by Lili Zander
“Enough.” Vulrux steps between the two of us, his voice calm. “Our arguments do not help Harper Boyd.”
He’s right. Unfortunately, we’re out of ideas. Vulrux has tried every medicinal herb in his stores on the human woman. Sofia Menendez has given her drugs from her meager supplies. Nothing has revived our mate.
Slowly, the others trickle away. I stay where I am, ignoring Arax’s thoughtful stare. When I’m alone with Harper Boyd, I lay my hand over hers. The woman’s flesh is hot to the touch, her skin the color of an angry sea. The toxin lingers in her blood, but unlike the mild venom of the kilpei plant, it can’t be sucked out.
When Vulrux had carried her up the cliffs on his back, unwilling to entrust the precious human to any of the others, our mate had been wearing the strange clothing of her people, a dark blue garment that clung to her body, highlighting every curve. Now, she’s got a towel draped over her, the thin silvery fabric made from the sturdy webs spun by the ahuma, and nothing else. The dragon inside me purrs at the thought of her nakedness and demands I complete the mating bond, but I am Zoraken, and I have honor. This woman is more than a soft body. She is a person with thoughts and wishes of her own, and whatever her dreams of her future were, I’m sure they didn’t involve being stranded on an alien planet and dying from a poisonous fungus.
“Harper Boyd,” I say softly. “I was a soldier of the Empire. I killed in the name of the High Emperor, and though the mind-wipes prevent me from remembering everything, I know that my soul is stained and tattered.” I take a deep breath. “The Zoraken do not take mates. We do not have families. We die in battle, and I have no cause to expect more.”
Yet I do.
She stirs in her sleep, and I tense, hoping against hope that she will wake. Vulrux must sense her movement because he reappears at her bedside. His shoulders slump when he realizes that she’s still unconscious. “Nothing?” he asks me.
I shake my head.
“The first time,” he says quietly, “I was young. I had lost before I knew what loss was. This time—” His voice trails off.
I seldom let my thoughts wander to the time I was held captive by the scientists. There was a woman there, but the dragon within me hadn’t recognized her as my mate. Not until Vulrux had shown up to complete the triad.
It was the same way when Vulrux had set this human woman down on his bed. The instant the three of us were in the same room, the golden bonds had brightened, but they’d faded almost immediately.
Harper Boyd is dying.
“You are both fools.” A harsh voice interrupts us. I look up to see one of the scientists in the doorway. Raiht’vi.
Every time I look at the white-clad woman, animosity rises in my blood. I’ve searched my memories—those still left to me after repeated mind-wipes—and I can’t recollect her. Then again, the images in my mind are fragmented, a result of the cocktail of drugs that have been forced into me from the time I was conscripted.
“What do you mean?” Vulrux’s voice is mild, but I sense the tautly stretched anger underneath.
“You think with your hearts,” she snaps, moving into the room. Her steps are slow, and her face contorts in pain as she moves. She is still healing from her wounds, but that doesn’t stop her from glaring at us. “Try using your minds instead.”
“You speak in riddles,” I say icily. “Explain.”
“Before the Zoraken, there were the Draekons,” she replies. “They were the perfect soldier race. They were made to be invulnerable.” She stares at me with a strange expression on her face. “You are Draekon, soldier. The poisons on this world cannot harm you. Pass that immunity on to your mate.”
Our heads snap up in shock at her words. “How do you know that Harper Boyd is our mate?” Vulrux asks, his hands clenching into fists. “No one else knows.”
“Many have eyes and do not see.”
I am a soldier of the Empire. I know how to persuade Raiht’vi to part with her secrets, but I doubt that the Firstborn will give us permission to torture the scientist. Besides, even though her words are riddled with mystery, she’s telling us something important. “What immunity? We cannot resist the fungus any more than the humans can. Rorix was in a coma for six months.”
She huffs impatiently. “The Draekons adapt. If Rorix were to brush against the same fungus today, it would give him nothing other than a rash. His immunity will have passed onto you.”
My spine prickles with unease. “I don’t trust you. I will not risk hurting our mate.”
“Her words make sense.” The human healer, Sofia Menendez stands in the doorway. I wonder how long she’s been there. In normal times, I would have heard her approach before she got near, but I’m distracted by the lovely golden-haired woman next to me, her breathing labored as she struggles to live. “In essence, that’s how vaccines work on Earth. I think we should try it.”
“No.” Vulrux’s lips tighten. “I agree with Dennox. My experience tells me that scientists are not to be trusted.”
Raiht’vi moves swiftly. Before I can react, she grabs Vulrux’s knife from his belt and slices a deep cut in Harper Boyd’s palm. Sofia shrieks as red blood gushes out from the wound. “Are you insane?” the human healer says angrily. “What have you done?”
Raiht’vi faces her squarely. “The human doesn’t have time for your endless debates,” she snarls. She turns to the two of us. “Act now to save your mate, Draekon. Let your blood mingle with hers.”
My jaw tightens. “If this fails,” I promise the crimson-haired scientist, “I will see you dead of my own hands.”
She doesn’t reply. She grabs the human healer by the hand, and half-drags, half-pushes her from the room. With sick fear in my heart, I pull my knife out and slice a cut in my palm. Vulrux does the same. The two of us take Harper’s hand in ours. Our bright blue blood mingles with her rich red.
We wait. The moments tick by. Harper Boyd’s breathing stutters and seems to cease, and time comes to a halt. I’m ready to find the scientist, wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze when Vulrux’s voice stops me. “Wait.”
Golden threads appear in my mind’s eye, chains that bind Vulrux and me to the woman on the bed. As we hold her hand, the bonds strengthen. The deep blue poison in Harper Boyd’s blood recedes, and her skin regains a pinkish hue. Her eyelashes flutter.
The beast within me exults. Our mate lives, it growls in triumph. As soon as she wakes, we will claim her.
But the beast doesn’t rule me. The man does. And the man has learned that the mate-bond brings only pain.
2
Harper:
When I open my eyes, several realizations sweep over me, each one more disconcerting than the next.
I have no idea where I am.
Two hot, naked-to-the-waist guys are in the room with me. They’re holding my hand in theirs, and as I watch, drops of blue blood spill on the silver sheet.
And I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing.
I’m not sure if I should freak out or part my legs for the hunks.
I settle for neither. Drama isn’t really my style, and though I have nothing against hook-up culture, if I’m going to put out, I’d like a meal and some attempt at conversation first. In a world where courtship has been replaced by swipe-rights, that makes me high-maintenance.
Hang on, Harper. Two strange guys are holding your hand, their blood is freaking blue, and you’re thinking about Tinder?
The memories slowly start to return. Alien spaceship. Crash landing. Injured Zorahns leaking blue blood. Green and blue moons, pink skies.
Viola, Ryanna, Sofia, and I had set out to find food and water so we could survive the next week until the Zorahns used their superior technology and rescued us. We were walking toward Penis Mountain, but I’d tripped, and some orange goo had tried to kill me.
Since I’m not dead, I guess I’ve been rescued and treated, and unless blue blood is super-common in the galaxy, the two men at my side must be Zorahn.
I look
around covertly. I thought Zoraht would be filled with sleek metal and glass towers and little airships buzzing about in the sky. Probably because I read too much science-fiction as a kid. This room isn’t very high-tech. The texture of the walls looks like wood, though the colors—pink, green, and black—remind me that I’m not on Earth. The effect is a little psychedelic. Groovy, baby.
The two Zorahn aren’t looking at my face; their attention is focused on my arm. I’m assuming they’re observing the effects of the orange jello from hell. Their expressions are somber. I swallow nervously. “Is it bad?”
Both their heads snap up at the sound of my voice. The taller and broader of the two men says something, relief etched on his face.
Unfortunately for me, I have no idea what his words mean.
Great. I’ve managed to lose my translator.
“Hey, buddy?” I try to sit up, and my head swims. I feel nauseous. Ugh. I hate being sick. “You know one of those golden thingies that go in my ear and shock the heck out of me? I’m missing mine. You can’t rustle up a spare, can you?”
I point to my right ear at the same time. I’m being a little flippant since I assume neither man can understand me, but at my snark, both men’s eyebrows rise, and an amused smile curls around the lips of the non-linebacker. He gets to his feet and moves to a corner, returning a minute later with my own personal babel-fish.
Shit. I see the golden translator embedded in his ear, and it dawns on me. I can’t understand them, but they can understand me just fine, and they probably think I’m an idiot.
My cheeks heat as I reach for the little device. Non-linebacker, who has dark hair that falls in sexy, shaggy waves around his face, and vividly green eyes, doesn’t hand it to me. Instead, his fingers stroke my forehead and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ears, before inserting the golden disk into my right ear.
Whoa. Tingles. Tingles everywhere as the hot alien touches me. My arm might be sore, and there appears to be a gash in my palm, but my girl-bits are humming happy songs.
Stupid girl bits. I’ve met Beirax, and the tall alien has a massive stick up his butt. Zorahn men might be easy on the eye—and trust me, these two are very easy on my baby blues—but fun to hang out with they’re not.
I sit up, slower this time. “Where am I?” I ask them. “Is this Zoraht? Where are the others? Are they safe?”
Mr. Linebacker speaks for the first time. “Your companions are well, Harper Boyd.” When he smiles at me, his caramel eyes warm and kind, my insides do a funny flip. I thought Beirax was huge, but this Zorahn makes Beirax seem puny. He’s tall, broad and muscled. His chest is crisscrossed with scars, but they don’t do anything to detract from his gorgeousness. If anything, they just make him hotter.
“Where’s Viola?” She’d told Sofia and Ryanna to take me back to the ship, while she went to find water and food. The two women were supposed to put me back into stasis. Is that what happened? “Is she okay? Did you find her before you whisked us off the prison planet?”
An expression of consternation flashes over the linebacker’s face. He looks at the other alien, who clears his throat. “This might come as a shock,” he says gently. “You aren’t on Zoraht. You’re still on the prison planet.”
My brain struggles to comprehend his words. “But why?” I stammer. “The spaceship went down. They’d have to know we crashed—they must have radar, or whatever they use in space. Why haven’t they come for us? They told us we were under the personal protection of the High Emperor. Surely that’s got to be good for a rescue mission.”
The green-eyed alien raises an eyebrow. “Lenox’s word?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t think much of the High Emperor. That’s not a good sign. The other Zorahn seemed to think that Lenox was the best thing that had happened since sliced bread.
Another thought occurs to me, one that causes anxiety to rise in my chest. What had Viola said before we set out? This was the world in which the Zorahn exiled their criminals. Draekon, she’d called them.
The two aliens sitting next to me aren’t Zorahn doctors. They’re not to be trusted. They’re to be feared.
My arm throbs and my head spins. The room goes blurry, and I fall into a dead faint.
3
Vulrux:
My throat tightens with fear as unconsciousness claims her, but our mate’s breathing stays even, and her coloring is healthy. “Her body is recovering,” a voice says behind me. Raiht’vi again. “Let her rest.”
I give the woman a hard look. Raiht’vi had hustled Sofia Menendez out of the room when our mate’s eyes had opened, and for that, I’m grateful, but my loathing of the scientist hasn’t abated. I can’t ever forget that fateful night in the Crimson Citadel.
Raiht’vi and Beirax are still recovering from their wounds, and I will aid that recovery as best as I can. When they are well, however, things will change. I will question them, and I will get answers. Sixty years ago, the Scientists’ pet guards trained their weapons on our mate. Someone ordered them to kill her, and I intend to find out who that person is.
If I were not stuck on the prison planet, I would seek revenge, but I can’t. The truth is all I can hope for.
You will find happiness with Harper Boyd, the beast inside me insists, but I’m not hopeful. The dragon is ruled by biology and nothing else. I saw the expression of fear in our mate’s eyes before she fainted. She is afraid of me.
Haldax enters the room on Raiht’vi’s heels, and I frown. Especially during the rainy season, when the fourteen of us are crammed together in close quarters, we respect each other’s privacy and never enter another’s dwelling unless expressly invited.
The rigidly traditional Zorahn gives me an apologetic look. “The Firstborn wants to talk to you, Raiht’vi, and Dennox,” he says in explanation. “Thrax will guard the human woman.”
I heave an inward sigh. I’ve avoided having this conversation with my cousin for sixty years, but I can’t hide the truth forever.
“Why did you cut Harper Boyd’s hand?” Arax stares at Raiht’vi, his arms folded over his chest. We’re in the dining area. The rains beat a drumbeat on the roof, an ever-present sound during the rainy season. “Why did you push Sofia Menendez out of Vulrux’s quarters? What are you playing at, Raiht’vi?”
Viola Lewis, who is sitting next to Arax, has a concerned expression on her face. Next to her are the two human women, Sofia Menendez and Ryanna Dickson.
In the ten days that my cousin’s mate has been in our encampment, I’ve come to like and respect the three human women. They’re dealing with a lot. Through no fault of their own, they’ve crash-landed on the prison planet and cannot escape. Half of their companions were stolen by another Draekon exile batch, and the rains prevent us from searching for them. Harper Boyd, one of their friends, has been in a coma.
Rather than fall to pieces, Viola set out to find help. Sofia Menendez takes refuge in discovering the various properties of the medicinal herbs in my stores, and Ryanna Dickson is learning how to fight with a bone knife.
It is Sofia Menendez, the human healer, who speaks up now. “Before Raiht’vi threw me out, I overheard you,” she admits softly, looking directly at Dennox. “You called Harper your mate.”
Arax and Nyx inhale sharply. “Your mate?” Arax says. “How is that possible? You didn’t transform.”
I take a deep breath and exchange a glance with Dennox. He nods almost imperceptibly. “We’ve never talked about the testing and the exile,” I tell my cousin. “For good reason. It is a time of pain for all of us, a time when we were torn from our families. But for Dennox and I, it was more.”
I tell them the story of that long-ago night. “Both Dennox and I transformed into dragons when we set eyes on the woman,” I tell Arax. “But she was killed, and we were exiled, and we’ve never allowed ourselves to think of it. When you told us how you transformed when you saw your mate, I understood better. Both Dennox and I have already transformed once. The creature inside me was wounded when s
he was killed and has remained dormant all these years.”
“Until Harper,” Viola says softly.
Raiht’vi mouth twists. “One mating and you think you know everything about your history,” she says disdainfully.
Arax’s gaze turns steely. “Scientist,” he snaps. “Do not test my patience with your half-truths, your hints, and your innuendos. I’m not in a mood to be toyed with. The human woman could have bled to death as a result of your actions.”
“She’s fine,” I interject. “She regained consciousness.” I address Raiht’vi for the first time. “You were right about Draekon immunity. You have my gratitude.”
She doesn’t meet my gaze. I don’t have time to ponder why; the moment I tell everyone that Harper Boyd regained consciousness, the human women jump to their feet, joy and relief etched on their faces. “She’s awake?” Viola squeals. “Can we go see her?”
Arax nods. He gives Raiht’vi a hard stare. “This isn’t over, scientist.” He turns to me, his expression troubled. “You kept this from me all these years,” he says softly. “Did you think I would react with fear when I learned about your transformation?”
“Of course not.” I lay my hand on my cousin’s shoulder. “It was a painful time. My mate had been killed, and my heart lay in tatters. I just wanted to forget.”
“And now? What of Harper?”
“She doesn’t know us.” A sense of hopelessness spreads through me. “She looks at us with fear, not desire.”
Nyx steps up and says something in a low voice to Arax that I can’t hear. At Nyx’s words, Arax’s face turns grim, and he nods tensely. “You’re right,” he says to his pair-bond. “But we need to wait for the human to heal.”
Unease fills my mind. I don’t like the way Arax is surveying Dennox and me. My intuition tells me I’m not going to like whatever he has planned.