by Lili Zander
The sex will probably be very good, but it’ll only complicate an already fucked-up situation.
“I’m going to take a nap.”
Of course, the Draekons know I’m avoiding answering Dennox’s question, but thankfully, they don’t push me.
I sleep for a few hours. When I wake, the sun is low in the sky, and I’m starving. “I’m sure you can find food, Harper,” I say out loud. “They probably don’t eat maggots. This isn’t Survivor.”
I get dressed in NASA’s finest astro-gear, wishing for a change of clothing. Vulrux and Dennox can probably find me something that’ll work as a needle. Maybe I can MacGyver myself a dress from their towels. Anything has to be better than government-issued Spandex. It’s supposed to wick away moisture, but as we discovered the first time we ventured out into the jungle, it’s no match for the humidity on this planet.
Neither Vulrux nor Dennox appears to be around. I don’t wait for them; I grab the cloak Dennox gave me and head out toward the dining room.
Earlier today, I was too busy marveling at the deluge of rain to notice the design of the passageways. Now, I realize that several houses are dotted around the clearing, and each of them has a covered passage connecting it to the dining hall. Clever.
Viola said that there were fourteen Draekon, and they’ve been exiled for sixty years. My mind struggles to comprehend those numbers. I live in California. I’m always surrounded by people. Driving to work in the mornings, I used to mutter curses about gridlock. Now, my entire world has shrunk to fourteen Draekon and three human women.
Stay strong. I hear my mother’s voice in my head. She was my swim coach. I would whine about my muscles hurting, and my mother wouldn’t relent. Nothing worthwhile comes easy, little dolphin, she would tell me. Stay strong and focus on what’s important.
What’s important now? Not sex with hot dragons. No, my focus should be finding a way to rescue Olivia, May, and the others, and getting the fuck off this planet.
Speaking of the other women, I need to apologize to Viola. I was a bitch earlier, and I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I have no right to judge her choices. If she wants to stay on this planet, that’s her call.
The dining hall is almost empty. I’m either too early for dinner or too late. Given how loudly my stomach is rumbling, I hope it’s the latter.
There’s only one Draekon there. Thankfully for me, it’s the one who was guarding me earlier. He’s throwing knives at something that looks like a dart board. He turns when he hears me approach, and a friendly smile breaks out on his face when he recognizes me. “Are you hungry, Harper Boyd? I’m preparing the night meal now, but if you’d like, I can find you something to eat while you wait.”
Somehow, I doubt there’s a refrigerator filled with snacks.
“Do you all eat together?” I ask curiously. The dining hall is large enough, and it’s dominated by one long table and more than a dozen chairs.
He nods. “During the dry season, the fourteen of us traverse the lowlands, and we don’t get many opportunities to share meals. During the rainy season, however, it is customary to eat the evening meal together.”
That actually sounds nice. When I was dating Tom, one of the best things about the relationship was that I had someone to cook for, someone to eat dinner with. Even if Tom’s eyes were always glued to the TV screen, and he never once thanked me for the meal.
Then again, Tom was always a jerk. I should have listened to my friends when they tried to warn me.
“I’m looking for Viola. Do you know which house she’s in?”
He points to a house in the distance, one with a porch wrapped all around the outside. I can almost imagine sitting there in a rocking chair, watching the rain fall. “The Firstborn and Viola Lewis live in Nyx’s house,” he says. “If you are looking for Sofia Menendez or Ryanna, they are in the Firstborn’s quarters.” He points to a surprisingly small and unassuming house not too far from us.
Once I’m done talking to Viola, I need to have a conversation with Raiht’vi. If the Draekon mutation is working its sinister magic on me, I’d like to know what to expect. The tall Zorahn scientist doesn’t strike me as particularly forthcoming, but she did tell Dennox and Vulrux how to cure me. Maybe she’s friendlier than I think. “What about the two scientists,” I ask Thrax. “Where can I find them?”
His body tenses. “Beirax and Raiht’vi are recovering in Zorux’s house,” he says, pointing to a walkway on his left. “That way.”
“Good to know,” I tell him cheerfully. “Thank you.”
His lips tighten. “I would avoid the scientists if I were you, Harper Boyd,” he says. “When Beirax is healthy, he will stand trial for his crimes. As for the Highborn Scientist? Vulrux does not trust her, and neither does Dennox. In sixty years, I’ve learned that neither men are hasty to form judgments. You would do well to heed their caution.”
Viola might be sweet and pliable, and she might do everything Arax and Nyx tell her. The sooner the rest of the Draekon learn that all Earth women aren’t quite as compliant, the better. I pat Thrax on the arm. “Dennox and Vulrux aren’t the bosses of me.”
7
Dennox:
Harper looks exhausted. As soon as she announces her desire to sleep, Vulrux and I leave her alone so she may rest.
The moment the two of us head outside, I place my hand on the healer’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”
Vulrux looks both surprised and wary. “Of course,” he says. We head to the dining room, but Thrax and Zorux are there, preparing the evening meal. “Let’s go to your house,” he suggests.
Perhaps he can sense that I need privacy for what I’m going to say. I lead the way to my simple one-room dwelling. Zoraken are trained to be hardy, and even after sixty years, the ways that were beaten into me are hard to let go.
Once we’re inside, I turn to my pair-bond. “We’ve never talked about the Crimson Citadel,” I begin.
“What’s there to say?” Vulrux asks bitterly, staring out of the small front window. “We couldn’t protect our mate.”
It haunts me too. That woman died because the two of us transformed to Draekon when we set eyes on her. We’re responsible.
I’ve relived that night a million times. It’s quite ironic. My memory is fragmented as a result of the Zoraken mind-wipes. I can’t remember the faces of my parents. I can’t remember the wars I’ve fought in. But the look on the face of the woman whose name I never knew, as the guards turned their weapons toward her? That, I can’t forget.
“I don’t want to talk about her death,” I reply flatly. It’s the gaps in my memory that I want to discuss with Vulrux. “Have you heard about the Zoraken mind-wipes?”
Vulrux looks intrigued. “I’ve heard rumors. So it’s true?”
I nod. No one ever talks about what it takes to become a soldier of the Empire, but the costs are high. Our memories are wiped when we are first recruited, so that we will devote all our energy to training, sparing no thought for our families. They’re wiped after battle, so we can ignore the emotional trauma that comes with war.
The first wipe is hard; the mind wants to cling to its memories. The subsequent ones are easier, but each time we are tampered with, we become unstable. I’ve been wiped eighteen times, a statistic that’s carved on my skin with blunt knife strokes, one slash for each time I went under. The record is twenty-one. No Zoraken in the history of the High Empire has survived their twenty-second wipe.
“Yes.” My voice is clipped. I don’t like talking about the past, but I need Vulrux’s help. “I can only remember fragments.”
I draw a deep breath and share one of my deepest fears. “I don’t remember how I ended up in the Crimson Citadel,” I blurt out. “I was at the Battle of Adrash, but after that, I can’t remember anything. For the Zoraken to give me to the scientists as a prisoner, I must have done something terrible…” My pulse races and my skin grows cold and clammy. For sixty years, I’ve had recurring nightmares about the battlef
ield. I’ve had nightmares in which I’ve watched children die, nightmares in which I didn’t do anything to prevent the carnage. “What if I’m a monster, Vulrux?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know why you were in that underground lab. Only the scientists know that. But,” he adds, his voice calm and quiet, “I know you, Dennox. You’ve been my friend for sixty years. You are not a monster. You are a good man.”
“Am I? I’m a soldier, Vulrux. My soul is stained and tattered.”
“You were sent into battle by the High Emperor Dravex,” he retorts. “You obeyed orders and did your duty. My uncle will be tested in the Gardens of Caeron, not you.”
I’m not reassured. “I thought I could live with not knowing what lay in my past,” I say harshly. “But things have changed now. Harper is our mate, but until I know the truth about why I was imprisoned at the citadel, I won’t touch her.”
Vulrux stares at me. “You are Draekon,” he says after a long pause. “Your dragon will not allow you to resist her.”
“It doesn’t matter.” In the dining room, Thrax must have finished preparing the meal, because he’s now throwing bone knives at a target on the wall, practicing the smooth strokes that help us bring down the argangana. “The only thing I have left is my honor. If I am capable of hurting Harper, then it does not matter what the dragon inside me wants. I will fall on my sword before I take that risk.”
My words are a lie. Already, I’m finding it difficult to resist the tug I feel toward her. Already, I’ve been telling myself that I won’t be able to hurt my mate… I’m making excuses because I’m attracted to the golden-haired human woman.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Vulrux asks harshly. “That you plan on killing yourself?” He draws himself up to his full height, and when he speaks, he speaks with the authority of the Highborn. “I, Vulrux, Thirdborn of Zoraht, forbid it. There will be no more death.”
“I didn’t bring you here to ask for permission, Highborn. I was hoping that you might be able to find a way to bring back the memories. Perhaps an herb? A potion? This planet teems with medicinal plants. Is there something here that could recover my missing years?”
“Ah.” Vulrux realizes he jumped to conclusions, and to his credit, looks sheepish. “Forgive me.”
His apology is unexpected. Vulrux is the Thirdborn of Zoraht. Only three people in the High Empire were more powerful than he was, the High Emperor Dravex, Arax, and Lenox, yet both Arax and Vulrux can admit when they are in the wrong.
“I can’t think of any plant that improves the memory,” he continues. “But there is still hope, Dennox. There is always hope. On her world, Viola Lewis devoted herself to the study of plants. Sofia Menendez is a healer. We can use their help. We will find a way to bring your memories back.”
A thin tendril of hope coils around my heart. On the prison planet, I’ve found the freedom I never had as one of the Zoraken. I don’t need to kill. I don’t need to wage war in the name of the High Emperor.
Underneath the hope though, is a deep well of unease.
The truth will either set me free, or it will trap me forever.
Harper:
I find Viola alone. “Where are your pet dragons?” I ask her. Then my brain catches up with my mouth, and I realize that that might not be the most diplomatic of openings. “Sorry. I meant Arax and Nyx.”
She chuckles. “I quite like the sound of pet dragons,” she says. “Come on in. You have no idea how good it is to see you up and about. You want something to drink?”
I stare at her. “There are drinks on this planet?”
She rolls her eyes. “Harper,” she says patiently. “On Earth, humans have been making beer for over seven thousand years. The Zorahn and the Draekon are alien races, but they’re not that different from us. Yes, they have drinks. Want some kunnr wine? It tastes like a thin vanilla milkshake, but packs one hell of a punch.”
“Sure.” I sit down on a long wooden bench. “Umm, I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”
Viola hands me a red wooden cup. “No worries,” she says easily. “You’d just woken up from a coma, and we threw a lot of information at you. We told you that you were stuck on this planet, and then you found out you have two mates. I’d probably have reacted the same way.”
I take an experimental sip of the beverage. Viola’s described it perfectly. It tastes like a very smooth, very alcoholic milkshake, and it is delicious. I’ve got to see if Dennox and Vulrux can rustle me up some of this stuff.
“Would you?” I ask her. “You seem happy here, Vi. You’re coping much better than I am.” My lips twist. “I can’t seem to get past ‘I’m stuck on an alien planet with no hope of rescue.’”
“I’m being practical, Harper. I’m living in the present, and enjoying what I have.” She gazes into her drink. “My father died of leukemia,” she says quietly. “I spent most of his illness in denial. I read research papers. I talked to doctors, hoping he could qualify for experimental cures. If I could go back, you know what I would do instead?” She looks sad. “I’d hug my father. I’d talk to him and do jigsaw puzzles with him, drink whiskey with him and tell him that I love him.”
She takes a deep breath. I pretend not to notice the tears in her eyes. “Arax and Nyx love me,” she says. “And I love them. If I start thinking about the possibility of getting rescued, I will once again fail to enjoy what I have. Right now, I’m safe. I’m secure, and I’m loved. It’s better than what I had back on Earth.”
The mood in the room has turned serious. Time for some levity, Harper Boyd-style. “If Arax and Nyx are as well endowed as Vulrux and Dennox,” I quip, grinning widely at her, “you’re very well-loved.”
Her eyes go wide, and she chokes on her cup of wine. “You slept with them?” she asks when she stops coughing. “When did this happen?”
“That came out wrong,” I say hastily, my cheeks flushing. “Of course I didn’t sleep with them. They took me swimming, and they didn’t have swim trunks, so I caught a glimpse of their, umm, equipment.”
“Oh.” She eyes me curiously. “Did you have fun?”
I know what Viola’s hinting at. Rather than beat around the bush, I get right to the point. “I like having choices, Vi. I don’t like other people planning my life for me. Yeah, Vulrux and Dennox are nice. Back on Earth, I’d have gone out with them if they’d asked me on a date. But here, they’re my mates, and we’re supposed to spend time together so that we can complete the mating bond, and I don’t even know what the mating bond is.” My lips tighten with frustration. “Pardon me for not being ecstatic about the situation.”
“I don’t think anyone really understands the mating bond,” she replies. “Here’s what I know. When two Draekons find their mate, they transform into dragons. But the transformation is only half-complete at that stage, and the Draekons cannot change at will. For that to happen, the trio needs to consummate the relationship.”
“So Vulrux and Dennox turned into dragons when they saw me?” I ask Viola. “Is that how everyone’s so certain they’re my mates?”
“Not exactly,” she says. “They had a mate in the past, but she was killed before the bond could be completed.”
“What?” I gape at the brown-haired botanist. “Killed? How? Why?”
She looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I should tell you the details,” she murmurs. “I don’t think Vulrux and Dennox like talking about it, and I don’t want to gossip.”
“Viola, this isn’t idle gossip. We’re talking about my life here.”
“Fair enough,” she admits. She tells me the story, and I listen, transfixed. When she’s done, my emotions are in turmoil. I’ve been pouting all day because I’m trapped on this planet, but as I’m beginning to realize, everyone here is a captive, and everyone has a story of heartbreak. Poor Dennox and Vulrux. “When you showed up, they knew you were their mate,” Viola concludes. “You’re their second chance.”
“Ah.” Understanding and a deep unease
fills me. “Arax is expecting trouble with the other exile batch, isn’t he? That’s why he wants Vulrux and Dennox to be able to transform freely.”
“I think he’s preparing for the worst-case scenario,” she replies.
This situation sucks. If the five women are being held prisoner, then I want to do whatever it takes to rescue them. Except it means that I’m going to have to sleep with the two men. “So I’m to be the sacrificial lamb,” I say, my tone tinged with bitterness. “That’s why I’m being forced to spend time with Dennox and Vulrux.”
Come on, Harper. You enjoy Dennox and Vulrux’s company. Why are you acting like they are horrible people?
Viola seems to understand my conflicting emotions. “I’ll talk to Arax,” she says. “Harper, I promise you. Nobody’s going to make you do anything you don’t want. We’ll find a way to rescue the other women, with or without Vulrux and Dennox transforming. Besides,” she adds, “Ryanna and Sofia might find Draekon mates. Ryanna likes Thrax.”
“And Sofia?”
To my surprise, she doesn’t respond right away. “To be honest,” she says after a long pause, “I thought Sofia and Vulrux had a thing going.”
I’m shocked by the surge of jealousy that runs through my body. “Why?”
“They’re both doctors,” she replies. “They’ve spent a lot of time together. Mostly focused on treating you,” she adds hastily. She shrugs. “The Draekons have been celibate for a very long time,” she adds. “I thought that maybe the two of them would hook up, that’s all.”
“Won’t that trigger this magic mating bond?”
“I think the magic mating bond needs a threesome,” she quips. “Regular, old-fashioned, non-kinky, one-on-one sex is still allowed, as far as I know.”
The thought of Vulrux and Sofia having sex makes me feel sick. I don’t like it. Not one little bit. Since the moment I woke up, everyone’s been talking about Vulrux and Dennox as if they’re mine, and evidently, my subconscious agrees.
