Draekon Desire: A Sci-Fi Dragon Shifter Menage Romance Boxed Set: Exiled to the Prison Planet: The Complete Collection

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Draekon Desire: A Sci-Fi Dragon Shifter Menage Romance Boxed Set: Exiled to the Prison Planet: The Complete Collection Page 57

by Lili Zander


  No more Chloe, a small voice inside me whispers. No more Aunt Priscilla and Uncle Fred. No more Seascape Grill. This is your chance for a fresh start.

  That’s true. This planet is primitive, but at least here, I’m free to be my own person.

  We sleep the first night in a small, stiflingly-hot treehouse. The next morning, pairs of Draekons start arriving with packets of breakfast. First, Paige’s two Draekons arrive, and then May’s, and then, when I’m starting to wonder if the two men who became dragons last night when they saw me have changed their mind about wooing me, they show up.

  Yesterday, the combination of coming out of stasis and flying through the air on dragon-back had left me sick to my stomach, and I barely had a chance to register them. This morning, after a good night’s sleep, I take them in, and they’re really hot.

  Both of them are sleekly muscled and tattooed. Their bodies could grace the cover of swimsuit magazines. That’s not what draws me to them though. It’s their eyes. Both men, who introduce themselves as Xanthox and Luddux, are eying me with warm concern as they hand me my breakfast. They seem nice. Kind.

  “Liorax and Zunix told us that your ship had crashed in the Lowlands,” one of them says quietly, drawing me aside so we can converse in private. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” His lips twist wryly. “Draekons are supposed to shift when they see their mate for the first time, but I’ll be honest, I thought it was a myth. I’m Xanthox.”

  His hair is short, golden-brown in color. He’s much taller than me, but then again, almost everyone is. At five-foot-one, I’m used to being the shortest person in the room.

  “I’m Felicity Rollins,” I reply, returning his smile. “I thought dragons were a myth too.”

  “And yet,” the other man says, “Here we are.” His dark brown hair is curly and unruly, and his cheeks, like Xanthox’s, are covered with stubble. His sapphire blue eyes rest on me, and there’s a trace of resigned amusement in them. “I’m Luddux. Welcome to our camp. I promise you, we’re usually better behaved than yesterday.”

  Pity. If they tore off their shirts and beat their chests, I’d appreciate the eye-candy.

  Over the next fifteen minutes, I get a quick history lesson from two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in real life. If Mr. George back in my old high school had been anything close to this handsome, I’d have paid a lot more attention in class. I learn that the Draekons have been here for sixty-five years, which makes them really old by human standards, but not by Zorahn standards. I find out that they live in treehouses because there are weird crab-like creatures that swarm at night, and they’ll eat anything in their way.

  “So, what now?” I ask when breakfast is over. “Yesterday, Liorax and Zunix told us that you’d try to woo us.” Woo. It feels like such an old-fashioned word. Like I’m in the South, wearing some big-hooped skirt, ready to receive a gentleman caller.

  “I’ve never done this before,” Luddux admits sheepishly. “Courted someone. It feels… intimidating.”

  “Oh, thank heavens, it’s not just me.” I beam at them, grateful beyond measure that they’re not pressuring me to put out right now. I’m not a fool. Aunt Priscilla and Uncle Fred have taught me that nothing is ever free. I know that at some point, I’ll have to give them something in exchange for the food and shelter they’re providing, and sex is the only commodity I have to trade in this world, but at least they’re being nice about it.

  Xanthox smiles at me. “Dariux is going to make some kind of formal announcement,” he says. “He likes to hear the sound of his own voice. But after that, do you want to go for a walk? Things are going to feel strange for a few weeks, I know, but Luddux and I will do everything in our power to ease this transition, Felicity Rollins.”

  He’s not lying. His voice is sincere, and I see nothing but kindness in his eyes.

  I take a deep breath, and some of the tension in my body eases. Strangely, I’m not afraid of these two men.

  I haven’t let myself get emotionally involved with anyone for a very long time, but I’m not on Earth anymore. I’m not the poor cousin anymore, the woman in hand-me-down clothes who smells like grease and fish guts and spends more than ten hours a day working in her family restaurant.

  I smile warmly at Luddux and Xanthox. “I’d really like that.”

  PRESENT…

  We fly for hours. It’s almost dusk by the time we arrive at the clearing.

  I’m finally home.

  Bolox and Narix come out to greet us, but Dariux, unfortunately, is nowhere to be seen. “He took his skimmer and went west,” Bolox tells Xan. “He said he’d be back tomorrow afternoon.”

  Lud heaves a sigh of frustration, but Xan takes the news in his stride. “Vulrux is skilled. He’ll stabilize the soldier. Don’t worry. We still have time.”

  “What soldier?” Narix interjects.

  They fill him in. I’m lost in my own thoughts. More tears well up in my eyes as I gaze on the treehouse that Xan and Lud built for me in better days. We’d been happy here once. Can we recapture that lost feeling, or is it too late?

  Lud and Xan have finished talking to the other two Draekons. “Come on,” Lud says, lifting my suitcase. “Let’s go up before the detsena appear.”

  We make our way to our home in silence. When we’re standing in front of it, Lud takes a deep breath. “Things haven’t been right between us for a while,” he says flatly. “I’ll understand if you want us to sleep somewhere else tonight. Both Xanthox and I still have our original homes.”

  I stare at him, my heart in my mouth. Is it over then? Is this his way of saying it?

  “But,” he continues. “If we’re going to stay with you, Felicity, then things are going to have to be different. You’ve been shutting us out. Something’s wrong, and you won’t tell us what. I’ve apologized over and over for snapping at you that day. If you can’t bring yourself to forgive me, just say so.”

  Even now, he’s not telling me the truth. Even now, he’s pretending that our estrangement is about the argument we had in the aftermath of Belfox and Herrix’s departure.

  Xan pulls something from his pack. “I have a present for you,” he says. He holds his palm out to me. There’s a jeweled bracelet. The stone looks like a diamond, except that it’s pinkish in color, and the chain is gold.

  He thinks what I want is a diamond bracelet?

  Yes, getting gifts was nice when he was wooing me, but now, it just feels like he's trying to buy my love. It makes me feel cheap and worthless.

  You have got to be shitting me.

  5

  Xanthox

  PAST…

  It’s my mother’s birthday, and I want to get her something special, something that’ll make her smile. I wake up at the crack of dawn, and I’m frowning in thought when Rissa, the servant that cleans my room, bustles in. When she sees me, she bows low and starts to retreat.

  Rissa is from Maarish. She isn’t Lowborn, and therefore she may enter my presence, but she is still inferior to the Highborn of the Zorahn Empire.

  At eight, and far away from the homeworld of Zoraht, I’m too young to understand the rigid societal rules that underpin our society. “Rissa, can you help me?”

  Her worn face creases into a kind smile. “Of course, my Lord,” she replies. “What may I do for you?”

  “I want to get my mother a present. I was playing with Bessir yesterday, and he said that there was a meadow in the vanderfields, where yellow flowers grow. Can you take me there?”

  Her lips tighten, and too late, I realize I shouldn’t have admitted to playing with her son. Poor Bessir. He’s going to be in trouble tonight. I’ll have to sneak out into the servants’ section of the palace to warn him.

  Rissa hesitates, but the woman has a kind heart. “If you’d like, my Lord Xanthox,” she replies. “Won’t your tutor miss you?”

  “He’s sick today.” Thank Caeron. Apothix takes my education very seriously and would have never allowed me a day off to search for flowers
for my mother.

  “Then meet me at the back entrance in two hours.”

  She’s true to her word. When I get to the back entrance two hours later, she’s waiting for me, as are two of my father’s ever-present guards. “The fields are an hour away, my Lord,” she says to me.

  An hour to get there, an hour to gather flowers, and an hour to get back. I’ll be just in time to catch my mother before she goes to the audience room to greet the people that have assembled to wish her well. “Let’s go.”

  We journey for an hour, heading south to the vanderfields. I don’t often come this way. There are no diarmod mines in the south, and as such, nothing that should interest the Lord of Daetumal.

  But the vanderfields are lovely and, unlike the rest of Alvi, unspoiled by the mines. The purple-tipped mountains appear to touch the sky, the trees are tall and green, and when we round a corner, there lies a meadow in front of me, covered with yellow wildflowers.

  “This is beautiful,” I whisper.

  Rissa nods, a trace of sorrow in her eyes. “When I was a girl,” she says, “Meadows like this were everywhere. Now, only a few remain.”

  One of the guards shoots her a sharp look, and she falls into silence.

  “I want to bring my mother here.” She’ll be as moved as I am, I’m sure of it. She’ll find the meadows magical. It’ll make her smile.

  As much as I’m tempted to linger, I hurry because I don’t want to miss her. I gather a small handful of the cheerful, yellow flowers and get back into the skimmer. The entire way back, I breathe in the light, fresh scent of the flowers and imagine the look of joy on my mother’s face.

  My mother is in her chambers, getting dressed. I enter, and she looks up. “What is it, Xanthox?”

  I produce the bundle of flowers from behind my back. “Happy birthday, mother.”

  She brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, child.” She takes the bouquet from me. “How pretty it is. Tell me, have you been by the audience hall? Is it crowded?”

  She’s barely looked at the flowers. I swallow back my reflexive protest, Apothix’s words in my mind. You will someday be the Ruling Lord of Daetumal. All of Alvi will be yours. Act like a Lord, not a spoiled child.

  “Busier than I’ve ever seen it, Lady Mala’vi,” I say formally.

  “Standing room only,” my father’s voice says. I look up to see him standing in the doorway. “There’s a delegation from the homeworld,” he adds. “High Emperor Dravex has sent an emissary.”

  My mother’s eyes fill with excitement. “He has?” She rises to her feet immediately. “We must not keep them waiting.”

  My father’s gaze sweeps over the room. He takes in the flowers and my slumped shoulders, and his lips twist. “You go ahead,” he tells her. “I’ll join you shortly.”

  She nods and leaves. My father, the Ruling Lord of Daetumal, strides into the room. “Xanthox,” he says. “Tell me about the flowers.”

  “I thought she’d like them.” My voice is small.

  “You’re young yet, my son, and your mistake is therefore forgivable.” His expression is stern. “Is this ragged bunch of flowers a gift worthy of the Ruling Lady of Daetumal?”

  I thought they’d make her happy. “No, my Lord.”

  “You’re right. It is not. Is this ragged bunch of flowers a worthy expression of who you are? Lord of Daetumal, my only son and heir? Does this gift reflect the grandeur of our house? The importance of our place in society?”

  The meadow had been so beautiful. For an instant, when I’d first seen it, it had taken away my breath.

  “No, my Lord.”

  He nods again. “These flowers,” he says, “are the gift of a servant. Cheap and worthless.” A slight smile creases his face. “But your mother is kind. She will not reproach you.” He pulls a small bag from his robes and hands it to me. “At the end of the audience, give her these, and she will love you once more.”

  I open the bag, and a necklace made of starstones tumbles out. Starstones are rare, found in the deepest mines of Alvi, and immensely valuable. “This,” my father says, “is a worthy gift. Do you understand, Xanthox?”

  If the necklace was sold, a family on Alvi could live well for forty years on the proceeds. Compared to that, what use is my small handful of flowers?

  “Yes, my Lord. I understand.”

  PRESENT…

  I hold out the bracelet. It had been an impulse. I’d seen the tears in her eyes, and I’d wanted to make it better. Some of the other human women have jewelry in their luggage, precious objects that they brought along from Earth, but Felicity wasn’t one of them.

  So I’d asked Zunix to use his syn to make her something that would make her smile.

  I thought she’d like the bracelet, but once again, I’ve completely misread the situation.

  At least her fury is better than her tears. Her brown eyes are sparkling with anger. “Fine,” she snaps. “You want me to stop shutting you out? Then return the favor. Try telling me what’s really going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She glares at us. “Seriously? You’re going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

  I glance at Luddux. Tell her the truth, I silently beg him. She’s angry that we worked with Herrix and Belfox. She doesn’t understand why we cooperated with them, and she blames us for the fact that they were able to escape the prison planet. Just tell her why. Please.

  But Luddux’s words take me by surprise. “Give us one week, Felicity,” he says. “A week in which we trade truth for truth. No matter the cost. And at the end, if you hate me,” he takes a deep breath, “I will understand, and I will leave.”

  He touches her hand. “Truth or Dare. You introduced us to the game when we first met,” he says quietly. “Will you play now?”

  6

  Felicity

  PAST…

  “Calder Reese asked me to prom,” I announce happily as I enter the Seascape Grill.

  Chloe looks up sharply. “He did? You?”

  I don’t notice the way her eyes have narrowed. “I keep pinching myself.” I’ve had a crush on Calder Reese for more than two years, but I didn’t think he even knew I existed. Calder is the quarterback of the football team, and he can have anyone he wants. Ever since he broke up with Dana Evers two months ago, every single girl in school has been breathless with anticipation, wondering who he’s going to take to the dance.

  Chloe’s on the cheerleading squad, but I’m just her poor sort-of-sister. The one with the torn backpack and the hand-me-down clothes. There’s nothing interesting or special about me, nothing that would cause the most popular boy in high school to take note.

  “Why you?” Chloe snarls. “What does he see in someone as drab and mousy as you?” Her lips tighten. “This is all because of Mr. Hershmann and his stupid system.”

  At the start of the senior year, Mr. Hershmann, who taught us chemistry, had announced that he wasn’t going to allow us to select our own lab partners. He’d read off his roster, paired the students alphabetically. Through pure chance, Calder Reese got paired with Felicity Rollins.

  And now, I’m going to prom with him. It still doesn’t feel real.

  “I have a headache,” Chloe announces, taking off her hair net and flinging it on the counter. She gives me a challenging look. “I don’t think I can work. Felicity can cover my shift, can’t she, mom?”

  “I have plans,” I say indignantly. “I have homework. I was supposed to be done by eight.”

  Priscilla Bernard has never once sided with me against her daughter. True to form, she pats Chloe on the back. “Take an aspirin and go to bed, honey,” she says, her voice sympathetic. “I’ll come up and check on you during my breaks.”

  She turns to me, her expression hard. “Your cousin isn’t well, and you don’t seem to care,” she says coolly. “Once again, you’re just thinking about yourself. After everything we’ve done for you. I’m disappointed by your attitude, Felicity.”

/>   I bite my lip to keep myself from replying. After all these years, I should know better than to argue. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll work the shift.” Six hours in front of the deep-fryer, and there’s no shampoo strong enough to get the smell of grease out of my hair. Sigh.

  Giving me a sly smile and a wink, Chloe walks out of the kitchen. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. Calder Reese asked you to the prom.

  I hug that thought to myself all evening long. My mother died when I was born. I’d been an accident, and my father wasn’t ready to shoulder the responsibility of raising a baby alone. When I was two, he’d left me with his sister Priscilla and her husband Fred, and he’d taken off to become an actor in Los Angeles.

  He’s never once called me, written to me, or emailed me. My aunt and uncle, angry and resentful about taking care of another child, treat me like help. I work five evenings a week in the family restaurant, but I don’t get paid a salary. Wages? My aunt had said once, her expression shocked. We took you in and gave you a home, and you want to be paid for helping your family?

  Calder Reese asked me to prom. In the unending gray of my life, it’s the one bright spot.

  Until Chloe ruins it. Two days later, Calder comes up to me in chemistry, his shoulders stiff, his eyes sliding away from me. “Umm, I have to cancel on you, Felicity,” he murmurs. “I’m seeing Chloe now.”

  “You are?” I stare at him, sick to my stomach. But I’m in love with you, Calder.

  He can’t look at me. “Aww, Felicity. Be cool. No harm done, right? We were just buddies.”

  “I gave him a blowjob in the men’s locker room,” Chloe shrugs when I confront her about it. “Oops.” She tilts her head to one side and gives me a sympathetic look. “I was doing you a favor, Felicity. You should thank me. You didn’t think you could actually go to prom, did you? Where the hell were you going to get money to buy a dress? Or were you planning to attend in your torn jeans and too-large sweatshirt?”

 

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