Page 100 of Scorching the Alien Empire (The Klendathian Cycle #7)
She opens her eyes, wide with horror. I’m still moving with the crushing weight of consequence. Closer. Towering. Unstoppable.
“You think you’re clever?” she blurts, a laugh sharp and brittle. “But your big bore head is missing the obvious,” she sneers, jabbing a trembling finger at me. “If you kill me, you lose your powers.”
I pause, gaze faltering. Kill her?
“ Glowsticks, ” I remind her, bitterness oozing free. “I am my own power. A titan of war.” I slam my gauntlet to my chest with a resounding clang.
Princesa’s courage finally wanes. She stumbles, nearly tripping over a slag-warped stool, retreating fast into a corner.
“Leave Todd and me alone, you big scary asshole! ” she screeches, clutching the oblivious blob in her arms. “It’s okay, Chug Bug, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. He’s just... having a tantrum. That’s all.”
I approach slowly. Her eyes lock onto mine—silver daggers, glinting hate and hurt in equal measure.
“ You’re jealous ,” she spits. “That’s all this is, isn’t it?
Because Arawnoth abandoned you for being a big blubbering crybaby, you’d rather ruin it for me instead of growing stronger like the Sacred Words demand. ”
She hurls words like knives—wild, bitter, flailing.
“I always knew, under the murder-jock act you were just an inexperienced virgin with daddy issues. And now you’re taking it out on me. Well, you know what? I’m not scared of you. I’m not sorry. And I don’t give a fuck what happens to me anymore!”
She’s unraveling.
I stop. Let my shadow fall over her. She flinches. Backs into the corner like a wounded animal.
Then, suddenly—she hurls Todd toward the exit.
The creature flails, spindly legs twitching from its bloated segmented body. Its singular black eye gleams, reflecting my confused face.
“Run, Todd! Be free! Save yourself from bad daddy Dracoth! ” Princesa shrieks with genuine panic.
The cyloillar scurries toward me, clambers up my leg, then arm, and promptly curls on my shoulder. Croaking softly in sleep.
Princesa stares blinking. “You wee traitor! Even he’s abandoned me.”
I move toward her slowly, silently.
“He smells your repugnant fear,” I say. “As do I.”
My hand lowers, two fingers grasping her delicate neck, lifting her to her feet like a toy. Her breath hitches—no longer fighting, just trembling.
She rasps— hands clutching my wrist as I bear down on her, fear shimmering in the depths of her mercury eyes.
Then... she shifts.
A hoarse laugh bubbles from her lips. The nails that once dug into my vambrace now stroke playfully. Her fear turns syrupy. Eyes flutter. Her voice lowers.
“That’s it, my Red Dragon,” she purrs, pressing her softness against the unyielding arcweave of my armor. “Let’s fuck it out. Like we used to.”
She throws her head back, laughter cracked and crooked. Her fingers trail fire along my belt.
“You still want me, don’t you? Put that massive cock in me.
Prove I’m yours,” she whispers, voice sticky with heat and desperation.
She plants human female kisses across the obsidian plating of my chest—metal that’s drunk the blood of empires.
“Isn’t this what you want? A little obedient toy to play with. I can be that for you.”
Her hands move to my belt. Tearing. Pulling. Her breath quickens.
“Remember what we were?” she gasps. “Unstoppable. You and me. Ruling the Lexie-verse like you promised.” A moan laces her words, wild and hungry. “You said we’d rise to the top. That we’d take it all.”
Heat builds. Need rises with aching, burning force. Princesa—her breathtaking delicate beauty. The groans of submission, speaking of power. The way she moves, the way she melts against me. The wildfire rises in me. Like nostalgia—a lost part of me, the best part returning.
My fingers curl into her golden hair. I yank her head back. She groans—a husky willing sound. Neck bared. Lips parted, beckoning me onward. She’s mine to feast upon, mine to devour. I lower to claim what belongs to me.
Then I stop.
Through our bond—I feel it . Not lust. Not affection. No. Manipulation. The expectation of looming victory.
She expects me to give in. She thinks she’s won.
Revulsion ignites. Cold. Absolute.
The fire inside me douses in a rush of bitter ice. I shove her away, breath ragged, shame licking at the edges of my soul.
Her sultry smile warps into a sneer. “What? Not man enough?” she spits. “Going to run off crying again?” Her voice cracks. The fury can’t quite hide the grief bleeding through. “Maybe I should visit this Krogoth guy. Bet he knows how to fuck like a real man.”
Her words are vipertail poison.
I look at her—this blazing ruin where once my Princesa stood.
“I was wrong,” I mutter, each word a claw wound, an enemy I can’t overcome. “My Princesa... she’s gone.”
I turn, cloak dragging ash behind me. Our bond—I will sever it with distance.
“Wait!”
Her voice—raw, breaking. She grabs my hand.
“Todd.” Her lips tremble. “Our Chug Bug.”
Todd clings to my shoulder, croaking in soft protest as I pry him free, careful not to crush his squishy body. His bloated form wiggles as I place him onto her shoulder with care.
“Your... creature,” I growl.
She pets him absently, raw eyes fixed on the floor. “Th... thanks.”
Then—suddenly—she lunges.
Her arms wrap around my waist, clinging tight. Desperate. Shaking.
“Don’t go,” she pleads, voice cracking. “Not you too. Everyone leaves, Dracoth. Everyone .”
Her grip tightens like I’m the last tether keeping her from being swallowed whole.
Sobs vibrate through my armor. This is no trick. No game. Her pain screams louder than any divine proclamation.
“My friends. My mother. A father I never met. No matter how hard I tried...” Her breath shudders. Sobs ripple through her. “Then I found you. Arawnoth. Aenarael... things got better. And for the first time, I felt alive. That people cared about me. Like I wasn’t invisible anymore.”
She buries her face into my chestplate, voice muffled, broken. “And now it’s all gone. Even the Gods have abandoned me. And you...”
Her shoulders quake with sobs. Raw. Guttural. A torrent of emotion that crashes over me like a wave. I expected more rage. Defiance. Not this.
“My beautiful, flawed Princesa,” I murmur, unsure of the words, unsure of myself. My warrior’s mind falters before this storm of chaotic sorrow. “Is it this fear that drives your fire?” I ask, brushing wet strands of hair from her trembling face.
“No,” she chokes, the sound a rasping wail. “No, Dracoth... worse.” Her voice breaks, cracked open. “I thought I didn’t need you anymore. I thought I was better than you.”
She presses her fists to her eyes, sobs wracking her frame. “I’m so fucking sorry, Dracoth. You were always there for me. Even when I tried to push you away. No matter how hard I shoved, you wouldn’t budge—my big red mountain.”
She lets out a strangled, wet laugh. “You were different. You stayed. I need you, Dracoth. I need your heat. Please... please don’t leave me.”
She crumples at my feet, arms wrapped around my legs like a lifeline, her frame trembling, her voice broken.
“You promised we’d rise to the top. The respect—I need it, Dracoth.
As much as I need you.” She lifts her face, blotched and ash-streaked.
“I know I shouldn’t care. I know I’ve failed you.
I can’t pretend to be a better wife, not like you deserve.
But when you lost your powers... I panicked.
I thought I could be the strong one. Thought I had to follow the Sacred Words and drag us there myself. You. Me. And wee Todd too.”
Her fingers rise—not to seduce, not to provoke—but to reach. To connect. To beg for something real.
And I see it. I feel it. The aching truth in her touch. The weight of her longing. The burn of ambition still flickering in her chest like a dying star. Maybe she is right. A promise was made. We were meant to rise. Arawnoth demands it.
But not like this. Not through more blood. Not by killing one of our own.
“Arise, my Mortakin-Kis.” I take her hand gently, raising her to her feet, letting her stand with dignity once more. “We’ll rise. Together. But Krogoth falls by peace... or not at all.”
“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay, peace. I’ll try.”
Then quieter—
“Just don’t leave.”