Page 3 of Pursued by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #4)

THREE

Lilas

Razion was too good-looking to be trustworthy. That was Lilas’ first thought as she followed him out of the gilded cell that had been her room. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and moved with the easy, unhurried confidence of someone who knew he was in control. Like nothing and no one could rattle him. His gold scales shimmered in the dim lighting, catching on the flex of his arms beneath the fitted sleeves of his well-worn vest. He had the kind of body that spoke of power—not just strength, but precision. The way his muscles shifted beneath his clothes, taut and fluid, reminded her of a predator tracking its prey.

Then there was his face. He had the kind of jawline that looked like it had taken its fair share of hits, with faint shadows in the hollows beneath his defined cheekbones. A mouth that quirked at the corner like he was always on the edge of amusement—or trouble. His nose was straight, a little too perfect, but it was his eyes that unsettled her the most. Gray, storm-cloud dark, and way too observant. It wasn’t just that they looked at her—it was the way they saw her, like he was peeling back every layer to find whatever secrets she was trying to keep.

She didn’t like that.

She also didn’t have a choice.

Her bare feet were silent against the polished floor as she kept pace with him. The ship was eerily silent and the fading smell of burned metal was proof that whatever fight had happened, it was over.

They rounded a corner, and her gaze landed on the very dead Gribna, sprawled on the floor of a large, fancy chamber. The sight of those bloated boils made her mouth curl. “For someone so rich, you’d think he could afford a doctor to fix that mess on his skin,” she muttered.

Razion glanced at her with something like amusement. “The boils? They’re a sign of peak health for his species.”

Lilas blinked. Stared at him. Then looked at Gribna again. “You’re telling me,” she said, slowly, “that the dripping, rancid pustules were intentional?”

Razion shrugged. “Not intentional, but ideal. The more boils, the stronger the genetic line. Females of his kind think that’s attractive.”

Lilas let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Well. That explains why he thought I should be grateful for his attention.”

Razion’s smirk deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gestured for her to keep moving. She did, but not without one last glance at Gribna’s corpse. Disgust rippled through her, but beneath it, there was relief.

One less monster in the galaxy. She could live with that.

Lilas followed Razion through the ship’s corridors, her bare feet cool against the sleek floors. The ship smelled of scorched metal and ozone, the aftermath of the battle still hanging in the air.

She exhaled, relieved. “So, what happened to Gribna’s crew?” she asked carefully. “Because I remember guards. And Gribna had these robots with pincers for hands.”

“Neutralized,” Razion said easily. “Would you like to hear the details?”

Lilas shook her head, satisfied with his answer. Her wrists still felt grimy from Gribna’s hold on them earlier, and her skin still remembered the pain caused by those cuffs. Whatever had happened to the rest of his crew, she wasn’t about to lose sleep over it.

They stepped through a neatly burned hole in the side of the cabin and into a short, white chamber that ended in a sleek door. Razion pressed a panel, and the door slid open to reveal the interior of another ship. Sleeker. Darker. Less flashy than Gribna’s monstrosity, which made her feel slightly better about her situation.

He finally turned to face her fully, arms crossed over his chest. “You planning to run?”

Lilas snorted. “I’m barefoot, in this ridiculous excuse for clothing, and I highly doubt you leave your ship unattended for anyone to stroll in and take off, not that I’d have a clue how to do that. If I thought I had a chance, though? Maybe.”

Razion studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Fair enough.” He gestured around him with no small amount of pride. “Welcome aboard the Darkslip. She’s capable of full cloaking and recovers from a full fold in only thirty-six peks .”

Lilas sighed and stepped past him. “Luckiest day of my life.”

The Darkslip was a stark contrast to Gribna’s gaudy monstrosity. The corridors were narrower, built for efficiency rather than excess, and the metal walls gleamed in a matte black finish. Cool blue lights lined the edges of the floor, casting just enough glow to navigate without wasting energy, and the air was clean and oxygenated. The ship wasn’t cramped, but it had a utilitarian feel—sleek, functional, designed for speed and maneuverability rather than comfort.

Lilas scanned the space, her arms still crossed over her chest. “Well,” she said, glancing over at Razion. “At least you don’t have decorative pillows.”

He smirked, stepping ahead of her. “Not a fan of excessive embellishments?”

“No use for them, personally,” she said, trailing behind him. “Unless you can eat them.”

Razion chuckled as he led her deeper into the ship, his long strides forcing her to pick up her pace. “Then I suppose you’ll manage here, for a while, anyway. Until we get you someplace safe.”

Ah, so he was planning on dropping her off somewhere. That made sense. Lilas hesitated in the doorway of the small but functional room Razion had led her to. It was nothing like the absurd luxury of Gribna’s ship—no gold-trimmed furniture, no ridiculous silk cushions. Just a bed, a narrow storage unit, and a door that Razion had pointed to with a simple, “Washroom’s through there.”

She glanced at him, arms still crossed. “And if I don’t feel like bathing?”

Razion’s lips twitched like he was barely restraining a smirk. “Then you’ll stay filthy. Your choice.”

Her jaw tightened. That was the right answer, and she hated that it was the right answer. He wasn’t ordering her. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her into compliance. He was just…giving her space. That made her more suspicious of him, not less.

Before she could come up with something sharp to say, he continued, “When you’re done, there’ll be clothes and food waiting.”

That got her attention. She schooled her expression so she didn’t look too eager, but the mention of food made her stomach tighten painfully. She hadn’t eaten a real meal since—she didn’t know when.

Razion must have noticed something shift in her because his gaze softened just a fraction. “Take your time,” he said. Then, without another word, he stepped back and the door slid shut between them.

Lilas released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Alone, finally.

She turned toward the washroom, her fingers twitching to scrub the lingering feel of Gribna’s touch off her skin.

She had no idea what came next. But for now? Now, she was going to get clean. The washroom was small but efficient, like everything else on Razion’s ship. A sleek panel on the wall flickered to life when she stepped inside, and a soft, automated voice murmured something about temperature settings. Lilas ignored it, focusing on the smooth, dark walls and the scent of clean water.

She pressed her palm to a round sensor, and a fine spray of warm water sprang from all directions, soaking her instantly. A quiet gasp escaped her lips before she pulled herself together. It had been a long time since she’d had anything but cold, rationed water to scrub the dirt from her skin. Letting the warmth sink in, she rubbed at her arms, her fingers tracing over faint indentations where the cuffs had been. The red marks were still there, stark against her skin, but the pain was gone.

A small compartment slid open, revealing a clear gel that smelled nice. Soap. Sweet fek , there was soap . She took some without hesitation, scrubbing hard, not stopping even when her skin felt raw. She wanted to wash away even the memory of Gribna’s ship.

By the time she finally stepped out, steam was curling around her. She felt lighter. Not entirely clean—not in the way that mattered—but better. More like herself.

A neatly folded set of clothes waited on the bed, along with a tray of food. Lilas eyed both for a moment, her stomach twisting with hunger. She grabbed the clothes first—a simple, dark tunic and soft pants—and tugged them on without hesitation. They were a little loose but warm and sturdy. Practical.

Then, finally, she reached for the food.

The first bite of something that wasn’t stale rations or runny broth almost made her groan. It was simple, some kind of protein and grains, but it was real, and it was hers.

She ate quickly, barely aware of anything but the ache in her stomach easing with every bite. It wasn’t until she was licking the last crumbs from her fingers that she finally let herself think.

She was on a pirate’s ship. Free, but not. Safe, but only for now.

And Razion? She didn’t know what to think of him.

He hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t threatened her. Hadn’t even demanded gratitude for the rescue she hadn’t asked for. Yet .

That was the part that unsettled her the most. Every rescue had a price. Every so-called savior had an angle. She just hadn’t figured out his yet.

Lilas leaned back against the bed, staring up at the metal ceiling. The hum of the ship vibrated beneath her skin. She had no idea where they were going or what Razion intended to do with her, aside from a vague statement of getting her somewhere “safe.” But she wasn’t na?ve enough to think she was just along for the ride out of the goodness of his heart.

With a sharp inhale, she pushed to her feet and squared her shoulders. She’d figure it out. She always did. Just as she reached for the door’s panel, it slid open on its own. Razion stood on the other side, arms crossed, like he knew she’d be coming out.

“Ah,” he said. “You didn’t take too long. I trust you enjoyed the luxury of strong water pressure.”

Lilas arched a brow. “Careful, Captain, or I might start thinking you’re civilized.”

His lips twitched but he didn’t move. “Feeling better?”

She hated that she was. It was easier to be angry when she felt miserable. “What do you want, Razion?”

His expression didn’t shift, but there was something assessing in the way he watched her. “To talk.”

Lilas exhaled sharply. “Of course you do.”

“Unless you’d rather sit in this room in silence?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but she resisted. She needed information, a clear picture of where she stood, and that meant playing along.

“Fine,” she said, stepping past him into the corridor. “Let’s talk.”

Razion led her down the hall, past the quiet hum of the engine room and toward what looked like a common area—a large space filled with sleek seating and where a curved wall of monitors displayed navigation routes, power systems, and flashing alerts. Three crew members were already there, gathered around the main console.

Lilas stopped, arms crossed and instantly on guard.

Razion strode in like he owned the place—which, to be fair, he did. “This is Lilas, a Terian,” he said casually. “She’s coming with us.”

The first to look up was a broad-shouldered male with dark green skin, heavy brow ridges, and thick, curling horns that swept back from his skull. His gray uniform was scuffed from the fight, but he carried himself with a steadiness that told Lilas he was used to being in charge right beneath Razion. His amber eyes flicked to her, assessing. “That wise?” he asked. His tone was even, respectful, but Lilas could tell he didn’t like the idea.

Razion’s smile was sharp. “I’m feeling generous. She was a prize of Gribna, and she needs a ride.” He clapped the male on the shoulder. “Lilas, this is Krask. First mate.”

Krask nodded, polite but distant. Lilas met his gaze without blinking. She didn’t need to see inside his head to know what he thought—a woman on her way to a harem must not be anything worth keeping around. His expression didn’t say it outright, but she saw the flicker of judgment in his eyes before he looked away.

To Krask’s left, another male leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He was lean, with pointed ears and skin that shimmered faintly, like a beevle’s shell. Unlike Krask, he grinned at her, curiosity bright in his dark eyes. “Vedd,” he introduced himself with a lazy wave. “I do all the important work around here. Like making sure the ship doesn’t explode.”

Lilas arched a brow. “Good to know.”

The last crew member tilted her head, studying Lilas with sharp golden eyes. She was tall. Her thick red-orange hair cropped just above her shoulders, and she had the kind of wiry, muscled build that made Lilas believe she could take down someone three times her size. Her dark gray outfit looked well-worn, made for movement, and held a few obvious weapons strapped to her thighs. Unlike Krask, her expression held no judgment—just curiosity, assessing Lilas like she was determining if she was trouble or not.

“Cozax,” she said. “Weapons specialist.”

“Clearly,” Lilas replied. “I won’t be getting in your way.”

Cozax looked between Lilas and Razion with a glint of amusement. “I like her,” she said to him.

Krask, on the other hand, didn’t smile. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly like he thought this whole situation was a bad idea. “She’s an outsider, Captain. We don’t take unnecessary risks.” His words were careful, respectful, but there was an unmistakable edge of skepticism.

Razion’s eyes darkened slightly as he addressed him. “She’s coming. End of discussion.”

Krask didn’t argue further, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. Lilas caught the way his gaze flicked over her again. The distaste in his expression was unmistakable before he turned away.

She kept her jaw locked and didn’t react, but irritation burned under her skin. Let him think what he wanted. She wasn’t here to prove a damn thing to him. She couldn’t control what people assumed about her, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to waste her energy fixing their misconceptions.

Instead, Lilas focused on Cozax, who seemed far more like her kind of person. “So, what happens now?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Cozax tilted her head, clearly entertained. “That all depends, Terian. You going to cause problems on this ship?”

A slow smile curved Lilas’ lips. “Depends,” she said. “You plan on giving me a reason to?”

Cozax let out a short laugh. “Oh, I really like her.”

Vedd grinned. Krask said nothing.

Razion, who had been watching the exchange with that unreadable smirk of his, tilted his head toward one of the consoles. “Vedd, were you able to pull anything from Gribna’s databanks?”

Vedd swiveled to the display, fingers moving rapidly over the screen. The blue light from the console reflected off his iridescent skin as lines of text and encrypted transmissions scrolled before him. Lilas, who’d never been taught to read or write in any language—reading was forbidden by the Axis—stared helplessly at the mess of symbols. “I’ve pulled a lot, but it will take time to sort through all the layers of encryption,” he said. “Gribna was a greedy bastard, but he wasn’t sloppy. Many of his files are locked up.”

Razion folded his arms across his chest. “Have you seen anything useful so far?”

Vedd shrugged. “Aside from his staggeringly bad taste in furniture, I found records of multiple transactions with Axis-controlled outposts, but they need to be decrypted to get the details from them. That includes their supply chains, payout logs, and—get this—direct communications with an Axis warlord.” He flicked his fingers over the controls, pulling up a grainy transmission. A hooded figure loomed on the screen, words distorted by static.

Razion’s expression sharpened. “Can you clean up the audio?”

“Already working on it,” Vedd said. “But from what I’ve deciphered, Gribna was smuggling more than just power cells. There are mentions of bio-assets.”

Lilas frowned. “Bio-assets?”

Krask, however, hissed through his teeth. “Captain, this is sensitive information. We can’t have unvetted prisoners—”

Razion cut him off with a sharp look. “She’s no longer a prisoner. She was taken from an Axis-controlled colony, which means she knows more than you do about what life under them looks like.”

Lilas frowned. “Wait. Prisoner? ” The word sat wrong in her mouth. “Why did you call me that?”

Razion gestured to her neck, to the blue markings she’d never thought twice about because everyone at the settlements had them. “That’s a penal colony identifier. You…didn’t know that?”

“No…” The air in Lilas’ lungs turned to stone. Penal colony . The words rattled through her, locking into place with a sickening finality. If Razion was correct, and he sounded very sure that he was, Settlement 112-1 hadn’t been a farming settlement. It had been a prison. That was why no one could ever leave. Why they were forced to work until they collapsed, why the Axis controlled them so completely.

She thought of her father, of the overseer with his ever-watchful eyes, of the generations of people who had lived and died working the fields without ever knowing they were captives.

Her whole life had been in a cell. She had just never seen the bars.

Lilas swallowed hard, forcing the revelation into some corner of her mind where it wouldn’t unravel her. Not now. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and met Razion’s gaze, testing. He wasn’t patronizing her, wasn’t dismissing her input outright. That was…different. Terian males would’ve either ignored her or assumed she was useless.

Alright then .

Krask’s mouth tightened. “See? This is a bad idea.”

Her stomach twisted, but she ignored the first mate. She’d already known Gribna was a monster, but hearing it confirmed, hearing just how deep his dealings ran, made her skin crawl. She glanced at Razion and his crew, the weight of the revelation sinking in. “So he wasn’t just trading illegal goods,” she said. “He was trafficking people.”

Vedd nodded, his expression grim. “Yeah. And not just a few. His logs show regular shipments. Entire groups being moved like cargo.”

Lilas swallowed hard. “And my settlement—” She cut herself off, the truth hitting her like a blow to the gut.

Cozax watched her, her arms crossed. “You’re realizing it now, aren’t you?” she asked, softer than before. “How many more places like yours exist?”

Lilas exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “I always thought we were just…poor. That the Axis controlled us because they’d manipulated many of our people into worshipping them as deities. But we were prisoners from birth, and we didn’t even know it.” Lilas clenched her fists. The weight of everything pressed down on her. Gribna had helped keep that system running. And if he had been involved, there had to be more like him—more traders, more supply chains, more lives stolen and sold in secret.

It hit her suddenly that she had been lucky, in a sick way, to be abducted by those raiders. It had given her a way out. To learn the truth. But the rest of her people? They were still there. Still waiting for a savior that would never come.

Unless someone burned the whole damn system to the ground.

She glanced at the crew, at the way they moved together, the understanding that passed between them without words. There was something solid here. A trust, a purpose. Something she didn’t have.

Not yet.

Vedd continued working, his focus intent on the screen, while Krask remained stiff, clearly displeased with her presence. Cozax just grinned like she was waiting for something entertaining to happen.

Lilas sighed. “Well. If we’re digging into this mess, might as well do it right,” she said.

Razion arched a brow at her. “You planning to help?”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind. You planning to let me?”

Cozax laughed again, clearly relishing the way Lilas held her ground. “She would have turned Gribna’s harem upside down,” she said, nudging Vedd with her elbow. “Almost a shame to not see that.”

Razion’s gaze lingered on her, steady and unreadable. He was a mystery, locked and closed, but Lilas held his gaze and refused to fidget under his scrutiny. If he was trying to decide whether or not to let her stay, that was fine. She could decide whether or not she even wanted to.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. “You can stay, if you want. For now.”

Lilas arched a brow. “Oh, wow. That’s so generous.”

He raised one dark brow, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Provisional crew member,” he clarified. “Don’t expect instant trust. You’ll have to earn that.”

Lilas shrugged. She hadn’t expected anything different. “Fair enough. But I assume if I’m part of this crew, provisional or not, I should know what exactly it is you do.”

“We disrupt trade routes of criminals,” he replied. “We redistribute wealth to those who’ve been harmed, and step on the Axis whenever we get the chance.”

Cozax grinned, propping a boot up on a nearby chair. “In simpler terms? We make life miserable for the bastards profiting off people like you .”

Lilas absorbed that, tapping her fingers against her forearm. It wasn’t exactly noble, but it wasn’t evil either. They weren’t scavengers preying on the weak. They were vultures circling the rot of the galaxy. It wasn’t a bad gig.

“So, what?” she asked, tilting her head at Razion. “You give your stolen treasures to the poor and starving?”

Vedd snorted. “If there’s any left after keeping the ship running, paying off those who help us, and making sure we don’t starve.”

Razion didn’t deny it. “We do what we can.”

Lilas narrowed her eyes at him. She had spent her entire life surrounded by people who made their motivations clear—greed, survival, and desperation. Razion didn’t fit neatly into any of those categories, and that bothered her. She liked it when people made sense. He didn’t.

But if this crew was already fighting against the Axis, then she was exactly where she needed to be.

“Alright,” she said. “When do I start?”

A slow smile spread across Razion’s far too attractive face. It sent an alarming flush to her neck. “You already have.”

Lilas glanced around the room again, at the crew she wasn’t sure she trusted yet, but who at least didn’t seem eager to toss her out an air lock. That was something, at least.

She was still stuck in a situation she hadn’t chosen. Still in a life that wasn’t hers.

But for now?

She’d play along.