan’s Dressing Hall.

  The sound of the bells chiming when she opened the door startled her, making her widen her eyes. But she kept her chin up, as if she belonged here. Like her brother said, you have to believe it to achieve it.

  A store clerk came up to her.

  “Can I help you?” The store clerk was a stunning Yore girl with waist-length hair and huge eyes.

  Phuong watched her sweep her eyes up and down Phuong, as if she were something a little strange.

  But the moment passed. “How can I help you?” she repeated, smiling kindly at Phuong.

  Phuong knew that this shop assistant couldn’t possibly be used to Yore coming in, but there was a moment of solidarity — two Yore women in a Draka-dominated world.

  “I need a dress,” she said. “A nice dress?”

  The shop assistant, who was wearing a name tag that said that her name was Trang, brought her to another section of the store.

  “We keep some dresses from last season back here. It might be better for your budget.”

  “No,” Phuong said immediately. “I need the perfect dress.” Phuong dug into her pocket for her money. She showed a fistful of the Insa coins to the store clerk.

  Trang’s jaw dropped when she saw the shiny coins.

  “What’s your upper budget?”

  “I’ll know which dress I want when I see it.”

  Trang took her to the front of the store.

  “All of our newer dresses are up front.”

  Trang took several dresses off the rack.

  The first one was a very bright orange with extremely deep cleavage and huge pockets at the hips.

  “I don’t think that would be very flattering.”

  The next one was a black dress with turquoise and purple flowers all over it.

  “This one looks like it would fit you.”

  Phuong felt very self-conscious about her curves. Even though they scrabbled for food, somehow her body was still pretty curvaceous. Besides, she wasn’t sure about mixing turquoise and purple.

  “I think that this dress is pretty, but I’m looking for something spectacular. Something that’ll make me a knockout.”

  “How about this one?”

  Trang had pulled off a dress with lightly glowing mauve, indigo, and light pink flowers all over the top with a simple black skirt. The flower petals glowed gently under the filmy over gown.

  “It’s wonderful,” Phuong breathed softly.

  “Let’s have you try it on, shall we?”

  It was a wrap dress, so Phuong pulled the sash through the hole and then tied the whole thing together.

  “Come out and show me,” Trang called.

  Phuong made a face at herself in the mirror before coming out.

  “I think that it shows too much cleavage.”

  “No, I think that’s the perfect amount. You wanted to be a knockout, right? Turn towards this mirror.” Trang was pointing at a three-part mirror.

  “I already…” Phuong was speechless when she looked at herself from three angles.

  “Oh wow.”

  “Yeah. This dress looks like it was made for you.”

  Somehow, the dress was alluring without being overly revealing. Yes, you could clearly see the shadow between her breasts, but every bit of the solid under gown covered her up.

  “I’ll take it,” Phuong decided. “How much?”

  Trang named a price that made Phuong wince. This job better be worth it.

  Phuong shelled out the Insa coins, and Trang took out a dress.

  “I can wrap it in tissue paper for you.”

  “No, I want to wear it out of the store.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll give you a bag for the clothes that you’re wearing right now.” Without being told, Trang must have understood how much Phuong felt like a fish out of water.

  Phuong went back into the dressing room to get her clothes. Trang was waiting outside with the bag, where Phuong put all of her clothes.

  “Thank you very much for your help,” Phuong told Trang. “I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime,” Trang said warmly. “I hope this dress works for you.”

  Phuong’s eyes glowed silver as Phuong nudged her into forgetting what had happened. At least she’d had the money to pay this time. Trang’s eyes echoed the silver in Phuong’s eyes before she turned away as if Phuong wasn’t even there.

  The bells chimed as Phuong pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunshine.

  This time, nobody gave her a second glance. There were plenty of beautiful Yore wives of Draka men, and dressed in her new clothes, she looked just like one.

  Phuong walked back towards the aquarium, determined to do the best that she could.

  When she got there, her brother opened the hatch of their den.

  He let out a low whistle.

  “Good job, Phuong. I think that this’ll knock them dead.”

  “I hope so.” Phuong touched the soft fabric of the black skirt. “I mesmerized the store clerk into forgetting me.”

  “Good. Soon, we’re going to have so many credits that this dress will look like it was purchased second hand. You look beautiful, by the way.”

  Xuan didn’t compliment her very much, and Phuong tried not to cry. There weren’t very many moments of joy in their lives, not when they were poor and on the run. Xuan tried to fix it by spending money they couldn’t afford to, and for once, he’d done something for Phuong that made her feel happy.

  “I know. I don’t feel like a cafard in this dress.” The upper classes called the lower classes, the common Yore, roaches. It was so ingrained in the culture that even the Yore used it to refer to themselves. “I don’t think that they’ll treat me like I’m the low-born Yore that I am.”


  “We might be low-born, but we’re not roaches. It’s not our place.”

  “We can’t be sure that we’re low-born, honestly. We have no idea where we came from.”

  “Well, once we have the money for our surgeries, everything will be clear. Just one more job, and everything will be fine.”

  7

  Run

  Olivier

  “I’m going to go insane if I read another form or voting scroll.” Olivier rubbed his eyes. He was tired.

  Gahariet leaned back in his chair and looked right at Olivier.

  “We can finish up for the day.”

  “I need to run.”

  “I’m starving.”

  “Let’s grab something from the kitchen.”

  They closed their desks and headed towards the kitchen, which was the hub of activity in their home.

  There was a roast pig that was cooling on a rack. There were so many people in the kitchen that they were seen but ignored. Feeding all of them was a full-time task for quite a few people.

  Olivier pulled a knife out of a chopping block and began cutting chunks of the roast pig and tossing them into a wooden bowl.

  The two of them snuck out of the kitchen and ate the chunks of pork with their fingers, getting grease all over themselves.

  Gahariet, ever responsible, made sure that the wooden bowl made its way back into the busy kitchen.

  They washed their hands in a sink before disappearing. Their father made dinner served buffet-style, and people came in and out as they liked. They wouldn’t be missed.

  They had clothing in the stable that they used when they went running. They took off their official uniforms, the ones that they wore to look like Draka princes.

  Their running clothes were contraband, but it was a secret that their hostlers were happy to keep. The stable master was old, and he had been the one to teach the boys to ride when they were younger. Horses and dragons mixed very cautiously; it required quite a bit of sensitivity. Olivier had, of course, taken longer to ride than perfect Gahariet. He’d been really frustrated when the stable master had kept him only mucking out his horse’s stall for months after Gahariet was allowed to ride his horse.