by T. S. Ryder
“Ah, of course, Merelith. I should have known. Long time no see,” Keralth said sarcastically.
“It’s time for you to give me back my throne, Keralth,” Darilth said.
“Give me the Eye and this will all end,” Keralth replied with that sinister gleam in his eyes.
“The eye does not belong to you,” Darilth said calmly. “I am exiling you to the Dark Moon as punishment.”
“You are as foolish as the old man was,” Keralth said as he lunged after Darilth with his sword. Darilth parried the attack easily.
“I almost had the throne when he rejected that human whore of yours and kept you in exile, but you had to screw things up!” Keralth said through clenched teeth as he again swung at Darilth who stepped back and parried again. This time, Darilth struck him, creating a deep gash on his arm. Dark blood oozed out as Keralth clutched at his wound.
“The old man was going senile. You were never meant for the throne. Look at how long it took you to get yourself a mate! I am better suited to rule this land,” Keralth panted but kept swinging blows at Darilth. And with one blow he cut Darilth across his chest, drawing dark blue blood.
“And when the Eye awakened, the old man completely lost it. He thought of making you king, so I had to finish him off,” Keralth said as he parried and attacked again and again, madness overtaking him. Darilth fought back as metal clashed with metal.
“Father should have seen what kind of monster you had become. He trusted you, but you betrayed him,” Darilth said, wincing when a gash seared his upper arm. He ducked and turned around, changing position as he tried to back him up at the nearest wall, parrying and attacking along the way.
“This ends now!” Darilth said with a finality in his tone and pinned Keralth against the wall with the Lazarus at his throat. “Merelith!”
“I have his full confession here,” Merelith said, holding up a small circular disc. “And the council is listening to it right now, at this very moment.”
“Thank you Merelith,” he said, smiling, as Keralth looked around, baffled.
“Guards!” Darilth said as they entered the throne room, initially confused to see Prince Darilth instead. “Arrest him immediately and send him to the Dark Moon, right away!”
As the guards took Keralth away, Darilth collapsed on the floor, too weak to stand any longer. The gash on his chest was deep and a throbbing headache pounded at his temples.
Merelith came toward him. “Let me see that,” she said. “Poison. His sword was poisoned,” she said disgustedly. “Hold up your hand and concentrate, Darilth. Use the power of the Eye to heal you,” she instructed. He did as he was told and within a few minutes, the gash healed itself. Darilth felt his strength returning.
“The Draco’s Eye... You need to learn to use its powers. It’s a great gift to those who bear it,” she said.
Merelith’s communicator beeped just then. It was Dr. Wyern.
“We must go now,” she said, panicked. “Ella is in labor.”
***
Anxiousness flitted across Darilth’s sapphire blue eyes as they made their way to the docking station.
They chose the fastest ship to take them to R13, making the journey in almost half the time a normal spacecraft would. For Darilth, the next hours on the ship were the most torturous ever. What if she didn’t make it?
Please hang in there, Ella. Mekarth wailed, already restless and pacing around.
Merelith sat in her seat and checked the messages on her communicator. “The Council has made their decision. Keralth will be tried for the murder of his father and the misuse of power against his brother and his mate,” she said with a smile.
Darilth nodded and continued brooding, and Merelith noticed the drained look on his face. He seemed to have aged.
“We must arrive before she delivers the baby,” Merelith said, concerned. “Her life is in grave danger. She won’t survive for long after the birth. She needs you now more than ever. Only your Drakonaar blood can save her.”
Darilth took a swig of his wine. Taking a deep breath to calm his frantically racing heart, he raked a hand through his long hair. The ship wasn’t moving fast enough. All he could think of was how much pain she must be in. The feeling of helplessness brought tears to his eyes. He roughly wiped them away with the back of his hand. All he could do was wait and see what fate had in store for him.
Chapter Ten
Birth of the Half-blood Prince
Ella writhed in pain as Darilth stood there helpless, holding her hand. The baby was too big and she didn’t have the strength to push. Dr. Wyern was trying to keep track of the contractions. But he was getting hopeless. The baby was too big and might break the mother’s bones. He would have to go for a C-Section.
Merelith stood by, reciting incantations that would ease her pain a little, but the situation seemed grave. Ella was pale and gray. Her skin was clammy and her hands were growing cold. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Yet, Darilth saw that there was still a glimmer of hope in her eyes, even though it was quickly contorted by pain.
“D... Darilth,” she gasped, “If I... die... please... take care of my baby.”
“No, you are not to die, Ella!” Darilth’s voice broke as he blinked and held her hand tighter. He kissed her face, again and again, trying to rid her of the horrible pain she was in. “You will live! You are not going to leave me alone!”
But she was too weak to respond.
“I can’t give her anesthesia. I need her to be conscious. Spinal Epidural will do,” Dr. Wyern said as he injected her with the drugs. Then he made the first incision.
Soon, the cries of a baby filled the air and eased some of the tension. It was a beautiful boy. Ella smiled faintly as she looked at her son. He was half human and half Drakonaar. A true half-blood prince. The subtle scales on his temples were there but he had human eyebrows too.
Ella was relieved but could feel herself slipping away.
“Darilth, you must do it now,” Merelith said.
Darilth nodded and cut his wrist with his knife. He then sucked his blood filling his mouth. Then he cupped her chin with one hand and closed his mouth on hers, slowly draining his dragon blood down her throat with the swift movement of his tongue. All the while, Merelith recited incantations.
He made her drink his blood until she drifted into a deep slumber. He knew she would be fine when she awakened and arose like a phoenix. Yet, she would have changed. She would be one of them, a Drakonaar. It would take some time for her to cope with the change. The Ella he fell in love with would still be there – her soul just the same. The same innocent woman he adored. But she would be much stronger than before. And she would be his Queen forever.
***
Darilth walked down the great halls of the castle toward his chambers. The Council meeting had just ended and the Chief had finally sentenced Keralth to death. He would be executed the next day. The dagger Keralth had used to stab his father was found as well as the assassin who killed the guard and the maid. Before they could get him to confess, though, he killed himself.
Darilth was at peace, but part of him felt sad. He just wished his father were alive to see his grandson. He would have seen then that his son was truly worthy of the throne. But it wasn’t destined to be. He took a deep breath and quietly entered his chambers.
***
Ella woke up. The first thing she saw was the light coming through the large window of the room. She was at the castle. She tried sitting up, but her head spun. Otherwise, she felt better, rejuvenated, as if filled with some kind of renewed energy. She looked at her hands. They were the same, but she felt different and she couldn’t figure out what it was.
Suddenly, she thought of her baby. Where was he? She slowly got out of bed and walked up to the window. She stopped halfway when she caught her reflection in the mirror at the opposite wall. She wore an ivory and gold chiffon dress. The gold, laser-cut, intricate motif covered her neck up to her breasts in a halter fashion. The fabric b
eneath the motif clung to her breasts, and the sheer fall of the gown just below her waist gave her an ethereal look. What caught her attention was that she was no longer an albino - no longer even human. She was one of them: a Drakonaar. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was confident and beautiful. Her hair was silver-white with a beautiful sheen. Her eyes were now a deep shade of sapphire blue. Her skin was still pale, but a different shade of white. She touched the subtle scales that appeared on her temples and forehead. The brow-line was prominent with its subtle scaly ridges. She thought she looked strange but beautiful.
She was still gazing at her new image when Darilth came up behind her and wrapped two strong arms around her waist, his hard body against her soft one. He kissed her neck, his nose in her hair. Her scent was more exotic now, headier even.
“Darilth...” she whispered and turned in his arms, facing him. “How did this happen?” she asked him.
“I promised you that I would make you my queen, remember?” he said with that gorgeous smile of his. “I couldn’t let you die so soon.”
She simply gazed back at him in wonder. He claimed her mouth by his own with a passion so fervent and demanding that it took her breath away.
“Where’s our baby?” she asked.
“Come here,” he said in his low voice as he led her toward the other end of the room. A crib was placed there alongside one wall and in it slept their son peacefully.
“Thank you, Ella, for this wonderful gift. Thank you for giving me a reason to live,” he said, kissing her again.
“You are welcome, husband,” she said smiling her dazzling, alluring smile. She picked up the baby and held him close to her heart.
“What should we call him?” she asked.
“Prince Zoralth Rothgar,” Darilth said, smiling down at his son. “It means brave warrior.”
“I like it,” she said as she rested her head on his chest, the baby between them.
Epilogue
Six months later, Prince Darilth Rothgar was crowned the King of the Rothgar throne, and Ella Darilth Rothgar was crowned his Queen. The ceremony was grand and the people of Iovis celebrated their new King and Queen.
It took Ella a few months to adjust to her new form. The dizziness and headaches went away eventually and Darilth taught her how to summon her inner dragon. It was a strange and thrilling experience for her when she first shifted form. It was as if she were discovering a whole new side of her inner self. Her dragon was pure and graceful, a manifestation of her soul. Darilth named it Saphira the Magnificent.
Their son grew up fast – faster than a human child. He seemed to be two years old when he was actually six months. He was an unusually intelligent kid with bright blue eyes and dark hair. Merelith predicted that he would grow to be a strong warrior, stronger than other Drakonaars as he was a half-blood prince. Ella knew that she was finally home, and she was eternally grateful for that.
*****
THE END
Caged by the Barbarian
Description
I am the prize in a cruel game. And these barbarians are killing each other to win me
What is Bond, warlord of the T’Shav, supposed to do when the woman to play the Goddess in the Fifth Cycle Festival turns out to be his mate? Throw himself into the arena of course, cutting down his competitors with savage joy. This woman belongs to him.
Lieutenant Sara O’Neill has one big secret: she’s human. After hiding her humanity her entire life, she is caged as the prize in a deadly, bloody game. She’ll be owned by the winner, his to do with whatever he pleases. Usually, that means being killed and eaten.
There’s no way that she’ll want this brute with his violent tendencies. Until she does.
But Bond has a mission to complete and he won’t be distracted. Yeah, right. That’s not happening when he’s stuck on a small spaceship with a curvy, delicious human.
Turns out someone’s out to claim her and his unborn young. Doesn’t the enemy know what happens when they get on Bond’s nerve?
Forced together, Bond and Sara have to fight the odds, focus on the mission and keep their hands off each other. Let’s see if they succeed... at that last part at least.
Chapter One: Sara
The controls shook in Lieutenant Sara O'Neill’s hands as she fought to keep the ship on course. The sudden pressure shift of entering the atmosphere caused it to buck from side to side. If she didn't keep its nose down, streamlined, she'd end up among the ash orbiting the planet. Her teeth clenched as the bright greens and blues of the planet's surface rushed towards her in the view screen.
"Ozone layer cleared," her computer coolly informed her.
Sara yanked on the controls, flipping the engines from forward to reverse thrust. It was a maneuver guaranteed to shut them off immediately in atmospheric conditions. The ship jerked and the hum of her engines cut out. Good. The engines were too powerful to be this close to the planet's surface; they'd propel her deep under the planet's exterior.
The smaller thrusters were already on. Sara reached out to either side, manipulating levers to slow her descent. She operated this stupid ship comfortably with two people, but in most situations required more. The ship she had wanted to buy would have been much easier to handle on her own.
Damn payroll cuts, Sara thought furiously as the control panel lit up, warning her of the imminent collision.
A string of curses flew out of Sara's mouth as she lowered the landing gear. If this didn't work, she'd end up a smear on the planet's surface – an example of what not to do when the Corps trained next year's students.
"Impact in ten seconds," the computer said. "Ten."
Sara threw the thrusters on full blast, flinching when the whole ship shuddered. Screeching metal tore at her ears.
"Nine."
The lights flickered.
"Eight."
"Come on," Sara hissed. She was still going way too fast.
"Seven."
She abandoned the flight controls and rushed to cargo and disposal.
"Six."
Sara's hands flew over a panel, opening up the garbage and waste ports.
"Five."
"Activate emergency waste expulsion," she shouted.
The propulsion of waste from the ports jerked the ship upright, throwing Sara to the ground. The control panels sparked and several rivets popped overhead. She curled into the fetal position as loose items were thrown all about. A solid thud had her rolling across the floor, trying to brace herself against the walls.
"Landing complete," the computer said.
Sara waited a moment to let the chairs stop rolling before she stood. Another curse escaped her as she took in the damage. Black scorch marks pocked the controls, and more than one lever looked like it had melted into place. So, the controls were fried and, no doubt, the thrusters were shot after that. At least she was in one piece. She put a hand to her chest, her heart pounding, and let out a shaky laugh.
"Shall I give you a damage assessment?" the computer asked.
"Nah, not right now. What's around here? I want to make sure I haven't dropped into Munchkin land and squashed their mayor. Or the Wicked Witch of the West. I'm in no mood for quests..."
There was a brief pause. "There appears to be a temporary encampment with vessels faster than the speed of light nearby. Would you like a map?"
Sara shook her head. "They'll find me. I'd like to stay safe inside here until I know whether they're friendly or not."
The computer didn't respond to that. Not that that was surprising. These older models were programmed to be functional, not friendly. The new Soundbolts had a computer that would congratulate you on your singing skills, but this rust bucket interacted at the bare minimum. It made for a very arduous journey between the stars.
It was all she could afford on her salary, though, and there was no way in Satan's menstrual cramps that she was staying on the Corps base she was assigned to. The space station orbited a backw
ater moon and she needed some excitement. That was why she had taken off to the aptly-named Planet Adventure, which was basically Disneyland, only a gazillion times bigger. Sara had blown all her savings on the two-week stay. She had thought it was worth it until her engine cut out over this planet.
"Hey, where are we, anyway?"
"Rozaist, Hockorn system."
Rozaist? Sara shook her head. This was a planet where the religious crazies went. Not that she had anything against believers, but mass hordes of rioters demanding opposite-species relationships be made illegal set her teeth on edge. Rozaist wasn't part of the United Species, though, and as such was fair game to anybody who wanted a piece of it. The Corps was occasionally called to settle squabbles here, but they didn't technically have any jurisdiction. More often than not, it was one warlord or another who offered the planet 'protection' and implemented their own sort of justice. Hopefully, her position in the Corps would give her some protection against the locals.
That thought flew out the window when the lights went out. The displays shut down and Sara found herself in utter silence. Even the usual hum of air circulation had stopped. She sat, bewildered, for a moment, but the answer came to her quickly.
Pirates.
With a curse, she drew her issued blaster gun and turned on the built-in light that she insisted on adding, despite her colleagues' scoffs. It was an old habit, leftover from her days back on Earth, before she ended up out here.
Don't think about that, Sara told herself harshly. Earth is gone.
She found herself a defensible position and hunkered down, adjusting her bionic eyes to register heat signatures. Five of them lurked just outside the ship. There was a wheezing noise, the sound of air being released. Too late Sara realized that the air vents were active again, pumping in a gas of some sort. Her head swam, bright lights flashing across her vision, and she slumped to the floor.
