Page 2 of Pursued by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #4)

TWO

Razion

Blaster fire lit up the glittering corridors of the Darkslip UF-2 space vessel Razion and his crew had just burned a hole into and boarded. His pulse was steady. His focus was calm and sharp as he strode into the luxury ship’s main cabin, dispatching guards. He’d done this countless times. Seizing and raiding ships had become almost a routine. His crewmates flanked him, moving with practiced efficiency, cutting down Gribna’s mechanical and alien security forces without hesitation. The thick stench of scorched metal and ozone filled the air, mixing with the cloying floral scent that clung to the ship’s halls. Gilded surfaces gleamed beneath the emergency lights. Their brilliance made Razion’s stomach churn. He’d seen wealth made from honest trade and hard labor. This? This wasn’t that—it was rot. Stolen lives, stolen futures. Gribna fed on suffering, turned it into gold-threaded carpets and jeweled ceiling panels. Disgust curled in Razion’s gut. He would burn this place to the ground before he let it stand another day.

“Krask, take Vedd and Cozax and clear decks one and three,” Razion ordered, gesturing ahead. His first mate gave a nod before disappearing down the gleaming corridor, boots pounding against plush floors. Razion pressed forward, stepping over the smoking remains of a fallen guard. As he turned the next corner and pried open a set of large double doors, his target came into view. Gribna, the festering parasite, cowered in his chamber, his bulk hunched behind two heavily armed guards. The moment they spotted Razion, their blasters went up. But he was faster. Two quick shots and two bodies dropped to the floor, their weapons clattering uselessly against the gold-trimmed tiles. Now, only Gribna remained. His damp, boil-ridden skin glistened with fear.

“How did you get in here?” Gribna demanded. “This ship’s hull is—”

“Not as impenetrable as you thought.” Razion stalked forward, his voice a low growl. “You’ve been selling stolen power cells to an Axis warlord who is using them to decimate the Henia colony on Tio-6. Where is your fleet of freighters now?”

Gribna’s throat bulged as he swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know the coordinates,” he stammered, his thick fingers twitching at his sides.

Razion’s lip curled. Liar . “You expect me to believe that?” Razion advanced another step, gripping his blaster tighter. “You have shipments moving through half the system, yet you don’t know where they’re going?”

Gribna licked his lips. His bulbous eyes darted toward the door as if he could somehow escape. “I don’t ask questions. The Axis pays well, and I move the goods. That’s all.”

Razion’s blood ran hot at the mention of the Axis. That faceless, shadowed force had ruled over too many for too long—enslaved too many, stolen from too many. He had spent years hunting for even a scrap of intel that would lead him to whoever—or whatever—was behind it.

“That’s okay,” he said smoothly. “I’ll find everything I need when my people go through your databanks.”

Gribna’s teeth flashed. “If you value your life, you’ll leave this alone.”

Razion aimed the barrel of his blaster at Gribna’s mottled forehead. There were things he valued more than his life. Disrupting the Axis’ hold on the quadrant was among them. “Where is the Axis’ headquarters?”

Gribna let out a wet, wheezing sound that was half laugh, half panic. “You think they’d ever tell me? They use me, same as they use everyone. I’m nothing to them.”

Razion ground his teeth. He wanted— needed —answers. Every fragment of information he had on the Axis had led to dead ends and whispers of something too big to pin down. And this slimy bastard had nothing?

“Useless,” Razion spat.

Gribna’s eyes flickered with something. “Wait! I have contact points, meeting spots. Not their headquarters, but—” His hand moved. Too fast. It dove backwards, toward his metal belt, fingers closing around something.

Razion didn’t wait to see what it was. One shot. Clean. Final . Not as painful as a monster like Gribna deserved. The trade master hit the floor, boil-covered body twitching before going still. A half-drawn weapon slipped from his limp grip.

Razion exhaled sharply, disgust curling in his chest. Another dead end. But not for long. He would tear through every stronghold, every hidden dealing, until there was nowhere left for the Axis to hide.

Krask stepped into the chamber, blaster still smoking. “The ship is ours,” he said, taking in the opulent disaster around them. “Control center is secure. Vedd’s slicing into the systems now—pulling every scrap of data we can get.”

Razion stepped around Gribna’s corpse and holstered his weapon. “Good. Strip this place of everything valuable. Weapons, rations, tech—if it’s worth selling it at the Senka Prime trade hub, we take it.” His expression darkened as he looked around. “Then plug the hole in the hull and we’ll tow this ship to salvage.”

Krask nodded. “I’ll take a team to the cargo bay, load up whatever’s worth selling.”

“Do it,” Razion said. “I want this ship gutted before we leave.” He ran his fingers along the gilded wall, scowling at the evidence of Gribna’s stolen fortune. His gut told him there was more to find—secrets buried beneath all this excess.

“I’ll search the rest of this level,” he said, already moving toward the exit. “There might be something else Gribna was hiding.”

Krask smirked. “You just like digging through scums’ leftovers.”

Razion flashed a grin. “And I always find something worth taking.”

With that, he stepped toward the next doorway in the corridor, boots silent against the polished floor. If Gribna had kept prisoners here, there might be survivors. And if the bastard had hidden anything truly valuable, Razion was going to find it.

Razion moved swiftly, opening doors and scanning the rooms’ contents. The first few held nothing but lavish furnishings and discarded finery—evidence of Gribna’s indulgence. The next contained crates of trade goods, some still sealed. He made a mental note to have them offloaded to his ship and gritted his teeth. This ship was a monument to excess, built on pain and theft. But he would take what Gribna had hoarded and turn it into something useful. Something to heal the damage beings like Gribna had done.

Then he reached the last door.

It slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit chamber. His gaze swept the room, sharp and assessing—then locked onto a female sitting rigidly on a gilded bed.

His pulse slowed, then kicked hard in his chest.

She was stunning. Dark violet hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders, framing a face carved from defiance and fire. Her bronze skin glowed, revealing a darkening bruise on one cheek, and a sprinkling of gleaming gold freckles dusted her forehead. It wasn’t just her beauty that struck him—it was her presence . Most captives he’d found were broken or terrified, too beaten down to glare at him the way she did. But her eyes… They were a brilliant fuchsia, almost garishly vivid, even in the absurd opulence of the room. They burned with defiance as her chin lifted in silent challenge. Then he saw the markings on her neck— blue symbols that stood out against her skin. Recognition flickered in his mind—a penal colony designation.

The metallic fabric of her tiny garment clung to her form and left little to the imagination—undoubtedly Gribna’s doing. Silver cuffs were tight on her wrists. Red marks marred her skin there, revealing the unmistakable sign of tools designed for control and oppression.

He took a step closer, aware of the way she tensed, the way her gaze flicked to his blaster, then to the exit, calculating. Good . She was a fighter.

Razion tilted his head, smirking. “Well,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “What an interesting surprise.”

She didn’t shrink back. Didn’t cower. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and said flatly, “Who the fek are you?”

His smirk deepened. “I could ask you the same.”

She crossed her arms, making the silver cuffs catch the dim light. “I asked first.”

Razion chuckled, amused by her contrariness. “Razion. Captain of this ship now, since the previous owner won’t be needing it anymore.” He jerked his chin toward the corridor, where down the hall, Gribna’s corpse still lay cooling.

Her gaze flicked past him, and for a fraction of a second, something unreadable crossed her face. Not shock. Not fear. Just cold calculation. Then she looked back at him and lifted her chin higher. “Good. Couldn’t stand the fekker .”

Razion arched a brow, thoroughly amused. Far more charmed than he should have been. “You knew him long?”

“Long enough.”

Her gaze flicked over him, sharp and assessing. Then her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re one of them .”

Razion stilled, his amusement cooling into curiosity. “One of who?”

She tilted her head, as if weighing whether to answer. “Your kind. I’ve seen one before.”

That caught him off guard. There weren’t many of his “kind” roaming this side of the galaxy, although there had been a few rumored sightings in recent cycles. He took a step closer, watching her carefully. “You’ve seen a Zaruxian?”

Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know that’s what you’re called. But there was one at my settlement—the overseer who kept us all in line under the Axis’ control.”

Razion’s jaw tightened. His wings shifted instinctively. The mention of another Zaruxian in a position of power over a farming settlement set him on edge. “Your overseer was Zaruxian?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Your scales are gold, but his were purple. Still, wings and eyes are the same. Unpleasant as fek .” Her gaze sharpened. “You know him?”

Razion’s mind churned. A Zaruxian working with the Axis, ruling over settlements? That was an unsettling piece of information. His people weren’t known for subjugation—but if the Axis had their claws in a Zaruxian…

“No,” he said, his voice measured. “But I intend to.”

His gaze trailed over the cuffs on her wrists, then back to her impossible eyes. It was then that he remembered hearing a description of a species that looked just like this one—mature females with colorful hair and eyes, and gold spots that, if the account was accurate, went all the way down their back, through their legs, and framed their… “Are you a Terian, by chance?”

Surprise flashed in her expression before it was quickly masked. “Yeah. So?”

Razion’s jaw tightened. That confirmed it. She was one of the five females auctioned off. It had created a bit of a stir, as they were a rare species indeed. “Gribna just purchased you at the Falmic-5 auction,” he said, watching her closely.

Her brow furrowed. “Thanks for the reminder.” She shook her head sharply. “I have no idea what Falmic-5 is, but yes. It was clearly an auction.”

Razion exhaled through his nose. Right . If she had been taken straight from her settlement, she probably didn’t know the name of the place they’d hauled her to.

Didn’t matter. It was through that auction that he had tracked Gribna’s movements and been led here, to a less-monitored sector of Axis space where he could attack the trade master’s ship. His sources had flagged the auction as suspicious, one of many indicators pointing to Gribna’s deep dealings with the Axis. He’d followed the trail, expecting to find stolen goods and a direct line to the warlord Gribna supplied. He wasn’t sure if finding this Terian female was a bonus or a burden.

“You have a name?” he asked.

She hesitated for only a second before tilting her chin up even higher. “Lilas.”

He rolled the name over in his mind. Short, strong. Like her. “Well, Lilas, you’re free now.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Am I?”

Razion frowned. He didn’t like the doubt in her voice. He glanced at the silver cuffs still locked around her wrists, saw the tension in her shoulders and the rigid way she held herself. She looked braced for another fight. A survivor, through and through.

He took a step closer, slow enough that she could see him coming, and reached for one of her wrists. She stiffened, but didn’t yank away. “Hold still,” he said, quieter now, steadier. Her wrist was narrow, but the skin on her palm was tough, calloused. The hands of a farmer, but still small and fragile. Then he grabbed the small multi-tool from his belt, pressed it to the latch mechanism, and with a sharp click, the cuff released.

She stared as it dropped onto the floor. “You had a key for those?”

“I have a key for everything,” he said simply.

Another click, and the second cuff fell away. Lilas flexed her fingers, rubbing at the red marks left behind.

Razion studied her reaction, watching the way her breathing evened out, the way her fingers curled and uncurled—like she was testing her own skin, relearning the feeling of freedom.

For some reason, the sight pleased him more than it should have. “See?” he said. “Free.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Free is such an unclear word. Are you leaving me to rot on this ship or taking me somewhere, Captain?”

Razion smirked. “That depends. Do you have somewhere you want to go?”

For the first time, her expression wavered. She didn’t. She didn’t say it, but he saw it in her eyes, in the flicker of worry and vulnerability.

“Then,” he said, stepping back, his voice lighter, teasing, “you’re coming with us.”

Lilas snorted, crossing her arms. “Great. Traded one kidnapping for another. Truly, my luck is unmatched.”

Razion chuckled, low and appreciative. “I suppose it was that mouth of yours that provoked Gribna into giving you that bruise on your cheek.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? I bring out the best in people.”

Stars , but he liked her already.