by Lili Zander
I blink. Golden threads seem to run between my body and his, and link us to a third. The fragile woman standing ankle deep in the river. Our mate, that voice in my soul repeats.
My wings unfurl from my back. A roar builds in my chest. Rivers of rage run through my blood. The beast in me acts on instinct. The Dwals dare attack our mate? I will destroy them.
Almost as one, Arax and I open our mouths and exhale, and we breathe a pure golden fire that burns the attacking Dwals to a crisp.
Our mate’s wild gaze darts from us to the charred, blackened remains of the predators that attacked her. Then, she slowly crumples into a dead faint.
The instant she loses consciousness, the thread connecting the three of us seems to snap. A moment of blackness, and I am lying stunned on the ground. When I rise to my feet, I am, once again, a man.
The woman’s skin is turning purple, the stain of the kilpei poison spreading through her bloodstream.
Blast. This is bad. If the kilpei toxin reaches her brain, she will fall into a long coma. She might even die.
Our mate, the beast inside me insists. Keep her safe.
The grass rustles around us. More Dwals, in all likelihood. We need to get out of here.
I sling the woman over my shoulder, and I begin to run for the safety of the caves at the base of the Na’Lung cliffs.
5
Viola:
With a sigh of relief, I realize I must be dreaming.
My skin feels prickly, my body is feverish, and my throat hurts. My stomach aches with hunger, and I can’t remember when I last ate. On Earth, a voice in my head says helpfully. Five days ago.
That thought should worry me, but since I’m clearly in the middle of a dream, I keep my eyes closed and allow the images to flicker through my head.
I’m surrounded by three massive wild animals with large fangs and vicious-looking claws. They advance on me. I’m trapped between the river and the predators, with nowhere to run. I step back until water swirls around my ankles, but something pricks my skin, and I stop, not daring to wade into the river further and risk getting bitten again.
Two men run toward me at full speed, holding wickedly curved knives with serrated blades in their hands. In unison, they throw them. The weapons slice into the creature closest to me, and it crumples to the ground, dead.
When I see them, a wild exultation fills my head. My heart hammers in my chest, and I can’t tear my eyes away from my rescuers.
Both men are seven feet tall. They wear crimson loincloths and nothing else. Their forearms are covered with black tattoos. One has shoulder-length hair, and the other’s is shorter and chestnut brown. Their bodies are chiseled muscled perfection. Their chests are streaked with swirled indigo markings, and their nipples are pierced with red barbells.
My insides clench, hard. The pounding in my head increases, and it’s getting difficult to breathe.
Focus, Vi.
Other than their height and coloring, they look human. A little Conan-the-Barbarian in their fashion sense, but if they’re friendly, I can deal with all the hard, rippling muscles on display.
Oh yeah.
I wasted so much time staring at the Prison Planet hotties, I forgot about the fact that three tiger-like things were about to attack. The two remaining predators move closer to me, swiping their claws in my direction.
Then something surreal happens. The men fall to their knees, and they change. As I watch, their bodies morph and distort. Their loincloths rip, exposing their large veiny cocks, bronze in color, each thicker than my wrist and more than ten inches long.
I’m so fascinated by their umm, equipment, that I almost miss the main event. The two men in front of me are transforming into dragons. Yup. The mythical creatures that aren’t supposed to exist. Claws, scales, fangs, tails, and huge, leathery wings. When the tiger-dog-animals snarl, the dragons rise, their long scaly necks adding several feet to their already towering height.
Even as beasts, I can see the rage in their eyes. Fear grips my heart as they swing their giant heads toward me, and open their jaws. A sheet of flame erupts from them, burning the creatures on either side of me to nothingness.
I can still feel the heat from the fire on my skin.
If it’s a dream, should you be able to feel? The voice inside me asks pointedly.
Of course it’s a dream, I reply. Men cannot turn into dragons. That’s impossible.
Blackness descends.
A heartbeat later, I’m being carried through the jungle, thrown over the broad shoulder of one of the men like a sack of potatoes. He’s running, and each time his feet hit the ground, a shock goes through my head. This isn’t a very good part of the dream. It feels like someone’s sticking a hot poker in my eye. Maybe I should wake up.
But it’s not just my head that hurts. My right ankle feels like it’s on fire, and it seems easier to sleep. I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off.
When awareness returns, I’m lying on the ground, naked. My skin burns and throbs. My mind feels foggy, and every time I draw breath, pain fills my lungs.
The dark-haired alien is leaning toward me, his lips inches from mine. I want to reach for him, for both of them. There’s a throbbing in my sex, a wanton, insistent heat that begs for their touch. The layers of civilization have been stripped away, and what’s left is raw, primitive lust.
Dream Viola is a lot more brazen than the real Viola.
“She’s reacting badly to the kilpei.”
Translating Old-Zor to English, my earpiece pipes up. Inaccuracies may occur.
It’s weird that the translator is working in my dream.
My brain feels like it’s submerged in a tub of molasses. If the translator is working, then they must be… “You’re Zorahn,” I croak out. “Are you the prisoners? Beirax said something about you.”
They ignore my words and bend over me, worry etched in their faces. “We’ve got to extract the toxin from her blood, Arax,” the dark-haired one says.
The man with the shoulder-length hair is Arax then. That’s a nice name. “Hello,” I say again. “I’m right here. My name is Viola Lewis. It’s nice to meet you, I think. Unless you’re going to burn me with that crazy dragon fire shit.”
You’re babbling, Vi, a small, coherent part of my mind says. There’s a toxin in your blood. Something on this planet attacked you. Just like Harper. You’re going into a coma.
Arax gazes long and deep into my eyes, and my heartbeat speeds up. His eyes are sea-blue in color, and a woman could drown in their depths. “It’s spreading fast,” he says. “We need to suck the kilpei out.”
Wait, what?
Getting on their knees, they pick up an ankle each. Their lips lock onto my burning flesh and suck hard. My skin tingles at their touch, and a welcoming coolness spreads through me.
Yeah. I’m definitely dreaming, and while I’ve had some strange dreams before, this one takes the cake. It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man, and my subconscious must be telling me to get some nookie, because why else would I imagine two aliens licking every inch of my body?
Whatever you do, Vi, don’t wake up.
Their tongues caress a path up my body. My legs quiver, but they ignore the target between my thighs and continue up my bare hips, mouths sealed on my flesh, following the purple stain up my torso.
My hands fall to caress their heads. One of the men, the dark-haired one whose name I don’t know, looks at me intently, his eyes blazing with desire. The heat in his gaze makes me gasp, and I let my hands fall away. I’m going to die. If not from the toxin, then from explosive lust.
The men’s mouths move to my breasts, and they suck on my nipples. I stifle a moan and writhe on the floor. Maybe it’s not polite for me to orgasm while they’re saving my life? They nibble kisses down every inch of my body, and everywhere their mouths land, my skin loses its fevered, prickly feeling.
“It’s working.” Arax’s voice fills with relief. “The kilpei is receding.�
�
The dark-haired man’s mouth meets mine in a soft kiss. The burning prickliness is replaced by a different kind of heat, one that makes my core ache with need. I squirm and part my legs, wordlessly begging for more.
Both men inhale sharply, and the dark-haired man pulls away. “The kilpei poison has made you weak,” he says gently. “Rest now, aida.”
The others, I think with a stab. Harper, Ryanna, and Sofia, left to fend for themselves in this dangerous place. Olivia, May, and the other women in stasis. Beirax and Raiht’vi. I should get back to the ship.
But the blanket of sleep presses down on me, firm and insistent, and I can’t rouse myself out of my half-slumber. It’s okay, Vi, I think sleepily, as tendrils of darkness coil over me. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a dream.
6
Arax:
“Tell me again,” Nyx says, once the woman is asleep, his voice vibrating with anger, “what you know about the Draekon mutation.”
There are only three people that have unfettered access to the ThoughtVaults of Zoraht, where the true story of the Draekons is written down. The High Emperor himself, the Firstborn, and the head of the Council of Scientists.
Nyx had no warning.
I lean back against the wall of the cave, my legs stretched in front of me. As Firstborn on Zoraht, I’ve been trained to keep secrets, but after sixty years in exile, it’s finally time to let some of them go. “Twelve hundred years ago,” I begin, “the scientists created the Draekons, a race of invincible warriors with the ability to shift into dragons.”
“Like we just did.”
I nod. “The scientists intended for the Draekons to be sterile.”
Nyx surveys me with his dark eyes. “The beast inside me,” he says, “insists that this woman is my mate. Our mate.”
Not just the beast inside Nyx. The beast inside me rages at me, demanding that I claim the woman. She is ours, it says. We must take her. We must complete the bond.
“Something went wrong,” I reply. “The gene mutated. Each mutation gave the Draekon race more power, and finally the ability to mate. But,” I swallow before I explain this next part, “for some reason—maybe because compatible females were few and far between—instead of a pair bond, Draekons form a triad.”
“A triad?” Nyx raises a brow.
“Two Draekons mate one woman.”
Nyx is silent for a very long time, examining his fingernails as if remembering them turning into claws. I resist the urge to do the same. Wonder still courses through me over the way our bodies morphed into such powerful creatures.
My skin tingles pleasantly when I look at the soft woman beside us. I rise and turn away, and it grows stronger, almost painful.
So the legends are true. The Draekons are tainted with darkness.
My mouth goes dry with fear. “My dragon,” I say, through stiff lips, placing a hand on my chest where the buzzing is the worst. “It wants to mate.”
Nyx’s brow creases. He looks from me to the woman, and rises as well, his hand over his chest. “I feel it, too.” His expression changes from wonder to horror. “This is why they sent us away,” he says quietly. “Are we animals, Arax? Do we fall on the woman and rut her, the way the beast inside me demands I do?”
I clench my hands into fists, willing the tingling to dissipate. When it does not, I center my mind as I was taught, and relief pours through me as the desperate need ebbs. The buzzing desire is there, but it is in the background, an annoying insect.
I want to pick our mate up, hold her and cradle her against my body, but I force back that need. The man in me will not take what is not freely offered, even though the dragon inside me yearns for the bonding to be complete. I will not force our mate.
“No.” I’m feeling the same storm of emotions that Nyx is. Even though we’ve been on this planet for sixty seasons, even though we’ve been forced to live in exile without the comfort of a woman’s touch, I’m not ready to surrender to the wild animal that prowls inside me. “I will not do that. Not while the man in me still has control.”
The ThoughtVaults speak of a Draekon rebellion and its swift, brutal suppression. When the Zorahn realized that their creations could turn against them, Kannix, High Emperor of Zoraht, ordered the scientists to create a disease that would eradicate the Draekons. And it was done.
An entire generation of Draekon warriors died, as did their offspring.
The Draekons were exterminated because they lost control. I cannot allow my resolve to weaken. Then Nyx asks the most important question, the one I haven’t yet answered.
“How do you transform into the beast?” He asks pensively. “Is it in the presence of imminent danger?”
Nyx isn’t going to like my answer.
“No.” I take a deep breath and recite the relevant passage from the ThoughtVaults. “An unmated Draekon shifts into the beast for the first time when he recognizes his mate. After that first shift, the Draekon is trapped and cannot shift until the bonding is complete.”
I lift my head up and meet his gaze squarely. “The creature inside wants to be free, Nyx. It rages at us to mate now, and the pressure’s only going to get worse as time goes on.”
“You’re telling me,” he says slowly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, “that sooner or later, the dragon will take over.”
I nod heavily. “Sooner or later,” I say, “we’re going to have to mate with her. There is no choice.”
7
Viola:
I’m not dreaming.
The two alien men who turned into dragons are sitting at the mouth of the cave, talking quietly. When I hear their words, I freeze.
Sooner or later, we’re going to have to mate with her. There is no choice.
My heart starts hammering in my chest. They’re talking about me. They mean to mate with me. The two of them. And I won’t have any choice in the matter because if I fight back, they’ll probably turn into dragons and burn me to a crisp.
There’s a moment of silence, and one of them turns his head toward me. I hold my breath and wonder if they’ll figure out I’m awake, but I get lucky because they continue their conversation. “The object we saw must have been a ship,” Arax says. “How else could she have got here?”
“It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” the other alien agrees. “It must be within a day’s walk of here. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go looking for it.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Nyx,” Arax says. “Uzzan is shrouded tonight. The rainy season is almost on us. We need to hunt before the lowlands flood.”
The rainy season is approaching, and the lowlands will flood.
That’s not good.
As best as I can tell, our ship is smack dab in the middle of the lowlands. Visions of rain pouring through the ship run through my mind. The water level rising, seeping into the stasis pods, drowning the others in their sleep... Stop that, Vi, I tell myself sternly. There’s no point imagining the worst case scenario.
But is that truly the worst-case scenario? These two alien dragon-men intend to mate with me. What happens when they find out there are eight other women on board the Fehrat 1?
Nothing good, I’m prepared to bet.
Here’s what you need to do, Vi. Distract them from searching for the ship. Don’t tell them about the other women, and at the first chance you get, escape back to the safety of Fehrat 1, and hope like hell that the High Emperor of Zoraht has sent a rescue party.
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s all I’ve got.
It is dark when I wake again. The temperature has cooled with the setting of the sun, and it is no longer stifling hot. I’m still naked. Instinctively, I grope for my top, but it’s nowhere in reach.
I drag myself to a sitting position. I’m as weak as a kitten. My head throbs, and my body aches all over.
My movements have roused the two alien men. The dark-haired man, Nyx, is at my side in a second. “Drink, aida,” he says, his eyes kin
d. He holds a curved leather sac to my lips.
My throat is parched, and I don’t bother asking if it’s safe. Right now, being poisoned is the least of my worries, so I drink deeply from the vessel.
Arax watches me. In the dim light of the twin moons, I can see that his face is wary. “Who are you?” he asks me as soon as I put down the water sac. “Where are you from?”
I should answer, I know, but I can’t stop thinking about their cocks. Earlier, right before they’d transformed into dragons, they’d been erect and extremely impressive. Nyx isn’t hard now, but the bulge underneath his loincloth still makes me swallow a gulp.
Nyx notices my gaze, and his lips curve into a cocky smile. The expression is very human and pretty damn irresistible. “You want to feel me between your legs, aida?” he asks. “The beast inside me hungers for you. It snarls, and it howls at me, demanding that Arax and I take you, bond with you and fulfill our destiny.” His eyes rake over my naked body. “Ask me to sink into you and I will,” he says huskily. “All you have to do is ask.”
Whoa there, buddy. Buy me dinner first.
Then again, who am I kidding? My body throbs under Nyx’s gaze. My nipples harden, and my pussy grows heavy, and I want to part my legs and feel his hard length thrust into my body. I might not understand the intensity of my need, but I can’t deny it.
Unlike Nyx, Arax’s expression stays stern. “Answer me,” he demands, his voice cold. “What do you want with us?”
His tone frightens me. I scramble to my feet, my fingers searching in the darkness for my space suit. “I don’t want anything from you.”
To my horror, I feel my eyes fill with tears. I’m on an alien planet. So far, I’ve been snarled at by three terrifying beasts, watched the two aliens in front of me transform into dragons, and nearly died when something bit me in the water. My belly rumbles with hunger. My skin feels fragile and paper-thin. My head still throbs in pain. I’m panicking at the idea that these dragons are going to mate with me, and I’m terrified that I’m never going to see Earth again.
