Page 29 of Scorching the Alien Empire (The Klendathian Cycle #7)
“So, how’s this work?” Drexios asks, his voice grating like fake nails on a chalkboard, seemingly allergic to a single moment of silence.
“The young War Chief got two for one? You both take turns, or is it a jiggling free-for-all? Twice the pussy, twice the power?” His predatory grin shifts between Sandra and me, as if we should dignify him with an answer.
“Why are you being so rude?” Sandra snaps, her face scrunching in anger. It’s adorable—like an indignant, barking fox cub trying to scare off a grizzly. “We’ve been nothing but nice to you.”
“Nice would be answering my questions,” Drexios retorts, his tone losing its amusement. He leans down, resting his chin on my head to glare at Sandra, a blatant taunt that makes my skin crawl.
“Back off,” I hiss through clenched teeth, shoving against his armored chest with all the force of a kitten batting a brick wall. “Dracoth’s my Mortakin-Kai. Sandra’s my ginger-in-waiting.”
“Lexie,” Sandra scolds, her tone dripping with disapproval. “Now, you’re both being rude.”
Drexios presses his lips together like he’s thinking—which I doubt he’s capable of—and straightens slowly.
“Superstitious, preposterous, voiding nonsense,” he mutters under his breath.
But his scarred face twists into an ominous grin as his gaze shifts back to Sandra.
“Hey, Fire-on-head, come back to my quarters, and we’ll see if we can get lasers shooting out of my nipples.
” He snorts at his own joke as if it were funny.
“No chance!” Sandra exclaims, her hand flying to her mouth as if she can stuff the words back in. Too late.
The guards whip their heads toward the source of the outburst. Sandra’s freckled face flushes as red as her hair. “Crap. Sorry...” she whispers, shrinking into herself like a mouse caught stealing cheese by the house cat.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Drexios replies with a smirk, his voice laced with dark amusement.
“An earache and the most regrettable five minutes of her life,” I cut in, unable to suppress the acid dripping from my words.
Sandra giggles, covering her mouth, while Drexios’s single red eye gleams down at me in the dim purple light.
“Are you sour because of that disgusting growth?” He flicks a finger toward the too-cute Todd perched on my shoulder. “I’ll cut it off.” With a jarring snap , a razor-sharp claw extends from the tip of his finger.
I flinch back, shielding Todd protectively with my hands. “Hands off the royal cherub!” I snap, glaring silver daggers at the wannabe Todd murderer.
The guards whip their heads around, their scowls dripping with disapproval. But I don’t care. I’ll shatter every window in the universe with my screams if it means saving my chug bug.
Todd, finally disturbed by the commotion, unfurls his plump, segmented body. His singular black eye snaps to Drexios, mirroring the confusion spreading across Drexios’s stupid face. Todd stretches taut on his spindly legs, his mandibles clacking threateningly.
“It’s a voiding cyloillar,” Drexios mutters, his tone tinged with surprise. His expression twists into disgust. “And the fattest, ugliest one I’ve ever seen.”
Todd clacks louder, as though Drexios were nothing more than a giant jelly stick in need of eating.
I gasp, utterly offended on Todd’s behalf. “Todd is not fat or ugly! He’s the most—”
“—Voiding parasite,” Drexios interrupts with a sneer, his massive hand darting forward to snatch at Todd.
A wildfire of fury and terror courses through me.
Instinctively, I reach for my Mortakin-Kai, my Dracoth, through the sacred bond between us.
The silvery flame of my soul roars in the shared space we alone inhabit, crying out for the heat of his blood-red fire.
His rage answers mine, burning hot and protective, filling me, completing me.
Together, our fires blaze—a searing union of silver and red strong enough to scorch the cosmos to ash.
My focus sharpens, as clear and focused as Drexios’s gleaming claw hovers inches from Todd.
“Don’t you dare ,” I hiss, summoning a goddess shield with a flash of will. Its barely visible edges shimmer in the dim purple and green light as it snaps into existence, interposing itself between Todd and Drexios.
A spine-tingling screech of claw against impenetrable glass jars my senses. Drexios’s red eye widens in shock as his strike deflects harmlessly, the force of it sending his hand off-course and his hulking frame stumbling sideways.
“You’re doing it now, aren’t you, sorceress?
” Drexios drawls, recovering quickly, his wrist rotating as though testing for damage.
His head hangs sideways, his lips curling into a predator’s grin.
“Yes... look at those pretty eyes of yours. Red and silver, oh, how they mist, how they burn—just like one of us.”
He straightens abruptly, his leering face looming closer, his gaze crawling over my skin like Todd’s horrible stepbrother.
“A little pink Klend—”
“Oh, shut up, Drex-iot, ” I sigh, flicking my wrist lazily at him. Four of my divine barriers spring to life, shimmering into existence and boxing him in.
Drexios’ gaze darts around the silvery walls, his expression shifting from infuriating smugness to delicious panic.
He pounds his fists uselessly against the barriers, the muffled thuds as dull as he is.
“You’re boring me now. Go sit over there like a good doggie,” I coo, willing my barriers to shift to my right.
Slowly, inexorably, Drexios is carried along, despite his frantic punches and claws scraping down the invisible surfaces. His curses grow muffled as the barriers press him against the black marble like the universe’s ugliest, noisiest wall decoration.
Finally, a loud exhale escapes me. Poor little Todd.
This cruel, heartless universe is no place for his soft, plump perfection.
Just like me, he’s too beautiful, too misunderstood.
Jealous bitches can’t handle it. They lash out, trying to destroy what they’ll never have, what they’ll never be : divine.
I gently stroke Todd’s rubbery body, whispering soothing words to lull him back to his adorable, curled-up beauty sleep.
His mandibles twitch once, then relax. My gaze drifts to Dracoth, high up on his throne, staring ahead like a big boring red statue.
Not a single flinch of acknowledgment that his so-called Second nearly skewered our precious royal cherub like a shish kabob.
My irritation flares, narrowing my eyes and curling my fists into trembling balls of rage.
This is his fault. I should be up there with him—his goddess wife—not down here with the riffraff.
Can you feel my anger through the bond, Dracoth? You big, red, Mr. Frowny Face!
“Do you think Drexios is going to be okay in there?” Sandra asks, her gaze locked to our right, her voice laced with far too much concern for some unknown reason.
“He’ll be fine,” I snap, not bothering to look at her, my eyes fixed on the stone-faced Dracoth. The longer he ignores me, the more my annoyance burns, fueling the growing storm inside me.
I hate it!
It’s like I don’t exist. I might as well be one of the banners fluttering against the walls.
“If you say so,” Sandra mutters, her doubtful tone pricking at my nerves.
Ugh!
Then it hits me—a lightning bolt of divine inspiration, straight from Arawnoth. Oh, I know exactly how to make Dracoth notice me! A devious, delightfully naughty idea spreads a wicked grin across my face, banishing my scowl.
So very carefully, I summon an array of small, shimmering shields around Dracoth’s impressive package of man meat.
Laughter bubbles in my chest, threatening to spill out when his crimson gaze snaps to me, his usual Mr. Frowny Face now extra frowny.
His fingers tighten around the massive skull armrests of his throne, the bones creaking under his grip.
But the naughtiness has only just begun. I will my divine barriers to stroke up and down his length, savoring the faint widening of his eyes and the way he shifts forward in his seat to hide his... growing predicament.
I can feel his member pressing against my shields, the same way I can feel Drexios attacking his doggy cage. Dracoth’s a very big boy, so I spread my shields wider to accommodate his thickening, throbbing manhood.
My grin widens as I watch his muscles tense, his jaw clenching with each stroke. He’s practically squirming in his immense throne of bone and obsidian, and it’s delicious . I don’t let up, his reactions only fueling my mischief as I increase the tempo.
“War Chieftain, are you well?” Corsark asks, his voice laced with concern. He glances nervously at the other bone-through-the-nose space-knights flanking him.
I’m surprised he noticed anything at all, given his endless boasting.
“Yes,” Dracoth grumbles, his glare burning a hole through me.
It’s a struggle not to look away. His displeasure radiates from his expression and through our bond in waves of molten fury. Instead, I force a doe-eyed expression of feigned innocence, clutching the blazing Arawnoth brand on my chest with mock surprise.
“Continue, Corsark,” Dracoth urges, flicking a massive hand dismissively. A teeny-tiny smirk—barely visible—creases his lip, and I know I’m in trouble.
Suddenly, a warmth explodes between my legs, making my knees quiver and my back straighten.
It’s definitely not normal—nothing Dracoth does is normal.
The heat pulses, leaving molten pleasure in little zigzagging trails over my lady bits.
The pattern he’s tracing is unmistakably his, a reminder of how well he knows my body.
“Ohhh.” A treacherous moan escapes my clenched lips.
“Why are you mooing like a cow, Lexie?” Sandra asks, her voice a mix of amusement and concern. Her blue eyes flick to the guards, who are doing their best to pretend they’re not listening.