Page 31 of Possessed by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #6)

TWENTY-TWO

Nena woke slowly. Awareness returned like sunlight filtering through morning mist. Her body felt tender in places, alive in ways she’d never experienced. The memory of Madrian’s touch, his reverent kisses, the overwhelming sensation of their joining, made heat bloom in her chest.

She was alone in the bed. Madrian’s side was still warm. This suggested he hadn’t been gone long. The covers held his clean, metallic scent, tinged with that underlying warmth like sun-heated stone. She buried her face in his pillow and allowed herself a moment to simply feel .

A soft chime indicated the beginning of the day cycle, and Nena stretched languorously before forcing herself to rise.

She found clothes laid out over a chair and smiled.

Even in small gestures, he cared for her.

But as she shook out the garments, the smile faded.

Her fingers played over the soft pants. They were fitted and had multiple pockets.

The deep blue tunic was simple and meant to be cinched over the pants with a leather belt that was laid over the clothes.

Brown boots that came up mid-thigh added a serious look to the whole thing.

Madrian may have left them for her, but her friends had provided them.

She rubbed the fine fabric between her fingers and sighed.

This was not the clothing of someone on a pleasant getaway.

This was the practical attire of a person of authority.

She bathed in the hygiene chamber and dressed quickly.

Her long hair was straight and clean, and she pulled it back into a simple braid.

When she looked in the mirror, all versions of the prisoner Nena had been were gone.

She saw a free Terian female, dressed for a new role entirely.

She saw a rebel. A leader. A complete stranger.

She glanced back at the window where the stars were too bright.

Too fierce. She always imagined they spoke to her, and just then, she felt like their message was defiant: Fight, Nena .

Nena was not a fighter. She liked peace.

She liked balance. Those two things were not going to be part of her reality in the near future.

With a sigh, she opened the door and made her way through the corridors and lifts until she heard the sound of voices.

She followed them toward what she remembered was the central hall area, and then on past that.

The familiar laughter of her friends guided her steps.

Her heart lifted as the voices grew louder and she entered a dining room.

This room was warm and inviting and filled with the rich aroma of real food—not the processed rations they’d survived on during their escape.

Large windows showed the star field beyond.

She could get used to seeing the stars so clearly.

They settled her nerves and made her feel grounded, even when everything was unsettled.

Her five friends were clustered around one end of a long table.

Plates of food sat before them, but their attention was focused on animated conversation.

Nena paused in the doorway. She was struck by how different they all looked.

Gone were the drab, worn out clothes of Settlement 112-1.

Turi wore deep green that complemented her blue hair.

Sevas had chosen practical, tactical blacks that hugged her body.

It suited her newly revealed yellow locks.

Fivra looked pretty in a loose-fitting, soft pink dress that matched her vibrant hair.

Lilas wore a sleeveless leather top and snug pants in dark purple.

It looked like leather , which had been unheard of in the settlements, and made her features even more striking. And Cerani…

Cerani had always been the artistic one among them. She wore a flowing tunic in muted earth tones that shifted color in the light, with shimmery pants. Her light gold eyes spotted Nena first, and her face lit up with joy.

“There she is,” Cerani said warmly, rising to embrace her. “We were beginning to debate whether to wake you or let you sleep this cycle.”

Heat crept up Nena’s neck as the others turned to greet her with knowing smiles. “Last cycle was exhausting. I must have needed the rest.”

“Did you sleep well?” Turi asked with perfect innocence, though her eyes danced with mischief.

“Very well, thank you,” Nena replied with as much dignity as she could muster. She settled into the empty seat beside Cerani and pulled over a clean plate.

“I’ll bet,” Lilas muttered into her cup, earning a sharp elbow from Sevas.

Nena busied herself with filling the plate from the impressive spread of food. Real fruit, actual bread that still held warmth from baking, proteins she couldn’t identify but that smelled incredible. The abundance felt surreal after so many years of scarcity.

“Where are the others?” she asked, noting the absence of the Zaruxian males.

“Strategy meeting,” Turi said, her expression growing more serious. “We usually attend those together, but we decided to wait for you this time.”

Sevas shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I hate missing tactical discussions. But Takkian said there would be another full briefing later, after Rien and Madrian shared all the Axis intelligence data they have.”

“You are more important,” Fivra added warmly. “It’s strange being on this ship, isn’t it? After all those cycles of seeing it up on that cliff as the overseer’s fortress.”

It had taken Nena more time than it should have to recognize this ship as the overseer’s fortress, but after all she’d been through since their abduction on the eve of Turi’s bondmating ceremony, very little shocked her.

She took a bite of some red fruit that burst in her mouth in a pop of sweetness.

“Just about now, normal would be strange.”

“That’s the truth.” Lilas crossed her arms and sat back.

“The males and Rien are discussing the data that you three had loaded into the shuttle you arrived on and…wow. We knew from Bruil that the Axis killed their mother and promised to keep the six Zaruxian babies alive, but not that they’d plopped their base right on Zarux itself. They’re talking about what comes next.”

“And what does come next?” Nena asked between chewing some smoked meat, though part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The brief respite of safety and reunion had been precious, but she knew it was over.

“That depends,” Sevas replied. “On whether the Axis finds us. On whether other oppressed worlds are ready to fight. On whether Rien and your Madrian’s information about our homeworlds is accurate.”

Our homeworlds. The weight of that phrase settled over the table like a heavy blanket. Zarux and Teria, their peoples’ birthright, now occupied by the very empire that had scattered them across the galaxy.

“It is accurate,” Nena said with quiet conviction. “Madrian doesn’t lie and Rien has been working for the rebellion for a long time.”

“Hmm,” Cerani said gently, studying Nena’s face with her artist’s eye for detail. “You look…different this morning. Happier. More serene, if that’s possible.”

The others leaned in slightly, sensing the shift in conversation. Nena stifled a squirm under their observant gazes, but these were her sisters in all but blood. If she couldn’t speak freely with them, then with whom?

“I am different,” she admitted softly. “Last night, I finally understood what a true bonding feels like. What it’s supposed to be.”

Silence fell over the table, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Her friends had all found their own mates among the Zaruxian brothers. They had experienced their own revelations about love and connection.

“We understand that, and we’re happy for you. Tell us something, though.” Cerani reached over to squeeze Nena’s hand. “What about Niratt? You were assigned to him, but…how do you feel about that bond now?”

Nena’s chest tightened, not with the old fear, but with clarity. Her friends all knew Niratt. They had seen how he treated her during their time together in the settlement. They’d witnessed the bruises. They knew how she’d learned to make herself small and quiet around him.

“That wasn’t a bonding,” she said firmly.

“Bondings are supposed to be consensual. Two people choosing each other freely, entering into a partnership based on respect and affection.” She shook her head.

“What Niratt and I had was an assignment. I was given to him like property, with no say in the matter. I never chose to be his mate.”

“The settlement elders called it a bonding ceremony,” Fivra said quietly. “That doesn’t make it true.”

“They called it many things.” Nena’s voice grew stronger.

“The first time he struck me, I felt something break inside. Not just my jaw, though that took so many cycles to heal properly. Something deeper. Whatever false connection the settlement riests thought they’d forged with their ceremony just…

severed. Like cutting a rope that was never properly tied. ”

Sevas nodded grimly. They all remembered those dark cycles, the way Nena had become more withdrawn, more careful.

“For a long time, I believed I was bound to him, that I had no choice but to endure,” Nena continued. “But I was wrong. It was captivity with ceremony attached.”

“That’s how I felt, too,” said Cerani, who had come to Settlement 112-1 as a bondmate, but her male had died. “When Stavian and I chose each other, my heart opened up for the first time.”

“Exactly. I wasted much of my life accepting something that was never legitimate in the first place.” Nena straightened, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “But last night, with Madrian, I finally understood what a real bonding feels like. What it’s supposed to be.”

“Choice,” Cerani said with understanding.