by Anna Carven
Was it just his imagination, or did the creature’s vir burn just a little more brightly than the others? It didn’t matter, really. He needed to feed, and this creature had strayed away from its pack.
Easy prey.
Mine.
He swooped.
Chapter Two
Esania looked up at the darkening sky, marveling at how it had turned such a spectacular shade of violet. On Khira, the sunsets were shades of purple and maroon, not fiery orange like they were on the Old Planet, Earth. No, here they more closely resembled a good Mars sunset, a sight she didn’t miss one bit.
A warm breeze swept past, rippling the light fabric of her sea-green tunic, flicking the ends of her braids.
In the distance, five of her attendants picked tiny edible orange berries under the watchful eyes of their violet-skinned guards. Esania had intentionally separated herself from the group, choosing to pick berries several meters away, because she knew the women felt uncomfortable in her presence, and she just wasn’t in the mood for stiff, awkward conversation.
When one of the Vradhu guards followed her, she’d waved him away, wanting to be alone for just a few precious minutes. By now she was well aware of the dangers of the Ardu-Sai, but he hadn’t gone far—only a few steps away—and the purple-skinned warrior could move like lightning if he wanted to.
Besides, one of the mercenaries, Zahra, was standing watch on a small rocky outcrop, her hand on her particle gun. The modified human was a fierce, wily fighter, and with her illegal bio-implants, she was much stronger than Esania.
They were protected.
What was the worst that could happen?
Just a few minutes.
So she could breathe.
So she could think.
There was something about tribal living that she found utterly stifling. All those people—Vradhu, human, bionic-human—living in such close proximity, sheltering in communal structures made of wood and stone.
She wasn’t used to it.
For a moment, she visualized her past life on Mars, where she’d been a Primean senator, one of the elected delegates of the powerful State Council. Everything had been orderly, sanitized, predictable. She’d been in control.
Then, with the revelation of a single secret, her life had fallen apart, making her question everything.
Esania plucked another of the berries from its thorny bush—a round thing the size of her thumbnail—and studied it closely, struck by its strangeness, its alienness; the way its smooth red skin took on a metallic sheen in the dim light. Tchirrin, the Vradhu called them. For some reason, these particular fruits were bitter during the heat of the day and sweet in the evening, which was when the Vradhu and the humans would come down to the valley to collect them by the basket-load. They could be eaten fresh or roasted over an open fire until the purple flesh became soft and gooey inside.
Strange.
Everything on Khira was strange, and almost everything appeared to have thorns, even the inhabitants.
A sudden burst of sunlight hit her face, a last gasp from the setting sun as it slipped below the the horizon, cloaking the valley in deep shadow.
The sun was setting on Khira, and it was spectacular, a sight as powerful and alien as the striking ink-faced warriors who called themselves Vradhu.
Oh, and they just happened to have tails; long, black, dextrous things with poison barbs at the end. Calexa, the captain of their doomed escape-transport, had told her about that particular quirk… amongst other things.
Crazy woman. Esania shuddered. Calexa Acura made no effort to hide the fact that she’d formed an intimate relationship with not just one, but two of the intimidating aliens.
Ares and Ares’s clone. With wings.
She shuddered.
Calexa was rather proud of her Vradhu conquests.
Calexa had never said anything, and Esania was too cultured to ask, but… how was such a union even possible?
That Calexa, she was mad.
Only a human would even think of doing something so ridiculous…
No, don’t think like that.
Esania stifled her typically Primean instincts, trying not to fall into old patterns of thinking. They weren’t in the Serakhine anymore, and Calexa was free to choose who she involved herself with. Esania should probably respect it, even if she didn’t understand it.
Of course she didn’t understand it. After all, Esania’s kind were forbidden from seeking carnal pleasures.
Well, that was the official line, but slowly, she’d learned that Primeans weren’t as enlightened as they pretended to be. The constraints of Primean culture hadn’t stopped that asshole, Deputy Commander Kivik, from impregnating one of her girls.
He’d forced her, and somehow, Sara’s contraceptive implant had failed.
What were the chances of that? Statistically, a million-in-one.
What a mess.
Serakhine law was not influenced by emotion. Serakhine law was absolute. The man, the woman, and her unborn child would be sentenced to death. Those that aided and abetted—no matter what their station—would be sentenced to a life of hard labor on Kalluq-3.
If caught, all of the women in her entourage would be found guilty. They’d helped to conceal Sara’s pregnancy for months.
Primeans were notoriously obsessive about protecting the purity of the genetic pool, and cross-species coupling was a Capital One offense, so that moron Kivik had tried to cover up the entire thing, with near-disastrous results.
That was why Esania had and her attendants had escaped on a dark-market mercenary transport run by a crew of unhinged bionically enhanced female mercenaries. In order to conceal her identity, she’d taken the moniker ’S’. It was, for want of a better word, complicated.
Then things had gone horribly wrong. Out of nowhere, a Paxnath raider ship had attacked, and Esania had her suspicions about its origins. They’d had no choice but to enter the Silverstream, an uncharted parallel dimension where ships frequently went missing.
Now she knew what happened to said ships when they went missing.
That’s how they’d ended up here on this wild, primitive planet, where there wasn’t a shred of civilization to be found.
Esania sighed as she dropped a handful of berries into the small woven basket that hung at her side. It occurred to her that they might never leave this place.
She could die here. If some venomous plant or creature didn’t get her, then perhaps she’d succumb to some terrible disease or infection.
There was no advanced medical care here, after all.
A shrill whistle split the air, and the Vradhu warrior watching over her gestured, making a V sign with his fingers.
“Kaala,” he called, sounding a little bored. In Vradhu, the word meant let’s go. Esania knew only a few basic words in their language, and kaala was one of them. Infuriatingly, they liked to use it a lot, in the most gratingly insistent tone.
Grumpy bastards. Vradhu warriors were a proud, surly lot, and apparently, they didn’t stoop to such menial tasks as collecting berries. It was their job to stand guard while the women worked.
Huh. What archaic nonsense.
Esania snorted as she made her way down the rocky slope, wet fern-shaped leaves brushing against her boots. She wasn’t used to being ordered around by anyone, but here she had no choice but to go with it. They were on an unfamiliar planet, surrounded by dangerous flora and fauna, and for reasons she didn’t truly understand, these Vradhu had chosen to separate from their tribe and protect them.
She suspected it had something to do with Calexa and her unlikely union with Ares, but she didn’t really understand what had happened on the Hythra, and the Medusa’s crew were being infuriatingly cryptic.
At that moment, something made her look up. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, but more of a feeling. A tingling sensation ran over her scalp and down the back of her neck…
Whoosh.
A fierce gust of wind engulfe
d her from above. She felt it before she heard it. Suddenly, she was inside a vacuum devoid of sound and movement.
There was only pressure.
Immense pressure.
The Vradhu guard was shouting, but she couldn’t hear him.
Whomp. Whomp.
The air around her became a torrent, a battering ram, smashing down upon her from above. Esania reflexively turned around brought her hands up over her head, ducking down as she tried to run. The cured ends of her braids whipped around her face, stinging her cheeks.
Three of the Vradhu peeled off from the main group, running toward her, their war-spears raised high, their black-and-purple faces twisting into expressions of pure fury.
One of them—the leader—was Calexa’s fearsome lover, the one called Ares, who had emerged from the wreck of the Hythra sporting a pair of menacing black wings.
He sprinted toward her, a terrible war-cry erupting from his throat.
“Esania, get down!” From her vantage point, Zahra aimed her gun.
Esania dropped to the ground.
Zahra fired.
Blam!
Time slowed to a standstill. She scrambled to her feet.
Steeling herself, she looked up…
And saw a horror that was supposed to have died with the doomed alien ship.
Drakhin!
Only this one was different.
Massive pale wings blotted out the remaining daylight.
She gasped.
It—he—was completely naked. She knew the Drakhin was a he, because with that body, he couldn’t possibly be anything else.
Power. He was sheer power. Broad, powerful shoulders, pale arms bulging with corded muscle, sculpted chest and rippling stomach, massive…
Oh, my.
A certain part of his anatomy was on full view, and it was… impressive. She had to force herself to look away.
A pale winged demon was bearing down on her, possibly to kill her, and all she could do was stare at his cock.
Move, idiot.
To her dismay, the blast from Zahra’s particle gun hadn’t even grazed the alien. Why had Zahra missed?
Too close. With growing horror, Esania understood. From where Zahra was standing, it was a risky shot.
Her attacker was too close to her. Zahra could easily have killed her.
A fearsome pair of golden eyes stared down at her, and for a moment, she was utterly transfixed.
She wanted time to freeze so she could simply stare at the impossible creature, but he moved so fast he became a blur.
Heading straight for her.
Move!
But she wasn’t fast enough.
A flash of white split the darkness as a huge pair of arms surrounded her, holding her so tightly the breath was pushed out of her chest.
She tried to fight, tried to resist, but it was futile. The creature that had captured her was impossibly strong; his arms felt like folded steel around her waist.
Esania’s self-control shattered.
She screamed.
Impossibly, the creature relented, hissing in pain as he released her. A long spear protruded from his calf. How? Behind him, the Vradhu were screaming their visceral war-chants. One of them must have attacked him!
Move!
Esania didn’t waste time. She pushed his arms away and ran as fast as she could, stumbling over the uneven ground. The Vradhu surged in her wake, hissing loudly as they surrounded the Drakhin.
Were they going to kill him?
She wasn’t planning on sticking around to find out.
Chapter Three
Imril’s vision blurred then sharpened as he dropped into a steep dive. The air rushed around him, becoming a deafening roar in his ears as he gained velocity.
It was as if he were staring down a dark tunnel, transfixed by the light at the end. All he could see was that mesmerizing vir, growing brighter and brighter, driving him completely mad as he swooped.
It was his for the taking.
At the very last moment, the creature turned and looked up, an expression of sheer horror crossing its face.
The strangest, most vivid green eyes stared back at him, widening in fear as he took a deep breath and extended his arms, preparing to grab his prize.
The Vradhu were running, their spears raised.
Blam! A blast of energy hit him in his chest, sending excruciating pain through his body, but it didn’t stop him. He was already in descent.
Imril drew on the last reserves of his strength and beat his wings. The creature tried to run, but Imril was already there, his wings whipping up a small vortex that sent small leaves and twigs flying into the air.
His feet hit the ground.
His hands closed around the creature’s waist and he inhaled its vir, absorbing just just a small taste as it radiated off the creature’s slender body.
Got you.
As tendrils of golden energy flowed into Imril’s body, he stiffened, his eyes rolling back into his head. For a brief moment, all he saw was her golden aura.
What is this?
He had never tasted vir this sweet in his entire life, and he had lived for a very long time.
Could it be…?
Powerful. Intoxicating. Dangerous… for the Source. It took all of his self-control to avoid completely draining the creature right then and there. With a single touch, he could so easily kill this fragile thing, and as hungry as he was, he knew that once he laid his hands on its bare skin, once he tapped into its vir directly, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
No, he needed to draw from it in a controlled manner, in a place where he could separate himself when he needed to, slowly, gradually, letting the Source build up its reserves between feedings.
It would take several feedings until he was back to full strength.
A soft gasp escaped the creature’s throat, and with great effort, he stayed his hand, disgust welling up inside him at his loss of control.
And he realized that his cock had gone hard, and that hadn’t happened in a very long time, and when it had, the reaction had never been as strong as this.
Control yourself. You need to get out of here first.
A strange choice lay before him. He could drain the creature completely—right here, right now—and make his escape, or he could take it with him.
A risk.
But what a reward if he pulled it off.
A vir-slave with energy so rich and potent it made him swoon. Just the tiniest taste, and he was already addicted.
Imril didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he held back from touching its light brown skin. Right now, he was so hungry for vir that he feared he might kill the creature if he fed outright.
No, he couldn’t feed here.
First, he—they—needed to get away.
He could do it without harming it. Just the tiny amount of energy he’d already taken was enough to give him the strength to get away. This creature… it was exceptional. He hadn’t tasted anything as powerful, ever.
Now all he needed to do was get them airborne…
He pulled the creature against him, and its strange clothing created the thinnest of barriers between them, preventing him from draining it completely. For that, he needed skin-to-skin contact.
Still, he inhaled what he could of its vir, reveling in the sheer purity of it as the golden energy surrounded him, giving him just enough strength to take to the skies once more.
But then the creature screamed, a shrill, piercing sound that savaged his sharp hearing. It fought, and for such a small, soft skinned being, it was surprisingly strong.
Thud!
Something pierced his calf, something sharp and heavy, sending a fresh bolt of agony through his body. His arms loosened, and the creature slipped out of his grasp.
How had he missed its approach? Clearly, he’d been far too distracted by his alluring catch.
Thud!
A body slammed into him with incredible force. He didn’t even have tim
e to fold his wings properly before he was sent reeling, and it took all his strength to roll to one side and right himself. Grunting in pain, he spun and came face to face with a winged Vradhu.
Winged Vradhu? Impossible!
But there was no time to ask questions. Imril lunged to one side, narrowly avoiding a vicious war-spear that shot past his left cheek. The Vradhu attacked, whipping out its tail and extending its barb.
Imril growled as he danced away. Vradhu venom was bad news. “You dare attack me?” Drawing upon memories of a different time, when a Vradhu warrior wouldn’t dare attack a Drakhin at first sight, he spoke in fluent Vradhu. “Don’t you know me?”
“I know you, Imril,” the Vradhu grated as he sank the poisonous barb into Imril’s side. “Do not think you can take whatever you want just because you are the so-called Lightbringer. Things have changed since you disappeared.”
“Oof.” Well now, that was unexpected. This warrior was fearless; a real insolent bastard. Imril gasped and wrapped his hands around the Vradhu’s tail, trying to dislodge the barb. Blood seeped through his fingers; cold, sticky, cerulean-hued—his own. After sleeping for so long in Za’s smoldering belly, he was surprised that any blood flowed through his veins at all.
Hunters closed in on him from both sides as the vir-creature scrambled backward, a look of abject terror on its face.
Careful. In his weakened state, they could do him some serious damage. He had to shake them off before they realized how weak he really was.
Screwed if you do, screwed if you don’t.
He channelled his vir. Normally, it was a raging torrent, plentiful and easy to tap into, but now it had become a trickle, probably less than a thousandth of his full power.
And that was only what he’d taken from the alien.
Because he hadn’t fed for so very long. Because the Naaga servants that once supplied him with a continuous flow of vir were no longer there.
Because the last time he’d taken the vir of a Vradhu female, he’d endured the vicious scratches of her nails across his face when he’d spurned her advances.
