A wave of angry sound fills the clearing. “No.”
We’re losing control. The men have become a mob now. They’re not thinking clearly. Blood is running hot in their veins. I can feel their rage, their anger, their determination to protect their human mates.
“Is it a plant?” Olivia whispers. “Do you think Herrix killed that guy?”
Zunix shakes his head. “I don’t know what he’s doing,” he says softly. “I don’t know if I should stop this or not. I don’t even know if I can.”
“They think they can attack us and steal our women,” Herrix shouts. “They think we are going to stand aside and watch, passive and afraid. Are we going to let that happen?”
“No,” everyone shouts again.
Every instinct tells me that Herrix is up to something, but like Zunix, I don’t know what to do. Jorix is dead. Someone killed him. Who? Why?
“We must set guards around the perimeter of our camp,” Belfox says. “We must patrol the skies. If they have transformed, they will be able to rain fire down on us.”
“Never,” Luddux screams. “We will burn them first.”
Just then, Bolox points to the sky. “Look,” he exclaims. “There, coming in from the east. Do you see something?”
I follow his gaze, and I see it. Two dots on the horizon, growing larger as they approach rapidly toward our camp.
Two dragons.
One crimson red, and the other as black as night.
Six Draekons in our camp can transform at will, and they are all here. These dragons aren’t ours. They have to be from the other exile batch.
Snarls of rage fill the clearing. The ground shakes beneath our feet as one by one, each of the six Draekons shifts into his dragon and unfurls his wings. “Attack,” Herrix screams. “Kill them.”
I can only watch, frozen with horror, as the six dragons take to the skies. They surround the two Draekons, and someone—it’s Luddux, impulsive and hotheaded as ever—opens his jaw wide and exhales a stream of fire.
The dragon trapped inside me roars in rage at the senseless violence. There are six of us and only two of them. We have them surrounded. There’s no need to burn them; the two outsiders cannot go anywhere.
But the others follow Luddux’s lead. The sky fills with flame and smoke.
“Oh no,” Olivia puts a hand over her mouth as the black dragon’s wing catches on fire. The crimson dragon dives in front of his companion, but it’s too late to protect him. The injury is too great, and the black dragon starts to fall, tumbling, wheeling and gathering speed as he hurtles toward the ground.
The red dragon makes a valiant effort to save his friend, diving in pursuit, but there’s not enough time. I watch, my heart in my mouth as the two dragons streak head-first toward the ground.
Then there’s a thunderous noise, and the dragons crash into the cold still waters of Lake Ang.
Zunix is already running toward them. “Get the boat,” he screams. “They will transform back to men when they lose consciousness. We can’t let them drown.”
I can only hope it isn’t too late.
19
Olivia:
I can swim, but I’m no Draekon. Created for battle, the men have speed and strength far beyond even the most elite soldiers back on Earth. Zunix and Liorax race to the lake, moving so fast that their bodies are a blur, and then they dive in. Paige and May’s mates follow.
Instead of diving into the water, I run to Zunix’s house. With shaking fingers, I loosen the ropes holding the canoe tied in the air and lower it into the water. “Use the boat,” I scream at the nearest Draekons.
Yasix hears me. He changes direction, swimming toward the boat. He pulls himself into the small canoe and grabs the paddle in the bottom. Now that he has the boat, I try to locate Zunix and Liorax. Where are they? What if the dragons haven’t shifted back to men, and what if they attack my mates instead?
My mates.
I guess I’ve figured out where my allegiances lie.
Minutes tick by. Finally, Liorax emerges from the water, dragging a dark-haired man behind him. I shudder with relief, one that fades quickly when the man is helped from the water. One side of his body is badly burned. His skin is red and purple and blistered, and my stomach churns when I look at him. Damn Luddux and the other Draekons.
Zunix breaks the surface of the lake just seconds later. “I have the other one,” he shouts, his voice sounding strained in a manner that I’ve never heard. His arms are wrapped around the other Draekon’s shoulders. “Find Dariux. We need the med-kit. Now.”
Zunix:
We have done some stupid, foolish and misguided things before. We let Herrix chase away the Lowborn. We let Jorix and his friends walk away after their confrontation with Dariux.
But all of that pales in comparison with what we’ve done now.
Because the moment I glance at the man I rescued, I recognize him. He is older now, and much of his face is covered with a beard. His hair is long, hiding the ritualistic tattoos on his skull, but I would know this man anywhere.
Arax, Firstborn of Zoraht.
We have attacked the High Emperor’s son.
Liorax has pulled the man he saved into the boat. He reaches into the water to give me a hand, and then his face goes blank with shock. “What in the name of Caeron?” he whispers.
“Don’t let the others see his face.” I’ve never been as afraid as I am right now. We have attacked the Firstborn of Zoraht. Civilizations have been razed to the ground for far less provocation. According to our laws, Arax is well within his rights to demand the death of every single person in our camp.
Including Olivia.
If the others find out who they attacked, there will be mass panic. I can’t allow that to happen again. “I’m going to take them to the mansion,” I say, using Olivia’s nickname for the large treehouse we built for the human women.
Liorax nods. “They might not recognize him,” he says. “Not if they only catch a glimpse of his face. I’ll distract them.” He jumps to the shore and starts calling out orders, his voice firm and authoritative. “Enough gawking. We have work to do. Rezzix, Magnux, go in search of Dariux. We need his med-kit. Luddux, take five men and set up a perimeter patrol. Bolox, we need a grave dug for Jorix.”
Mutters of assent greet his commands. Obedience to the Highborn is instinctive to all of us from the High Empire. When the Lord of Laris issues an order, it will be followed, especially because Liorax so rarely uses his birthright as a weapon.
“What’s going on?” Olivia’s voice makes me jump. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“In a manner of speaking.” My throat is dry with fear. Olivia’s life is in grave danger. “I will explain everything. But we need to get them to the mansion first.”
She notices the way I’m shielding the Firstborn’s face. “And you don’t want people to see him.” She nods. “Okay, I’ve got you.”
She runs into the middle of the clearing and starts to scream, shout and sob. “What if they’re more of them?” she cries out, tears streaming from her eyes. She clutches at Herrix. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to be kidnapped.”
My lips curl into a smile. Herrix pats her on the back and peers down her shirt at the same time, and though I want to tear out his throat for touching her, I appreciate what Olivia’s doing.
She’s brave, and she’s smart, and she’s our mate.
If we can survive the oncoming storm.
Dariux returns to camp two hours later and immediately makes his way over to the room where the two Draekons are sleeping. “Well, well, well,” he says, looking down on Arax’s sleeping face. “Look what we have here.”
Dariux’s tone isn’t one of horror. It’s one of satisfaction. Unease trickles down my spine. “I don’t like your reaction,” I say slowly.
He ignores my words. “Has he woken up at all?”
“Just once. We put him back to sleep.” A heavy dose of the rubra leaves for the burnt Draekeon, and a more diluted potion for the Firstborn. “The other man needs immediate attention.”
“Hmm.” He walks over to the other bed in the room. “He’s Lowborn,” he says dismissively. “He can’t be important.” He lifts his head and gives me a searching look. “I’ve heard the accounts from the others,” he says. “What really happened?”
I don’t mention our suspicions that Belfox might be assembling a spaceship. I’m not planning on sharing that piece of news with Dariux. “Herrix and Belfox whipped the others up to a frenzy,” I say shortly. “I don’t care if he’s Lowborn. Use your med-kit, Dariux. That’s not a request.”
He gives me a mocking look. “Liorax’s idealism is rubbing off on you,” he says. “You ever think that the med-kit could be our bargaining chip out of this mess?”
“You do not bargain with the Firstborn of Zoraht,” I snap. Is Dariux insane? “You throw yourself on his mercy and hope and pray that he will let your loved ones live. We made a mistake when we attacked Arax. Let’s not make things worse by withholding care from his friend.”
He doesn’t react. “Dariux, use your head. Arax was in dragon form. If he can transform at will, then this man is very likely his pair-bond. Think of what will happen if you let the Firstborn’s pair-bond die. Don’t be a fool. This isn’t a game. All our lives are on the line.”