Page 25 of Possessed by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #6)

“I’ve been trying to calculate how many people I’ve killed while serving the Axis.

” The words came out like a casual conversation, but there was nothing causal about it.

“The direct kills are easier to count. But the indirect ones—orders I gave, missions I planned, intelligence I provided—those numbers get very large, very quickly.”

“You thought you were doing what was right, at the time.”

“Does that matter to the dead?”

Nena was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was gentle but firm. “No, but it matters to the people you’ll save going forward.”

“If I’m capable of saving anyone. My skills seem designed for destruction.”

“Oh, you’re underestimating yourself.” She reached over and took his hand.

“You spent most of your life manipulating, observing, and surviving the most dangerous individuals in existence. You think that isn’t a skill?

” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it.

I wouldn’t last a pik in a room with the council. ”

He had survived more than one attempt to oust him. But at the same time, he’d plotted against a few council members himself. “So you’re saying I’d make a good politician.”

She chuckled, apparently seeing humor in something where he did not. “You’d make a good negotiator, leader, councilor, among any number of other things.”

“As long as I remember not to slaughter those who annoy me,” he said. “What if I can’t change enough?”

“Then you’ll fail trying to do the right thing instead of succeeding at doing the wrong thing. And you’re not going to kill people who annoy you. You’re not an animal, for fek’s sake.”

Her logic was simple. It cut through the layers of self-doubt that had been building in his mind. She was right. Even if he failed, at least he’d fail in service of something worthwhile.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For believing I’m worth saving.”

She squeezed his hand. “You saved yourself, Madrian. I just helped you remember who you were supposed to be.”

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the stars turn slowly past the viewport.

His fingers played idly with her hair. He breathed her in, taking in the soft, warm scent of her.

Eventually, Nena’s breathing deepened as she dozed against his shoulder.

Madrian remained awake, keeping watch over their small ship and the female who’d given him back his soul.

On the third cycle, Rien received a response.

“I have a contact,” she announced triumphantly, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the ship’s systems. “Siku managed to get clearance from the Zaruxians.”

Madrian moved to the communication station. “Who is Siku?”

“Former courtia , current rebel leader. She worked at Erovik, the brothel that one of your brothers operated. After he left with his Terian mate, the Axis installed some ‘uppity fekker’ as director, and the entire staff of courtias and assistants quit. They closed after that.” Rien flashed a satisfied grin.

“Siku operates in the outer sectors, now, helping refugees escape Axis territory.” Rien’s fingers danced over her console.

“She’s been in contact with the Zaruxians, including her former director, and was able to pass on a message for me. ”

“Can we trust her?”

“Yes,” Rien said simply. “She provided coordinates for a rendezvous point.”

Nena joined them at the console. “How far?”

“Half a cycle if we use the space fold module,” she replied. “But the stealth cloak will fail, leaving us vulnerable for a short time.”

“Do it,” Madrian said.

Rien plotted their course and engaged the thrusters. “Everybody strap in. When we engage the space fold mod, it will be disorienting.” The ship surged forward. Its frame vibrated with the increased power output.

“What should we expect when we arrive?” Nena asked.

“Unknown,” Rien said. “The Zaruxians are cautious by necessity. But if they’re looking for you two, maybe it will be easy. Let’s hope for a happy family reunion.”

That was unlikely. Madrian understood caution, and if his Zaruxian brothers knew half as much about him as he knew of them, they were well aware that until very recently he was an Axis high chancellor. One of the Twelve. That would not work in his favor.

“We’re in position. Engaging space fold,” Rien announced. “Brace yourselves.”

Through the viewport, stars streaked past them, but then they warped into a smear of color.

Madrian had done this many times before, but it was no less strange every time.

He turned his head to see Nena. She gazed out with a look of awe.

He hoped she wouldn’t throw up when they emerged from the fold. Often first-timers did exactly that.

When they dropped out of space fold, Rien’s small shuttle drifted.

Power was at minimum. Thrusters weren’t online yet, and they were definitely visible to anyone with a scanner or eyes.

The cloak was indeed down. As were weapons.

Madrian gritted his teeth, not enjoying feeling so exposed and defenseless.

He peered out the viewport, expecting to see a ship, a station, maybe an asteroid base.

Instead, he saw debris.

“What is this?” he asked, turning to the sensor panel.

“Scanning now,” Rien said. Her voice was tight with concern. “I’m reading large metal fragments, but clouds of energy from ruptured power cells are impeding the scanners. From what I can see, it looks like the remains of several ships.”

Madrian’s tactical instincts went on high alert. “How old?”

“Difficult to tell without sending out a probe. Could be recent, could be many cycles old.”

“Are we too late?” Nena asked. Her voice was small, filled with worry.

“I don’t know.” Rien continued scanning. “Wait. I’m picking up something else. A transmission.”

Madrian tried to adjust his uncomfortable wings. This chair was not made for them. “Put it through.”

The communication system purred back to life, filling the cabin with static before resolving into a clear voice.

“Unidentified vessel, state your designation and purpose in this sector.”

The voice was male, sharp with authority and suspicion. He couldn’t tell if the voice was Zaruxian, but he knew it wasn’t Axis. Agents’ accents were specific and clear.

“This is Operator Rien, operating shuttle class Binaris, 4452-2B,” Rien responded. “I’m carrying passengers who have preclearance. Access code is…” Rien paused to find the code on her screen. “D73-99X.”

A long pause. Then: “Stand by for verification.”

Several tense piks passed before the voice returned.

“Operator Rien confirmed. However, the nature of one of your passengers presents a security threat. Can you confirm that you have a high chancellor of the Axis aboard your vessel?”

“For fek’s sake, former high chancellor,” Madrian muttered, taking over the communication. “I am no longer affiliated with the Axis.”

“Words are cheap, Chancellor. Proof is not.”

Were these actually his brothers? He drummed his fingers on the console. “What proof do you require?”

Another pause, longer this time. When the communication resumed, it was a different speaker. This voice was deeper and it carried the weight of careful consideration.

“First, you will disarm your vessel. All weapons offline, all defensive systems disabled. Second, you will transmit all stored data and passenger information for our review. Third, you will send the Terian female to us first, as a gesture of good faith.”

Madrian’s fingers ceased tapping. “Unacceptable.”

“Chancellor?”

“I agree to disarm the vessel. I agree to transmit all data you require. But Nena goes nowhere without me.”

“The female’s safety cannot be guaranteed if you accompany her.”

“Then her safety cannot be guaranteed at all,” he growled, “because she doesn’t leave this ship without me.”

Silence stretched across the communication channel. Beside him, Nena placed a hand on his arm.

“Madrian,” she said quietly. “Maybe—”

“No.” He looked at her, saw the trust in her eyes, and felt something fierce and protective roar in his chest. “You trusted me with your life. Now trust me with this decision.”

She nodded.

They waited. Madrian counted the piks . His tactical mind ran through possible scenarios. If the Zaruxians refused his terms, they had few options. If they attacked , the ship’s weapons were already powered down as a show of good faith, but he could probably get them online again before—

“Very well, Chancellor. Your terms are acceptable. Power down all systems except life support and communications. Open your ship’s data channel.”

Relief flooded him, followed immediately by fresh tension. This was the real test. If the Zaruxians decided he was still a threat, this could end badly for all of them.

“Powering down weapons,” Rien said. “Disabling shields. Engines to minimum. Data channel opened.”

The ship’s systems went quiet one by one, leaving them defenseless and helpless as they drifted among the debris field.

“Now we wait,” Madrian said mildly, even though he found their current situation entirely awful.

“How long?” Nena whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper. They can’t hear you,” he said. “But as for how—”

Before he could finish, the space outside the shuttle began to shimmer. At first, Madrian thought it was a sensor malfunction. Then he realized what he was seeing.

Cloaking fields. Multiple, all deactivating at once.

“By the stars,” Rien breathed.

A massive ship materialized out of the debris field.

It was the most menacing thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

Its dark hull bristled with weapons and armor.

It was easily ten times the size of Rien’s vessel, built like a fortress rather than a transport.

Gun ports lined its flanks, and defensive emplacements dotted its superstructure.

And it wasn’t alone.

Several more ships flickered into visibility around them. They were smaller craft, but still heavily armed. They’d been completely surrounded without realizing it.

“Impressive,” Madrian said, mentally cataloging the firepower arrayed against them.

“Terrifying is more like it,” Nena said, still whispering. She swallowed thickly. “You think my friends are inside that thing?”

He had no idea what or who was inside that thing. The massive ship moved closer and closer. Its bulk blocked out the stars. A port extended from its hull, reaching toward their small vessel like a metal finger.

“Unidentified vessel,” the voice returned, now carrying the weight of overwhelming force behind it. “Position your ship for a docking attachment to your primary hatch. Any aggressive action will result in immediate destruction.”

“Understood,” Rien said, then switched off her comm and gave Madrian a confident nod. “This is going well.”

He returned her optimism with a resigned shrug.

It wasn’t as if they had any options but to comply.

Through the viewport, Madrian watched the docking tube extend from the fortress ship.

It moved with mechanical precision, sealing against their hatch with a soft thud that vibrated through the deck plating.

“This is it,” he said.

“Together?” Nena asked.

He took her hand, felt the warmth of her skin against his palm. “Together.”

The air lock cycled. Footsteps echoed through the docking tube. Heavy boots on metal decking, moving with precision.

Madrian stood and moved to face the air lock, placing himself between the approaching footsteps and Nena. Old habits died hard, but some habits were worth keeping.

The inner door hissed open, and Madrian got his first look at their hosts.

The figure that stepped through was tall and lean, dressed in dark armor that looked both functional and intimidating. But it was the face that caught Madrian’s attention—angular features, dark purple scales, and eyes the color of polished silver.

Zaruxian .

“Chancellor,” the figure said, his voice carrying the same authority as the transmission. “Welcome home.”