Page 22 of Pursued by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #4)

TWENTY-TWO

Razion

Razion stepped into the small shuttle with Vedd and Cozax. His shoulders were tense as the hatch sealed behind them. The drone of the small thrusters kicked in under his boots as they detached from the Darkslip and drifted toward the fortress ship.

The decision to leave the ship had not come without heavy debate. Vedd and Cozax were not keen on boarding the Zaruxian ship at all, let alone unarmed—the terms had been clear on that. Cozax had asked Razion if he’d lost his mind when he didn’t even argue this with the Zaruxians.

“Why the fek would we show up unarmed?” Cozax had asked, throwing up her arms. “I don’t even go to the bathroom unarmed.”

“Why would you bring your—never mind.” Razion shook his head. “If we show up armed, we look like aggressors,” Razion explained.

“And if they attack us?” Cozax countered with a scowl.

“They’re my brothers,” Razion said, as if that explained away the absurdity of the request. “They won’t attack us unless we give them a reason to.”

Vedd folded his arms in silent protest, but Razion had already moved past that point of the conversation. “If I thought we needed our weapons, we’d take them.” He grabbed hold of a strap as the shuttle detached from the Darkslip and accelerated toward the fortress ship.

A fortress. That’s what this thing was. Massive. Intimidating. Old, but solid—built for war as much as it was for survival. He’d never seen another vessel even remotely like it. It looked like it had been built to last generations, and he could almost feel its power vibrating under its formidable exterior. It had once loomed over a settlement like a symbol of control. Now, it flew free, carrying the very people the Axis had once imprisoned. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

His grip tightened on his weaponless belt as they docked. His stomach clenched. He couldn’t ignore the strange pressure coiling under his ribs—the same feeling that had haunted him since Pavo Outpost. Like something inside him was changing. Like his body was bracing for something he couldn’t name.

He ignored it. Stepped onto the fortress ship. A huge main hall stretched before him. It was a surprise to see a vast expanse of stone and metal that seemed saturated with history. The walls, carved from dark, polished rock, were etched with intricate patterns that caught the light, casting shadows across the room. Overhead, the ceiling arched high, supported by thick, metallic beams that gleamed under the soft glow of embedded lighting.

At the center of the hall, a large ionic fireplace burned with silent, white flames. Around it, clusters of comfortable seating were arranged—plush chairs and low sofas upholstered in deep, rich fabrics. Inviting, yet imposing. The hall felt alive—a place where the weight of the past and the promise of the future collided. It looked like a place to sit and talk and drink and eat— not negotiate the release of his mate. Yet here he was, and there, in the center of it all, stood the three Zaruxian males, waiting.

“ Fek , they’re huge,” Cozax muttered.

Razion’s breath hitched before he caught himself. Different scale colors, different scars, but the eyes—silver-gray, sharp, assessing—were the same. Looking at them was like staring into a fractured mirror, pieces of himself staring back.

The purple one was the calmest-looking of the three. His dark hair didn’t shift and neither did his perfectly schooled expression. “Welcome to our ship,” he said in a smooth, cool voice. “I am Ellion. This is Takkian.” He nodded to the male on his right, who was broader, more scarred, and gleamed with green scales. This male crossed his arms and did not nod or smile. He radiated something menacing, and Razion figured this was the one who burned down the Slarik Arena.

“And this is Cyprian,” Ellion went on.

“Greetings,” said this brother, who was the leanest of them with scales the color of rubies and a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. Cyprian watched him like he was an interesting specimen that may or may not be venomous to the touch. He had to have been the brothel director.

“And Bruil,” Ellion said, sweeping a hand toward a fourth figure, who stood off to the side. “A revered elder.”

Bruil was indeed an elder, with scarred, bronze scales and a hard-set jaw. He wore daggers on his belt, apparently eschewing the no-weapons rule.

None of them looked welcoming.

Fine . Razion wasn’t here to make friends. “Where is Lilas?” His voice came out more growly than he intended and his words lacked all the practiced diplomacy he’d developed over the mig - cycles. His pulse hammered under his skin, but he didn’t let his nerves show. He wouldn’t give them that.

Ellion barely blinked. “You must be Razion. And this is your crew?”

“Yes. Vedd and Cozax,” he said, gesturing to each. “I want what’s mine.” Razion’s fingers curled. “Return her.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. The moment they did, he hated them. Hated how they sounded. Like she was a possession to be taken, reclaimed. Owned.

He heard Vedd let out a huff of disapproval. “Nice. Smooth as rusty shrapnel.”

Ellion’s silver eyes darkened. His wings flared, making his silhouette even larger. “She is not yours,” he said in a voice edged with steel. “She belongs to herself.”

Razion clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” Ellion’s head tilted, his gaze piercing. “Then clarify your meaning, brother.”

The word hit like a physical blow. Brother . It shouldn’t have affected him, but it did. Even with all the hostility in the air, it meant something. It settled under his ribs, twisting, pulling at something deep inside him.

Takkian shifted forward, arms still crossed over his broad chest. “Why are you here, Razion?” he asked. “Why should we trust you with Lilas?” His voice was lower than Ellion’s, rougher, with a built-in snarl that Razion figured was there no matter what he said. “You took a meeting with a trafficker.”

Razion stilled. The air around him felt too thick. “Is that what she thinks?” he asked, quietly.

“She heard it from your mouth,” Cyprian said. Despite the smirk still playing at his lips, there was no amusement in his tone. “Not a great look, Captain.”

Razion’s wings flared as frustration clawed up his throat. “I would never sell her,” he snarled. “ Never . Krask, my ex- first officer, set up the deal without my knowledge. The fekker thought I would go along with it. Thought I would let her go.” His voice dropped to a growl. “He was the one let go.”

The four Zaruxians exchanged looks. None of them moved, but the weight of their combined scrutiny pressed heavily on him.

“Lilas believed otherwise,” Ellion said.

Razion couldn’t breathe. His throat felt too tight. His skin, his bones—it all felt wrong. The air crackled over his skin, and then—the pressure hit his chest like a battering ram. Razion stumbled forward, dropping to his knees.

Pain . Burning, stretching, something inside him twisting in a way it never had before. His fingers curled against the cold floor as heat rolled through his veins, pooling under his skin like molten fire. His wings shuddered and flared instinctively. Something inside him wanted out.

“What is wrong with him?” Cozax asked the assembled Zaruxians.

“His dragon form is trying to emerge,” Bruil said grimly. It was the first time Razion had heard the elder’s voice. It was as rough and gravelly as he expected it to be. “And it will, depending on how all this goes.”

Razion felt every eye on him. Although the shift had never happened to him, the dragon always lay beneath the surface. It had not emerged during any of the many raids and battles he’d fought, but here it was, awakening for a small Terian female who turned him inside out. A female he would cross the galaxy for.

He barely had breath to speak, but he forced the words out anyway. “I would—” His voice broke, strained under the unseen pressure ramming against his spine, forcing him lower. “I would rather die than see her harmed.” Razion gasped, his body trembling. “She’s everything to me.”

His vision swam. He clenched his eyes shut—but he saw her face anyway, burned into the backs of his eyelids. Lilas laughing. Lilas biting back sharp words with a smirk. Lilas gasping his name as she came apart beneath him. Lilas, gone—because she thought he had betrayed her.

Beyond the pain, the burning in his muscles, a different kind of agony ripped through him. “I love her.” His voice came out raw, scraping through clenched teeth. He lifted his gaze and forced himself to look them in the eyes. “I swear…on the life of our mother.” His breath shuddered. “I love Lilas, and I will spend every breath I have left proving it.”

Silence.

A long, weighted silence that hummed over his trembling form. Then, a shift in the air.

Takkian’s broad frame moved first—closing in, watching him with something different now, something between understanding and shock. Then Cyprian, his smirk flickering, faltering, replaced with open surprise.

Ellion—silent, calculating Ellion—exhaled slowly. His silver eyes, so much like Razion’s own, softened. “Stand up and breathe deep, brother. Lilas is safe. You are safe. Your dragon does not need to fight on this cycle. It will be needed in the future, but not now.”

Razion let out a ragged breath. His body still pulsed with heat, pressure threatening to rip through him, but he forced his limbs to move. His clothes felt impossibly tight as he forced himself to straighten, to stand. His legs were unsteady, his breaths ragged, but he met Ellion’s gaze head-on.

A beat of silence. Then, Ellion turned to the side and spoke—not to Razion, but toward the rear of the grand hall.

“You heard him,” Ellion said, his voice carrying an undeniable weight. “What do you want to do, Lilas?”

Razion’s breath caught. She was here .

His heart pounded as his gaze snapped to where Ellion was looking.

A figure stepped out from behind a broad, draped panel.

Lilas.

His Lilas.

She emerged slowly, cautiously. Her fuchsia eyes locked on him, unreadable. Her dark purple hair tumbled over her shoulders, and the golden freckles across her bronze skin caught the light. Stars , she was beautiful. She had always been beautiful, but now—seeing her again, breathing the same air—it was like something raw and broken inside of him stitched itself painfully back together.

But she wasn’t running to him. She wasn’t smiling.

Razion stayed perfectly still. His muscles still trembled from whatever the fek was happening to his body. He had barely endured his brothers’ questions, the weight of their combined judgment—and now, he faced the one who mattered most. The one he had come for.

Lilas lifted her chin. “You swore on the life of your mother.” Her voice was steady, but her fingers curled at her sides. “You don’t break oaths like that, do you?”

It wasn’t really a question.

Razion clenched his jaw. He wasn’t sure he could speak, wasn’t sure how to say any of the things tearing through his mind. But he met her eyes and gave her the only words that mattered. “No,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t break oaths, period. No matter what or who they’re sworn on.”

Lilas studied him, searching for something in his face. Something that might betray him. He didn’t look away. Wouldn’t. Then, slowly, she stepped closer.

Razion didn’t move. Didn’t dare breathe.

His brothers stayed silent. Watching. Waiting.

The space between them stretched unbearably thin.

She stopped just within reach. Close enough that he could see the rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremor in her fingers—the war happening inside of her.

And then, she whispered in a small voice that held hurt and pain and hope, “Then why did you take the meeting?”

Razion’s chest cracked open. His entire world narrowed to her. Only her. It had always been her. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I guess you didn’t stick around for the whole conversation.”

Lilas held his gaze for a long moment. “I thought I’d heard enough.”

His muscles were still coiled with tension, his mind still reeling from the pain in his body and the raw, open wound that her distance carved into him. “You didn’t hear the part where I told Krask he could take the meeting himself and try to get a position with the trafficker, because he wasn’t part of the Darkslip crew anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t hear that part.”

He had found her. He had told her the truth. Now, he had to make her believe it. For the first time in his life, Razion had no idea how to fight this battle. But he would figure it out. For Lilas, he’d do anything. “That’s too bad. You’d have loved that part.” He winced and shut his eyes again. “Krask was so angry, he gave the Axis everything on the Darkslip.”

“Is that the other ship we saw on our scanners when you were following us?” Cyprian asked.

Razion shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that his pursuit of the Zaruxians wasn’t, in fact, a secret. “Yes. Got a visit from one of the robed ones themselves. He had a message for you.”

“What was it?” Cyprian asked.

“Can this wait just a little?” Lilas asked as her cool hand cupped his cheek. “Razion, try to stop this transformation, okay? I’ve heard that the dragon form is very large and very destructive, and we’re very happy with the furniture and decor. It would be a shame to have to replace it.”

He looked up at her, trying to understand what she was trying to tell him, and saw her lips curved in a smile. “I love you, Lilas. I’d never—”

“I know.” She cut him off by placing her other hand on his other cheek. “I heard you the first time. And the second. I could get used to hearing it.” She smiled at him and it felt as if he could breathe again. “I love you, too.”

On a groan, he yanked her against his body and into his arms. He buried his face in her neck as tears burned in his eyes and words fell from his mouth.

Fek it all, he loved this female. And he would spend every breath proving it.

To her.

To himself.

And to the universe.