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I f Rosalie is in this mass of weird rustling grasses which have to be twenty feet high and smells like a swamp, then I want to be sure she’s the first thing I see, before the Sarkarnii arrive.

After all, my brain still isn’t getting over what I saw in the sky above me.

Dragons.

Not even being abducted by aliens, another supposed myth, could have prepared me for seeing actual dragons.

And then Darax admitted they are all dragons when they want to be . It’s basically blown my mind.

Squid aliens aside, I absolutely know I’m as far from home as it’s possible to be if there are dragons here.

Shoving my way through the thick blades of grass, most of them as wide as my head, I’m confronted by an open area where it looks like the vegetation has been plucked from the ground. In the center are a group of women sat on the ground, including, to my utter, utter relief, Rosalie.

“Rosalie!” I call out her name as I run toward them.

All four jump to their feet and begin waving madly.

“I’ve brought help. They’re dragons but only some of the time.”

The women gape, and by the time I realize something is wrong, it’s too late. I’m flung up into the air, my body suspended, as if in aspic, for what seems like too long a time.

And then I’m dropped onto the ground, all the air exiting my lungs as I hit. Pain flows through my body as I land awkwardly.

“Jesus, Kerra, didn’t you hear me?” Rosalie’s voice penetrates as I gasp for breath and groan at the same time. “It’s a trap.”

“I couldn’t hear anything,” I finally manage to say.

“Figures,” another unfamiliar voice says as Rosalie lifts me into a sitting position, her eyes full of fear and concern. “If it’s a forcefield, it would keep sound in.”

“Didn’t you see us waving to stay back?” a flame-haired lady says, her arms folded as she looks down at me with a mix of pity and derision.

“I saw you waving, but I thought you were saying hello,” I finish pathetically, probably deserving of her disgust.

“We’ve got bigger problems, ladies,” a blonde woman says. “Much, much bigger.” She takes a step back from me, as does the red-head and another dark-haired woman whose clothes are basically shreds.

“Shit, Kerra. Was that thing following you?” Rosalie says, her eyes wide.

I turn, wincing at all the parts of me which hurt, expecting to see Darax.

What I actually see is a dragon.

It is vast, at least the height of the grasses, with great wings, spikes running from the back of his huge dinosaur head all the way along his back and down his tail. The gold and red scales which flow over his body are the only indication that this dragon is Darax.

He lifts his head, and although we can’t hear it, he releases a roar which shakes the ground beneath us. Then, with no further warning, a fireball belches from him.

“Fuck, we’re going to die,” the red-head says.

The dark-haired lady trembles on the spot, her eyes looking like they’re going to pop out of her head as some liquid runs down the inside of her bare leg.

I swear under my breath, getting to my feet, my rib cage screaming at me. “He won’t hurt us, I promise. And he’s not a dragon all the time.”

Darax rises up, his great wings beating at the air before he slams into the ground, his massive claws ripping at the surface, pulling up great clods of black soil.

The dirt beneath us shakes. I grab hold of the terrified dark-haired woman.

“He won’t hurt us,” I say. “This is Darax. He’s a Sarkarnii.”

She’s trembling harder than the earth we’re standing on.

And I don’t think she believes me. I keep a hold of her anyway as Darax goes deeper, his head disappearing, until after endless several silent seconds there is a grinding, ripping sound, and his great dinosaur jaws appear with a large metal tube clamped there, each end fizzing with a strange blue glow.

He crunches down, and the glow expands, encompassing him before popping loudly and disappearing.

Darax spits it out and lifts his head with a wailing groan before doing his disappearing act behind the mound of soil he has made.

Then he’s walking towards me, tail lashing and hips swinging, laser rifle in hand, as if the dragon was just a dream. Behind him, the rest of his warriors follow, grinning wildly at the destruction Darax has wrought.

“Little snack,” he growls. I feel the lady next to me stop trembling and sag. “Are you hurt? Because if you are, I will rip the head off the creature who set the pulsar-trap.”

“I’m fine, Darax.”

“These are the other hoo-mans?” he asks, scanning around the area.

“They are. That’s my friend Rosalie.” I point her out. “I haven’t managed to get acquainted with everyone else.”

“I’m Maggie,” the blonde says to me.

“Scarlett,” the red-head says, unable to tear her eyes away from the Sarkarnii.

For some reason, my stomach tightens at the way she’s looking at Darax.

“Lydia,” the dark-haired woman whispers, so low I must be the only person who hears. It seems like she’s just hanging on to consciousness. “He came through the trap to get to you,” she adds, even more inaudibly. “I think he likes you.”

Then she goes completely, her legs crumpling, and I can’t hold her up, instead lowering her to the floor.

“What is wrong?” Darax rasps.

“You scared her.” I look up at him.

“Lydia’s been saying she didn’t feel well for some time. She was here when we were put here.” Scarlett drops to her knees beside Lydia. “Do your Sarkarnii have any medical facilities?” She glares at me as she feels for a pulse.

“They’re not my…I don’t know.” I gaze up at Darax. “Do you have anything which can help her?”

Darax motions to one of his warriors, who stomps in and scoops Lydia up. I get to my feet with a hiss of breath at the pain in my ribs.

Instantly, I’m enveloped in a wall of scales and my lungs fill with the scent of smoke and spice.

“I told you if you were hurt, I would destroy the creature who harmed you,” he rumbles.

I’m in his arms, pressed to his chest.

And I don’t know how I feel about it at all.