by Cara Bristol
“Ever since I met you when you were a child, I tried to learn everything I could about Earth. I think your fyre called out to mine even then.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet—now. You were a jerk back then. You threatened to eat me.”
K’ev waggled his horns. “I still might.”
Rhianna laughed and wound her arms around his neck. “Do your worst.” She nibbled on his ear.
“Lucky for you, my worst is also my best.” He kissed her.
Epilogue
The king’s roiling emotions preceded him—wariness of her, which showed his wisdom—residual anger, which tried her patience—and traces of guilt and shame, which showed there was hope for his redemption. So many emotions, the priestess’ nose itched.
When she entered the main chamber, she found him kneeling before the Eternal Fyre.
She signaled, and he rose to his feet.
King K’rah wasn’t a bad man, just a hotheaded monarch who believed in old customs of Draconian justice when death served as the penalty for nearly everything. The old ways had changed; he just didn’t realize it yet. For all their technological advancement, dragons were simple creatures. Humans, for all their lack of technological advancement, were complex ones. They lied, and they loved. They stole, and they gave. They were stupid, and they were crafty-smart. They hurt one another, and they committed selfless acts of grace no dragon could match.
Rather like the duality of dragons, they were one, and they were the other.
“You’re wondering why I summoned you,” she said.
“I wonder. I would never ask.”
She’d had another vision. Seen another woman with blazing-red hair, this time with emerald eyes rather than blue, but also carrying a candle. A big wind began to blow, and her candle flickered wildly, in danger of being snuffed out. Another child, this one in grave danger.
“Your son, T’mar, he is unmated, is he not?”
“My oldest, yes.”
“He would be served by a consort from Earth.”
The king winced. “Priestess, please…I’ve accepted K’ev’s mate—”
He hadn’t, but he was trying, and one day he might succeed.
“That is all,” she said.
One by one, she would bring her children home…
* * * *
“Helena?” Patsy said.
“Yes?”
“Another hail has been received from Draco,” her father’s assistant said.
Helena’s heart thudded. “W-who? Do you know who?” Two weeks ago, Biggs had gotten word in the middle of the night that Prince K’ev had swallowed the bomb, and he and Rhianna had planned to meet with the king. Biggs had detonated the bomb. They hadn’t heard anything since.
Was Rhianna alive or dead? Were the dragons on the way? Was Armageddon about to start? What hold did Biggs have over her father to get him to agree to such a suicidal scheme? Biggs controlled the country, but he had to know he couldn’t control the dragons.
“Rhianna,” Patsy whispered.
Oh thank god. Helena closed her eyes. Maybe the bomb had turned out to be a dud. Maybe it hadn’t worked the way it had in testing. The unit had been developed by a munitions company from two elements discovered on Elementa. Inert individually, when the two substances were bonded together, the resulting compound could become explosive. Biggs had been a major shareholder and CEO of the company before joining the president. He claimed to have divested himself of all interest, but Helena didn’t believe it for an instant.
“The president and Biggs are in the command center about to take a call. You didn’t hear it from me.”
“No, of course not. Thank you for telling me,” she said. Patsy had become a valuable inside source since Biggs had further marginalized Helena, excluding her from all strategy sessions. Her father’s assistant risked her career and possibly her life in passing on information. Helena would never betray her source.
Not like I betrayed Rhianna. She’d live with guilt and shame for the rest of her life. Worse, she had no way to undo what she’d done.
Danger prickled between her shoulder blades as she hurried toward the command center under the spying lenses of the surveillance cameras. Increasingly paranoid, Biggs had tightened already-tight security.
She paused outside the room, gathered her composure into a bland expression, and keyed herself in. At least her code still worked. Biggs hadn’t deactivated her yet.
Instead of his usual spot at the end of the table, he’d installed himself next to her father.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I thought the command center was vacant.” She faked surprise, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind her. She fingered her wrist. “I dropped my bracelet. Can’t find it anywhere. This is the last place I thought to look.”
She scooted to the big table, pushed aside her old chair, and scooped up a charm bracelet she’d planted underneath the table for an emergency like this one. Stalling, she pretended to fumble as she fastened it around her wrist.
“We’re in the middle of something,” Biggs snapped. “Could you do that outside?”
Helena glanced at her father. His expression appeared uncertain. The stronger Biggs grew, the weaker her father got. Did he have any backbone left? Were there any vestiges of the leader who’d existed before Biggs entered the picture?
Helena marched around the table, drew out the chair on the other side of her father, and sat down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Biggs said.
“Staying,” she replied. Just try and make me leave. But her heart pounded with fear. She’d never openly defied him before. I have to see with my own eyes Rhianna is okay.
“Let her stay,” the president said.
Biggs said nothing for a long moment then jabbed the console.
Rhianna appeared on the screen. She looked good. Healthy. She seemed to glow, even if her expression was forbidding. She stood there, her hands folded in front of her. Movement flashed in the periphery, and then Prince K’ev stepped into the frame.
Biggs jerked. Helena suppressed a triumphant smirk. Expected him to be dead, did you?
“Hello, Rhianna,” her father said.
“Mr. President, Mr. Biggs…Helena.” Rhianna’s gaze touched on Helena before focusing on the president. “As you can see, Prince K’ev is here with me. I’ll get to the point: we discovered the bomb.”
“A bomb? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” her father bluffed.
Helena knotted her hands under the table and avoided eye contact with Biggs. The only way Prince K’ev could have survived would have been if Rhianna had discovered the message hidden in the belt. If she revealed how she’d found it, Helena would become one of those problems Biggs needed to fix.
“Do you have any idea how close you came to annihilation?” Rhianna said. “Warships had been dispatched to destroy Earth and the colony on Elementa, but they were called back.”
Helena pressed a hand to her throat and closed her eyes. What she’d feared had almost occurred. Suffering from delusions of omnipotence, Biggs had insisted a first strike would deter the dragons. She’d feared it would have the opposite effect.
“In the interest of harmony, the king has decided to overlook the settlement on Elementa, but Draco will proceed with colonization,” the prince said.
“So Earth is safe?” Helena asked. They could come out of hiding? Go back to normal lives? Or a new normal. She glanced at Biggs and her father. Nothing would ever be the same for her. She knew too much. Had seen too much.
“The king is no longer considering declaring war on Earth, but this is by no means a free pass,” Rhianna said. “Earth will be required to make some concessions and demonstrate good faith if there is to be any hope of reconciliation and amity. The ball is in your court, now. K’ev has a suggestion for you. I suggest you accept it.”
“What kind of suggestion?” her father asked.
“On behalf of the king, Drac
o is offering Earth a chance to repair the distrust between our two planets. We wish for you to send another woman who will become the consort of my older brother, Prince T’mar ulu K’rah Qatin,” the prince said.
“Why would we send another person into harm’s way?” her father asked.
“On my honor, she won’t be harmed,” the prince replied.
Biggs snorted. “You expect us to believe that? After you admitted you sent ships to attack us? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, that’s rich!” Rhianna’s eyes flashed. “You sent me off to Draco with a bomb planted on me. If there is a danger, it originates from you. I suggest you accede to the king’s request.”
“How can we reach you if we decide to do this?” Helena asked.
“A Draconian ship will rendezvous at Elementa in one week. Send her there,” the prince said. The screen went dark.
“How stupid do they think we are?” Biggs, his face unusually florid, shoved back from the table and stalked around the room, his anger ratcheting up with every step. His fury rose not because of a request perceived as ridiculous, but because his plan had been thwarted, Helena knew. Biggs was a megalomaniac. In his mind, he believed he couldn’t be defeated, and he hadn’t taken the threat of attack seriously. He’d encouraged the president to go into hiding and had whipped up fear among the populace because it had enabled him to solidify his power.
Biggs will destroy us all.
She had to stop him, but she doubted she could do it from inside Bunker One. Her father thus far had stood up for her, protected her, but how long would that continue? His power weakened with every passing moment. Biggs was in control.
“How could they have discovered the bomb?” her father asked. “It’s supposed to be undetectable, impervious to scans.”
“Good question.” Biggs looked straight at Helena.
Her heart rate skyrocketed, but she said nothing, just returned the stare. A guilty person would react, seek to defend oneself. An innocent person wouldn’t realize an accusation had been leveled.
“They must have improved their technology,” her father said, almost hurriedly, as if trying to draw Biggs’ scrutiny away from her. “So, why didn’t they attack?”
“Because they bow to our strength. We have the upper hand. The king knows we have the materials to construct a weapon to destroy them,” he said.
He’s delusional. Insane. While the bomb had performed in detonation tests on Elementa, the execution of the plan had failed. Even if it had worked, the dragons were superior technologically and militarily. Only a fool or a sociopath couldn’t see that. Biggs viewed the king’s retreat as a weakness, but Helena had a hunch something else had caused him to reconsider.
“Rhianna has committed treason,” Biggs said.
“I don’t think she would voluntarily do that,” her father disagreed. “I think she was brainwashed.”
Were they forgetting they’d planned to sacrifice her? They’d betrayed her.
“Brainwashed or not, she’s a traitor,” Biggs said.
Her friend wasn’t brainwashed or a traitor, she merely had a full grasp of the facts. If she believed sending another consort to Draco would improve relations, they should do it.
“So what are we going to do now?” Helena asked.
“Continue as we have been: colonizing and mining Elementa. Another group of colonists has been briefed and is awaiting orders. We can launch as soon as tomorrow.”
Helena flattened her palms on the table. “What about the state of the emergency? It can be rescinded now, right?”
The president nodded. “Given there is no imminent threat of attack, I think we can—”
“No. Without a formal peace accord, the state of emergency remains in effect,” Biggs said. “We only have the prince’s say-so the king doesn’t intend to attack.”
Fearful people could be easily manipulated. With everyone hiding, Biggs had ultimate control. If her father resumed public appearances, Biggs would be forced to maintain perceptions, which would necessitate concessions. His power would wane if life resumed normalcy.
With everyone in hiding, the president was powerless, and it was only a matter of time before Biggs brought Earth to the brink of annihilation again.
She couldn’t stop him. Tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that, there’d be a knock on her door, and she would…disappear. He already suspected she’d warned Rhianna, he just hadn’t figured out how. As soon as he did, she was a dead woman.
Rhianna said a consort would help mend relations. Maybe, on Draco, Helena could find a way to bring the two planets closer to true peace. If she could do that, maybe she could forgive herself for her part in sending Rhianna to Draco.
Helena swallowed. “I’ll go to Draco as Prince T’mar’s consort.”
“Absolutely not.” Her father shook his head.
“They were expecting me the first time anyway,” she pointed out.
“No. It’s too big a risk.”
He hadn’t worried about Rhianna’s life. He’d gone along with Biggs’ plan to use her as an unsuspecting suicide bomber. As her friend had pointed out, the real danger had come from them, not the dragons.
“It would help to have someone on the inside who isn’t brainwashed.” She played on their faulty assumptions.
Biggs narrowed his eyes as if considering it. Then he shook his head. “No. I need you here.”
To do what? Sit on the sidelines and twiddle her thumbs? Wait for a knock on the door? She pressed her lips together and glanced at her father. His Adam’s apple moved, and he clenched a fist on the table. Their eyes met and, for a moment, naked fear flickered in his gaze.
Oh. My. God. It’s me. I’m the hold Biggs has over my father.
All of a sudden, she knew. Biggs had threatened her life to get her father to go along with his megalomaniacal plans. As long as she was here, Biggs could force the president’s hand. He’d never allow her to go to Draco because then she’d be out of reach and he couldn’t use her to control the president.
“Whew! I’m glad you said that.” She flattened a palm against her chest and faked a sigh of relief. “I felt obligated to volunteer because I’m willing to serve my country and my planet. However, the idea of going to Draco terrifies me.”
She pushed back from the table and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you gentlemen continue with your meeting.”
Biggs’ pacing had taken him across the room. She leaned over and hugged her father. “I love you, Daddy. Don’t worry. Everything will work out,” she whispered in his ear.
“I love you, too, sweetie, so much.” His voice cracked.
She hugged him for the last time and kissed him goodbye.
She left the command center and went to pack. Tomorrow, she would put herself on the ship to Elementa.
* * * *
Thank you for reading Under Fyre. As you’ve probably guessed, the next book in the Alien Dragon Shifters series will be Helena Marshfield’s story, Line of Fyre. She becomes the consort of Prince T’mar. To be sure you don’t miss it, subscribe to my newsletter. You’ll also receive the FREE Under Fyre Prequel that tells what happened when Prince K’ev and Rhianna met when he visited Earth before relations between the planets deteriorated. Get it here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/8oksued3jp
Get the prequel here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/8oksued3jp
Now read on for an excerpt from Alien Mate…
An excerpt from Alien Mate (Alien Mate 1)
Chapter One
Starr
Truth would prevail. It had to. It had to. It had to.
The space over the empty juror box shimmered, and then a real-time hologram of the jurors materialized. I kept my face expressionless as advised by counsel and clenched my hands in my lap. The jurors avoided my eyes, and hope drained out, leaving me sick inside. My attorney, Maridelle, covered my hand and squeezed.
“Have you reached a verdict?” the jud
ge asked.
“We have, your honor,” the foreman replied.
“What say you?”
“We, the members of the jury, find the defendant, Starr Elizabeth Conner, guilty of second-degree murder.”
My heart seized in my chest. I wasn’t aware of leaping to my feet, but Maridelle caught my arm. “I didn’t do it! I’m innocent,” I cried. My gaze shot to the prosecution table where People’s Attorney Gil Aaronson, a crony of the Carmichael family—although I couldn’t prove it—stowed his CompuBrief in its case. He didn’t look at me, either, but a smug smile rested on his face.
Electrocuffs in hand, a bailiff headed toward me.
“We’ll appeal, don’t worry. We’ll get the verdict overturned,” Maridelle whispered in my ear as the bailiff fastened the restraints. She’d believed me, but no one else had—how could that bode well for the future? If she hadn’t been able to convince my peers of my innocence the first time around, what chance would she have on appeal? The Carmichaels controlled too much. They didn’t hold political office themselves. They owned the people who did.
“Sentencing is set for one week.” The judge cracked his gavel, and his holographic image wavered and then vaporized. A very solid bailiff hustled me to my cell.
* * * *
A statuesque woman plopped down next to me in the lounge. Her skin reminded me of rich, creamy milk chocolate, the kind only the wealthy could afford. Everyone else bought the synth stuff and pretended it was good. “I’m Andrea Simmons,” she said. “Cyber hacking.” We introduced ourselves on the SS Australia by name and crime.
“Starr Conner…second-degree murder.” Maridelle had cautioned not to discuss my case pending the appeal. Big ships have big ears and all that. So, I’d tried to avoid my fellow passengers, keeping to my cabin, venturing to the mess hall when it would be deserted. Eventually, loneliness—or maybe acceptance of my fate—nudged me out of isolation. My conviction had less chance of reversal than I’d had for acquittal the first time around. My presence on the ship demonstrated how well the trial had gone.
