by Lili Zander
No matter how much I want to run my hands all over their hard bodies…
Because there are a hundred reasons why the three of us shouldn’t be together.
There’s still no sign of my friends.
The rescue attempt is spiralling into disaster.
And most importantly, I’m fairly sure that the Draekons I’m falling in love with aren’t my mates.
Draekon Heart is the third book in the Dragons in Exile series. It’s a full-length, standalone science fiction dragon-shifter MFM menage romance story featuring a wary human female, and two sexy aliens that win her trust and her heart. (No M/M) Happily-ever-after guaranteed!
1
Ryanna:
The dining hall in the Draekon camp is normally a place of laughter and conversation, a place where we relax after a long day of work.
Today, it’s deathly silent.
All eyes are on the man who kneels in the middle of the hall, his hands tied behind his back. Beirax.
There’s an expectant hush in the air.
I look around discreetly. There’s something almost savage in the expressions of the Draekons as they wait for the sentencing. The scientists of Zorahn were responsible for their exile to this planet. Beirax’s trial won’t change their past or the reality of their harsh existence, but they still want to see him punished.
This sentencing is a formality—Beirax’s punishment has been determined behind closed doors. Even though I know that, when I see the raw emotion on the faces of the Draekons, a shiver goes up my spine.
The only Draekon who holds himself apart from the others is Zorux. The powerfully-built man stands outside the circle, leaning against a pillar, wearing his customary frown. He talks to no one and no one talks to him. That’s not new. Surly Draekon, as I’ve nicknamed him, keeps himself apart and avoids the others as much as he can.
Fine by me. I got my fill of jerks with mercurial mood swings back on Earth. I’ve learned my lesson.
It’s easy to lose track of time on a planet where there are no clocks, but I think I’ve been here for three months. In that time, I’ve gone all ‘Swiss Family Robinson’ on this planet’s ass—chopping wood, sharpening axes, and mending roofs. Surly Draekon—Zorux—has taught me to throw knives so I may hunt in the dry season. (Not by choice, of course; Arax told him to.) I’ve learned how to make a fire. I’ve been taught which strange alien vegetables and fruits are edible, and which ones are poisonous.
A movement distracts me from my thoughts. Thrax saunters up to the others, an easy smile on his face. God, his ass is fine. I have to remind myself to keep my gaze on his face. Not that looking into his caramel brown eyes is a hardship either.
Looking is okay. Touching, on the other hand, is strictly off-limits. Long before I left Earth, I’d made myself a promise. No more men. The more handsome they are, the more I’m going to avoid them.
I didn’t realize an alien prison planet would hold so much temptation.
Forcing myself not to stare at the tall, bronzed, handsome alien, I resume my study of the people around me. Raiht’vi is expressionless. Viola’s expression is carefully neutral as well, though she’s gripping Nyx’s hand tightly. She’s not as composed as she pretends to be. Sofia looks openly distressed, and Harper is pale-faced and looks like she’s going to be sick.
I don’t blame them for their nerves. The four of us have a role in today’s trial, and none of us are looking forward to it.
A deep gong sounds. Arax and Vulrux walk out from a house in the clearing and make their way toward us. They’re dressed in strange, unfamiliar robes that cover their bodies from head to toe. The robes are golden in hue, and the fabric shimmers as they move. Around their necks are heavy, carved medallions. Thin metal bands circle their foreheads.
Back on Zoraht, Arax and Vulrux were royalty. These must be marks of their office.
The two men enter the hall and the waiting Draekons part. Beirax looks up as they approach, his expression defiant. “You are Draekon,” he spits out. “You have no right to the symbols of the Crystal Throne.”
“The same Crystal Throne that you and your friends are plotting to overthrow,” Vulrux remarks scathingly.
“Enough.” Arax’s voice is quiet, but it carries through the dining hall. He eyes Beirax with unconcealed loathing. “Beirax. Your reckless actions resulted in the death of the human woman, Janet Cane. Because of you, nine other women are marooned on the prison planet, forced to live a life they didn’t choose. Furthermore, in a bid to escape from your judgment, you kidnapped Harper Boyd and tried to hurt her.”
Hisses sound in the crowd. Arax continues, the words formal and ritualistic. “We are here today to pass sentence on Beirax und Kronox ab Kei.” His gaze rests on Viola. “Viola Lewis. You have been injured by the actions of this man. By the laws of our land, you may choose his punishment. Do you condemn him to death?”
Viola draws a breath, but before she can speak, Beirax lunges to his feet. “No,” he shouts. “Stop this farce. You are all exiles, stripped of your titles, your blood status, your possessions. You are nothing. You have no right to pass judgment on me.”
I snort inwardly. I didn’t hear Beirax protest when Vulrux healed him of his wounds. Funny how that works.
Arax’s eyes flash with fury. The bronzed scales on his skin grow more prominent as his dragon threatens to surface. Straightening to his full height, he looks around at his fellow Draekons. “I am Arax und Dravex ab Zoraht, Firstborn of the High Empire. Does anyone here deny me the right to speak?”
Beirax’s eyes swing to Raiht’vi, his expression hopeful, but she shakes her head. Nobody else speaks up.
“I am far from home,” Arax says to Beirax. “And I might never return to the homeworld. But,” his expression turns icy, “I will always enforce the laws of my people.” He turns to Viola. “What is your answer, Viola Lewis?”
“No,” she replies. Her voice is unsteady, and Nyx puts his arm around her shoulders for support. “The four of us have conferred. We do not want Beirax’s death on our consciences.”
The Draekons stir restlessly as Beirax slumps with relief, but we’re not done. “Very well,” Arax says. “Your wishes will be respected.” He eyes the prisoner with distaste. “My mate is more merciful than I am. Beirax, as punishment for your many crimes, you will spend the rest of your days imprisoned on the Dsar Cliffs.”
For some reason, my gaze falls on Zorux. His face has turned pale, and he clutches the pillar for support. I wonder why Surly Draekon is freaking out.
Zorux:
I will always enforce the laws of my people.
The Firstborn’s words echo in my head, over and over, until my vision blurs and my throat clogs with fear. Beirax is right; we are all exiles. Zorahn laws should not apply to the prison planet, but yet they do, and I have broken the most important law of them all.
On the homeworld, the tattoos on your body tell a story of who you are.
My skin is covered with ink. Twenty thin rings around my forearm mark the twenty times I passed the Testing. My chest is marked with the indigo swirls that denote my place in Zorahn society.
According to the markings, I am Zorux und Saarex ab Rykiel, Highborn of Zoraht. My ancestral home is in Ryki, the remote farming outpost in the middle of the Northern Wilds. There, the House of Rykiel has controlled the supply of the lyka spice for thousands of years.
But the markings are a lie. Ninety-five years ago, my father, Kavax, a Lowborn servant of Lord Saarex, killed his master and bribed a calligrapher to sear off the tattoos on his skin and replace them with those of Lord Saarex’s.
Ryki was in the middle of nowhere; Lord Saarex suffered from a debilitating illness and hadn’t been seen in public for over a decade. My father got away with it.
Impersonating a Highborn is one of the high crimes of the Empire. The punishment is death, not just to the person who committed the crime, but to his entire family. The bloodline is tainted and must be eliminated.
&nbs
p; After four years, my father married my mother Lil’vi, a Highborn woman from Giflan. They had five children. My oldest sister Kael’vi. Me. The twins, Daerix and Kaenix, and my baby sister Sila’vi.
Then, when I was ten, my father was injured in a hunting accident. At the point of death, delirious from the healer’s potions, he confessed the truth to my mother.
At which time Lil’vi took the ceremonial dagger of the House of Rykiel from the armory where it was stored. She slit my father’s throat first. Then she killed my twelve-year-old sister Kael’vi. I would have been next, but my father’s dying cries woke me. I shielded my siblings from the knife, and the blade slashed across my face, leaving a long, jagged cut.
Before she took her own life, my mother commanded me to kill my brothers and sister and cleanse the taint. Then she plunged the blade into her chest and breathed her last.
I will always enforce the laws of my people.
For sixty years, I’ve kept my guard up. I cannot trust anyone with this dark secret. My mother killed her own child in shame. If the Firstborn finds out what my family did, my life is forfeit.
We head out tomorrow in search of a cloakship. If there is truly a way to escape the prison planet, the danger has increased a hundred-fold. It is not my death that I fear. It is the deaths of Daerix, Kaenix, and Sila’vi.
I will always enforce the laws of my people.
If the truth is exposed, my siblings will be executed.
2
Thrax:
After Beirax is led away, Arax claps for attention. “I need to talk to some people,” he says. “Nyx, Vulrux, Dennox, Thrax, and Zorux.” He hesitates for a second and then seems to make up his mind about something. “Raiht’vi as well. If the rest of you could give us some privacy?” It’s worded as a request, and everyone immediately obeys. In a few minutes, the dining area has emptied out of everyone but us.
The human women stay seated. Arax’s eyes rest of his mate Viola, who’s looking determined. “I’m just going to come looking for you if you leave me behind,” she says. “You might as well let me tag along, and you know it.”
Arax gives his mate a fondly exasperated look. “I wasn’t even going to try. I knew better. If all human women are this stubborn,” he adds ruefully, “I pity the men on your planet.”
Harper laughs out loud, but my gaze isn’t on her. My eyes are drawn instead to the human woman, Ryanna Dickson.
Before I was exiled, I never lacked for female company. I was a pilot, after all. But every woman that shared my bed knew that I wasn’t looking for anything more than a night or two. I never felt a desire to stick around. There was always another planet to explore.
Sixty years on the prison planet has made me see life through a different, more patient lens. I haven’t changed as much as I’ve grown up. I’ve learned to appreciate the important things in life.
Like Ryanna.
The human woman is intriguing, fascinating, and filled with contradictions. I’m not vain; I can tell when someone’s attracted to me, and Ryanna clearly is. Yet, though I flirt with her, I’ve made no serious attempt to get her in my bed.
She’s cheerful and optimistic. She’s always available to lend a hand. Some of the other human women will talk about aspects of their lives back on Earth, but never Ryanna. I don’t understand why, but she almost seems happy to be marooned on the prison planet.
The truth is, she’s the kind of woman that deserves a man that sticks around, and that isn’t me.
The Firstborn clears his throat, and everyone stops talking. “As you all know,” he begins, “tomorrow, we embark on two dangerous journeys. The first, which Nyx and I will lead, is the search for the human women that were taken from Fehrat 1. Vulrux and Dennox will lead the second mission, the search for the Cloakship pieces.”
Vulrux leans forward, a frown on his face. “I don’t like this plan,” he says bluntly. “Five human women were taken by the other exile batch. By now, ten Draekons might be able to transform at will. Don’t be reckless, Arax. There’s no hurry to find the Cloakship. Dennox and I should come with you.”
“Unfortunately, it can’t wait.” Arax takes a deep breath. “We can’t risk someone else finding the Cloakship before us. If the same Exile batch that took the human women manage to assemble the ship…” His voice trails off.
Ryanna goes pale with worry for her friends. I fight the urge to put my arms around her and comfort her. Arax continues speaking. “Beirax’s supplies are in a part of the planet that we’ve never explored. Harper and Ryanna, I’d feel much better if the two of you would stay in the safety of this camp.”
He’s absolutely right. The two women are too precious to be risked in this foolhardy trip. Especially Ryanna, who doesn’t possess the Draekon mutation.
Across from me, Zorux nods in agreement. “The Lowlands are dangerous for humans.”
That might be the first time I’ve ever seen eye-to-eye with him. Of course, Ryanna doesn’t listen. “Well, I’m going,” she says firmly. “There’s nothing y’all can say that’s going to change my mind.”
“Me neither,” Harper says firmly.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Vulrux looks resigned. I notice he isn’t even trying to keep his mate from accompanying him. “That’s why I’d like Thrax and Zorux to accompany us. Thrax used to be a pilot, so if we find the Cloakship, he’ll be useful. And Zorux is pretty handy in a fight.”
Arax nods in agreement. Raiht’vi, who’s been silent up to this point speaks up. “Why did you ask me here? This rescue mission does not concern me.”
I lift my head and stare at the scientist. Arax gives her a hard look. “I know you don’t care about the humans,” he snaps. “But I thought you’d be interested in the Cloakship. After all, it represents a way back to the homeworld. Don’t you want to return?”
She stares back at him, unfazed. “Only a trained pilot with Draekon reflexes can fly a ship through the asteroid belt,” she replies dismissively.
“You were piloting Fehrat 1,” Ryanna says. “You know how to fly a ship.”
“I’m Zorahn, human,” she says. Her dismissive tone grates at me. Ryanna’s statement was perfectly logical, and there’s no need for the scientist to act condescending. “I don’t carry the mutation in my blood. My reflexes are not fast enough.” Her gaze rests on me. “Your only pilot has not transformed,” she says. “Until he does, there’s no way off this planet. You’re embarking on a fool’s errand.”
“Nonetheless,” Arax says coolly, “my mind is made up. I don’t trust you enough to leave you behind. You’re going with Vulrux.”
Ryanna:
My heart sinks. Vulrux, Dennox, and Harper are in the fuck-like-bunnies stage of their relationship, which means I’ll be spending a lot of time with Sexy Draekon and Surly Draekon. Great.
I take a deep breath and focus on what’s important. I’m not on Earth. Mike can’t get me here. I’m safe on the prison planet.
I set off toward the house I’m sharing with Sofia. “Ryanna, wait up,” Harper says, bounding to my side. “So this should be interesting,” she says. “You, me, the guys, and Raiht'vi.” She raises her eyebrows as she mentions the scientist. “Is it just me, or does the way she says the word ‘human’ sound like an insult?”
I giggle, picturing the arrogant Zorahn. “Definitely not just you. I’m pretty sure she thinks we’re one evolutionary step above pond scum, bless her heart.”
Harper cackles. “This is why I love you, Ryanna. You're so nice, and everything you say sounds so sweet in that Georgian accent of yours. But whenever you say ‘bless your heart’ I hear something else.” She winks at me.
“Don’t tell anyone.” I grin back at her. “My grandma used to say ‘bless your heart’ is Southern for ‘fuck you.’”
“Wouldn't dream of it. All these Draekons think you’re a peach.”
“If they knew what a peach was.” I swallow as homesickness hits me hard.
“Yeah.” Harper sobers up.
“You think this mission will work?”
“I don't know.”
“Hey, at least you'll get to hang with Thrax. What?” She shrugs when I stare at her. “I see the way you look at him. He's cute. You should go for it.”
I stiffen. “No,” I say a little too sharply. “I mean... before I left, I had a bad breakup.”
More like a bad break. My arm, in three places, not to mention the bruises and a black eye.
“I'm sorry.” She pats my arm, an understanding expression on her face.
“It’s fine,” I shrug, wanting to change the topic. I don’t like talking about what happened back home.
Harper heads off to the house she shares with her mates. I’m not jealous, not exactly. Sure, I notice the way Vulrux and Dennox look at her, but when I imagine a man looking at me the same way… my stomach tightens. A loving look, a gentle touch—they all lead to darker memories. I’m never going down that road again. No matter how cute I think Thrax is.
Footsteps behind me make me whirl. I sigh in relief as Thrax falls into place at my side. The Draekon is almost two feet taller than me and ripped like a prize fighter, but I’ve never felt threatened by him. “You’re determined to come with us, aren’t you?” he asks me unhappily.
I will not live my life in fear.
“Are you going to try and talk me out of it?” In the time I’ve known him, Thrax has always treated me as if I were strong and capable. He’s never acted as if I was a liability. For him to try to dissuade me from this mission…
“Zorux is right. The Lowlands are dangerous.”
I’m used to living in a state of constant terror. No matter how dangerous the Lowlands are, I feel safer on the prison planet, scary predators and all, than I did back home in Georgia. “I’m not helpless,” I say quietly, trying to convince myself as much as him.
Without meaning to, I’ve scooted closer to him as we walk. The Draekon even smells good. A little smoky, like bourbon or tobacco. The scent reminds me the evenings my grandpa sat on the porch smoking his pipe. One of my better memories of Earth, of a time I was loved and safe.