by Cara Bristol
My mate. Mine. His dragon rumbled.
K’ev jerked and dropped her hand.
A human could not be a mate. A concubine with whom one could slake one’s lust, perhaps…but an eternal mate? Never. Everything about taking a consort stank like the female spies themselves—well, like one of them. Rhianna smelled—
Delectable, the dragon purred. My mate. Mine.
If it were his decision, he’d throw both females off the ship, but the king would clip his wings for sure if he returned without a consort. He had to bring home a female. Draco had been promised the president’s daughter. So, why not play along and see where this led?
The imposter froze with a hand clapped to her ear, and though her expression went blank, a fresh wave of deceit rolled off her.
No way was he bringing her to Draco.
“How long before we launch?” she asked.
With a hand signal, he could launch the ship right now. Acting on a hunch, he replied, “Perhaps half an hour. Why? Is something wrong?”
“I received a message from my—the president,” she said, biting her lip. “Something about your ship is interfering with the transmission.”
Rhianna blinked. “You got a message? I was told not to wear—” Her eyes narrowed on the small device in the imposter’s ear. “Seeing how the president, my father, sent a message, perhaps I should be the one to receive it.” She held out her hand. “Let me hear what he has to say.”
K’ev smothered a grin when Helena’s eyes widened with alarm. “It’s my job to handle these matters for you,” she said.
The two women engaged in a visual standoff, Rhianna glowering, the imposter exuding a spicy, fragrant fear, staring back with a pleading gaze. Then Rhianna sighed and waved her hand. “All right.”
Helena looked at him. “If I may take a moment?”
“By all means.” He motioned, only too happy to have her off the ship. “Take care of business before we launch.”
“I’ll just be a minute.” As she turned to the exit, the chain belt around her waist clunked to the floor. “Oops!” She scooped it up. With shaking hands she tried to refasten it, fumbled, and dropped it again.
“For goodness’ sake! Give me that.” Rhianna grabbed the belt. “Go talk to…my father.”
The imposter stepped out of the craft.
Rhianna hooked the belt around her waist.
“So, you’re the president’s daughter?” As he insinuated himself between her and the door, she sidled away from him, falling into step with his intention to distract her. He didn’t want her to see what was happening outside. But the dragon growled when she shied away.
“Yes…the only one.” A slight scowl revealed the deception didn’t set well with her. She lied, but she wasn’t good at it.
He checked on what was happening outside. Having reached the ground, Helena glanced furtively at the ship before hurrying for a limousine racing toward her. The vehicle stopped, the door flew open, she dove in, and it sped away.
Perfect. She’d saved him the trouble of getting rid of her.
With a flick of his wrist, he ordered the ship to retract the steps and seal the door. The transparency slowly darkened to opacity.
“I-I’m his only child period,” Rhianna said.
He cocked his head. “Is it common to have a single child?” No wonder the president had sent a replacement. No leader would risk the life of his sole offspring.
“It’s not uncommon, but most people who choose to have children generally have two. Do your people have many children?”
“More than humans, but not so many. My family is about average. I am one of eight.”
“Eight is average?” She gaped at him. “Is that one at a time—or do your women give birth to a litter?”
“One at a time,” he replied, and, taking advantage of her distraction, flicked his wrist and initiated the launch sequence.
“That’s a lot of pregnancies.”
“Having children is natural for females.”
She snorted derisively. “Says the man.”
So, she thought of him as a man? Most humans considered dragons to be a lesser species. Dirty reptiles, filthy lizards. They didn’t realize the acuteness of dragon hearing, and, on his tour of Earth he’d overheard many unpleasant insults. In addition, he’d monitored Earth’s electronic signals. Their beliefs and characterizations were ironic considering how rank humans smelled and how meticulous dragons were about personal hygiene.
Beneath his feet, the floor vibrated as vertical thrusters ignited and the ship lifted off.
“What’s happening?” Her gaze darted between him and the solid wall where the hatch had been.
“We’re launching,” he said.
“No, you can’t! Hel—Rhianna’s not back yet. We can’t leave yet.” She waved her hands. “Where’s the door? Where did it go? What happened to it?” She rounded on him. “You can’t leave her behind.”
“I didn’t leave her behind. She left of her own accord.”
“To talk to the president. She’s coming back!”
“She fled. She abandoned you.”
“She did not!” Rhianna balled her hands into fists. “You lie.”
His dragon snarled. K’ev managed to hold his temper because Rhianna believed what she said. She hadn’t smelled the deception or seen the president’s daughter scurry away like one of those rodents humans found repulsive. What did they call them? Oh yes…rats.
“See for yourself.” He motioned. Sensors read his hand signal, and the side of the ship turned transparent. They had attained enough altitude for a dragon’s-eye view of the entire launch facility. The field below was deserted.
“She wouldn’t leave,” she protested, but her shoulders sagged. “Hel-Rhianna wouldn’t do that.” She stumbled over the name.
“Let’s stop the pretense even you can’t keep straight. You are Rhianna,” he said. “The president’s daughter, Helena Marshfield, fled the ship.” He motioned, and the wall turned opaque again.
She tossed her head in a show of bravado. “You’ve never met either of us. And if you believe you have the wrong woman, then why launch the ship? You should land and get the right woman.”
“Oh, I have the right woman.” His dragon concurred with a whuff.
K’ev stepped back, eased his grip on his alter-self, and shifted into demiforma. Horns thrust through his elongating skull. His spine lengthened, adding height and a tail. Soft, vulnerable skin hardened into scales. Like a good stretch, the transformation from the compacted, alien shape brought instant relief.
She stumbled backward, her eyes wide. She pressed a hand to her throat. “You—you—you’re Prince K’ev.”
Chapter Five
“At your service.” The prince gave a mocking half bow.
Rhianna reeled at the sight of the prince standing before her. Nothing had gone according to plan. Nothing! She stared into mesmerizing golden eyes. She should have recognized him, but who knew dragons could shift to look completely human? He could have blended with all the other men on the street.
She’d been told the prince would not be on board. “W-why are you here?”
He flashed a grin of sharp teeth. “I came to escort my consort to Draco.” He moved closer, his nostrils flaring as if he was smelling her, reinforcing that no matter what shape he adopted, he was not human. He couldn’t be trusted.
Could anybody be trusted?
What if he was right? What if she’d been abandoned?
No. Helena wouldn’t have run away and left me. She wouldn’t. They were friends, confidants, sisters by a different mister. They had each other’s backs. Helena wouldn’t betray her.
She struggled to hold onto her faith while the facts hammered away.
With little warning, Helena had switched identities, purporting herself to be the travel companion and Rhianna the president’s daughter. She’d worn the exact same jumpsuit. Given the similarit
y of build and coloring, if the special envoy had shown up instead of the prince who’d met Rhianna, the switch would have gone off without a hitch. What were the odds that right before launch, a message from the president would come through providing a convenient excuse to slip away? Had there been a message, or had Helena pretended?
Oh. My. God. I’ve been set up. This wasn’t merely cowardice on Helena’s part. It was a premediated plot originating from high in the president’s administration. They planned to send me all along. She felt heartsick.
She wanted off this ship. Earth authorities could find themselves another patsy. She hadn’t signed up to become a dragon’s consort. She’d agreed to accompany Helena so her friend wouldn’t be alone, not to take her place! How could Helena have done this?
Rhianna lifted her chin and looked the prince right in the eyes. They weren’t solid yellow, but swirls of gold, topaz, and amber. “Since you know who I am, you know I’m not your consort. You have to take me back to Earth. Now,” she said.
K’ev leaned close. “I don’t have to do anything.”
Senses went haywire at the threat, his nearness. Run! An atavistic flight response urged her to flee, but her cerebral cortex overruled. Dragons were predators; running ignited their hunting instinct. She wouldn’t get more than two steps before he brought her down. And she was on his ship. Where would she run to?
“Please.” She swallowed. “I’m asking you. Please land the ship and let me off. There’s been a mistake.”
Another flash of those sharp teeth. Was there anything scarier than a dragon’s smile? “Perhaps you should have led with a request instead of a demand.”
“You’re not going to let me off, are you?”
“No,” he said emphatically. His breath whuffed over her face, her neck.
She forced herself to hold her ground, show no fear. “What are you doing?”
“You smell like rain.” In this form midway between dragon and human, his voice sounded harsh, rough.
“Rain?” Her heart pitter-pattered when he wound a lock of her hair around a talon-like finger. This close, he exuded a spicy musk like a mix of burnt cinnamon and woodsmoke. Her body reacted, and she inhaled, filling her lungs. “It wasn’t raining outside.”
“Sadness smells like rain,” he said. “The water kind, not the sulfuric acid kind. Why are you sad?”
Because I was set up. More than sad, heartsick. But admitting to the betrayal would raise questions about Earth’s intentions. He might view Helena’s act as a mark against all humans at a time when trust and goodwill were desperately needed. It could destroy any faith that Earth would negotiate fairly because, if they would betray one of their own, how could they be trusted to act honorably with the dragons? Earth’s trickery could be all the excuse Draco needed to attack.
Somebody had to fix this. Her stomach clenched. She might be all that stood between life and annihilation. She hated being manipulated by the Marshfields, but she couldn’t risk a positive outcome for her people or her family. If she had the power to stop a war, she had to go to Draco.
Besides, what else could she do? It didn’t appear that Prince K’ev would release her.
Hopefully, the comm unit she’d been given would provide some answers how to proceed. Would there be a Mission Impossible message on it—“Your assignment if you choose to accept it is to take one for team Earth”—or was she supposed to use the disk to record information? She needed to check it out but couldn’t with the prince right here. He’d confiscate it for sure. Surreptitiously, she patted her pocket. Still there.
How could Helena have run off and left me?
“I’m not sad,” she denied.
“Do all humans lie about their emotions?” He leaned in close again, his mouth partly open, his muzzle almost brushing her face. “You should know dragons can smell an untruth a mile off.” His massive chest moved with his inhalation. Were they like cats with vomeronasal organs allowing them to analyze scents?
Emotion was a state of mind, a thought combined with a physiological response. Odorless. But maybe dragons had a knack for reading people. In her Draconian Relations classes, she’d received training in the art of negotiation, aka dissembling, but it hadn’t felt comfortable to her. She considered herself too honest to be a good liar. Time to get over that! They plan to destroy the Earth, and I’m worried about lying? “I feel a lot of things right now,” she said.
“Really?” Yellow eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Like what?”
“I feel you’re invading my personal space. Could you move back a little?” She shoved against his chest. It was like touching a hot, dense, immovable mass. His body heat scorched her hand. He didn’t budge an inch, and from deep in his chest, she heard the low rumble of a growl.
She jerked her hand away. Oh god. I touched a dragon prince. Without permission. A huge violation of protocol, according to what she’d learned in her Draconian Relations classes. For all she knew—because there were quite a few gaps, not to mention outright misinformation in what she’d been taught—inappropriate contact could be punishable by torching. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to her throat. Don’t kill me. She’d shaken his hand upon boarding the ship, but only after he’d invited the contact.
He stepped away. While she drew ragged breaths into her lungs, he raked a hand over his horns and, before her eyes, shifted into a more human form, claws retracting, horns shrinking, scales becoming fainter. His skin had only the slightest gray-green cast. The change did not reassure her. It reinforced the unpredictability. Who knew what he would turn into next?
As a child, she’d believed the adults when they told her dragons were harmless. Ignorance was a poor excuse for bravery. Predators to the core, dragons only appeared to be civilized, and she’d been conned into flying off alone to Draco. She’d been locked in a cage with a sleeping lion. What would happen when it awoke?
Fighting tears, she backed up until she collided with the wall and had no place else to go. Literally, and figuratively. She was bound for a planet inhabited by aliens who, for some indiscernible reason, had a grudge against Earth. Fear, stress, hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to sink onto the rumbling floor and sob her heart out.
If panic took over, she’d have no chance of survival. Earth would have no chance. Her only weapons were her wits and composure. She squeezed her hands into fists and met the prince’s gaze defiantly.
“We have passed the Karman line and entered what you call outer space.” He waved his hand, and a portion of the wall turned transparent to reveal a clouded blue orb. Breathtaking. Beautiful. Deceptively serene.
Oh my god. That’s Earth. It was her first ever view from space. Please don’t let it be my last. Just as sobering as the disappearing image of her home was the realization K’ev had controlled the ship with a simple hand gesture, proving their technology was light years ahead of Earth’s. If war broke out, the humans would lose.
Maybe that’s why sending a woman to become K’ev’s consort offered the only possible chance of survival. One last, desperate Hail Mary pass before annihilation.
“Once we clear your planet’s exosphere, we’ll shift into hyperdrive. When we pass through the fold in space, it’s best to be seated. The combination of hyperdrive and the compression can have weird effects on the body,” K’ev said, shifting back into demiforma.
Weirder than a creature morphing from one life-form to another?
He motioned at the ship, and a corridor opened. “Follow me.”
Chapter Six
K’ev led the way to a small lounge where Rhianna could get comfortable. His dragon purred like a possessive male taking his female back to the lair for mating. He would be unhappy. K’ev was none too pleased, either. It was frustrating when the dual forces of your nature opposed each other.
He couldn’t relax his guard; he had to remember what she was: an enemy spy. Draco had offered Earth an opportunity to demonstrate goo
d faith by offering the president’s daughter as a concubine, and they’d violated the terms already by substituting a doppelgänger. If he had to be stuck with a human, he much preferred Rhianna over Helena, but his father would be very displeased. Helena, who had political value, could be leveraged. Earth would not wish to risk losing the daughter of one of their leaders.
Rhianna, a commoner, gave Draco little to bargain with.
My mate. Mine. His dragon didn’t care about her lack of political connections. Rhianna mine.
Rhianna jumped.
K’ev looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you say something?”
“No.”
“I thought I heard a growl.”
In full form, his roar shook walls, shattered rock, sent lesser beings fleeing in terror. In demiforma, his dragon communicated mostly via thought and instinct. Mostly.
She couldn’t have understood anything she’d heard because she didn’t speak Dragonish, but the possibility she’d picked up the subaural vocalizations disconcerted him. Rattled, he resorted to a human convention—he lied. “You’re mistaken.” The words smelled rank and tasted like sewage in his mouth. His dragon growled, and he shifted a little more into man form to silence him.
Rhianna blinked. “You’re like a kaleidoscope.”
“What’s a kaleidoscope?”
“A changing pattern. You keep shifting between forms. Do you always do that?”
“Only when there’s a reason.” He’d met her and Helena as a human to disguise his identity. Once secrecy hadn’t been needed, he’d reverted to demiforma, the preferred shape for space travel. After Rhianna had touched his chest, she’d retreated in fear. His dragon had been about to rage. If she were calm, he would calm, so he adopted a more human form again, thinking it would reassure her.
The dragon hummed with satisfaction now. Had she noticed? He glanced at her. She focused wide-eyed on two approaching demiforma crew members.
“Your Highness.” They touched a forehorn in deference. Yellow gazes alighted on Rhianna before focusing straight ahead out of respect for him, ignoring the fear wafting off her.
