Page 14 of Captured By the Dragon Warlord (Fated Mates of the Sarkarnii Warlords #2)

I sleep fitfully. Dreams I can’t grasp at wake me, hot and sweaty, before I fall back to sleep. Noises startle me. Noises I don’t think are real.

All in all, not a good night. And as Cestapal bustles into the quarters, I feel like absolute shit. I should have gone after Dexx.

“Did you sleep in your dress?” she asks, followed by a hissing sound.

“What else was I supposed to sleep in?” I reply.

Cestapal presses her paw on a nearby wall and a drawer slides out. “I put more clothing in here for you.”

I glare at the hidden drawer. Why didn’t I think of looking for it? I guess my mind was otherwise occupied.

I scramble out of the pit and look into the drawer. There’s underwear along with some other comfortable looking tops and pants.

“Do you know where Dexx is?” I ask her as I wriggle out of the dress and pull on fresh clothing.

“No doubt completing his shift in the mines,” Cestapal says.

“I don’t understand why he works down there. He’s a warlord. You’d have thought he would have his warriors doing the work,” I say absently before last night’s events and the cave-in hit me once again.

“All of Lord Dexx’s crew, including him, work in the mines. They must spend twelve nova-hours in a nova-day in their shifted forms.”

I lift my head and stare at her. “What? Why?”

“It is part of their mutation, from the wormhole. It goes with their inability to tolerate bright lights. If they don’t shift, they get sick and die.”

My hand is at my mouth. “But Sarkarnii don’t get sick,” I say. “Kerra told me.”

“Sarkarnii do not, in the main, get sick, but this is a different sort of sickness, one which appears to have affected only Lord Dexx’s clan, and only if they do not shift every nova-day.”

“The Sarkarnii like being dragons though, right? I mean they like being big and…toothy.”

“The Sarkarnii like the ability to choose,” Cestapal says. “Lord Dexx and his clan do not get to choose.”

She turns away from me, disappearing through her small flap. I finish dressing and find myself at a loss. I’m not sure what any of this means, if Dexx has to be his dragon for a large portion of the day.

Although I think it explains some of his grumpiness, even if it doesn’t excuse it.

I pick up my comm device and hit up the group chat.

Hey

Kerra

Oh thank god! We were so worried.

Maggie

Have you been *railed* by a dragon yet?

Rosalie

Really, Maggie?

But also, have you?

Dexx is a growly twat but he hasn’t tried anything

Maggie

Shame

Lydia

Is he going to let you come home?

I contemplate Lydia’s message for a while. I can see why all of them consider Darax’s ship their home. I guess I did, a bit, but then I wouldn’t have been wandering around looking for something else.

I’m not his prisoner

I contemplate my reply for a moment before adding

I’m going to stay for a while.

Maggie

Told you - she’s banging him

I am not!

Rosalie

Only a matter of time, ask Kerra

Kerra

Leave me out of this!

I chuckle to myself at the way the text conversation descends below the naval very quickly.

Kerra has only ever given us information about the Sarkarnii anatomy in scant detail.

I can’t work out if it’s because she’s shielding us from some horror or if it’s too strange to describe, but what I do know is they keep their cocks inside their bodies and they come out of some sort of slit.

Which is probably weird enough. A shiver runs through me, shaking my very bones, as if I’ve been caught in a draught.

I cannot possibly be thinking about Dexx in these terms. I might have nearly kissed him last night, but I got carried away.

“Hello, sweet mate,” his deep dark voice rumbles behind me.

Before I can turn, a clawed hand slides around my waist.

“I like these garments,” he rumbles. “Soft.”

I am not held by him, so I turn to face my beast. He’s not dirty like he was last night, and his long, dark hair is wet, so he’s had a bath, presumably in one of the communal aquiums, the huge pools the Sarkarnii warriors share. Dexx smells of wet, of smoke, and of something spicy and earthy.

“Cestapal made them. I was used to making my own when I was…” I hesitate. “With my friends.”

“Darax has enough credits to have many garment makers. I only have one,” Dexx rasps. “But if you wish access to it, it can be arranged.”

He rubs the fabric of my top between a thumb and forefinger, and I feel rather than hear the rumble of a purr in his chest.

“Cestapal says…” I swallow hard. “…you need to stay shifted for a large part of the day.”

Dexx growls under his breath something about a meddling Paralnyi. “We do, my clan and me. It is part of the mutation we endured after we came through the wormhole. My ship was one of the first through, and it seems we got the worst of it.”

“And you get sick if you don’t shift?”

Dexx releases a long stream of smoke from one nostril. It curls over his head.

“There is a fever, insanity, and even death in the early days. Now we know what causes it, we have not had any deaths. Occasionally some fever, but it is easily dealt with by staying shifted for a week or so.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the other warlords for help?” As soon as I ask the question, I know the answer.

“This is my problem. My crew,” Dexx growls. “They get our star fuel and that’s the end of it.” He gazes at me. “Until you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We lost our females. No Sarkarnii has rutted since. But with you, here, on Vorostor…”

“You think mating is the answer?” I gasp.

Dexx nods.

My stomach drops to the floor as I slam my hands on his chest, pushing him away.

“That’s not how it works, Dexx.” I put some distance between us.

“It is if I want to save my clan.”