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“He won’t stand a chance against us,” I sneer, my heart pounding as I look at my towering red dragon.

“He will not, my Mortakin-Kis,” Dracoth promises, his words laced with steely intensity. The sound of his voice is like music to my ears, and my legs quiver. His massive, searing hand pulls me closer, but all I see is his brutal, intoxicating face as it draws nearer.

His lips crash into mine, a roaring inferno that melts me completely. I surrender to him, his heat a reflection of the molten fire building in my core. Our tongues collide, chaotic and hungry—a passion only two who are completely unshackled and authentic can conjure.

I fumble to wrap my arms around his incredibly broad shoulders, desperate to pull him closer. Needing him to fuck my brains out.

“Oh my God!” Sandra’s voice slices through the haze like an icy blade. “I see you two are getting along better... a lot better!” she titters, her tone high-pitched and awkward.

“Yes,” I laugh breathlessly, breaking from Dracoth’s lips, though my eyes linger on his glowing red gaze. The unspoken promise in them sends a fresh wave of heat through me. “He’s a real menace!” I turn, flashing Sandra a wicked smile.

“I bet,” Sandra mutters, cheeks red with embarrassment, while my heart and scorched brand blaze like wildfire. But her brow furrows suddenly, and she stares at me with a mix of confusion and alarm. “Um... Lexie? Why are your boobs on fire?”

I glance down. “Oh, this?” I wave off her concern with a chuckle. “This is—”

“It’s your bloody lizard skin again!” Sandra rudely interrupts, her hand clamped over her mouth in shock. “Carmen was right. You’re like a salamander or something!”

“No, actually!” I tut, savoring the moment as I run my fingers over the intricate, glowing runes etched into my skin. “This,” I say, my voice rising with pride, “is Arawnoth’s blessing.”

I lift my chin, letting the words roll out like a proclamation, the memory of that glorious firestorm filling me with renewed energy.

“Arawnoth?” Sandra asks, scrunching her face like she just sucked on a lemon. “Their God?” Her eyes dart nervously to the mingling crowd of Klendathians.

“My God,” I retort, my voice low and sharp. It’s funny to think about—just a short time ago, I would’ve been too embarrassed to admit my fascination with the rituals, with Arawnoth’s heat. Now, I feel ashamed I ever tried to deny him, to turn away from his divine presence.

Sandra’s gaze flickers to Dracoth and Celutok, both engrossed in their conversation. “Wait. You’re not being serious, are you?” she whispers, leaning closer. “This is one of your jokes, right?”

“Nope.” I grin, savoring the widening of her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m still the same thoughtful Lexie.” I don’t add the rest—that I’m so much more now. Beneath my skin, power bubbles, yearning to break free. I’m like a living goddess… I think, letting the thought linger as I stare at Sandra.

“Great!” Sandra throws her hands up in mock exasperation. “And now your eyes are glowing silver.” She glares at me, her tone laced with equal parts worry and disbelief. “What’s happening to you?”

“Nothing. That’s just my divine powers flaring,” I titter sweetly, waving her amusing concern away. “You remember those bond gifts Dracoth mentioned? Well, I’ve got them.” I grin, trying to mask my smugness—and failing.

“No way, really?” Sandra’s sweaty face lights up, and her reaction makes my heart flutter with unexpected joy.

“And the... Arawnoth’s blessing?” she asks, eyes darting to the runic embers etched on my chest. “Is that like an alien tattoo that’s also a mood ring or something?”

“Hardly!” I scoff, offended by the absurd comparison.

“Arawnoth himself gave me this.” I run my fingers over the blackened, bumpy skin, tracing the markings.

“When I almost died after Ignixis shoved me into that giant freezer.” My smile fades as the memory resurfaces. “Arawnoth saved me,” I murmur softly.

Sandra shakes her head, sending her damp ginger hair swaying like she’s just had a bucket of water dumped on her.

“That... sounds completely insane, Lexie.” Her expression shifts, concern pooling in her wide eyes, as if I’ve just declared the moon is made of cheese. It’s oddly touching, if totally unnecessary.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I grin, taking her hand in mine. “But I’ll show you later, okay?” I promise with a solemn nod, surprised by my own eagerness to prove I’m not some unhinged nut-job.

Movement on my shoulder steals my attention. Todd, my little chug bug, is stirring from his endless beauty sleep. No wonder he’s so ridiculously handsome.

“Ah, he wants to say hello,” I say, stroking his black-red, rubbery, segmented body. Todd stretches out his many skittering legs, his mandibles clicking softly like he’s trying to speak.

Sandra recoils, her face twisting in horror. “What the hell is that thing?” she demands, jabbing an accusatory finger at the lazily blinking Todd.

“ Thing ?” I scoff, aghast at her obvious lack of taste. “This is the super-cute Todd. Say hello, Todd.” I extend the wiggling, plump cyloillar toward her, which only heightens her disgust.

“Eww, keep it away!” Sandra protests, nearly stumbling off the stone dais in her haste to escape Todd’s undeniable cuteness. “It’s so bloody gross-looking!”

“He’s not gross! Don’t listen to the mean ginger lady.

” I coo, shielding where I imagine Todd’s ears might be.

“Did you ever stop to think how gross you might look to him? No? Didn’t think so.

” I ask incredulously, examining Todd with a critical eye.

But all I see is his large, gleaming black eye, reflecting my radiant face.

So handsome!

Sandra steps forward tentatively, her initial shock at Todd’s overwhelming magnificence fading. “He looks like a big, fat haggis with legs,” she presses her ridiculous claim with a narrowed gaze. “He’s not dangerous, is he?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” I reply with a quick laugh. “Well... unless you’re made of leaves… or berries.” I clutch Todd to my chest and sway dramatically. “Then this wee plumper will gobble you right up!”

Todd clacks his cute little mandibles in agreement, wiggling against me. Sandra, still unconvinced, slowly extends a tentative hand.

“Easy, you creepy bug,” she mutters, her fingertips barely brushing his segmented body like she’s afraid of catching something. “Eww, he feels like jelly!” She yanks her hand back as though Todd stung her.

“The feeling is mutual,” I laugh, watching Todd recoil in fright. His many legs blur into motion as he skitters to my shoulder.

It’s strange. I thought Sandra, of all people, would have found him adorable, like I do. But whatever, I kind of like that he’s loyal to me alone—more loyal than the real Todd ever was.

I grab some of the now cold Sock-Chair meat from my plate, ripping it into tiny pieces. “I hope he’ll eat this,” I mutter, offering the morsels, knowing it’s a slim chance. Todd’s mandibles tap the shreds of meat hesitantly, but the little scamp refuses to grab hold.

Vegetarian, just like Dracoth said.

“I’m going to have to find something he can eat while we’re stuck on that spaceship again,” I sigh, my concern growing.

“Are you taking him—” Sandra starts, but I cut her off with a raised hand.

Something’s happening.

A ripple of commotion spreads from the far end of the cavernous hall. The cheerful murmur of the crowd fades, replaced by hushed mutters. I can’t see over the towering Klendathians, their crimson heads all turned toward the disturbance.

“What is it?” I tug on Dracoth’s black leather tunic impatiently, knowing my towering pole of man meat can easily see over the masses.

His steely gaze remains locked ahead, his voice a low, warning growl.

“An Elder comes.”