VERONICA’S DRAGON

ICEHOME BOOK TWO

RUBY DIXON

WWW.RUBYDIXON.COM

VERONICA’S DRAGON

Resonance.

It’s a given on the ice planet, forced upon you by the parasitic symbiont called the ‘khui’. With resonance, a guy and a girl are paired up because they’ll make great babies. It’s a survival mechanism necessary for this sparsely-populated world we’re stranded on…and romantic, in a weird, alien way.

Everyone expects resonance to happen when twenty newcomers are dropped onto the frosty world. I doubt anyone expects the gorgeous, golden god named Ashtar to resonate to someone like me, though. He’s fierce. Flirty. Powerful. Disgustingly handsome.

I’m…not any of those things. I’m bland. Boring. Clumsy.

But resonance seems to think we’d be great together. And Ashtar does, too…

The Icehome series features all of the adventure, humor and community you’ve come to expect in the Ice Planet Barbarians series, but it stands on its own. You do not need to read the other series (or be caught up) in order to read VERONICA’S DRAGON. I do recommend reading LAUREN’S BARBARIAN to get the full experience. Enjoy!

Copyright © 2018 by Ruby Dixon

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Photo by: Sara Eirew Photographer

Cover by: Kati Wilde

Edits by: Aquila Editing

Created with Vellum

CONTENTS

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Lauren’s Barbarian

Ice Planet Barbarians

Cast of Characters

Want More?

Also by Ruby Dixon

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

Once upon a time, a group of human women were stolen from their homes on Earth and stranded by their alien captors on an ice planet. They were discovered by the natives (sa-khui, descendants of a blue-skinned race now called the mesakkah) and tended to. The humans were given a parasitic symbiont called a 'khui' (or a 'cootie' as most of the women joked) that has a dual purpose: to keep the host alive and healthy by helping them adapt to the harsh atmosphere, and to propagate the species. Anyone with a khui could be struck by 'resonance' at any time, when the khui in the chest vibrates and sings to let its host know that it has found its one true pairing. The couple would have the urge to breed a child, and the khui would keep urging them until pregnancy was accomplished. As resonance is considered a gift for the once-failing tribe of blue sa-khui aliens, they love and honor their human mates.

If you would like to read those stories, that is the Ice Planet Barbarians series.

Icehome takes place eight years later, when our village of humans and sa-khui are well established and full of happy families and many babies (so many babies). A slaver ship returned to the surface of the ice planet and was defeated by our tribe. The ship's hold was found to contain twenty slaves, all in stasis and waiting to be sold on one of the black markets in deep space. The sa-khui tribe decided to help those sixteen human women and four alien males acclimate to life on the ice planet.

And that is this story, and where we begin. :)

Note: There is clearly (clearly!) a lot of story that has gone on before and this is only the barest of summaries. That being said, Icehome is its own series and you do not have to read Ice Planet Barbarians in its entirety before trying these books out! As VERONICA'S DRAGON takes place on a parallel timeline with LAUREN'S BARBARIAN you'll gain a richer story by reading LAUREN'S BARBARIAN before this one, but I don't feel it's completely necessary. Veronica and Ashtar's love story is entirely contained in this book. Enjoy!

1

ASHTAR

When I awaken, a variety of smells assaults my senses. There are people everywhere, two different breeds of people. One smells a bit like mesakkah, but with an odd tang to it. The other I do not recognize at all…but I know that it is female.

Unmated female.

My nostrils flare and I open my eyes, sitting up.

Next to me, a pregnant female and her blue male—mesakkah male—hold their hands out, indicating I should wait. The female babbles something at me, and I ignore her, gazing at my surroundings. I expect to see another slave pen. As a gladiator, I have been sold to many different masters over the years and held in many different types of pens. This isn't a pen at all, I quickly realize, but a ship's cargo hold. Sunlight streams in off to one side, and I can smell fresh, cold air.

We have landed.

I swallow hard, flexing my neck, and I feel no collar there. Idiots. Do they not know that I could easily escape? I can just shift to my drakoni battle form and bolt out of here, faster than their puny legs can race after me. My wings are clipped, of course—courtesy of my first master—but I am still fast on four legs. And I can eat anyone that stands in my way.

I can do anything I want if I am not collared.

I test my psychic abilities, reaching out for familiar minds. My mental speech is limited while collared, but here, it is gloriously free. I'm able to send out a surge of greeting…except there is no answer. There are no other psychic minds here.

Which means I am the only drakoni.

As usual. At least there is no collar.

Of course, I am certain that collars are simply waiting nearby and that if I loiter long enough, one will be snapped around my neck once more. But there is time to escape. Mesakkah males are good fighters, if not the most imaginative, but in my drakoni form I could take down several if they are not armed with blasters or shockers.

But…I don't leave. Not yet. Because I smell a lot of females. Unmated ones. And so I wait. After all, another master is just another master.

But if they are going to give me a female…

I would stay for a female, I decide. Being chosen as a breeding slave is a great honor, in a way. It means you are valuable enough that they want more of you. It means you are the best of fighters, the strongest, the fiercest. I know I am all these things, but I have never been chosen for breeding before.

This is promising.

I sit up in my stasis cradle even as the female waves her hands in front of me and says something. Probably telling me to slow down, that the stasis cradle can cause nausea and weakness. I have heard it all before. I ignore her because she is already mated and holds no fascination for me…well, other than she is female. It is the closest I have ever been to one, but the tantalizing scents of the others nearby call me to come and investigate. One in particular has a scent that is incredibly appealing, and I'm curious to see who it belongs to.

I swing my legs over the side and hop out. The female and her male follow me, and I see several other mesakkah gathered nearby, holding spears—pfeh. As if those would do anything to a drakoni's scales. I ignore them, too, and the human female says something again, my implanted translator rolling it to Earth Human tongue before interpreting.

"—don't be alarmed because we're not here to hurt you," she says in a gentle voice.

Hurt me? That tiny human? I smile, showing my fangs, because the idea is amusing. I pat her on the head, ignoring the growl of her mate, and then stalk forward through the cargo bay, looking for the females they have provided me.

"Um, what's he doing?" says another female. A quick sniff tells me this one is also mated. Not interested.

"I think he's exploring? Doesn't seem dangerous yet, though," the first mated one says.

Not dangerous yet. It's as if they don't know who or what they've bought. Definitely fools. I let them walk behind me as I hunt through the crowd, though. There are a lot of males, so they must be keeping the females clustered together. I wonder if I get to pick or if they have already selected a fine breeder for me. I would rather pick, though if the one with the delicious scent is my chosen breeder, I would not object.

There, in the corner, are the females. Ahhhh. I drink in the sight of them, as it has been far too long since I was allowed this close to an unmated female. They are huddled together, blankets wrapped around their fragile bodies. All humans, it looks like. Interesting. Most humans are only bought as pleasure slaves and not for their hardiness in breeding. I expected to see a drakoni female here, perhaps another gladiator, because surely a purebred slave would bring in more credits.

I am not displeased, though. The humans are all of a breeding age and attractive in their way. There is a nice variety of colors and shapes, some with big bouncy breasts and some with strong, muscular legs. The ones closest to me smell pleasant enough, but they are all too piled together for me to determine which one is the one with the scent that tickles my nose with such joy.

"We should try to communicate with him," one of the mated females is saying behind me. A hand touches my arm and she gives me a look. "Weeeee mean youuuuu no harmmm," she enunciates, gesturing with her hands and then puts her palm out to me.

I look at her and then bat it aside. She does not interest me in the slightest. Instead, I fix my attention on the females. One in particular with a brown mane is gazing at my cock with an expression that can only be shocked interest. Ah, I like this one. So bold. I send a mental feeler to her, but it attaches to nothing. She is not psychic.

Not yet. But if I give her my fires, that changes everything.

I spread my arms wide and grin at her, letting her get a fine look at my naked form. "Shall you come claim me for yourself then, pretty one? Shall we battle?"

2

VERONICA

I  don't know which part of this day has been the most shocking. Is it waking up to find that I've been kidnapped by aliens only to be rescued again? Is it that I'm completely naked and barefoot despite my bone-chillingly cold surroundings? The big, blue, horned guys or the strange “ship” we find ourselves in?

Or is it the incredibly handsome, naked golden guy speaking to me and asking me to fight him while showing off his body?

I gape, hugging the fur blanket closer to my naked body as the golden god gestures at me. I suppose it's my own fault. I've been huddling with the other women, trying to conserve body heat and mentally trying to figure my bearings, when this gorgeous man shows up, practically strutting, and puts his hands on his hips, surveying us. And it's my own fault because I might have stared a little harder at his nakedness than I should have.

But, I mean, I'm only human. Guy's got obliques for days, and I'm a sucker for that sort of thing. It looks like the perfect spot for a woman to run her tongue. Not that I'd ever be bold enough to do such a thing…but a girl can dream. That's all it'd ever be, though. I'm not the kind of woman that guys pay attention to. I'm brown-haired, average height, weight, on the slight side with the boobs, and otherwise completely unremarkable. I'm not as smart as some, or as nice, or as funny. I'm just sort of there. I figured this out long ago when I landed in friend-zone after friend-zone. And I'm used to it by now.

Doesn't mean I can't sneak a peek at something impressive I'll never get to touch.

He notices me peeking, though. If anything, his cock stands a little taller and his grin gets wider at the sight of me looking. The guy's clearly alien and shameless.

The blonde from this planet—I think her name is Liz—moves forward and swats the golden guy on the arm. "You douche. You speak English?"

The guy shrugs, clearly not all that interested in Liz. He's too busy staring at me and grinning. It makes me wildly uncomfortable…and a little flattered, too, because gosh, when was the last time any guy paid attention to me? Much less a smoking hot one.

And despite his alien-ness, this guy is hot with a capital H. He's at least six and a half feet tall with a shock of bronze hair that reminds me a bit of a lion, or an anime character, right down to the horns peeping through. His eyes whirl with a variety of colors, pupilless but still somehow warm and appealing. Right now as he looks at me, they're whirling a darker gold than his skin. His features are strong, with high cheekbones and the most gorgeously full mouth I've ever seen on a man. As he crosses his arms over his brawny chest, I can't help but notice that his skin is dappled in a scaly pattern, and when he flexes, there are spikes jutting along the underside of each corded arm.

"Jesus Christ. Put that thing away!" The girl I'm sitting next to, Hannah, puts a hand up, shielding her eyes from the bronze god's nakedness.

He doesn't, though. He's still staring at me as if waiting for something. Self-conscious, I clear my throat and gather my blanket tight around me and get to my feet. Or I try to, but my foot's caught under the hem of the blanket and I accidentally fling it to the floor when I step forward. I make this horrible squawking noise in my throat—like a startled chicken—and snatch it back up again, but it's too late.

Golden Boy has now officially seen my boobies.

"Excuse me," Liz hisses at him, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "I'm talking to you."

He glances over at her dismissively. "Why should I speak to you? I am not interested." He points at me. "I like that one. I will take her."

I stand completely still, shocked. "Um, what?"

"No one's getting divvied up!" Liz says. "At least, not until the cootie decides."

"Um WHAT?" Hannah demands.

"Long story," Liz says, putting her hands up. "Remember the parasite thing? The whole resonance thing?"

Hannah calms down. "Right. Still trying to remember that." She rubs her forehead.

I know how she feels. Even though it made total sense when the others explained it, I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around the whole “fated mate” thing. That some parasitic worm thing is going to decide who I should marry. Though, to be honest, I doubt I'll get chosen anytime soon. It looks like there's only a few guys to the bunches of women, and I'm not at the top of the chart.

Well, except for Golden Boy, but I'm pretty sure he's either delusional or trying to embarrass me.

I clutch my blankets and move carefully to stand behind a few of the other, taller women just so I can break eye contact with the alien that's singled me out.

"No one's claiming anyone," Liz says. "Once all of the guys have been woken up, we'll go over the whole song and dance with you, too. In the meantime, go sit down next to your red buddy over there, and for god's sake, do not touch any of the women. Got it?" She waves a hand at his erect dick, which looks larger than any dick I've ever seen—and has a line of ridges across the top. "And put that thing away."

A blue alien moves forward with a blanket, offering it to Golden Boy. He studies it, then scans the audience for me. I duck behind one of the ladies so he can't see me, then peer back over her shoulder after a moment to see if he's still watching. "I do not understand," Golden Boy says in perfect—if accented—English. "Am I not here to breed fine slaves with your females?"

I suck in a breath at that. He wants to freaking breed with me? Saliva gets caught in my windpipe and I end up coughing and choking on my own air. Someone thumps me hard on the back—which makes me drop my blanket again.

"Um, newwwwp," Liz says. She looks over at one of the blue aliens. "I'm gonna need you to take this one, chief. I'm out." She wades in amongst the women, finds me wrapping my blanket around my body again, and points. "And no one let him near this one. What's your name again, honey?"

"Veronica," I say between coughing and try to wave. "Hi."

"Right. Everyone, let's keep Bachelor Number One away from Bachelorette Number Two here." She pats me on my naked shoulder and glances back at the blue alien she was speaking with. "Vektal, you have guy duty. Ladies, I'm going to need everyone to crowd around so we can get you some clothing. We brought extra tunics and pants, but since there's no Walmart around here, sizing is gonna be a fun adventure."

"Yippee," says one of the plump girls whose name I don't recall.

I move along as Liz keeps a hand on my shoulder, dragging me forward. I can't help but glance backward at Golden Boy, though. He's still watching me, his eyes whirling darker, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look deterred in the slightest by the alien who grabs his arm and leads him away.

And I feel a little shiver of apprehension or excitement—I'm not sure which—in my belly.

3

ASHTAR

I  am the only drakoni gladiator that is in our group. Of all the slaves, there are the sixteen female humans, two a'ani gladiators, and a bestial male I have never seen the like of before and must be tied down lest he attack. He snarls and rages, and the two a'ani are silently mistrusting.

Me, I just want to know when I can see the females again. Well, not all of them. Just the one I have decided is mine. They have been taken off to another chamber and we are forced to sit here with the one called Vektal while he tries to explain our situation. I listen absently, making note of the big details. Khui for survival. Ice-world. No rescue. Freedom from slavery. That last part I will have trouble believing. Slavers are one of the few sureties in life. When he mentions the females, though, I pay attention.

"Your khui, it will select a female for you, one that will be your perfect mate," Vektal says.

I sit up straighter, and I notice the other males are paying more attention, too. If they are gladiators like me, they have never been around females, either, unless given one as a prize.

Vektal taps a hand to the center of his plated chest. "You will resonate here. It will fill you with intense hunger for the female and it will want you to mate immediately. She will be your female and the only one you will ever want. When you resonate to each other, you will give her a kit." He hesitates, then frowns. "Do I need to explain to you how a male puts a kit in a female?"

I rub my chin and lean forward. "Tell us more about the females and this resonance. Do we choose the female?"

"No. But it does not matter. The khui always chooses."

One of the red a'ani shifts impatiently, glancing at the room that the females have disappeared into. "One of them has a kit inside her already. Where is her mate?"

"She has none."

"Then you lie?" The a'ani looks insulted.

Vektal shakes his head. "She was given a kit before she came here. I am told by the other humans that this does not mean she has a mate yet. The khui will decide."

"If she does not have a mate, then I want her," the a'ani declares.

The other frowns. "I want her."

"If we are claiming females, the clumsy one is mine," I say quickly. "If another male so much as looks at her, I will rip his throat out with my fangs." And I display them just so they know I am not joking.

The beast-male just growls furiously, as if he needs to declare his territory as well.

"No," Vektal says, raising a hand in frustration. "No one is claiming females. They get to decide for themselves!"

"But you just said—"

The mesakkah—or sa-khui as they call themselves here—raises both hands, his jaw clenched. "You do not listen. The females can do as they please. If they wish to take a pleasure-mate amongst you, they can. But it will be temporary, because if the khui resonates, a mate will be chosen."

"And then we claim our females," I declare proudly. I like this planet so far.

"No, then you must wait for the female to give you permission to claim her."

"But you said the khui chooses," the a'ani begins again, rubbing his jaw. "So both the khui and the female must choose?"

"It is complicated," Vektal agrees. "But human females are very complicated creatures. They do not like to listen to what they are told, as well I know. My mate is human."

"Which one?" I demand to know, my possessiveness flaring. I can feel my eyes go black. "Not the clumsy one with the brown hair?"

"She is not here. She is back in our village."

I relax. "So my female is unclaimed, then."

"She is not yours."

"Not yet," I tell him confidently. "She will want me. Am I not strong and appealing?" I gesture at myself.

Vektal's mouth twists. "You have not met many human females, I see. As I said, they are complicated creatures. You will learn."

"Then you will not keep us separated from them?" One of the a'ani sits up, red body stiff with alertness.

I watch the blue sa-khui warily. I am curious about this question as well.

"As long as you are not violent to them, I see no reason not to."

The two a'ani exchange a look. I mull this as well. It sounds like more freedom than any slave pen has ever given in the past. "So we are not to mate with them without permission."

"No," Vektal says. His tail flicks and I can tell he does not even like that we bring it up. Near him, the beast-creature just snarls his displeasure and struggles in his bonds. If he knows how to speak, he does not indicate it. I do not care about him at all, save that his bad behavior might cause us to be separated from the females.

So I ask more questions. "What if the females invite us to mate them?"

"Then you may mate them." He rubs his brow.

"What if…" one of the a'ani begins, sitting up straighter. "What if one trips and falls and lands upon my cock? Can I mate her if she is on me?"

This seems like a valid question. I look at the leader.

For some reason, he has both of his hands over his face. "No," he says flatly. "No one will trip and fall upon your cock."

"They might," I add. "You never know." I think of the clumsy one who dropped her blanket and revealed her breasts and belly. In my mind's eye, I see her bending over to pick something up, her rounded, strangely pale buttocks in the air. My cock stirs with excitement and I send out another mental pulse, trying to connect to her. I am disappointed when I contact nothing again.

"No, they will not," Vektal says again. "Because you are going to be wearing clothing."

"Bah," I say, hating the idea already. "Only a fool wears something that can have him grabbed by an opponent in the arena." One of the a'ani nods agreement.

"You are not in ree-nah, whatever that is." Vektal stabs a finger at the ground. "You are here in my tribe, and you will wear at least a loincloth, so I do not want to see anyone tripping and falling on females!"

"Bah," I say again. "How are we supposed to find out if they wish to mate, then? I do not know a human's mating battles."

"She will tell you."

Interesting. "Is that all it takes?"

"For some. This is very new to them, though. You must be patient. The khui will choose, and then you will understand. Until then, you must be patient." Vektal gets to his feet. "And now we will get you clothing."

Patience. Clothing. I suppose I can do these things if it will get me the brown-haired female with the big, watchful eyes. I can be patient. I can wear clothes if I must.

4

VERONICA

I t has been the longest day. I bunk down next to Hannah and Bridget, and they immediately snuggle closer to me, trying to share warmth. I'm wearing a fur-lined tunic, leggings, fur-lined boots, and have two blankets over me and I still feel like a brick of ice. This planet is incredibly cold and we're lying on what feels like metal flooring, which doesn't help. My teeth chatter and I try to burrow deeper under the blankets.

"Why couldn't we have been dropped off on a beach planet instead of a damn ice planet?" Hannah gripes, shifting in her bunk. "Better yet, why don't they turn the heat on in this ship?"

"You heard what they said, Hann," Bridget says, and blows on her hands. "If they use too much power it sends up a fuel signature or something."

Right. Because the blue guys have decided that we are going to take the ship to the nearest beach and dump it so no one can track down their village and enslave them. I get it, but I can't help but feel a tiny, tiny stab of resentment that no one says, "Why don't we just fly these newcomers home?" They explained why, but it doesn't mean I don't wish there was a different option.

I can feel Bridget tremble next to me. "What I don't get is why these blue guys are wandering around in loincloths."

"Maybe they don't f-feel the c-cold," I say between chattering teeth. "They're n-nice at least." And they are. Everyone's been the epitome of friendly and understanding, even when Hannah resorts to bitchiness because she's scared and a girl named Marisol tries to run away and hide. Even when some of the girls cry over the smallest things. Even when I drop a boot three times in a row because I'm so distracted that my klutziness is kicking in, and the third time I accidentally dropped it in the fire. No one gets mad. Everyone is nice and friendly and understanding.

It makes me feel bad that I freaking hate this place.

Because I do. I hate it here. It's cold and terrible and full of strangers and I feel so stupidly helpless. We've stayed inside the ship's berth for most of the day, getting information dumped on us by the blue guys and their human wives, but I took a quick peek outside when one of the blue guys wandered out. What I saw out there utterly terrified me—endless hills of white snow, distant white-capped mountains and gray skies. The air is cold inside the ship, but outside it's so damn cold that it feels like it's freezing in my lungs.

I can't imagine anyone living in that, much less wandering around in a breechcloth. But every time one of the others has brushed my hand to give me something, I've been struck at how incredibly hot their body temperature is. The big blue aliens don't need much clothing, but their human wives wear jackets and warm clothing. They promise that the cold won't be nearly as bothersome once we get our parasites.

Something to look forward to, I guess.

Tonight, I'm really freaking looking forward to it because I can't seem to get warm no matter what. I tuck my hands into my furry sleeves and pull my blanket up to my nose so my breath will catch under it, but I still can't get warm. It's going to be a long, awful wait for my parasite. Never thought I'd hear myself say that.

Still, I'm pretty tired and mentally drained from the day. Despite the never-ending clack of my teeth, the nearby fire offers a pleasant crackle and everyone else has bedded down, ready to end the day. I'm able to drift off toward sleep…almost.

"Hello females," a voice whispers loudly from nearby. It's a man.

I sit up, rubbing at my eyes and squinting in the dark. Someone squats nearby, but the eyes aren't glowing. One of the new guys, then. At my side, Bridget snorts awake and then moans. "Oh my god, I was dreaming I was back home. Why'd you assholes wake me up?"

"I wish to say hello to my female," the man says again, as if she addressed him. I can just barely make out golden skin and a puff of hair. I know who that is, and my cheeks burn with awkward embarrassment.

"Uh, what?" Now Hannah's awake and I can vaguely see her glaring into the dark. "Your female?"

"Not you," he says, and Hannah makes a sound of outrage. He clarifies a moment later. "The one with the noisy teeth."

I groan and pull my blankets over my head again. Does he think this is funny? "Go away."

"Did I say something wrong? I wished to learn your name." He sounds confused, like he doesn't understand why I'm not slobbering all over his feet.

"I'm Bridget," the girl next to me says with a yawn.

"Not you," he says again.

She only giggles and pokes me in the side, as if all of this is wildly amusing.

"Veronica," I mutter under the blankets, not peering out. I'm not going to look at him. I'm not. He'll just try to dazzle me with his good looks and then say something that will make it all painfully obvious that he's just having a good time at my expense. I've had men do that before. Well, boys anyhow. They pretend like they're in love with you and then brag to their buddies what an easy lay you are because you're desperate. Been there, done that, no thanks.

"Veronica," he murmurs thoughtfully. "I like it. It is a fine name."

I pull the covers down from my face, just a smidge. He's the first alien to say my name correctly. Most of the blue guys call me Ron-ka or Vuh-ron-ca or something equally mangled. It's like I've got too many syllables, so it's just too bad for me. But the fact that he pronounced my name correctly means he's trying. It's nice. I…guess I can be nice, too. "What's yours?"

"I am called Ashtar of the Drakoni, Three Time Champion of Praix XXIII."

"Um, all that?"

"Well, you may call me Ashtar." He sidles a bit closer, until he's practically stepping on Bridget in his eagerness to get to me and talk. "I like your smell."

Hannah groans with disgust and gets to her feet, picking up her blankets. "I'm going to go and sleep next to Nadine or Tia."

She leaves, and I notice someone else moving around in the background, this one with glowing eyes. He moves nearer to the fire, and a long, messy braid slides over one shoulder. I think I remember that guy. Zo…Zo-something. He's watching Ashtar closely, and that makes me feel a little better. Not that I think Ashtar would hurt me, but it was made clear to me long ago that I'm a terrible judge of men.

"Nice to meet you, Ashtar," I whisper. I'm still a little mortified by the whole “smell” thing, but maybe that's a greeting among his people and I'm misconstruing things.

He moves in just a little closer. "Do you want me to mate you, Veronica?"

Bridget chokes and gets up, moving her bedding away as far as possible. My cheeks heat and I want to crawl back under the covers and just die. "No. Just go away."

"I cannot mate you without permission, the chief says. Do you give me permission?"

I pull the covers back and glare at him. "What? No! Still no! A hundred times no!"

He rubs his chin in the dark and sighs heavily. "I am doing this wrong, am I not? You are the first female I have ever met. I do not know how to talk to you."

I prop up on my elbows, surprised at this admission. "You what? I'm the first girl you've ever met?"

"Yes."

"But you met the others. You talked to Liz and Harlow—"

"Bah. They do not count."

Well now, I feel oddly flattered. "Pro tip for you, then, buddy—you don't go up to women and tell them you want to mate them. That's not how it works."

"I am being patient, though. I'm wearing a loincloth and asking."

I smack a hand to my forehead. For some reason, I feel the urge to giggle. Nearby, someone else snicker-snorts under their blankets and I remember that we're surrounded by people. Bridget is literally three feet away on my other side, and Zo-whatever-his-name is glaring at both of us from by the fire. I'm about as safe as a girl can be. "You've really got to work on your playbook, Ashtar."

"Playbook. I do not know this word." He continues to rub his jaw.

That's another thing that's throwing me off. "How do you know any of our words?"

"I was given a translation chip by my first master. It is much easier to have a slave follow directions when they understand you." Amusement colors his tone.

I feel a twinge of sympathy. "You were a slave?"

"Oh, many times over. You were not?"

"No, this is my first roundabout with…all this." I wave a hand at the frigid air.

"Ah. I am a slave many times over. They took me from my planet before I even had my fire ceremony."

"Shhhhh," someone calls nearby. "Trying to sleep."

I grimace. "Sorry," I call out and try to pull the blankets up, lying back down to end the conversation. "Go to sleep, Ashtar."

"But I wish to talk."

"We can talk tomorrow." Anything to get him to stop paying attention to me.

It goes quiet and I keep my eyes closed, determined not to look over in case he's still there. Of course, the moment I have nothing to focus on but the fact that I'm freezing to death, my teeth start to chatter again. My entire body quakes with a shivering I can't control, and it's so miserable I want to cry, except I'm pretty sure my tears would freeze on my lashes.

"You are cold?" Ashtar's voice booms out in the silence, indignant.

"Shhh," someone else calls.

"For fuck's sake, go to sleep!" Liz bellows off to one side of the room.

I rub a hand over my face, wondering what it'll take to get Ashtar to leave me alone. "Yes, I'm cold. Please go to sleep, all right?"

"I am not cold. Drakoni are very warm. Here, touch my hand."

I open my eyes and in the next moment, there's a big hand in front of my face. He's now crouching near my shoulder, and I stare up at the clawed fingers. His hand is huge, but his nails are like talons. That's…alarming. I give him a quick touch so he'll go away—

And then gasp because it's like touching a space heater. "Oh my god, you ARE warm."

"I am," he agrees smugly. "Shall I lie down with you and share my warmth?"

I hesitate. I'm torn. So torn. On one hand, I wish he'd go away because all of this attention is making me extremely uncomfortable. On the other hand, he's really freaking warm and we're in a room piled full of people. Surely…surely that'd be safe?

"I'll sleep next to you if you're warm," Bridget calls out from my other side and pats the floor. "Come on over, hot stuff."

"Not you—" he begins.

I grab his hand to get his attention. "Wait, you can sleep between me and Bridget." That's the ultimate in safety, right? Everyone's warm and no one's cuddling alone under a blanket with a stranger.

He considers this for a moment, not pulling his hand away. "This pleases you?"

"Absolutely."

Ashtar grunts and moves between us, lying down. Bridget immediately tosses a blanket over him, and I feel weirdly jealous of that small move until he holds up one side, indicating I should join them. I slide over.

Before I can even get under the covers, Zo-whatever is there, crouching near our heads and glaring at Ashtar. "You need to leave the females alone, golden one."

"It's okay," I say quickly. "We're just sharing body warmth. Nothing sexy."

"We are not mating yet," Ashtar reassures him loudly. "I am wearing a loincloth."

Several people snicker at that and I feel like falling through the floor all over again. The blue alien looks at me with a slight frown on his mouth, and for some reason, I'm reminded of my dad and the times he met my high school boyfriends. "He is not bothering you, Ron-ka?"

"Nope. It's all good." I put a hand on Ashtar's shoulder to pat him, and then I want to crawl all over the man, because god, he really is warm.

The blue alien grunts and gets back to his feet, returning to the fire. Ashtar loops one arm around me and says nothing, but my teeth stop chattering and I feel so much better already.

"Jesus, if she doesn't want to mate with you, I will," Bridget mutters. "Just stay under this blanket."

I reach out to smack her hand in the dark.

5

ASHTAR

I  wake up the next morning in a good mood and touch my neck. No slave collar rests there. I send out a bolt of mental speech, and though it is not received, it does not blind me with pain to do so. No one is blocking me anymore. Maybe I am as free as they have said. In my arms, the small, brown-haired human female burrows against my warmth, pressing cold, small fingers against my skin and sleeping soundly. Her friend snores against my back. I do not care about the friend, though.

I care about Veronica.

I stroke the waves of brown hair back from her face. Her scent touches my nostrils, heady and sweet. There is no arousal there—not yet—but there is no fear either. I asked her to battle me, but she seemed embarrassed. A drakoni woman would send me away or receive my attentions. I think. It has been so long since I have been around other drakoni I don't recall all of our customs. But I do remember how very fierce my mother was when she wanted my father, and that they would take to the air in a furious battle and then disappear, only to return a short while later, limbs twined around each other in the aftermath of pleasure.

But Veronica won't be flying in battle with me. I do not know a lot about humans, but I have seen enough alien species to know that there are many that cannot shift forms as I do. If they could, surely they would have flown out of this ship instead of letting the mesakkah—sa-khui—drive it along the ground.

So. My human will not be able to battle me. I will need to learn the human mating customs, then. I stroke her hair back from her face and wonder what it takes to entice a female human into mating. Perhaps I can ask one of the other male aliens who has a human mate. I glance over at the fire, and one of the blue sa-khui is glaring at me from afar, as if he doesn't approve of my touching the human.

Foolish one. As if I would harm her. Out of all the females here, Veronica's scent calls to me like nothing ever has before. She could be my mate, this one. I've never been so fascinated with a scent. I don't plan on letting her go. A drakoni with his mate is the most protective of beings.

I'll shift forms and snap the head off of anyone that so much as tries to touch her.

The protectiveness surges inside me, and I bare my fangs at the male near the fire, letting him know my displeasure, even as I tighten my arms around Veronica.

She lifts her head suddenly, banging the top of her skull into my chin. I groan, falling backward even as she howls in pain and rolls away. "My head!"

"Are you all right?" I reach for her, only to be pushed aside by the blue warrior who helps Veronica to her feet.

Veronica moans and holds onto him, rubbing her head, and it takes everything I have not to snatch her from his arms. I bare my teeth, scowling as he leads her toward the fire and makes her sit down. "Here. Eat," he says in the human tongue, and pushes food into her hand. "It will be a long day today." He straightens and looks over at me for a long moment, warning in his eyes, before he moves to the other female who slept next to me. I forget her name. Breedit or some such. She lets the blue alien help her to her feet and he moves her next to the fire as well. "Sit. Eat."

I get to my feet, adjusting the annoying loincloth that feels tight in all the wrong places. I take a step forward, only to have the blue alien shake his head at me. "Go and find the other males," he tells me.

"I want to sit with my female—"

The alien stands in front of her and crosses his arms. Another comes to his side and does the same, and then I am staring down two of them.

Rage blisters through me and I can feel my eyes going black with anger. They think they will keep my female from me? My mate? I can feel the fire forming in my chest, like a hot coal, and I curl my claws. They do not know what they are doing, these fools. I can tear them limb from limb and char the ashes before they will have a chance to draw their puny spears. They—

Veronica is watching me from beside the fire. Her eyes go wide and she stares at me. I can smell her fear-scent touch the air. She looks uncertainly at the blue aliens, then at me, and hunches her shoulders ever so slightly, as if trying to make herself smaller.

And that makes the anger fade out of me. My eyes bleed back to a calmer shade and I straighten. I want Veronica at my side…but not if I am scaring her. She does not have my fires yet. I send a mental surge to her, but there is no response.

Patience, I tell myself. I must be patient until I can give her my fires. Unfortunately, patience is not a thing drakoni are good at. We are excellent at fighting and raging…not with patience. But Veronica is important, so I clench my jaw and stalk away to find the other gladiator males.

Maybe one of them will feel like sparring.

6

VERONICA

I  try to eat a bite of the jerky-kibble, but it falls from my lips and into the fire as Ashtar storms away. Dude looks pissed. My head still smarts from where I cracked it against his jaw, and I rub it absently, getting crumbs in my hair. I wonder if I should go after him. He gave me the most heart-wrenching look before striding away, and I feel a little guilty, as if I'm somehow responsible for his bad mood.

One of the blue guys sits down next to me and offers his waterskin. "Drink."

"Um, okay." I take it and have a tiny sip. I guess now isn't the time to talk about hygiene or sharing. Maybe it's not a concern on a primitive planet. "Thank you."

"Is the gold one bothering you?" He gives me a steady look. "Say the word and I will ensure he does not come near you again."

"No, he was nice." I hand back the waterskin. "He liked my smell." I opt not to tell this guy about the whole “want to mate” conversation we had. "I think he's just trying to be friendly."

The alien grunts as if he doesn't quite believe that and passes the waterskin to Bridget. "I am a father and a hunter both, and when he says he only wishes to be friendly, I do not believe such words."

"What did you say your name was again?" I ask politely. I remember this guy from yesterday, with the messy braid and the paternal frown on his face.

"I am called Zolaya." He stirs the fire. "And you are Ron-ka and she is Bree-shit."

At my side, Bridget coughs on her jerky. "Bridge-IT. Jesus Christ."

"Bree-shit," he agrees again, as if his pronunciation is fine.

I do my best not to laugh, but it's hard. "So, you have kids, Zolaya?"

"I have a son, and my mate, Air-ee, is carrying our second kit." His expression softens, and I see a hint of wistfulness in his glowing eyes. "They are back at our village." He looks at me. "Which is where I should be. But since I am here, I am going to make sure the unmated males do not bother you. You and Bree-shit will be as my own kits."

"Bridget, dammit," the girl next to me exclaims.

"That's very nice," I choke out, determined not to look at Bridget or I'm going to laugh.

He nods solemnly. "Simply come find me if you feel unsafe. He may be another hunter, but I will plant a spear in his tailless hide if he tries to hurt you." He pats me on the shoulder and then goes off to find others.

And I'm left with breakfast and wondering what Ashtar truly wants after all. Zolaya is convinced that he's got something up his sleeve. But what? There are much prettier girls here. Unless…he thinks I'm an easy lay. Suddenly the breakfast in my mouth tastes like char and I close the pouch.

I DON'T SEE Ashtar again until we're herded out of the ship itself for the big “hunt” that will get us our cooties. There's a creature with a name that sounds like gargling that will apparently have all the cooties we need, and so most of the hunters race off to bring it down, while Liz, Harlow, Farli and two of the guys herd all of us down the ramp. Someone carries the struggling, snarling beast-man over his shoulder, but everyone else walks. I'm a little mystified when Ashtar heads to the front of the group and strides ahead, scanning the horizon. He's not paying a bit of attention to me.

I shouldn't care. I shouldn't. But for a brief shining moment, it was nice to be the center of attention, even if it embarrassed the crap out of me. I guess Ashtar switched gears and isn't all that interested in me. To take my mind off the bitter cold and the knee-deep snow we're wading through to get to the hunting grounds, I study my fellow humans to see who might be a likely candidate for his attentions.

Of all the girls, I think Samantha is the prettiest. Maybe Callie or Devi, but Devi is an absolute chatterbox and I don't see Ashtar liking that. The girl called Lauren has brown hair like me and squints a lot, as if she can't see, so I'm guessing not her. Marisol's too cowardly. Hannah's bossy and I already know he doesn't like her. Angie's pregnant. Willa's pretty in a blonde, freckled sort of way. Maybe her. Or Nadine, who has the most gorgeous dark skin and a beautifully full mouth. I could see him going after her. Tia's really pretty, too, but she's also a few years younger than the rest of us and the thought of someone creeping on her makes me uncomfortable. Penny's pretty, though. Flordeliza, too, though I tell myself she's far too tiny for him to like. Raven's tall and slim (and blonde, despite her name), and Steph's less pretty but has an amazing curvy figure that would make Marilyn Monroe envious. Maybe Bridget. I look over at my friend. Her hair's dark and her skin's that golden color that speaks of mixed ethnicity, but her eyes are a gorgeous hazel. She really is pretty.

And he let her sleep curled up next to him last night despite the whole “not you” thing. Definitely a candidate.

Stack-ranking my fellow humans makes me feel like a jerk, though, and my self-esteem feels like it just took a beating. Really, all the girls here are better choices than me. Like Devi. Yes, she talks up a storm—she's talking even now—but she's got the most amazing long, silky hair and she's incredibly smart. If we're just going on appearances, her tits are better than mine, too.

I don't fall anywhere at the top of the rankings no matter how you look at it—personality, appearance, sex appeal…I'm solidly in the back of the pack in each one.

That's depressing.

We trudge on, and just when I think I can't take another step (back of the pack on stamina, too, it seems), we're there. Off in the distance, the blue aliens fling themselves at an enormous, spindly-legged furball of a creature that's bellowing and bleeding everywhere. I wince and wrinkle my nose, doing my best not to look as everyone gathers under a nearby cluster of trees and waits.

"Did you see that thing?" Bridget whispers, pushing past me. "I want to get a better look."

"I'll stay back here," I tell her, swallowing hard. There's a lot of blood and I'm not sure I want to see more of it spilled. I cross my arms over my chest, tucking my gloves under each armpit to warm my fingers. My breath puffs like a smokestack out in the air, and I shift back and forth on each foot impatiently. Did I think it was cold yesterday? It's a frost-bitten hell today.

At least I'm not the only cold one. Liz and the other “guides” are keeping an eye on the hunting and everyone else mills around, bitching about the weather.

"Do you need warming?" a familiar voice says, so close to my ear that I feel hot breath fan over my hair.

I gasp in surprise, jerking away and nearly stumbling into the person standing in front of me. A hand snags me before I can topple over, and I give Ashtar a grimace. "Sorry. I seem to be falling over a lot lately."

"Then it is lucky I am here to catch you." He helps me stand upright. "Are you cold?"

"Isn't everyone?" I gesture at my fellow humans, and everyone's doing the foot-stomping dance in the snow to try and generate heat. No one's looking at us, though. At some point I fell to the back of the group and the creature up ahead bellowing its death throes has everyone's attention.

Everyone except me, that is. Because I'm too busy trying to sneak a peek at the golden god that's appeared at my side. Even though I've told myself that I need to be less fixated on the guy, I'm flattered he's shown up to say hello. As I watch, he shrugs off his outer layer of furs and tugs it over my shoulders. Ashtar studies me for a moment. "Shall I put my hands on you?"

"Pardon?" I squeak.

"For warmth?"

Right. Warmth. That's certainly what I'm thinking about. "No, I'm okay. I swear." Well, okay-ish. I'm not an icicle yet, but I'm sure I will be, given time. "So, uh, what do you think of all this?"

"Of this place?" He snorts and puts his hands on his hips, surveying the area with that arrogant stance I'm starting to attribute as just part of who he is. "It is worse than a week in the sands of Sehiv, and I thought that place was bad." He shakes his head. "But if there are no slavers here, then I suppose there are worse places." He glances over at me. "You?"

"Yeah, uh, same." When he mentions slavers, I feel kind of like a baby whining about a bit of cold. I've completely forgotten that we were kidnapped from Earth to be used as sex slaves. Suddenly, all this snow looks a hell of a lot more appealing. "We're lucky, aren't we?"

"I feel lucky." He grins at me, displaying sharp fangs, and a little quiver races through me at the sight of that. His eyes are whirling a deep, intense gold and he cocks his head, studying me. His eyes narrow as if he's concentrating.

For some reason, I feel a sharp pain in my head, like the onset of a migraine. It flashes away as quickly as it appeared, and I wince, rubbing my brow with cold fingers.

Ashtar's eyes widen. "Can you hear me?"

"Hear what?"

He frowns, an absent look on his face. "Nothing. Merely a wish."

Before I can ask what he means by that, there's a bellowing cry in the distance.

"That's our cue," Liz calls out. "Everyone step up! Time to get your cootie."

I surge forward, nearly falling forward again. This deep snow is messing me up, hard. As if expecting this, Ashtar snags me by the arm. "Let me help."

I nod and let him put his arm around my waist. It must be awkward for him, because he's a lot taller than me, but he doesn't protest. If anything, he looks pleased as punch.

SOME TIME LATER

A HUMMING SOUND wakes me out of my sleep. I yawn, rubbing my ear and rolling over. Stupid alarm. I want to go back to sleep.

Snow crunches under my cheek and that makes me open my eyes. Huh? A second later, it all comes surging back. Ice planet. Aliens. Kidnapping.

Bronze god o' love.

I put a hand to my throat, remembering the cut placed there. It feels like only moments ago that I watched someone put a wriggling, glowing worm up against my skin. Then…nothing. I woke up here and I'm shivering so hard that my entire body is shaking.

I roll onto my back, rubbing my eyes. It's quiet, the distant crackle of a fire nearby the only noise other than my loud shuddering. I blow on my hand to warm it, but to my surprise…it doesn't feel cold. Not like before. That's odd. I open and shut my mouth a few times, testing it, but my teeth aren't chattering. The snow under my body feels a little chilly, but not unpleasant.

Certainly not unpleasant enough to make my entire body hum with shivers. I put a hand to my chest, since it's where the humming is originating from. Wait. I'm not shivering.

Oh no.

What was it the others said about the cootie? That it'd pick a mate for me and we'd have to make babies? That I'd…resonate? That's the word. I think I must be resonating, because now that I'm becoming more alert, it's less of a shudder in my body and more of a reverberation. A song, I guess, if you're into drum beats and humming.

But who am I humming to?

I sit upright slowly, blinking at the encampment. The other girls are still laid out, unconscious. All seems to be quiet. A few of the blue guys pace distantly, watching over the campsite. I eye them with worry. One of those guys? But it can't be—they all have mates already.

Snow crunches nearby. I turn and look over my shoulder. There's Ashtar. His eyes shine a fierce blue for a moment before gold surges into them and fights for dominance. It flicks back and forth, as if internally warring. He's wearing nothing but a loincloth again and crouches down next to me.

As he does, I notice he's humming.

"Oh no," I moan.

The expression on his face can only be called “utterly delighted.” "Oh yes."

7

ASHTAR

I  knew it. The moment I scented Veronica, I knew she was mine. That I resonate for her is only logical. If it is my khui that chooses, it knows what I want—and I want her. I wait for her to show me her battle form, but she does not. I have forgotten—human females have no battle form. Perhaps we just go straight to the mating, then. With a fierce growl of pleasure as I look into her eyes, I strip off my loincloth and bend down over her.

"Wait," Veronica says, breathless with shock. Her eyes—blue and glowing with the light of her khui—go wide. It doesn't matter what color they are, because I like her no matter what. But now that we resonate, I find her even more appealing. Her scent is like nothing I have ever experienced before, and I can smell the arousal blooming between the folds of her cunt as she gazes up at me.

No waiting is needed. She is mine. She knows that just as her khui knows it. I will make this so good for her that she will brag to all the others about her virile mate. "Come, my fires," I purr to her as I get down on my knees. "On your belly so I can mount you properly—"

Someone tackles me from behind. With a snarl, I fling the warrior—for it must be one of the blue sa-khui—off my back and move to shield my mate from their attacks. A swift moment later, another tackles me. Then another. I am pushed to the ground beneath three big sa-khui males, their weight pinning me to the ground. Still, I struggle to get up. "If you do not let me up in this next moment," I warn ominously, "it will go badly for you."

I can shift to my drakoni battle form at any moment and tear them limb from limb. The idea of doing that is incredibly appealing, and I want to show off for my female. I glance over at her—

And stop.

Veronica's eyes are wide with fear. Her mating scent is still there, but fear-scent is seeping in. She scuttles backward, collapsing onto the snow. Another female comes to her side—the ferocious Liz—and puts an arm around Veronica's shoulders, frowning at me as if I have done something wrong.

Perhaps I have. They said I could mate when I resonated…but they also said it was complicated. I see what they mean now. I do not like the way my mate is looking at me in this moment, and I feel shame that I have frightened her. I need to learn more about females. Even though my cock is throbbing with need and my khui is telling me to mate, I will not frighten her.

So I raise a hand to indicate I am done struggling. "I will stop."

A blue hand shoves a loincloth under my nose. "Put this back on. "

I take it and stand, and as I do, I see Liz help Veronica to her feet. As I watch, she puts a protective arm around my mate, glares at me, and leads my mate toward the fire, where Harlow and her mate are sitting. Scowling to myself, I put the loincloth back on and tie it, then rub at my chest where the khui thrums and thrums.

A hand claps me on the shoulder. I immediately stiffen, my battle senses rearing. But when I turn, it is only one of the blue males, smiling broadly at me. "Come. Let us take a walk, you and I."

"Why?"

The smile does not waver from his face. "Because your mate needs time to talk to other females to figure out her thoughts, and I thought you might appreciate talking to other males." He gestures at another, a big hulking blue who has an easy grin. "I am Salukh. This is Hassen. We are both mated and can give you advice on how human females act, if you like. You look as if you could use a friend."

I hesitate for a moment. In the slave pits, other males never worked together save to bring down a rival. I have never had a “friend” or felt the need for one.

But I do wish to know more about human females. "Very well." I glance back toward the fire.

Hassen puts a hand on my other shoulder. "We will not go far."

I stab at them angrily with my thoughts, but when they simply blink at me, waiting, I sigh. "Fine. Speak to me of your mates."

The one called Salukh offers me a pair of boots and then waits as I shove them onto my feet. My foot-claws dig into the leather, but I put them on anyhow and then wait. They walk away, steps crunching in the snow, and I follow.

Hassen claps his hand on my shoulder again. "Ah, I remember first resonance. It is a good thing. It may seem like your female is frightened, but she will come around. This is all very new for her."

I grunt.

"What do you know of your mate?" Salukh asks, looking over at me as we walk. "Do you know her past?"

I scowl at him. "I thought you were to tell me how to learn humans."

He gives me a solemn look, unaffected by my anger. He walks calmly at my side, using a spear as a walking stick. "I am getting there. With humans, there are many things to consider."

"Such as?"

"Such as their pasts." Salukh eyes me. "Your Vuh-ron-ca was captured from her planet and enslaved."

Who wasn't? "And?"

"Were you around female slaves?"

"No, they were sold for breeding or for pleasure." Recognition dawns on me. "You think my Veronica has been used by others?"

"It is possible. My mate was. When she first arrived, she was very frightened. She hid it well, but she did not want any mating. It took her a long time to welcome my touch. Are you sure this is not the case with Vuh-ron-ca?"

My nostrils flare and I think back to the fear-scent covering her just moments ago. Oh no, she'd said. My heart hurts at the thought of slavers touching her. Hurting her. How many slavelords have I seen with a pretty female in chains at their feet? Females who had no use except to be a welcome cunt for their owner?

Murderous rage flares through me. I clench my fists, my claws digging into my hands. Has my Veronica been touched like this? Is that why she is afraid to mate? Last night she slept in my arms…but last night she was freezing cold and she would not touch me until her friend did. "I will speak to her," I say thickly. "I want to know if she has been harmed."

"Sometimes human females are bold," Hassen offers. "My Mah-dee ignored me for a long time because she imagined herself angry at me."

"I do not think she imagined it," Salukh says dryly. "You stole her sister."

Hassen grunts. "She did not stay mad for long. But when she got over her anger, she was the one that approached me for mating."

Salukh looks thoughtful. "My Tee-fah-ni approached me, as well."

Now this is interesting. "So human females like to be in control of a mating?" It reminds me of drakoni courtships. "When does she indicate she wishes to battle?"

"Battle?" Salukh shakes his head. "Mine did not battle."

"Mine did," Hassen says, a pleased smile on his face. He gazes off into the distance, no doubt imagining his human female. "She is fierce, my Mah-dee. She takes no crap, as the humans say. I enjoy that very much."

"We know," Salukh comments. "We hear you mating in your hut all the time. You are both very loud."

I am fascinated by their conversation. If another male spoke to me as Salukh speaks to Hassen, I would have him by the throat. But they are both amused by the other's comments. It is as if they acknowledge each other's flaws and still decide to be companions. Interesting. Still, my khui is rumbling in my chest and I would rather discuss my mate than theirs. "So I should wait for Veronica to choose to battle me? What if she does not battle? What if she is weak, like your mate?"

Salukh goes very still. His jaw clenched. "My mate is not weak."

His tone is dangerous, and I realize I have offended him somehow. It should not matter to me that he is angry, but I am yet new here. "In my culture, females that do not battle for a male's attention are considered weak. It is different with humans, it seems."

"Very much. Humans are as varied as each crystal of snow." Hassen puts out a hand and a few flakes melt on his skin. "You would do well to remember that, my golden friend."

"I am called Ashtar. And I will think on what you have said."

Hassen grins at me and claps a hand on my shoulder. "Good. Because we are all going to be watching you to ensure that you do not push Ron-ka to do something she does not wish to do."

My temper flares again despite his friendly attitude. I flick his hand off my arm. "Your chief said the khui has chosen. Now you both come to me and say my mate must choose. Which is it?"

Salukh snorts quietly. "You will learn soon enough that it is both."

8

VERONICA

T  he cootie in my breast doesn't stop. It doesn't stop as the others rise from their parasite-induced naps. It doesn't stop as the suns (both of them, tiny dull specks in the sky) go down and we all gather by the fire to eat stew. The weather gets colder and it's not nearly as bothersome, which is nice.

But my cootie still doesn't stop. Like, at all. And when Ashtar comes and sits next to me with his bowl of stew, it kicks into high gear, thrumming and purring so hard that I can practically feel my boobs shaking. He watches me as he eats, which only makes things worse. I do my best to avoid eye contact, staring straight ahead at the fire and not looking at him. If I do, my cootie's just going to get louder.

And it seems that the louder the darn thing gets, the more I…feel it. Not just in my chest, where it's shaking all of my internal organs around, but lower, between my thighs, like I'm the dirtiest girl on the planet and it wants the world to know just how horny I am. Because god, am I horny. Ashtar's nearness only makes things worse, too. He's close by and his heat radiates and he's watching me and it takes everything I have not to fling myself on him for a quick makeout session.

Then I remember him ripping his loincloth off and gazing down at me with swirling black eyes that superseded the blue…and I remember that a cootie's two goals are not just to keep me alive, but to make me pregnant. And that cools the ardor pretty fast.

Out of all twenty people that get cooties that afternoon, Ashtar and I are the only ones that resonate. I'm surprised, because I really thought that someone else would. I'm not the prettiest girl. I doubt I'm the most fertile. But here I am, buzzing like a cellphone on constant vibrate, and Ashtar is, too. Everyone stares. Gosh, does everyone stare. Hannah smirks at me from over her bowl, and Bridget and Tia watch us with fascination. Even nearsighted Lauren is eyeballing us as if everyone's just waiting for me to toss aside my dinner and leap onto Ashtar.

I mean, he's good-looking, but no. Really good-looking. Intensely good-looking, honestly. And warm. And appealing. And…and I need to stop thinking like that or this cootie's really going to make me leap onto him like everyone expects. I shove another mouthful of stew into my face and promptly burn my mouth. Figures.

After dinner, people chitchat back and forth. Harlow and Liz tell us about how they got on the planet. Vektal tells us all about his mate and children, and it's clear that he misses them greatly. On and on, people share their stories. I learn names to go with faces, and I watch everyone with a wistful sort of envy. Sometimes it seems like they're less of a tribe and more of a family. They tease each other back and forth. They steal food from each other's bowls like it's a game. They joke and laugh about babies and mates and hunting adventures. Everyone seems to know everything about everyone else, and no one is left out or unwelcome. I've never had a big family. Growing up, it was just me and my dad, and he passed away two years ago. I've been alone ever since.

I wouldn't mind being part of a big family again, even if they have horns and blue skin and glowing eyes. Heck, everyone has glowing eyes now. All except Ashtar. His glow sometimes, but I've noticed that when his mood changes, the colors spiral and darken. I automatically look over at him, only to see that he's watching me with an intensity that makes my nipples prick underneath my tunic. My pussy throbs with a reminder that the cootie's making me turned on, and I cross my legs delicately so I can squeeze them tighter.

Unfortunately, after that quick look over at Ashtar, his cootie's purring even louder than mine. At my other side, Nadine giggles and I want to sink into the snow and just hide. Damn damn damn.

"Tonight we sleep inside the ship again one more time," Vektal says to the gathered group. "Then, tomorrow, we shall arrive at the great salt lake and will destroy it there."

One of the men—the one with tattoos and metal-coated horns—looks angry at this and stalks away. A moment later, the only female sa-khui, Farli, follows him. That must be her mate. I try to remember his name. Mardok, I think. Guess he's not happy with ditching the ship. That makes two of us.

After Farli and her mate depart, everyone else eventually scatters. Harlow and Liz head off to bed with their mates, and the other blue guys discuss setting watches. I head inside the ship's hold with the other women and grab my roll of furs from the stack in the corner, laying out my blankets in the corner. I feel watched right now, too, like everyone's waiting to see if I'm gonna just shack up with Ashtar right in front of everyone.

I mean, jeez. Do they think I'm a cat in heat? I rub at my purring chest. Maybe they do.

It's no longer as bitterly, horribly cold so I don't mind that no one else bunks next to me. The other girls probably don't know if they should sleep next to me, I tell myself, though I feel a little isolated and lonely and that sucks. I crawl under the covers fully dressed and close my eyes. I have all the time in the world to make friends. It doesn't have to happen tonight. I hope.

A soft thump lands beside my head. I open my eyes and see Ashtar's bedroll next to my head. In the next moment, the big golden alien unravels his blankets and then lies down next to me.

I sit up on my elbows. "What are you doing?" I hiss at him. In the dark, I can feel my face turning bright red, like all the heat in my body has gone there. Well, there and one other place between my legs that won't stop throbbing.

"I am sleeping next to you to share my body heat," he announces.

Oh goody. He just said that loud enough for everyone to hear. Somewhere in the background, I hear someone snicker. Jerks. Of course, I'd probably be snickering if it wasn't me resonating…but it is, dammit. That makes it different. I debate telling him no, because now everyone's going to think tonight under my blankets, we're going to have one big makeout party. I clench my thighs together at the thought, because I like it far too much and I blame that on my cootie.

It's not Ashtar's fault that he resonated to me, the blandest of the bland. It's not his fault that I don't know how to handle his boldness and his flirty ways. He's trying to be nice.

And we're definitely going to have to get along in the future, because my cootie isn't taking no for an answer. So I say nothing as he lies down on his bedroll and looks over at me as if I'm the most interesting thing in the world.

"Hi," I whisper, utterly conscious of everyone else around us.

"You smell nice," Ashtar tells me, and then his eyes flicker darker and a frown crosses his face. Before I can ask what it is, someone drops a bedroll right next to our heads. I look up and it's Zolaya, who lies down without comment and closes his eyes.

It's obvious he's chaperoning. It's also obvious from the angry set of Ashtar's jaw that he's not a fan. I can't help the giggle that rises in my throat, though. This is almost funny. I press a hand to my mouth to smother the hysterical laughter bubbling there when Ashtar sighs heavily.

Eventually, the golden alien leans in close to me, whispering. "How are you feeling?"

That just makes my cootie buzz louder, and his does, too. God, I'm surprised no one asks us to go sleep in another room it's so loud. "I feel fine. You?"

"I am fine…except my cock aches."

That makes me giggle-snort with laughter, and nearby, Zolaya clears his throat.

"Do not worry," Ashtar says, leaning in. "I will ignore it until you are ready for mating."

"Thank you," I manage to choke out.

That's not the end of the conversation, though. Ashtar turns toward me, leaning on one arm so he can study me. "Did your captors hurt you? The slavers?"

Did they hurt me? "I don't…think so? I didn't even see them. All I remember is going to sleep in my apartment and waking up here." I gesture at the air. "So if they hurt me, I don't recall it." Maybe that's a good thing. I'm creeped out by how much I might have missed while asleep, but at the same time, I don't know that I want to know. If something awful happened, I think I'd rather spend the rest of my life not knowing. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, they never got into the arena with me."

"Arena?"

"Yes. I am called a gladiator. I fight other slaves to the death for the glory of my owner."

"Jesus." I look over at him with wide eyes. "How long did you do that for?"

He shrugs his big shoulders, not taking his gaze off of me. "I was stolen to be a slave when I was eight."

"Eight? An eight-year-old gladiator?"

"There are all kinds of fights to please spectators. What did you do? Were you a slave back on your planet?"

"God, no. I did medical billing." I grimace, because that probably makes no sense to him. "I assigned money to, er, healers after they saw people that were hurt."

He grunts. "That does not sound exciting."

"It doesn't have to be exciting if it provides security."

Ashtar homes in on my words. He leans in closer. "And security is important to you."

"Isn't it important to everyone?" His eyes—and mine—glow in the darkness, and it makes it easier to see his mouth. I have the most intense urge to kiss him, but I fight it. I don't want to send out the wrong signals.

"Not to me. A gladiator exists only day to day, battle to battle. I did not think I would live long enough for such things to cross my mind." He grins, his teeth flashing bright in the darkness. "But if you worry over such things, I will make sure you are safe."

What can I possibly say to that? "Thank you."

"I am told your people do not battle to show mating urges. This is true?"

Erm? He's giving me an intense look, and I realize he's utterly serious. "Battle? No. If we want to mate we show it in other ways. Nice ways."

"Nice ways?"

"Kissing. Flowers. Gifts. Things like that."

He looks intrigued. "Gifts. I can do those. Tell me who your enemies are and I will bring you their heads."

"No heads," I say faintly. "You know what? Let's just skip gifts entirely."

"Then you wish plants and these ‘kissings.’"

I'm not sure I want any of it…but I'm also not sure that's not me lying to myself. "Before we start running off on this track, how about we just take things slow, all right? I'm not sure I'm ready for any of this."

"I understand. I do not wish to force you, Veronica. What you want is important to me."

Oh my god. Now we're talking about sex again. I touch his hand to get his attention. "Not so loud. The others will hear."

He snorts. "You think they do not know we are going to mate? Your khui is louder than mine."

"Yes, well, like I said, I just need more time to get used to all of this." More time to get used to how frank he is, and the whole planet, and everything. In the space of a day or two I've gone from boring Earth job to stranded ex-slave on a wintry planet with a forever mate who wants to give me the heads of my enemies. It's a bit much for any girl to take in. "I'm still not entirely sure why your cootie picked me."

Ashtar goes still, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just that. I'm not special. It's weird that we're the only ones that resonated. There are others that are prettier, or more athletic. There are others that are smarter. Heck, Devi's a scientist. But for some reason your cootie picked mine and I'm still trying to figure that out."

"It knew I wanted you," he tells me confidently. "Why would it not choose you? You are the only one whose scent called to me in this place. I was pleased to hear that I would be given a female, but when I scented you, I knew you were my mate."

Beg pardon? He scented me and that was how he knew? "What do you mean? You told your cootie to pick me?"

"No. I am the same as you—I woke up to find my chest singing its song for you. But when I got here, I found one scent more appealing than any other. I was very curious to find whose it was. And I learned it was yours." He reaches out and traces a claw-tipped finger down my arm. "Does that bother you? That I chose you before the khui did?"

"No? I guess not?" It's a little mind-boggling. "You do know back on Earth I'm not special to anyone, right?"

"Ah, my Veronica," he murmurs, voice low and just a little bit rumbly with the force of his cootie. "You do not have to be special to everyone. Just to me."

It's hard to argue with that.

9

ASHTAR

I  am surprised at my female's fear of mating. I could understand it if she had been abused in the past, but for her to just want to take her time because she is not used to the idea seems foreign to me. As a gladiator and a slave, I had to adapt quickly. There was no time for me to adjust to things. I simply learned or died.

Humans are different. I am learning this with every moment that passes. I must take the knowledge I have and discard it, or I will never please my mate. She is starting anew on this planet, and I suppose I must, too.

Ashtar of the Drakoni, Three Time Champion of Praix XXIII must be no more. Ashtar, Veronica's Mate and Protector will be my new title.

I like it.

And when my mate turns in her sleep and moves closer to me, I decide I like this place very much. I put my arms around her and go to sleep.

THE NEXT MORNING, the ship trudges across the landscape, and the females gather around Liz as she shows them how to sew clothing. I have no wish to learn such things, so I wander the hold restlessly. The other males—the two a'ani and the beast-creature—seem as restless as I am. I challenge one of the a'ani—Vordis—to a sparring match, but the other females are so alarmed that we end it before either of us breaks a sweat.

There is nothing to do but sit. That is one of the things I do not like about this planet so far. It is not a place for warriors. I am useless here. I watch one of the blue males show a female how to lash a head to a spear—such a primitive weapon—and wonder what good a drakoni male will be here.

As if sensing my unhappy thoughts, one of the red a'ani moves to my side. He watches the females closely, saying nothing.

"Which one is your mate?" I ask.

He grunts. "I have my eye on the one with the big belly, but that must be resolved first."

Strange male. He wants something clearly claimed by another. I do not point out how odd this is. Perhaps it is a custom where he comes from. I study him. He is called Thrand, and of the two a'ani, he is the more reserved. "Vordis is your brother, yes?"

Thrand looks over at me. "Brother? In a sense. We are clones, bred for fighting." He rubs his jaw. "I…do not know what good I will be here."

It as if he speaks my thoughts aloud. I nod. "Perhaps they will have war games in their village."

He snorts with derision. "There are not enough people for such things. They are stranded here. They have but one village. My last master had more slaves in his pens than they have people. No one is going to risk their lives in a battle for glory." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Have you told them of your battle form?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "How do you know of this?"

"I fought a drakoni in the arena once. It took sixteen of my brothers to bring him down." His smile is ferocious, feral. "You have a soft spot in your neck when you shift forms, perfect for a dagger."

I say nothing. He is trying to show his prowess. I understand this, especially with females to impress so close nearby. When he keeps watching me, I decide I must say something. I have been waiting for the right moment to tell my mate of such a thing. I do not want her worrying over more things, when she already fills her mind with enough fear. But if I do not speak of it, I do not know that Thrand and his brother-clone will remain silent on such a thing. "I have been waiting for the right moment to speak of it. It is…complicated."

Thrand nods. "I shall say nothing, and I shall share with you a bit of wisdom. Vordis and I have decided that if these spear-carriers try to separate us from the females, we shall break out. There are no collars to keep us here, and we can best any of them in a fight. We would take our females and make our own encampment."

It is not a bad idea. "If you choose to do so, let me know. I might join you."

"Good."

"Which female does Vordis have his eye on?" I ask, curious.

Thrand's expression grows distant. "That is the problem with clones. We think alike." He glances over at me. "We have not yet decided which of us will take the one with the big belly. He wants her, and I do as well."

That is a problem, indeed. "Mine is Veronica. I want no one to touch her."

Thrand bears his teeth in what might be an attempt at a smile. "Everyone knows this. You two kept half the camp awake with your buzzing last night."

"Resonance," I agree, not displeased. "Hopefully it will not be long before she lets me claim her."

"It is your right, is it not?" He shakes his head at me. "Why wait? She has been given to you by your khui. Take what is yours, friend. We will not stand in your way." He looks over, and Vordis is watching us. The other a'ani nods slowly, as if agreeing with Thrand's words.

"Humans are difficult," I tell him. "You will understand that when you try to woo your fat-bellied female. Until then, do not tell me how to woo mine." My mood growing as black as my eyes, I stalk away, only to find I have nowhere to go. I nearly step over the tied-down beast-man and snarl at him when he growls at me.

I am tired of this ship.

I am tired of waiting to be alone with Veronica. The others say we are going to a great salt lake. An ocean, I suspect, though I have never seen one myself. There, I hope we will settle.

Maybe there I will tell Veronica about my battle form and the link my fires will create between us. Perhaps she will find such a thing exciting instead of terrifying.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps I should wait until we have mated and I have given her my fires before I surprise her with such a thing.

VERONICA

The beach isn't like any beach I have ever seen before.

"Stay away from the water's edge," Vektal says in his people's language, and my newly implanted translator makes it impossibly easy to understand, as easy as if he spoke in English. I'm still getting used to that.

This beach? It's going to be another thing to get used to. Pebbly sand crunches under my leather boots, but that's about the only familiar thing. The waves that crash in as if they're attacking the beach are bottle green, and…things…float in the waves. Something vaguely crablike scuttles along the sand, and the nearby cliffs are jagged and steep, as if they're determined to protect the rest of the world from the horrors of the beach itself.

It's definitely not peaceful. Or warm. Or a place to relax and sip this planet's version of a margarita. "So…this is our home?" I can't hide how horrifying I find the thought.

Vektal glances over at me. "Not for long. We will destroy the ship and then be on our way."

One of the hunters at his side tilts his head at the sky and frowns, as if he disagrees but isn't sure he wants to say anything. Rokan, I think his name is. I'm starting to put faces with names after two long days.

"For tonight, we should stay," one hunter with twisted horns says. He puts a hand protectively on Liz's shoulder. "Everyone is tired, and Mardok wants more time to strip the ship of what he can use."

Vektal grunts, hands on his hips. "We will set up tents on the sand, along the cliffs to serve as a wind-break. Everyone can have an evening to relax before we head home." He looks cheered at the thought, and so do the other blue guys. I bet they're missing their families something fierce.

It makes me sad. I don't have anyone back home to miss.

I glance over at Ashtar, and he's watching me closely. His eyes are whirling with intensity, and for some reason, this makes my head hurt. I rub the spot between my brows that's aching and gaze out at the unfamiliar ocean. I wish something in this world wasn't so scary. I wish everything didn't terrify the crap out of me. I feel powerless and small and afraid, and it sucks.

As if to emphasize this, two of the blue aliens move past with a snarling, fighting beast-man between them. He looks utterly feral and terribly frightening, and Tia and Steph both cringe away as they get near. Only Willa has a look of intense sympathy on her face. I shudder. If he wasn't tied down…how would he act? How many people would he hurt? Even his features don't look all that human.

Ashtar moves to my side and puts a hand on each of my shoulders. "He will not hurt you," he tells me, then pulls me close.

I let him put his arms around me, even though I probably shouldn't. I shake my head as the beast-alien—Gren—struggles and fights with his captors. "I just don't get him. Maybe he's too beast-like to understand that no one's going to hurt him." I look over at Ashtar. He's different and alien, but he's still attractive. "I'm glad you're not like that."

"Beast-like?" His expression is impossible to read.

I nod. "I think I'd be terrified."

His hands clench on me. "I would let no harm come to you. I promise."

Willa presses her fingers to her mouth, her big eyes sad as she watches the others take Gren away. "I don't think he's trying to hurt us," she says in that soft, Southern voice of hers. "I just think…he doesn't know any other way."

I don't know if she's right or wrong. I just don't want to be there when he breaks free.

I HAVEN'T SET a tent up since I was in Girl Scouts, but it looks like my choices for the afternoon are either that or gathering and preparing the crab-scorpion things for dinner. Just the thought of touching one makes my stomach heave, so tents it is. Steph, Bridget, Nadine, Devi, Sam and I listen while Cashol and Ereven show us how to put the tents together. They're made of leather hides stitched together (which is no surprise) and long pieces of bone for the poles (which is a surprise).

I'm pretty terrible at the tent-making, but I give it my best. It makes the afternoon pass quickly enough and it's even a little fun. I glance around from time to time, wincing as I see Callie, Tia, Hannah, Penny and Raven helping Liz with “dinner,” or more specifically, pulling legs off and ripping open shells. Poor Angie sits by the fire and stirs the hanging pouch that acts as a stew-pot, and Lauren's helping dismantle the ship, along with Willa and Marisol. The ship isn't due to be launched into the waves until tomorrow, when everything is ready to go. Because of that, most of the sa-khui guys are out hunting. I want to ask where the food's going if we're having crab things for dinner tonight, but it seems polite not to ask. Everyone stays busy and doesn't ask questions.

Even the new guys have a task. Off on the far end of the beach, I see Ashtar's golden skin gleaming against the dark green of the pebbly sand. He stands to one side, listening intently as a big grumpy alien named Bek shows him how to throw nets into the water for fishing. The two red guys stand nearby listening, too. I think we're all starting to realize that for better or for worse, this is now home…which means we'd better learn how to survive here. My gaze slides back to Ashtar. If it weren't for the golden skin, I would think he was one of the natives here. He dresses like they do already, wearing not much more than a loincloth and a pair of boots. His bronzed back ripples as he tosses the net, showing off that strange scaly pattern that looks more reptilian than it actually feels. His skin is pleasant to touch, and not in the least bit—

"You're staring," Bridget says in a singsong voice at my side.

I jump, nearly dropping the pole in my hands. "I am not!"

"You totally are, and your cootie agrees with me," Bridget announces. "I bet they can hear you halfway across the beach."

Just then, Ashtar turns and glances backward, searching for me. His gaze fixes on me and he gives me a long, warm look that makes my cootie rev even louder. Devi giggles nearby.

"Do not tease her, Bree-shit," Cashol reprimands, moving to our tent. "She cannot help resonance. It will work itself out in time. Concentrate on your work."

"Oh my god, it's Bridget, for the ninetieth time!"

"Over here, Bree-shit," Ereven calls from the far end of the tent. "I need a pair of hands on this side."

Bridget grits her teeth, handing me the pole she's holding. "I think you guys are doing that on purpose." But she follows the sound of Ereven's voice and I look over at Devi, who's trying very hard not to burst into laughter. Poor Bridget. These guys really struggle with a soft G sound for some reason—all of them except the chief—and Bridget has the most unfortunate name for that sort of problem.

"So what's it like?" Devi asks, sidling up to me as she pushes her pole through the leather “sleeve” designed to hold things in place. "The resonance? Do your internal organs feel like they're in a paint shaker? Or is it just like an all-over quaking? Or is it aural only and not physical?"

"Um…it's different. I don't know how to describe it." Or rather, I don't want to describe it. I'm certainly not telling Devi that I feel breathless and aroused oh, all the damn time. That I find myself fighting the urge to rip my clothes off and rub up all over him at any moment. That I keep wondering what it'd be like to have sex with him. All the time.

Literally, I wonder it all the time. Day, night, lunchtime, any time in between. I even think about babies, though I'm not sure I'm mentally ready for that next step in the process yet. I'm still trying to get used to the idea of a big golden alien as my “forever” mate, even if everyone else has already accepted it as fact.

Doesn't mean I have.

I'm not necessarily against Ashtar. I'm not against having a mate. I'm just against it freaking happening all at once mere hours after I land on an alien planet. Is a little time to mentally settle in too much to ask?

I shove my pole into my leather pocket a little harder than I maybe should, and I can hear the seams rip. That sends Cashol running over to my side. "No, Ron-ka. Not like that. Let me show you again."

"Right. Sorry." I try to pay attention.

"Have any of you seen the human Will-uh?" Vektal asks, striding up to our group. He frowns as everyone pauses, and I can see he's mentally going over heads, counting them, looking for Willa's blonde corkscrew curls and freckled face.

"Isn't she helping Mardok and Farli with the ship?" Callie asks.

"I saw her feeding Gren a little while ago," Devi adds with a frown.

Vektal immediately storms off. "Wait here," Cashol says, following behind his chief. We watch them go, exchanging puzzled looks before returning to setting up our tent. I take my time sliding the pole in and start to lace it in place when there's a loud bellow of anger somewhere down on the beach.

Ereven immediately throws his poles down and races forward. Someone grabs my arm and whimpers, and a few of the girls cluster together. "What do we do?" someone whimpers. "What's going on?"

I remain utterly still, terror making my feet feel like lead. Something's wrong. As I watch, blue guys start running up and down the beach. Liz gets to her feet, alarm on her face.

"What is it?" Devi asks. "What's going on?"

I take a step forward, not sure if we should run or hide or what. A golden blur surges up the beach, and I'm relieved to see Ashtar racing toward me. When he gets to my side, he immediately pulls me protectively against him, and I'm so glad he's here. I feel safe with him at my side. I don't even care that my cootie's going wild. I just know he's not going to let anything happen to me.

Ashtar rubs my back, letting me huddle against him as the other girls crowd close. "Stay near, females," my big golden god says. "I will let no harm come to you."

"Harm? What's going on?"

"Nothing good," he replies, and slides his hand down my back again.

Suddenly I'm having a hard time concentrating on the danger. It's difficult to focus when he touches me like that.

Ereven races back toward our group, spear in hand, shoving a knife into his belt. He nods at Ashtar. "Bring the females close to the fire for safety. We can watch you all easier if you're together."

"What is it?" Steph demands. "What happened?"

Ereven starts to race away again, but not before answering, "Gren is missing."

10

VERONICA

T  he next few hours are chaos.

Gren is gone from the camp. The ropes binding him have been found utterly chewed through and snapped. One-horned Pashov had been assigned to watch him and was found passed out in the sand, a large wound on his head and a bloody rock nearby. He's all right, though everyone looks worried.

Willa's gone, too. The last time anyone saw her was near Gren, so it's not hard to put two and two together.

Then, the afternoon just gets worse.

There's a low rumbling and it takes everyone a minute to realize that the ship has been launched and is sinking into the waters of the ocean, flames pouring out of it. In the confusion, no one knows who set it off early or why. Mardok is devastated. Harlow, too.

And then we find that both Marisol and Lauren are missing. Marisol and Lauren, who were helping out with the stripping of the ship.

Everyone's numb after that. In one afternoon, we've gone from twenty survivors to sixteen. The cheerful hope we had for our survival has disappeared into a dull sort of misery. We huddle around the fire that night while the sa-khui tribesmen go looking for Willa and Gren, and others comb the beach looking for bodies.

There are a lot of tears. I'm not ashamed to admit that some of them are mine.

Ashtar never leaves my side. I'm strangely grateful, because it means I don't have to deal with any of this alone. I have a shoulder to cry on, a friend to hold my hand, someone to make me feel safe. The others don't, and for the first time in all of this mess, I'm glad I'm the one that resonated right away and not someone else. I don't know if I'd be able to handle this on my own.

Everyone is reluctant to go to sleep. I start nodding off by the fire, and Ashtar slides an arm around my waist. "I am taking Veronica to our tent," he declares. Yesterday, I would have been utterly embarrassed by such a statement. But yesterday, we weren't grieving the loss of three women. And Gren, I mentally add, and then feel guilty that I didn't include him right away.

Zolaya is watching us by the fire. He looks at me, questioning Ashtar's statement. I can tell he's in Protective Dad mode, looking at me with the whole “just say the word and I'll step in” expression on his face. I nod and lean into Ashtar. I don't mind sleeping with him tonight. I prefer it, actually. I won't be alone and I'll be safe. I don't think it'll be sexual. I think he just wants to hold me close.

I am totally fine with being held all night long.

When we leave the group, no one catcalls or makes jokes. All the spirit has left our little group. I know how they feel. I'm not altogether grieving, because I didn't know them well enough to be anguished that they're gone. I'm closer to Bridget, or Hannah, or even Steph. But our group has been broken. Our spirits have been trampled. This place is no longer an adventure. It's unsafe and scary.

I manage to not trip over my own feet as we walk through the sand in the darkness, though I do twist an ankle. Ashtar grabs our bedrolls, picks one of the tents in the back of the group and then flings our bedrolls inside. "Come, Veronica. Close the tent behind you."

I duck inside and do as he says, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the near-total darkness. The only light is that of the blue gleam in his eyes. "What if there are sand-scorpions in here?" I whisper.

"I will kill them and then we have a snack," he says confidently.

Yippee. I kneel down on my furs and crawl under the blankets. Sand clings to my boots and gets in everything, but I don't care. I'm too tired. The moment I lie down, Ashtar reaches over and pulls me against him.

I stiffen.

"No mating tonight," he tells me. "Much as I would like to, you are sad and missing your friends."

"Aren't they your friends, too?"

"A gladiator has no friends."

For some reason, that breaks my heart. I can only imagine why he doesn't, most likely because he'd find himself in the arena with them sooner or later. I find his hand and squeeze it in the dark. "I'll be your friend."

He just pulls me closer. "You are my everything."

My cootie purrs and I don't care. I get a thrill of joy at hearing him say that. I put a hand on his chest, resting my head in the crook of his shoulder, and next to him I feel small and dainty and perfect. I'm not clumsy and blah, not when I'm Ashtar's Veronica. Maybe that's why our cooties paired us together. Who knows. "Thank you for today."

"What did I do today?"

"You stuck by me. Protected me. I didn't realize I was feeling vulnerable and alone until you showed up. So…I wanted to say thanks."

He grunts. "You act surprised. You are my mate, Veronica. Even if you do not want to acknowledge it yet, my heart does, and I will not let any harm come to you. Ever."

I squirm with pleasure at hearing that. "I…thank you." I'm not sure what else to say, but I feel like I should say something. "I appreciate you, just so you know. I'd really feel lost if you weren't here."

"I want you to know that I am at your side, always. Do not be afraid to ask me for anything." Something gentle brushes over my cheek—his fingers.

Nodding, I try to relax against him. I keep thinking of Gren and Willa, though. God, poor Willa. I wonder what Gren is doing to her. Did he hurt her? The wound on Pashov's head was pretty brutal, so I can only imagine Gren's strength. Just thinking about that wound makes my body itch in response, and my hands feel cool and tingly. I give them a little shake and focus on poor Willa instead. Willa always joked that she was a farm girl, but I don't think she'll have the strength to fight back against someone like Gren, who looks like his entire species was built to destroy. I hope he just wanted to escape from this place and happened to take her with him. I hope he didn't take her with him to hurt her…or worse.

"What species is Gren?" I ask softly. "Do you know?"

In the darkness, I feel him shake his head, his chin brushing against my hair. "I have seen many types of aliens, but I have never seen his like. I have heard that some slavemasters paid quite a bit in credits so they could cross-breed and splice several species together to produce one super-gladiator, but I have never fought against such a creature. If I had to guess, though, I would say he is like that."

I shudder, burrowing against his warm, protective arm. Part of me feels pity for Gren, that he's just a hodgepodge of parts stuck together to make a killing machine for someone else's pleasure. I think of Willa and how she was the only one of us not completely and utterly terrified of him. And now look at what that's cost her.

For some reason, I find myself thinking of Pashov's head wound again. It was a nasty gash, and when Vektal saw it, all he said was “Again?” but I could tell that there was concern in his voice. I didn't approach to help, but for some reason, I feel like I should have. It's odd, but I feel like I could help. I don't know how, just that I do. My hands tingle and feel cool again, and I tuck them against Ashtar's side to warm them. It's not an unpleasant sensation, just odd. Maybe my cootie's messing with my circulation because it's pounding so hard.

And it's definitely pounding right now. The steady thrum has risen to a dull roar in my chest now that I'm lying next to Ashtar. His cootie's “singing” just as loudly to mine, and I can feel the vibration of his body against mine. Part of me wants to explore what this means, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet. I run my hand up and down his chest, noticing that he feels just as smooth and skin-like as any human, despite the scale pattern on his golden flesh. He's careful when he puts his arms around me, and I remember the horned spikes sticking out of the backs of his arms, spikes that he makes sure never touch me. His hand touches mine, and I feel the claws tipping his fingers.

Why do I feel safe with such a deadly alien? The body next to mine is nothing but hard muscle. He's got fangs. Claws. Spikes. Horns. He's been a gladiator—and therefore a killer—for a long time. I should be as terrified of him as I am of Gren. Funnily enough, it's the opposite. I feel truly safe around Ashtar. He's different from me, but not in a bad way.

"What are your people called?" I ask him, because I realize that I've never inquired about them until now.

"Mine are the drakoni."

"Huh." I smile to myself in the dark, running my hand up his chest again and imagining the scale pattern there. "Sounds a bit like dragon."

"Mmm."

"Mine are humans."

"I know. I have seen humans before."

"You have? Where?" I sit up and look over at him, curious.

"Wearing slave collars and usually fawning at some lord's feet," he tells me, voice flat. "Do not forget where I have come from. It was not a good place."

"Oh." I swallow hard, because I hate the thought of Ashtar's former life and how awful it must have been. I think of those poor humans, chained up for someone else's pleasure. That could have been me.

That was going to be me. I shudder.

He rubs my shoulder absently, as if to comfort me, and I lie back down against him. I don't want to think about that. I want to think about other things. Happy things. Things like the golden man next to me. "What are your people like? Do you mind if I ask?"

"I do not mind, but I also do not know if I have all of the answers you seek. It has been a very long time since I have been around any of my people. Like you, I was stolen in the night from my world. I was very young, though. I do remember some things, but not all."

"What do you remember?"

One claw traces along my jaw in the darkness. I should be alarmed, but instead, I find it strangely arousing. It's like he's powerful and dangerous and we both know this…just like we both know he would never hurt me. That claw is more of a tease than a threat. "I remember how my people mate."

A knot forms in my throat even as my thighs clench together. "Oh?" I choke out.

"Yes." That claw glides along my jaw and then down my neck, and I fight the urge to arch up against it. My cootie's humming a mile a minute. "A female challenges a male for his attentions. Our females are fierce warriors, and they will only allow themselves to be covered by a male that conquers them. So if a female is interested in a male, she attacks him."

"That's…unusual courtship." His claw is tracing along my collarbones, flirting with the neck of my fur-lined tunic.

"Is it? It is all I know." His voice is so, so warm against my hair. "If the male wins the battle, he wins the right to mount the female. She stops fighting then, knowing that she has been defeated by a strong warrior. If the male decides she is not his true mate, he can fuck her, but he will not give her his seed. He spills it onto her back instead."

"Um…okay." I want to ask if he's going to give me his seed, but I know that will be a loaded (ha) question. I bite it back. "What if she is his mate?"

"If she is his mate, it is very different," he murmurs, and his claw drags down the front of my tunic. My entire body is tensing in response, and it practically feels orgasmic. My hand clenches against his stomach, tightening against the flat planes like my thighs are tightening. "He claims her and sinks deep inside her. So deep." His voice is raspy with need. "He makes sure she comes, first. She is always first."

My breath stutters.

The claw teases over one breast, lightly gliding across my nipple, and it feels like he's on bare skin despite the layers covering me. "When he is about to come, he pulls his female against him and sinks his teeth into her throat. He gives her his fires. It is a special bite, one that can only be given once in a male's lifetime. With that, he's giving her a part of his soul, part of his very being, part of his essence. Once she has taken his fires—and come again, because he will make sure she is delirious with pleasure at this point—he can spend himself inside her." His claw teases my nipple, but it's not half as erotic as the husky tone of his voice as he describes their mating rituals. "After that, they are joined forever, spirit to spirit, essence to essence, fires to fires."

A moan rises in my throat. I want him to rip my tunic off of my body and show me just what he means. In this moment, I want him to give me his fires, to show me everything he has to offer. To join us forever. "Ashtar—"

"Shhh," he murmurs, and his thumb grazes over my mouth, silencing me. "Not tonight, my fires. Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, when your head is clear, you can ask me for my fires then, if you so wish."

I shudder, brushing the tip of my tongue against his thumb-claw. I feel a tremor race through his body in return and I feel powerful. Sexy. "I don't know how to battle you."

He chuckles. "We can improvise."

At this moment, improvising sounds very, very good.

11

ASHTAR

M y mate wakes up the next morning, rested but sad. Her shyness has returned, but I expected that. It will take time for her to be truly comfortable around me. In a way, we will be strangers until we have our minds linked by my fires. Until then, I must learn patience. We head out of our tent, and my mate immediately moves toward the large fire on the beach, where others are gathered. I follow her, because I do not intend on leaving her side.

Others have different plans, though. The moment Veronica sits down, one of the blue sa-khui comes up to me. Mardok. "Good, you're here, Ashtar. We need everyone we can to help with the hunt." He is pacing, his tail twitching with impatience as he touches a datapad.

"Hunt?" I ask. "What are we hunting?"

"I'm still getting bio-signatures on Marisol and Lauren. They're alive, but the readout is scrambled. We're going to comb the beach and make sure we haven't missed them." He taps quickly at the datapad, and as he does, I notice others are gathering, their spears in hand.

"Why would I do such a thing?" I ask, genuinely puzzled.

Two of the sa-khui scowl at me. "You are part of this tribe. We need your help."

I cross my arms. "I do not care if they are alive or not." Life is cheap, and I would much rather stay close to my mate. It is a shame to lose two females, of course, but there are plenty more to go around.

"You are going," Vektal says flatly, and Zolaya comes to my side and shoves a spear into my hand.

I glare at them both, ready to protest, when a hand reaches out and touches my arm. "It's okay," Veronica tells me in her sweet voice. "I'll be safe here by the fire, Ashtar. Don't worry about me. You should go help them."

My mate. I look over at her, and her eyes are shining, her spirits cheered by this news. "You wish for me to go help them?" At her nod, I sigh heavily. I do not understand this thinking they have, that we are all friends. We are not friends. We are competing for the same food, the same females, the same spots on the beach. No slave has friends. No gladiator has friends.

But my mate wants me to do this. She doesn't understand why I would say no. "For you I will, Veronica." And I do my best not to glare at the chief. "Lead the way."

The males gather up and then split out, heading in different directions on the beach with instructions to look for the two missing human females. The wind blows into my face and carries no scent of decay with it, so if they are dead, they are not here. Perhaps they are alive, but I do not smell that either. Then again, neither is my female, so I have not taken the care to implant their scents into my mind.

If this will make Veronica happy, I will do it, but I will not be pleased to spend the day with the other males. I head down the beach to the area I have been instructed to search, and I am even less pleased to find that the one named Zolaya—the male with a messy braid of long black hair—follows at my side.

"I can search without help," I tell him curtly. My sense of smell is far better than his. I do not require assistance.

"I am coming anyhow," he says.

I narrow my eyes at him and pause. "Why do you watch me so closely? Are you thinking to steal my mate?" My eyes go black at the thought, and I can feel rage pulsing through my body. If he so much as tries anything, I will tear his throat out.

Zolaya snorts and moves past me. "I have a mate, and she is the most perfect creature in the world. I have no need for yours."

"Then why not spend your time harassing someone else?"

He glances back at me. "Because your mate is a vulnerable female, and someone should watch out for her. I have decided I will be that someone."

I clench my jaw at his arrogant words. "You should stay away from Veronica."

"Interesting, I was going to tell you the same." He drops all pretense of eyeing the beach and instead turns to glare at me. "I know you have resonated, but you are pushing her very hard. You need to give her time to adjust. There are many new things in this world. For her, everything has changed in a matter of days. She will need time to be used to this new world, these new people." He gestures at himself and the beach, then back at the fire. "And the more you push, the more you will scare her or make her afraid. Until she is ready and reaches for you, you should go slow."

He knows nothing of me and my mate. I scowl at him, fury burning in my chest. I can feel the flames of fire licking at my insides, just waiting to be released. It would be nothing for me to destroy him, to change to my drakoni form and tear him in half, to burn his body down to coals. "No one keeps me from her," I warn him in a deadly voice. I watch a curl of smoke escape my mouth. "No one."

Zolaya's expression changes. He sighs and shakes his head. "I am not trying to keep you from her. No one is. You have resonated, and resonance cannot be controlled. What I am trying to say is that you should go slow. I am trying to be your friend, Ashtar. Your friend and hers."

I snort, blowing out steam. "I need no friends." And I turn and stalk down the beach.

12

VERONICA

M y golden boy seems like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I watch him move down the creepy beach with Zolaya, until they disappear out of sight. He doesn't look like he's having much fun. It's weird, because he doesn't seem to like most of the guys at the camp. I genuinely enjoy the company of all the girls here and I'm glad we have each other to lean on, but Ashtar is more of a loner.

"You think they're really alive?" Penny asks Harlow. The pregnant redhead is sitting with us by the fire today, her mate at her side. Most of the others are scattered up and down the beach and the surrounding lands, so it's a rather quiet day around the campfire. Pashov is still in his tent sleeping off his head wound, and I know the others are worried over it. Harlow explained that he was hit in the head in the past and lost his memories for a while, and they fear something like that will happen again. Poor guy. Some people are just unlucky like that.

I know how that goes. I seem to be a bit clumsier than most, so I've had my share of bad luck.

"Mardok says so, and he wouldn't lie." Harlow smiles, but she looks distracted.

"What about Willa?" Nadine asks.

"Alive, too," Harlow confirms. "And Gren."

"We know where they're at?" I ask, curious. "Mardok can track them? Why don't we go after them, then?"

Harlow hesitates. "Vektal's sent a few of the hunters to go find them, but it's a delicate situation. They don't want to make Gren nervous, in case he feels he needs to hurt Willa."

Oh. Oh no. I bite my lip. It's a hostage situation, then. Man, this planet went to hell overnight. How depressing.

Bridget sighs. "I can't believe it's 2012 and we're still having to worry about dudes kidnapping ladies. So much for equality."

"What are you talking about?" Hannah asks. "It's 2015."

"Um, no it's not. It's 2013," Bridget adds. "I know because I just turned twenty-three on the thirteenth of March. Three three three. I wouldn't forget that."

Harlow's eyes go wide. "I've been here for a few years now, and it was 2015 when I came here."

"What's going on?" Tia's voice trembles. "I don't understand."

We go around the fire, sharing the last date we remember at home. Mine is 2010. Angie's is the most out of sync, with her last remembering 2005. Hannah is the most recent at 2015, and no one is past that date. It's clear that whoever kidnapped us kept us in stasis for a long, long time…some of us longer than others. Angie touches her belly, worry on her face, and I know what she's thinking. It's what we're all thinking.

What happened in all those years we're missing? Why are they gone?

Next to me, Tia looks ready to have a nervous breakdown. I don't blame her. I feel ready to have one myself. I wish Lauren was here, because she's always been one we look to in a panicky moment. She'd be calm about it, say something reassuring, and do her best to lift everyone else's spirits. But she's gone, dead or missing, and that just makes things worse. Someone needs to step up.

Maybe it should be me. I'm the only one that's resonated so far, so maybe I should be more of a leader to the others. I'm experiencing things before they have, so it's bound to reason that they're going to have questions for me. No time like the present to take charge, I decide. "Let's not get upset over this," I say, and it sounds reasonable even to my own ears. "Let's just have some breakfast and worry about things we can control."

"Great idea," Bridget says, and Hannah makes a face at her.

"Why don't we have some tea?" Harlow suggests, and tries to get to her feet, a hand on her big belly. "I've got a great blend in my backpack—"

"I'll get it," I tell her. "You sit down." I surge to my feet and try to step over Tia's crossed legs.

My foot catches on hers, though, and then I'm falling, face first, into the fire. I put my hands out to protect myself, and I barely realize it's logs and coals that my hands smack into. I remain there for a moment, dumbly, before the pain flares in my body as it hits me. All of it hits me. I'm in the fire.

Every second feels like a hundred years. There's screaming. I try to push backward, to get out of the fire, but everything hurts. There's a smell like burning hair and I realize it's my hair. My hands throb with intense pain and then a body slams into me, knocking me into the snow.

"Stop, drop and roll, dammit," Hannah's yelling at me, slapping at my fur clothing.

I'm on fire.

I'm on fire.

Oh god. Everyone's screaming, and it just adds to my panic. I think my mind is blanking out because my hands both hurt and feel cool and tingly at the same time. The front of my chest feels scalded and my chin does, too, but none of it feels as intensely painful as my hands. I roll on the ground at everyone's feet while Hannah and Bridget slap at my clothing. Someone's screaming—Tia, I think—and all I can think is stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm such a clumsy idiot and now I've gotten myself hurt.

"Sit up," Hannah says, one hand on my shoulder. "Let's see the damage."

"I'll get bandages," Harlow says. "Come with me, Tia."

Tia sobs and moves to Harlow's side while the others crowd around me. I slowly sit up with Bridget's help, and I want to cry, too. Everything hurts so intensely I can't think straight. There's a low rumbling in my cootie, like it's not thinking clearly either, and my hands just keep tingling and tingling. I look down at them to see how bad it is.

It's bad. My hands are blistered and charred, the skin bubbling up where the flames hit. I swallow hard, because I've never seen anything so awful in my life. My chin hurts, and the front of my chest, and I suspect I've been burned there, too.

"It's going to be okay," Hannah tells me calmly. "Just keep your hands out straight and try not to bend them. We'll get some wet compresses and figure out what to do, all right?"

"The ship could heal this," Steph says, crouching by my side. "But it's gone."

"Maybe Mardok saved something," Bridget adds, patting my shoulder. "There's got to be something we can do."

I just keep staring at my hands. It's like the longer I stare, the less painful it feels. Maybe that's shock kicking in, but whatever it is, I'll take it. I continue to stare at my spread fingers, gazing down at the red welts. Burns are supposed to be some of the worst pain ever but…this actually doesn't feel all that terrible anymore. My hands tingle with that cool sensation, and my cootie's purring, except it's a different kind of purr than when Ashtar is around. This is like a purr that's just for me, as if it's telling me that everything's going to be okay. That it's got things handled.

That's kind of sweet, really.

As I stare at my hands, I notice the blisters are starting to fade. The pinkness fades, and the humming of my cootie just keeps filling me with that sense of peace and well-being. That nice, pleasant calmness. My fingertips continue to tingle, and as I watch, the burns disappear from my fingers. They bleed away as if never there, the blisters fading and smoothing as if my skin was never harmed. After a moment I flex my hands and they don't hurt. Just my chin does. Curious, I put a hand to my face and feel the blisters there, and I wonder if I can fix those, too, just by thinking about them.

"Don't touch it," Hannah says, pulling on my arm. "You'll make it worse. You…" Her voice dies away. "You…aren't burned? What the fuck?"

"I think I healed it," I tell her, and I'm just as mystified as she is. "Unless I'm going crazy. Look at my hands and tell me what you see." I spread my fingers before her face. Maybe I'm in shock and my brain just isn't registering things properly. But when she gasps, I realize I'm right. I healed myself somehow. There's a pleasant rumbling in my cootie that tells me that yes, I did. It's like it’s always known that this healing was deep in it.

Deep in me.

"Oh wow, that's pretty cool," I breathe, smiling, and wiggle my hands. "I didn't know I could do that."

No one knows what to say. Harlow returns a frantic moment later, panting, leaning heavily on Tia, and then there's even more confusion when she realizes I'm not hurt at all. "You're a healer like Maylak?" she asks, clearly astounded.

I don't recognize the name. "Who's Maylak?"

"One of the sa-khui women. She's back at the village and she's the only one I know of that can do this."

"Huh," I say, wiggling my fingers again. I can't stop looking at them. There's a bit of fog in my head, but overall I feel pretty good. Giddy, almost. Like I have an endorphin high. "Maybe we were all imagining it, though? I mean, what if I wasn't all that burned?" I glance up. "Anyone got a blister or a small cut I can fix up?"

"You could try on Pashov," Harlow says quietly. "His head wound."

Oh. I forgot about poor Pashov and the head wound everyone's so worried about. "You think I should? I don't want to make things worse."

"I'm sure you can't make things worse," Hannah tells me with a light smack on my shoulder. "Have some confidence in yourself."

She has a point. "Okay then. Let's ask him if I can give it a shot."

Our little group heads over to the tent where Pashov's resting. Even though I'm not really hurt anymore, Hannah fusses over me and keeps an arm around my waist, as if I'll need the support. I don't, though. That endorphin high is surging through me and I feel so good, I feel like I could do anything, take on anyone, heal everything in my sight.

For the first time in my life, I'm good at something. I'm special.

It's exciting to think about.

"Pashov," Harlow calls softly, scratching her fingers against the flap on his tent. "Are you awake?"

"I am here," he replies, groggy with sleep. "What do you need?" A moment later, he peers out. He looks rough, his dark hair messy around his head. One horn arches high above his craggy brow, but the other is not more than a stump, though I've been told it's growing back. He's got circles under his eyes and a bandage over his head.

"Can…can Veronica look at your head wound? We want to check something. We think she might be a healer."

He grunts and climbs out of the tent, getting to his feet. "Try whatever you like. You cannot make my head any more brittle than it already is."

The big alien looks at me expectantly, and I hesitate, because I've never been a doctor of any kind in the past. "Why don't we go sit by the fire again?" My body is humming with energy and I can practically feel the hurt pouring off of him. I'm itching to get my hands on him, weirdly enough, to see if I can fix what's ailing him. And I can feel that cool, teasing tingle in my limbs, as if my cootie agrees with me. Like we're revving up for the starting line.

Pashov staggers over to the fire, and as he does, I can see blood leaking from the back of his bandage. Harlow looks concerned at how slow he's moving, and I'm practically itching to get my hands on him. Everyone sits down again, and all eyes are on Pashov and on me.

"OK to start?" I ask, moving over to his side and skirting wide around the fire.

He waves a hand tiredly.

All righty then. I hesitate, then put my hands on his neck. I don't know if I have to touch his wound directly—sounds kind of gross and unsanitary to me—so I start there. The moment I do, my skin prickles, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I can feel a sense of wrongness in his body. Curious, I close my eyes and try to concentrate, to follow that sensation to see if I can locate the source. I don't know anything about healing or medicine other than what a doctor charges for an endoscopy, but I'm going to let my cootie guide me.

I take a deep breath and mentally sink in, sliding into that “wrong” feeling. It almost feels like my cootie is connecting with his, the reverberations changing to something completely different than resonance, but still musical. We're speaking on a different level, parasite to parasite, and I wait, letting mine “talk” with his. A sense of peace washes over me, and I try to push that into Pashov, who feels like a big person-sized bruise. My fingertips tingle against his neck, and then it's like my spirit's being pulled into his body. I can feel the wound in his head, deep enough that there's a crack in the thick bone of his skull, and the brain behind it is swollen and bruised. It throbs like a toothache, and I hurt for him.

I want to help.

I'm just…not entirely sure how. My healing was natural. It started on its own, just from me staring at my hands. Is it subconscious, then? I imagine myself as a sculptor, and mentally, I visualize how Pashov's head should be. With my thoughts, I zero in on that crack in his skull and smooth it away, as if it's clay to be molded. It's slow going, but the more energy I push from my body to his, the better it works. Slowly, I can feel it mending, and when the crack has disappeared entirely, I slide my focus to his bruised brain. I can see here where it's healed in the past, where a healer has touched and guided this before. I keep my focus inward, but I don't know how to “sculpt” away a swollen brain, so I visualize his brain as healthy and whole, telling my cootie how it should look. How the brain matter feels and acts when it's healthy. I imagine the “toothache” throb is gone, replaced by soothing calm and quick thoughts. It's harder than mending the bone, so I shove as much mental energy into it as I can, thinking happy things and pushing my will against that of his body.

The throbbing slows and then eventually disappears. The swelling lessens, and then the only angry pulse left is that of my cootie, letting me know it’s tired and can't do any more. All right, I understand. I “slide” out of Pashov's body and lift my hands from his neck, blinking. I feel disoriented and a little topsy-turvy, like I just woke up from a three-day nap.

My head hurts and the endorphins feel like they've all left town, and all that's left is this wrung-out-dishrag sort of feeling. I plop down on one of the rock seats next to Pashov and rub my own brow, suddenly tired. "Did it work?"

"You don't know?" Bridget asks, wrinkling her nose.

Pashov tugs at the bandage on his brow. "My head no longer hurts. If nothing else, I will take that. How does it look?"

I glance over at him and the hollows are gone from under his eyes. The “off” feeling no longer throbs in the air around him, and I feel a sense of accomplishment. I'm not entirely surprised when Harlow gently runs her fingers through his hair and then looks up with surprise. "The wound's gone. You did it, Veronica."

"Neat," I say, and then pass out.

13

ASHTAR

Z olaya annoys me.

After his lecture earlier this morning, he has trailed me all day. I know we are supposed to be searching the beach together for signs of the missing females, but I have no wish to work with him. A gladiator works alone, because a partner will always have his own best interests at heart. I do not understand why he wants to be “friends” or why he tries to be amiable and polite after this morning.

I do not want to talk to him. I do not want to see him, or any of these sa-khui. The only reason I tolerate any of them is because of my Veronica. But as the hours pass, I have time to think, and I find myself wondering if there is a reason we should stay with these people. They seem to think we will all go back to their village together once the missing females are found. And then what? Will they continue to tell me what to do all the time? Insist that I help in tasks I have no interest in, simply because they are for the betterment of the tribe?

I do not care about a “tribe.” I care about Veronica and Veronica only. Perhaps I will take my mate and simply leave the others behind. The former slave in me loves the thought of so much freedom, because even here, it seems I must answer to someone.

But to be completely and utterly free? I like that idea, very much.

I think on this as I search the beach and wade through knee-high water, looking for bodies. I occasionally stab at creatures with tentacles that think to latch on to me, and sometimes I get splashed when a particularly strong wave rolls in. It is not a hospitable place, but it is wide open without a hint of so-called progress—there are no spaceports, no roads, no homes, no skyrises to break up the expanse of the horizon. It is untouched, and appealing because it is so. The air is fresh and clean, without a hint of smog or trash, or the stench of millions of bodies dwelling in close quarters. I do not think Veronica likes it here, but I do.

If she left, I would go with her, but I would miss this place. I do not mind that it is cold or inhospitable. It is open and untouched by society, and after years living in a slave's quarters on one space station after another, it is paradise.

Down the beach, Zolaya waves his spear at me to get my attention.

I ignore him. He has tried to talk to me several times this day and I will have none of it. I continue to search the waters, absently kicking at sand and scanning the distance for missing females that will not be there. Eventually, he jogs to my side. "Let us return to camp for now and see what Vektal plans. If they were here on this beach, we would have found them by now."

I grunt at his words. They make sense, but the rebellious slave in me does not like to be told what to do. I will go in at my own time. "Soon."

He sighs heavily and walks away, heading toward the distant campfire. I remain a bit longer, just to prove that no one has control over me. It feels good. I enjoy being free to do as I please, no matter how petty my actions.

Eventually, the puny suns of this world sink below the horizon and I head back toward the bonfire on the beach. Even though I exerted my independence on this day, I missed my mate. My khui throbs and hums with loneliness, and I hunger to see her face. I need her at my side, my Veronica. It's been too long since I've touched her. Now that my giddiness at being independent has faded, I'm filled with remorse that I've been away from her so long. Tomorrow, I decide, if I must walk the beaches again, I will take her with me.

I arrive back in camp and set my useless spear down. It will never be as good a weapon as a drakoni in battle form, but I have not yet told anyone what I am. Veronica likes me in my two-legged form and is frightened of the beast male, so I will be as “normal” as possible to her until I know she is ready to see me as I truly am. It must be taken one small step at a time. She is human, and as the others have repeated over and over again, there is much that is new to her right now. I would not harm or frighten my mate for anything. So, I wait.

There is a group gathered around the fire and they all eye me warily when I arrive. I do not see my female, though. I glance over head after head and do not see my mate. It is not like her to hide away. "Where is Veronica?"

Vektal comes to my side. He puts a hand on my arm. "Let us talk for a moment."

I shake off his hand, snarling at him. My breath turns to smoke in an instant and I can feel my eyes go black. "Where is my mate?" I grit each word with slow, deadly emphasis. "You cannot keep her from me."

"No one's keeping her from you, damn," Liz pipes up, crossing over to Vektal's side. "Get your panties out of their fucking bunch and listen to the chief, all right?"

"Leezh," Vektal says, holding up a hand. "I have this handled."

She rolls her eyes at him and storms back to her mate, arms crossed.

I push through the crowd around the fire before Vektal can speak, heading toward the rows of tents near the cliffs. The chief stalks at my side, grabbing my shoulder again. "Listen to me. Your mate is fine. But I would speak with you for a moment."

I snarl at him, my khui thrumming in my chest. Relief pinches at my chest at hearing that my mate is all right. "You can speak while I walk," I tell him, heading toward our tent. I see the flap is open, and someone kneels inside on the bedding, but the fat belly is not my mate's…

"Your Vuh-ron-ca is a healer," Vektal says bluntly as he storms through camp, remaining at my side. "Did you know that?"

"I do not know what you mean." I approach the tent, and Harlow looks up at me. As much as I want to get to my mate, I will not harm a pregnant female.

"She fell into the fire earlier," Vektal snaps. My heart stops in my breast until he continues. "She healed herself. She then healed Pashov's head injury. After that, she passed out. We think she healed too much and pushed herself too hard."

A snarl begins in my throat. My mate pushed herself too hard…healing another?

And they let her? They stood by and decided this was wise?

I duck into the tent, shaking off the chief's hand. There, lying in the bed, is my mate. She is utterly still, her khui silent even when mine begins to sing to hers. Harlow holds her hand, stroking it.

"She's just sleeping really deeply," Harlow says in her soft voice. "It's going to be okay, Ashtar. It really is. Maylak gets tired when she overextends herself, too."

I do not know who this Maylak person is. I do not care. I reach over and gather my sleeping mate in my arms. The silence of her khui alarms me. The way she lies so limply in my grip, like she is dead, terrifies me. Her chest rises and falls evenly, but I cannot stop the panic that races through my body.

Or the anger.

They did this to her.

They let this happen. They let her hurt herself to heal their tribesmate.

I take one deep breath, and it comes out as smoke. Another. My rage builds. I cannot remain calm. My battle form itches under my skin, and I no longer fight the urge to transform. With Veronica in my arms, I shift forms, letting my dragon “out.” My body surges, the tent ripping into shreds as I transform, and knocking Harlow and Vektal backwards. With my mate in my arms, I surge on my powerful hind legs and fling myself into the air.

I cannot fly far. With my wings clipped—courtesy of my first slavemaster—I cannot do more than glide a short distance. But my strength is enough to let me fly toward the nearby cliffs and launch myself against the rocky surface. I ignore the frightened cries below and cling to the cliff, Veronica carefully cradled in my arms. I climb higher, moving over the lip to the plateau above and racing away with my mate.

If they will abuse her, they will not have her. Never again.

14

VERONICA

I 'm cold.

More specifically, my backside is cold. My front is toasty warm. I must be sleeping next to Ashtar. I snuggle a bit closer, trying to snare some more of his heat. Instead of touching his chest, though, I find that I'm pressed up against something hard and enormous. Hot, yes. Breathing, yes. But not human. It takes a moment for this to sink in and I slowly open my eyes, blinking. I slept so deeply that I didn't even dream, so I'm disoriented. Healing is apparently hard work, because I feel like I've been completely flattened.

Maybe my brain's been toasted, because I open my eyes and I'm staring at a golden wall. It takes me a moment to realize that it's not exactly a wall, and that pattern isn't a pattern but scales. I reach out and touch one, just to make sure—

And the whole thing shifts. Something moves next to my back—an enormous clawed foot, and overhead, a wing stretches.

Oh god. Oh god.

I scuttle backward on my hands and knees, fighting back the shriek building in my throat. It's a monster. A giant, golden monster.

I…must be dreaming. This can't be real.

Unless this planet has monster dragons on it and no one told me?

The breath seizes in my throat as an enormous, car-sized head lowers to look me in the eye. The head certainly looks like a dragon's, with spiky horns on the frill, a sharp nose leading down to massive fangs and flaring nostrils, and a pair of enormous eyes that whirl between gold and black and blue all at once…

And that makes me pause. Because that reminds me of Ashtar. But Ashtar's not a dragon. He's a…

Wait.

I blink at the scales, which are the same color as his skin. The eyes, which flick back and forth between colors like his do when he's agitated. The creature's easily ten times the size of my Ashtar, and yet…and yet Ashtar said he was a drakoni. And this thing's not eating me like I'm a tasty snack. It looks like it's waiting.

"Um…Ashtar?"

The enormous head moves in and I close my eyes, holding my breath in terror. Now it's going to eat me. Now it's going to…

…nose me?

I squeeze one eye open carefully and sure enough, the thing's nuzzling me. Enormous nostrils, so big I could put a fist into each one, flare and a gust of hot breath whuffs over me. "Hi?" I whisper, still not entirely sure I'm breathing. "It's you," I marvel, reaching up to carefully touch the scales on the snout inches from my face. "What happened? Are you stuck like this?"

A moment later, I'm touching air and Ashtar is kneeling on the snowy ground in front of me. He straightens, completely naked, and walks toward me with lithe grace.

I lower my hand, feeling really stupid. Are you stuck like this? Could I be any stupider? It's clear that Ashtar's people are dragon shifters. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Dumb, dumb Veronica.

"My mate," Ashtar murmurs, moving to kneel at my side. He cups my face, caressing it even as he searches my eyes. "How are you feeling?"

He looks worried. "I'm great. So…funny thing," I say, and give a jaw-cracking yawn. "I have a surprise. Turns out I'm a healer."

"I know. The others told me."

I'm a little disappointed at that. "They did?" I wanted to be the one to tell him. "Spoilsports."

His thumb-claws glide over my cheeks and he gives me a worried look. "You are all right, though?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I squint up at him, surprised. It's awfully cold, the air blustery and windy, and it takes me a moment to realize that we're not at camp. In fact…I'm not entirely sure where we are. I look around and all I see are fields of rocky debris, the occasional scraggly plant, and snow. Lots and lots of snow. "Where are we?"

"On the side of some mountain." He shrugs. "I ran for a while before stopping. I'm not sure it has a name here."

I get to my feet, feeling wobbly like a newborn kitten. Jeez, I'm tired. I'd like nothing more than to curl up in blankets, but there aren't any. "Where did everyone go? Did they leave us behind?" The thought fills me with panic and I reach out for him. "Oh my god, Ashtar, they left us? Why did they leave us? Is it because I'm a healer?" My newfound excitement at my powers turns to crushing disappointment in an instant.

Do they not want a second healer because they have one already? Surely there's room for two.

He shakes his head, pulling me against him. "They did not leave you behind, my fires. I took you and left."

"Took me and left?" I echo. "I don't understand. Why would we leave?"

His jaw clenches and his eyes flick dark, a sign that he's angry. "They let you hurt yourself trying to heal another. I will not allow that."

Oh. I mean, that's sweet, but I'm not sure why he's overreacting like this. "Ashtar, it's all right. I just healed him. Maybe I did too much and that's why I needed a nap, but there's no reason to freak out."

"A nap?" He looks at me incredulously and his arms tighten around me. "You have been asleep for two days straight."

"I…have?" I blink at him, not sure I'm hearing right. "Two days?"

"Yes." His nostrils flare and he looks miserable. He goes stiff for a moment, as if struggling with something, and then pulls me against him, burying one clawed hand in my hair and his face against my neck. "You have been utterly silent for two days. Even your khui did not respond to mine. I wasn't sure if I had lost you."

"Oh." Suddenly I feel terribly guilty. It feels like I took a nap, nothing more…but it explains why I feel so wobbly. "Oh, Ashtar, I'm so sorry you've been worried. I didn't know. But I promise I'm all right." I slide my hands up and down his back, and my cootie begins to purr. "See? Everything's fine."

Actually, everything's more than fine. Now that my cootie's awake, I'm feeling extremely…aroused. It's like it's known that I've been asleep for two days and is making up for lost time. Whatever it is, it's overwhelming. The throb between my legs returns full force, and my nipples are tight against my tunic. I cling to Ashtar, fully aware of how my body is reacting. Right now, dragging him into our tent and exploring his naked body seems like a really great idea…

Except there's no tent.

There's no nothing except the mountainside. I'm not even wearing shoes, and my toes curl up as I realize just how cold it is. "Can we find shelter?"

"Why?" He looks at me curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"It's cold?"

His eyes flare deep gold and he grins at me, sliding his arms around my waist. "Then it is a good thing you have a mate that will keep you warm."

"It's also rocky. And high. Really high. And windy. And did I mention cold?"

Ashtar sighs and presses his forehead to mine. "You did mention such things, yes."

"Can we just rejoin the others already?" They must be worried about us. Not only that, but they must have a million questions about Ashtar and his dragon form. Heck, I'm still not entirely sure it's registered in my mind. I don't know if I've processed that I have a mate, much less the fact that he can turn into a hulking creature of legend.

"Rejoin the others?" He snorts derisively. "No." Ashtar slides one hand up my back, and I can feel his warmth even through my tunic. "You have me. That is all you will need. I will keep you warm. I will feed you."

I push at his grip, because I'm not sure I like what he's saying. "What do you mean, you're all I need? Ashtar, the others are going to worry about us—"

"Let them worry. They let you hurt yourself." His jaw clenches and he gives me a mutinous look.

"No they didn't. I chose to do that."

"And they let you." He's implacable on this point.

Does he assume I'm not capable of thinking for myself? I push lightly at his shoulder. "I'm my own person. And now it seems I'm a healer. They need me."

"No, they don't. You are my mate. Mine." His eyes flare with black and he rumbles low, this time not his khui but a growl of anger.

For some reason, instead of being scared, I'm just irritated. I cross my arms over my chest. "So what I want doesn't matter at all, it seems? Good to know where I stand in this relationship." I turn away from him and sit down on the rocky shale, sliding a few inches on my butt before coming to a stop.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

"Nothing, clearly." I raise my knees and rest my crossed arms on them. "Please, go on thinking for me, Ashtar. You're doing a great job of it right now."

He's silent. I can practically hear the frowns he's lobbing at the back of my head. I don't care. I'm tired (despite sleeping for two days) and I'm cold and there's no place comfortable for me to sit, much less lie down. We don't have any shelter. I guess this is all right for a dragon, but for a human who's still not used to roughing it, this sucks and sucks hard.

It's not that I want to be around the others instead of him. It's that he isn't giving me a choice. And I'm not a fan of roughing it, especially not like this. There's no food, no water, no shelter, and I don't know how to take care of myself on this planet. If he leaves me, I'm helpless.

And I'm mad at him for putting me in this situation.

Silence hovers between us for a long, long time. "I am not apologizing," Ashtar says finally, his tone indignant.

I shrug one shoulder. "That's fine."

He makes a frustrated sound. "I am protecting you!"

"From the other humans? Yes, they're so scary." I continue to stare mutinously ahead. "And they get a warm dinner and a place to sleep out of the wind and I get the side of a mountain with a naked man." I glance over, and my cootie starts up despite my anger, because he really, really is naked.

"I am not backing down on this," Ashtar snarls. "They let you hurt yourself! I will not stand for that! No one demands anything of my mate! No one tells us to stay! If we are free, then we are free! If they don't like it, then they will just have to deal with it!"

I want to point out to him that he might be free, but I'm still at his mercy. I want to throw out the whole “he chose for me and does that make me his slave” thing, but that feels like too low a blow for even me. So I just keep staring ahead at the horizon. It's bleak and gray with winter. The clouds are thick today, hiding the two tiny suns from view, which means it's also cold and blustery. Ahead of us, the horizon is white and white and more white with the endless snow. I see nothing hospitable, and that just crushes my spirit a little more.

This planet is awful, and now I don't even have a tent or a fire.

With a sound of frustration, Ashtar storms to my side, sending rocks skittering down the side of the hill. "You are being impossible, Veronica."

"So are you."

He growls low again. "Tell me what you want from me and I will make it happen. I want you to be happy."

"Then take me back." I know I'm not being ultra-reasonable, but he's not either.

"And let you harm yourself healing one of them again? No. You will stay here with me, where you are safe."

Part of me understands why he's angry. He's still freaked out, and I get that. It hasn't quite sunk in to me yet that I've lost two days, but I can only imagine what he felt like waiting for me to wake up. It's the only reason I haven't lost my shit on him. I feel like I'm about to cry, but I take a few deep, calming breaths. I can do this. It's going to be all right. We'll figure it out. This is temporary.

It has to be temporary.

But right now, there is no helping the fact that he's taken me from one rough situation and brought me to an even rougher one. I stare morosely at the side of the mountain. "Is this where we're staying tonight?"

He pauses, as if startled that I'm not continuing the fight. "You wish to move?"

I rub a hand on my forehead. My head's throbbing and I'm thirsty as heck. And, most terrible of all, I have to pee. The bleak landscape around me offers no relief for any of those things. "I would prefer it, yeah. I feel like I'm going to fall down the side of this mountain." I try to get to my feet, and the rocks slide out from under me, and I thump down on my backside once more. "If you don't want to go back to the others, we need shelter. Food. Privacy of some kind." I look up at him. "Please."

His jaw clenches, and then he storms away a few feet. I try to stand up, terrified that he's leaving, and crash back down again. I can't keep my footing. This just makes him angrier, and he lets out a huff of breath before transforming back to his dragon form.

The surge of his scaly body into the air forces a terrified cry from my lungs. I flinch backward, raising a hand in the air as if that'll protect me. It's instinct, because this is Ashtar. Of course he won't hurt me. Doesn't mean I'm not freaked out, though.

The dragon growls, as if outraged by my fear, and then stalks forward two steps, spilling shale and pebbles down the side of the mountain. I slip too, skidding a few feet and cutting up my hands on the loose rock. My skin tingles and I know it won't be there when I check it, but I'm too busy staring at the enormous dragon looming over me.

Does he…think like a human at all when he turns dragon? Or is he more animal than man? I raise a hand toward his snout. "Nice draggie," I whisper. "Please don't eat me, okay? I'm your mate, remember?"

He snorts in derision, blowing a whuff of hot air over my hair, and then one gigantic clawed hand snags me from my seat atop the rock pile. I half-expect him to take off into the air, but instead, he pulls me close to his scaly chest and begins to move down the side of the mountain on all fours.

Well, threes. He's holding me tight with the other.

As he presses me against his chest, I can hear the very, very faint sound of his cootie deep inside his breast, and my own responds to it. The terror clenching through me slides away. This is still my Ashtar, no matter what form he takes. He won't hurt me. We might be pissy at each other in this moment, but all we've got on this planet is each other. That counts. And when he nuzzles me before moving down the side of the cliff, I still feel loved and cared for despite this.

It's a strange sort of feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

15

ASHTAR

I  wish my wings were not clipped so I could fly.

I've been frustrated with my battle form in the past, but never so deeply as I am right now, as I move over the landscape, my mate jarred with every jostling step, snow blowing into her face and mine. The weather has only gotten worse as the afternoon deepens, and it makes my mood foul. If I could fly, I could soar high above the hills and valleys that cover the rough landscape and see the best place to take my mate. Shelter would be easy to find. As it is, we are confined to the ground and I must plow through the snow, hunting for a safe space to take her.

As it is, I am low on options. And after scaling another round of cliffs only to find more rock below, I am out of patience. I follow scents, instead. I lift my head to the wind, painfully aware of the shivering of my mate huddled against my breast, and follow the scent. It is not a good scent, but it is a strong one. The smell of wet, dirty fur carries on the wind and it will either be one very large, nasty creature, or several small ones. Either way, if it has a home, I mean to take it for my mate.

The scent-trail leads me down into an icy crevasse and to a trail. The trail itself is littered with fecal matter and old urine, and my senses feel assaulted by the stench of whatever it is living here. But down in this icy gorge, the wind is less, and Veronica's shivering decreases.

I'll just have to live with the stink.

A creature appears at the edge of my vision—taller than a human, but thinner. Matted whitish-yellow fur covers it, and it howls at the sight of me, then disappears into a burrow. Aha. I lift my head to scent for other predators, and when I smell none, I gently set my Veronica down on an icy ledge a fair distance from the ground.

"No, wait, Ashtar! Don't leave me here," she pleads, and her terror tears at my chest. Again, I am torn with frustration and indecision. It was my idea to bring her here, but I did not think of how I would care for her. While she slept, I did not need to hunt. While she slept, I did not have to worry about sheltering her because my drakoni form would be everything she needed. But there is no food or water on the cliffs, and I cannot talk to her like this. My wild stabs at mental communication meet with nothing.

She needs a den. I will have to let her have a few moments of terror—though it destroys me inside—so I can find a safe place for her to rest. Then I will figure everything else out.

I nuzzle my frightened mate, trying to reassure her, because I cannot leave her when she trembles like this. Her khui sings a frantic song, and mine rumbles in response, only adding to my anxiety.

"You won't leave me, will you?" she begs, her voice breaking. "You're coming back, right?"

I run my muzzle down her front, trying to reassure her.

To my surprise, she puts out her fists. "Left fist for yes, right fist for no, okay? At least give me that much, if you can understand me."

I nose her left fist.

"Shit." She stares down at her fists. "Your left or mine. Okay, scratch that. Blink once for yes, you're coming back for me. Twice for 'go fuck yourself, Veronica'."

Despite the tension of our situation, a laugh rumbles up in my belly. I blink once, slowly, and then nuzzle her again, because her scent is glorious, and the one coming from the cave is not. Then, I have to leave her behind. This time, when I move away, she doesn't cry out for me to stay. Perhaps she understands that I have no choice, and she knows I'll be back for her.

I approach the source of the scent and am revolted to find a den, all right. It opens up at the base of one of the cliffs, nestled between the rocks and the earth. It is a den, but not what I wanted. This place is caked with droppings and old bits of fur and the carcasses of half-eaten creatures. Blue, glowing khui eyes gaze up at me. It is more of the dirty, furry white things that cower just beyond the opening, having decided that leaving is a bigger threat than staying. They do not know I have fire, then. I breathe a long, flaming rush of it into the entrance of the cave, then step back and wait.

They race past me, screeching, scattering in a rush of stink and more urine. There must be twenty of the creatures that flood out of the burrow, and I head back to make sure that they avoid where my Veronica waits. She clings to the crevasse wall, watching with wide eyes. None pay attention to her, though. They are too busy fleeing for their lives. Good. I wait for all of them to escape out of the canyon, the last of them loping after a big one with a baby on its back. They leave an equally disgusting trail behind them and I flame the entrance again, trying to burn away the stench and chase out any stragglers. When no one else comes out, I dip my head inside and look around.

It's full of feces. Feces, and bones. I pull back, revolted, and give my head a shake of disgust. I can't bring my mate in there. I'm not entirely sure what to do now. This…was not a good plan. I have never had to be on my own like this, though, and I know nothing about this planet. In my world, water comes from a spigot, and food comes from a slavemaster. I don't know how to take care of my mate.

Briefly, I think about chasing down one of the creatures and flaming it so she'll have meat to eat, but the thought turns my stomach. Veronica won't want to eat that. I have eaten terrible slop in my day, and even I would not eat that.

I return to where my mate waits, uncertain what to do. I pull her gently down from the ledge and nuzzle her sweet-smelling hair, filling my senses with her. I hate the feeling that I have failed her. I don't want to take her back, because a misbehaving slave is always punished. If they know how badly I need her, they will try to take her from me to keep me in line.

I can't let that happen.

"Is everything okay?" Veronica asks, tapping at my foreleg with one hand. "Are you all right?"

I set her down on the ground and then shift back to my two-legged form. My eyes sting from the stink of the creatures, and I swipe at them absently. "There is a den," I tell her. "But I do not think you want to go into it."

She wrinkles her delicate nose. "If it's anything like the rest of this valley…"

"Worse," I admit.

"Then no, I don't want to go into it." She rubs her arms absently, glancing around. "Maybe we could stay farther down? It's not so cold now that the wind isn't constantly beating on us."

"If you like." I gesture, indicating she can lead the way.

Veronica picks her way through the narrow gorge, her boots crunching in the fine layer of snow over ice and rock. This place is not much more hospitable than the one we just left, and it stinks and is filthy. Eventually, she turns and bites her lip, glancing at me. Her gaze flicks down to my naked body and her cheeks flush. "Are you cold?"

"Me? No." I shrug. "My people have fire in their souls. The weather does not bother me. What of you?"

"I'm okay," she admits, and then wrinkles her nose again. "This place is kind of gross. What were those things?"

"Nothing smart," I tell her. "Intelligent creatures do not den in their own waste." Of course, I say that, and then I think of some of the slave cages I've lived in during the past. "Not all intelligent creatures," I amend. "But I do not think they were."

"I don't know much about this planet," she admits to me softly, crossing her arms under her breasts. "But I bet the suns are going to go down in another hour or so and we're going to need a fire because it's going to get colder. The weather might not bother you, but I'm not quite used to it."

"A fire," I echo. "That is easy."

"It is?"

I extend a hand and then blow a bit of smoke and just a tiny hint of flame out of my nostrils. Even in my two-legged form, this is as easy as breathing.

"Oh." She blinks. "Wonderful. Now we just need something to burn." Veronica looks at me expectantly.

"I…have nothing." I look around, but there's nothing here except a few scraggly plants that cling between the rocks and wouldn't last longer than a few minutes.

"We'll figure something out," she reassures me, moving closer and patting my arm. "Don't worry about it."

She is trying to reassure me, and her kind heart just makes me feel like a failure as a protector. I am not worthy of her. The feeling of despair only deepens when her stomach growls. "You are hungry," I say flatly.

"And thirsty, but it can wait." She looks around the smelly canyon again. "I would say I could eat a handful of snow, but…not from around here. Also, and this might sound stupid, but I would really like somewhere private to potty." She shifts her weight on one foot, then the other, and then looks at me expectantly.

"Pot-tee?" Even my translator doesn't recognize the word.

Her cheeks turn bright red. "Bathroom? Pee? Uh, void? Make waste? God, this is the unsexiest conversation ever." She puts a hand to her forehead. "Shall I go on?"

"No, I know what you mean." It is yet another thing I didn't think of. Of course she wants privacy…and there is absolutely none to be had.

"So where can I go? Because it's getting urgent."

I look around the smelly, smelly canyon, and then gesture wide, indicating that she can go anywhere. After all, the creatures certainly have.

Veronica's expression grows startled, then a horrified giggle escapes her. She presses her fingers to her lips, but she just keeps laughing. "It's not funny," she says between snickers, and then just keeps laughing harder.

I laugh, too, because our situation is ridiculous. Here we are on an alien planet, trying to find shelter, and all we find are this land's equivalent of shit factories. Here I am, trying to impress my mate, and I just told her to crap in a gorge. "This is a terrible place."

"I hate it here," she admits, laughing so hard that water streams out of her eyes. "I really, really do."

And that makes my laughter stop. Because even though it's cold here and I don't know this place and the locals are pushy…I don't hate it here. I have freedom. I have the entire world to explore if I so choose. I am without collar, without master, and without boundaries.

I love it, and it makes me sad that she does not. "Is it so awful being here with me?"

Her laughter dies away and she slowly shakes her head. "Oh. No, Ashtar. It's not awful being here with you at all." She moves forward and cups my face, then draws me close to her. I'm fascinated by what she's going to do, so I let her pull me down against her, curious. All she does is brush her lips over mine, though.

Huh.

She gives my cheek a pat. "I'm serious about using the bathroom, though. Give me five minutes and then we'll go somewhere else. I don't think I want to stay here."

Me, either. I know I want more brushes of her mouth over mine, though.

I WAIT at the entrance to the gorge to give my mate some privacy. She returns a few moments later, scrubbing her hands with fresh snow and her cheeks bright pink. "Survival is the most humiliating situation," she tells me. "Swear you won't share this with a soul."

"Share what?"

She puts a finger to the side of her nose and points at me, and I have no idea what she's gesturing about. But her mood is good and we are out of that smelly canyon, so I'm willing to go anywhere with her. "Where now?"

Veronica puts her hands on her hips, scanning the environment. She flicks her gaze over me and my nudity, her cheeks flushing, and then distinctly looks away. "How much do you know about survival?"

"The only survival I know of is not to come in last during the arena games," I admit. "That is as extensive as my knowledge."

"Mmm. Well, let's solve one problem at a time. Shelter is probably the most pressing one." She glances up at me. "How did you keep me warm while I was unconscious?"

"I stayed in battle form and curled around you."

"Battle form? You mean dragon?" When I shrug, she taps a finger on her lips, thinking, and I am reminded of how it felt to have her mouth against mine. "We can do that again if we have to, but let's see if we can find someplace better anyhow. Let's focus on something else, then—either food or water. Humans can live a long time without food but not so long without water." Veronica glances around. "Considering this is an ice planet, I'd say we're okay on water, provided we find a relatively clean spot to grab some snow from. I've always been told not to eat snow, but I'm guessing you can always melt it for me if we find a container of some kind."

I will let her drink from my cupped hands if she must.

She continues to tap on that fascinatingly pink mouth. "So that leaves us with…food. I'm not eating whatever those creatures were." She shudders. "Hungry, but not that hungry."

I say nothing. I don't like that she is hungry at all. I feel like it is my fault, that I am failing her somehow.

My lovely mate tilts her head, studying me. "You're fast on all fours. You could go hunting without me, you know—"

"No." I know my answer before she even finishes her sentence. "Absolutely not."

"You could leave me here—"

"No," I repeat. There are a million things that could go wrong if I left her alone. The creatures could come back. New creatures could come here, drawn by my mate's enticing scent. The blustery storms could get worse. She could fall and hurt herself—and that is more likely than anything. Since I have not given her my fires, we have no mental connection. If I get lost I cannot find her by the touch of her mind.

She is not leaving my sight.

Veronica gives me an exasperated look but doesn't argue. "Okay then. Can you hunt with me in your arms? Like we traveled?"

"Not well," I admit. "Unless we find a slow or lame creature, I won't be able to move quickly enough." Especially because too fast and I could risk dropping her.

"Hmm." Veronica keeps thinking. "It's a shame we can't go fishing."

I pause. She's clever, my mate. Fishing would solve so many problems. I can fish with her safely nearby, and if the water is fresh we can drink it as well. "Why can't we?"

"Because ice?"

I shake my head. "I crossed a wet stream recently. It was warm. Smelled like sulphur."

"A hot spring?" She looks excited. "That could be food and water. We should go for it."

All we can do is try. I nod and shift forms, then gather her in my arms. I send another mental push of thought at her, just because I'm longing to talk mind-to-mind. She rubs her forehead absently but doesn't acknowledge my attempt at communication. It's like I'm almost connecting, but not quite.

But…what if I give her my fires and she still cannot speak to me with minds? What if humans have no such ability? The disappointment would be crushing. Mind-to-mind is the most intimate thing a drakoni can experience, and to not be able to share that with my Veronica would be devastating.

I pull her close to my scales, wondering if I am setting myself up for disappointment.

16

VERONICA

F ishing is…an adventure.

We find a hot stream, all right. We also find, when I go stand near the bank, that piranha-like fish are hiding in the reeds—or are the reeds—and one nearly chews my damn face off. I manage to stumble backwards when I realize that something at the edge of the water is alive, and that's the only thing that saves me from being a tasty fish snack.

Ashtar stays in his dragon form and splashes in and out of the water, snagging fish with his claws. Some of the smaller ones elude his grasp, but he's able to toss a few bigger ones onto the bank with quick reflexes, and they flop there miserably until they die. I feel awful for killing them, but I have to remind myself that this isn't like back home. Long John Silver isn't going to show up with a drive-thru and a menu. If we want to eat, we have to kill things. And once Ashtar cuts off the heads and guts them (with a bit of pointing and instruction from me), he roasts them with a slow, steady flame. After that, it smells like any other fish, and it tastes delicious.

Water's a bit more of a struggle. Since the stream's teeming with fish, we opt for fresh snow on a nearby snowbank that doesn't look like it's been trampled or touched by any sort of creature. Ashtar cups his claws into a 'bowl' of sorts, melts the snow, and I sip it from his hands.

My cootie likes that part, a lot. I try not to blush thinking about how vulnerable it makes me. There's nothing sexy about survival, I remind myself. Lots of necessary things, but not many sexy things.

Still, I'm really glad that if we have to be on our own, I'm with Ashtar and not someone else. I know he more or less kidnapped me, but I'm not angry about that anymore. His heart was in the right place, and it's clear from his extremely protective nature that he's trying to take care of me, especially if he thinks someone else is abusing me. I have to remind myself that he was a slave and he's not human and his reactions to situations won't match mine.

We have to be patient with each other, I tell myself. And if we don't go back to the tribe tonight, we know where they're at. Plenty of time to go back. For now, I can be kind and try to put myself in Ashtar's shoes…or his arms. My cootie throbs at the thought.

After I'm full of fish and my thirst has been quenched, we relax near a couple of tumbled boulders on the far side of the stream. The suns are going down and I know Ashtar's going to have to change forms soon, but he doesn't seem like he's in a hurry, and I'm in no rush, either. It's brisk but not terrible, and he sits close enough to me that his incredible body heat spills over to me. I'm tired from the long day, and when he slides an arm around my waist and tucks me against his side, I go eagerly, leaning against him.

Despite the situation, the world seems…not so bad right now. I'm fed, I'm warm, and I've got a cootie purring in my breast that's connected me to the sexiest man on the planet. Everything else will work itself out. I put my head on his shoulder and stare up at the sky. It's cloudy and I can't see the stars, which is disappointing. I've not yet sat down and looked at the stars in this place. Figures that the one time I do, it's cloudy. I wonder if they're the same as Earth's stars. I wonder if I'd even be able to tell a difference. I tilt my head slightly so I can look over at Ashtar. "What was your planet like?"

"Hm?" He turns his head and then our mouths are so close they're practically touching. It's distracting, in a delicious way. "My planet?"

I nod.

"What I remember of it was very dry. Hot. Desert-like. Lots of sand. Lots of mountains." He reaches over and caresses my face lightly, his claws grazing over my skin in the barest of touches. "But I don't remember much of it."

"Because you were taken to be a slave."

"Yes. They stole me from my bed while I slept, put a collar on me, and forced me to shift so they could clip my wings."

"Your wings are clipped," I echo. I'm so stupid. Of course his wings are clipped. He's a dragon and he hasn't flown once. I've been too lost in my own thoughts to pay attention to something like that. I'm embarrassed that I'm so self-absorbed to not realize this.

"Yes. They made a few cuts at the tendons to separate muscle from the sail and it healed badly. I can glide short distances, but other than that, my wings are useless." His expression goes distant, and I can tell he's unhappy. It's a bad memory.

"That's terrible," I tell him softly, reaching over and rubbing his thigh to comfort him. It's a very private sort of touch, but I think we've moved past being shy about that sort of thing. After all, we're snuggled together and he's completely naked. And because of resonance, every time I look over at him, he's got a hard-on. He's never pressed me for sex—not yet—but it has to be on his mind. I know it's on mine.

He grunts, a non-answer. "I cannot change the past. My captors took me at a young age, before I even had my trials of adulthood and learned to breathe fire. That did not work for them, so they found another old drakoni slave and had him blood me with my first kill so I could breathe fire. But wings? To my masters, wings were a problem, so they have been like this, always. I am used to it. I would love to fly again, but if it is not meant to be, it is not meant to be."

An idea flashes through my mind, and I can feel my fingers get that cool tingle coursing through them. "What if I tried to heal it? Would you let me?"

Ashtar gazes at me, and again, our mouths are so very close. "For you, I would do anything."

Oh. His breath brushes over my skin, warm and wonderful. I can see his attention focus on my mouth, and then he looks at me once more. I want him to kiss me, but he makes no move toward me, and I'm frustrated. Not human, I remind myself. Maybe his people don't kiss. He certainly seemed surprised when I kissed him earlier. I bite my lip, and when his attention goes there, I reach out and caress his jaw lightly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Of course." He pauses. "What is a kiss?"

Yeah, I suspected as much. "I'll show you," I whisper, and then lightly brush my lips over his again.

Ashtar remains perfectly still as I kiss him, and he doesn't pull away, but he doesn't take the initiative, either. I kiss him again, sliding my hand to the back of his neck and turning so we're facing each other a little more. I move my lips over his again, coaxing his mouth open a little wider with tiny nips and nibbles, indicating that I'm not going anywhere fast. Kisses are meant to take time, to be slow and delicious, and I'm going to show Ashtar just what I like…and hope that he likes it, too.

"Your mouth is soft," he murmurs.

"Is that good?" Now I'm imagining hard-mouthed golden-skinned females and wondering if I don't hold up in comparison.

"Very." He lightly caresses my lips with his, a feathery touch that makes me shiver all over. "I am glad that you kissed me, my Veronica."

This precious, precious man. Does he think that's all that kissing is? Just a quick, fluttery peck? "Can I keep going?"

"Is there more?" He nods, his nose nudging mine. "Show me how your people declare they wish to court. I want to learn how to please my mate."

His mate. My heart races to hear that, and it's practically thrumming as fast as my cootie now. My nipples are achingly hard against the thick, fur-lined leather of my tunic, and I wish I could strip it off so he could touch me. I'm pretty sure that's just the resonance talking.

Maybe.

Or maybe I love how he looks at me, and crave more of it like some wild, wanton creature. I don't hate that thought. I lightly nip at his lower lip, letting my teeth sink in ever so slightly. It's the world's gentlest bite…and it gets a reaction. He groans, and I feel his body stiffen under mine.

Hot desire pulses through me. I can feel heat pooling between my thighs, and I know if I press them together, I'm going to feel just how slippery I'm getting. It doesn't take much to turn me on, not with Ashtar around. Not with resonance stoking this fire between us.

I lick at the small bite I've given him, and he inhales deeply. I love how he reacts to my touches. It's incredible to think that this big, sexy, powerful man—the handsomest guy on the planet—loves my kisses.

Me, plain, boring Veronica who's about as exciting as beige wallpaper. Ashtar doesn't think I'm boring, though. He's singled me out from day one as if I'm the hottest woman on this planet and he'll die to have me. That's a heady feeling. Even before the cootie, he wanted me.

It makes it a lot easier to forgive the fact that he's stolen me away when I think about that.

So I kiss him again, teasing his lower lip before giving it another nip. I lick the bite again, and then graze my tongue against the seam of his mouth. He gives a low, rumbling groan in response, and one hand tightens around my waist. "Humans kiss with lips and tongue," I explain to him softly. "Can I do that to you?"

"I am yours."

Those three fervent little words make me quiver with delight. I kiss him again, and this time I take it all the way. I slick my tongue against his parted lips, and when he opens wider, I lap at his tongue, playful and sensual all at once. His grip tightens on me and then I feel his tongue move against mine. I moan into his mouth, because he's like kissing fire. I've kissed guys before, but kissing Ashtar is different. Everything's different with him.

Then, it's like he's been set free. His tongue plays along mine, flicking and exploring, and he quickly takes the lead with the kiss. For a guy that didn't know what it was a few minutes ago, he's really good with his tongue. It glides against mine in a teasing dance, and then he lightly sucks on the tip of my tongue.

Oh god. Fast learner. I'm in such trouble.

Now Ashtar's the aggressor, and his mouth slants over mine, claiming and caressing, his tongue plundering my lips. Where I was light and playful, he's deep and possessive, and it makes me so incredibly aroused I feel like my leathers might spontaneously combust. He ends the kiss and I moan as he uses those fangs and nips at my lower lip. "I can smell your mating scent on the air, Veronica. Your cunt is juicy and ready for me, isn't it?"

I gasp, quivering. No one's ever spoken so boldly to me before. "You can smell that on the air?"

He rubs his nose against mine, his heavy-lidded eyes whirling with deep gold, blue and black. "A drakoni has a strong sense of smell, my mate. I can scent everything about you…and I can't wait to taste your cunt."

Oh. I think of the times he's approached me in the past. I like your smell. I didn't realize he meant…that smell. "I can't believe you can smell that."

A toothy grin stretches over his face. "You can't hide how you feel from me. If this didn't tell me," he says, boldly patting the top of my chest, where my cootie's purring like a well-fed cat, "then your intoxicating scent would."

I can feel myself blushing. There's no hiding my scent, not if he can pluck it from the air. But even so…I'm not sure if I'm ready to mate. Not yet. Not with no shelter or blankets—or a shower—in sight. "Is it okay if all we do tonight is kiss?"

One big hand strokes up and down my back. "We shall go as slow or as fast as you like, my Veronica. I am yours to command."

He might be mine to command, but I'm painfully aware of just how aroused he is. His cock juts up between us like a third party at the dance. "It's not going to hurt you if we wait?"

Ashtar laughs at that, throwing his head back. "I have waited thirty years. What is one more night? Or a dozen?"

I blink at that. "Did you just say thirty years? You've never—"

"Never," he says swiftly. He reaches up and cups my cheek, the look in his flickering eyes intense. "I was never a slave chosen for breeding. Once, I would have loved such an honor, but now I am relieved. I am glad my heart waited for yours."

I'm not sure his heart has as much to do with it as his cootie, but it's a sweet thing to say. I'll take it. I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss.

17

ASHTAR

I  sleep that night, curled around my mate to give her my warmth. Though we have spent several nights like this, she was unconscious for the others. The difference is apparent to me as she tosses and turns, shivering and moving closer to me whenever she gets too cold. She is right—humans need shelter from the weather, and I worry I should not have taken her from the others after all.

I will not admit such a thing, though.

My mate is in a cheery mood the next morning. She does a few stretches to get the “kinks” out of her back, and then she pounces on me with enthusiasm, demanding to heal my wings. She cannot wait to try her powers once more. I make her eat a morning meal of charred fish first, because she needs her strength and it is my duty as her mate to take care of her.

So I shift back to my battle form and gently take her in my claws. Like this, my mate goes from “dainty” to “miniscule,” and I worry I will hurt her with my size and strength. I take extra care to place her neatly atop one shoulder and she roughly hauls her way up to sit between my wings.

"Damn alien turns into a dragon," she mutters as she gets comfortable, shifting her weight on my shoulder blades. "What else are you keeping from me?"

Her words are a joke, but they make me uncomfortable. I think of my people and their mating rituals. I cannot remember if I told her of my bite…but I know I have not told her of the mental bond between us that will be created. That we will be as one in spirit, and that I will know all of her emotions, her most private thoughts. It will link us so we can communicate from across distances…but it will also strip her of her privacy. As a slave who is still becoming used to the idea of having independence, this loss of privacy is something I am painfully aware of. I do not want Veronica to tell me no…

So I simply do not tell her. I will not until I have given her my fires and she is mine. It will be done at that point and there will be no chance of losing her. Is it wrong to not warn her? Probably. I do not care, though. I will take no chance that my Veronica does not go through with our mating. She already struggles with the idea of being bonded to me. Adding another layer to that will not help matters.

I will simply deal with her anger later.

My mate takes a deep breath and then goes quiet. Her hands touch my shoulders, where my wings meet my scales, and her khui begins to hum. It is not the “song” of a mating khui, but a different pitch and tone. Mine answers, but it is sluggish and almost disinterested in its response. Whatever power her healing gives her, it is clear my khui does not feel the same.

I remain quiet and still as she works, her hands twitching against my scales. Other than that, she is completely still and does not speak. The wind howls around us, and I wonder if my mate is cold, but the hands on my scales are warm with heat, so I do not interrupt her. When she is quiet for a very long time and the tiny twin suns crawl high in the sky, I start to worry. I think of how she passed out for two entire days and wonder if she is over-exerting herself again. Should I nudge her to shake her free of her trance, or will that make things worse? My wings feel no different, and her hands have not moved from my shoulders.

Suddenly, she lets out a loud, gusty sigh. "Well, crap." The strange song of her khui ends and she pats my scales. "Help me get down?"

I stretch one foreleg forward, lowering my body to the ground as much as possible so she can slide down. She thumps to the ground—and then lands on her face, sputtering. I swallow my sigh and pick my poor, clumsy mate up and set her upright, nuzzling her. My Veronica. She would never last a day in the gladiator arenas, and it makes me all the more protective of her. Perhaps that is why the khui gave her to me—I can be the protective, fierce one. She can be the nurturer, the sweetness to my rage. I like this.

She wipes wet snow from her face, frowning. "Sorry about that. You want to change back so we can chat? We need to talk about what I found out."

I immediately shift to my two-legged form, and she gasps in surprise and nearly stumbles backward. I manage to catch her arm and hold her up, and her face goes bright red when she realizes my naked body is pressed against hers.

"So," she says, and her voice goes up to a high, squeaky note. "That was interesting."

"Was it?" I brush her hair back from her face, far more interested in how lovely she is than mending my wings. After all, I have long gotten used to the idea of them being a lost cause.

"Turns out that there's nothing to heal," Veronica tells me, spreading her hands. She looks a little tired, but her eyes are bright with excitement, and it's clear she loves healing and learning her powers. "It's hard to explain. It's like when I go into a trance, I dig into your body's cootie, looking for it to tell me where and how you're hurt. It's like I'm talking to it and directing it where to go and what to do, instead of actually healing you. And with you…your cootie is there, and I can talk to it, but it doesn't recognize that there's anything to heal. To it, that's how your wings should be."

Even though I've long gotten used to the fact that my wings are useless, I still find myself curling my lip at the thought. This is how my wings “should” be. I hate the thought. I hate that these destroyed, wasted things are normal in my khui's perspective. That this is all I can hope for. I let out a derisive snort, and for a brief moment, I am glad that my Veronica and I do not share a mind-link yet, because I do not want her to feel my shame.

She deserves better.

"But," my mate continues, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. She reaches out and grabs my hand in hers. "I had this crazy idea…"

"What is it?"

"I can see the old scars along your wings. The gaps in the sail." She spreads her fingers, mimicking the fine bones of my wings, and then points at dips near the webbing of her fingers, where my wings were cut. "What if I were to cut them again, and so there would be a wound there, right? Then I can heal that wound." She blinks for a moment, and when I'm silent, her shoulders slump. "It's crazy, right? Tell me I'm crazy. Making cuts and hurting you just to try and heal something that—"

I put a hand to her lips to stop the words before they tumble out. "I say yes."

Veronica stares at me in shock. Her tongue flicks against the backs of my fingers, probably to force me to pull my hand away, but all it does is remind me that I crave this female and I am desperate to give her my fires. Even now, my fangs ache with the need to distend. My cock is completely erect and my khui hums and sings to my nearby mate. "You didn't say I was crazy," she murmurs, her voice husky and her eyes soft as she gazes at me.

"Because you are not. What you propose makes sense."

"But I might hurt you." She bites down on her lip and looks distressed. "What if I cut you up and it's for nothing? These abilities are new and I'm not entirely sure it'll work. Are you sure you trust me that much? I'm not exactly anyone's first choice to wield a knife."

"Of course I trust you." I reach out and caress her delicate jaw, cup her cheek. I want to touch her all over, but for now, I will settle for this. My khui sings even more fiercely when she leans into my touch and closes her eyes. Not yet, I tell myself. Not until she is ready. Not until she is done with her healing, because I will not drain too much strength from her at once.

Because once she falls into my arms, she is not leaving there for a long, long time. I am going to claim my mate over and over again, marking her with my scent until there will be no doubt that she is completely and utterly mine.

My Veronica, of course, isn't thinking about mating nearly as much as I am. She ignores the singing of her khui and gives me an excited look. "Let's get started, then! I need to make a knife of some kind so I can cut your wings. I saw Harlow had one that was made of rock that she chipped into a blade. We should do something like that."

I pull her into my lap, too distracted by her nearness. "You spent a long time trying to heal. You should rest." She has smudges under her eyes that show her fatigue, and I won't let her tax herself. "I will work on the knife. Soon."

"Oh, but…" Her words trail off as I run my claws through the waves of her dark hair. She gives a little shiver and stops protesting, her hands moving to my shoulders. Her gaze meets mine and she gives me a shy look. "Some of this is still pretty new to me."

"To me as well. I did not think I would have a mate," I admit. "Most gladiators do not live very long. I accepted that I would die a brutal death in the pit on some distant, dirty planet." I lightly caress her cheek with my claws, tracing them over that fragile skin. "I cannot say I am unhappy with the turn my life has taken."

"Will you miss your old life?" Veronica asks, breathless. Her lips remain parted, and her gaze seems to be focused utterly on my mouth. She thinks about more kisses, I imagine, and I like the thought of that.

"Miss it? Does one miss a broken tooth? A split claw?" I snort. "I enjoy fighting, but I do not enjoy being the plaything of others. I do not miss being a slave." I trail my fingers through her hair again and then lift it to my nose to drink of her scent. "And I certainly do not regret that I am here with you."

She breathes out and her gaze flicks to mine. That's all the warning I get before her mouth plants on mine once more, and then we are kissing wildly. Her breasts press up against my chest, the thick leathers of her clothing hiding the feel of her body.

I groan, wrapping my claws in her soft hair and pinning her against me. Hot, delicious mating violence surges through me, and I resist the urge to pin her down, to force her onto her back so I can mount her and claim her as mine. She's not ready for that. Not yet. I stroke my tongue into her mouth in a bold, claiming sweep, and then break the kiss before I can forget myself. "You need to rest."

She blinks at me without understanding. "Huh?"

I caress her face, letting my thumbs lightly graze the tired smudges under her eyes. It brings my claws close to her eyes, but there is no fear in her when I do so. She trusts me, and that fills my heart with joy. "You need to rest. Your healing this morning took a great deal out of you." She opens her mouth to protest, and I put a finger over her lips—any excuse to touch her. "Do not say otherwise. I can see it on your face. As your mate, it is my duty to take care of you and protect you, even if you do not think you need protecting."

Veronica blushes, her cheeks coloring bright red. "I'm fine, really."

"And you will be finer after a nap," I insist, tucking her against my body to share my warmth. I am learning my mate, and I suspect that one reason why she is always tripping and falling over her own feet is that she does not think ahead—she simply surges forward without conscious thought. I do not want her to treat her healing the same, because I suspect it can easily take too much out of her.

I won't let Veronica hurt herself. Not at my expense, or at the expense of any others. She comes first in all ways.

My lovely human grumbles a little, tucking her face against my chest as I cradle her in my arms. Her legs are slung over my lap, and my cock throbs a reminder that it would not take much to rip the clothes from her body and claim her. I ignore it, though with every day that passes, my khui feels more and more insistent. I suspect this will only get worse instead of better…but we have time yet.

I would rather mate than have her work on healing my wings, but I know Veronica would have a different perspective.

Even as I ponder such things, her breathing evens out and she goes slack against my chest. She is asleep again, in that deep, dreamless sleep that healing-exhaustion sends her to. I do not panic this time, though I still do not like it. I merely hold her and stroke her hair, imagining what our young will look like. I picture a child with my scales and her wavy brown mane. Her smile. Her soft, lovely eyes that show every emotion.

Holding her, imagining such things, I feel such piercing joy that it's staggering. There is no arena in my future any longer. There is no death, no violent fights or rivals to overcome. There is only Veronica. Veronica and her smiles and her cold hands and Veronica drooling on my chest as she sleeps, like she does right now.

I remember once that I met a very old slave - a szzt male who had gone through so many battles that his hard skin was striated with old scars and the fierce orange color of his hide had paled to a faint yellow. He was given his freedom and retirement after many, many years of serving his master faithfully and winning so many arena fights that he was legendary. Every gambling den knew of this great honor. I thought it was a waste. I remembered feeling sorry for him, because what life does an ex-slave have once his only reason for living—fighting—is taken from him? And I was not surprised to hear that the former slave suicided a short time later. Of course he did. I remember never wanting to end up like him.

And yet…with Veronica in my arms, thoughts of the arena are far from my mind. I do not care if I never fight another again, or if I grow old and feeble with time and my scales bleach to a pale white with age. As long as Veronica is with me, none of that matters.

Strange how a life can completely change with the introduction of a mate.

VERONICA SLEEPS HEAVILY, not stirring even when I ease her out of my arms and tuck her as carefully onto the ground as possible. I don't like that I have to leave her lying in the snow and in the open. I remember how she shivered last night. I cannot keep her out here. Not like this. She needs shelter. Warmth. Blankets. I can provide protection and food, but not much more than that, and I hate that I am so helpless. Perhaps we should have stayed longer, if only to glean information from the others on how to survive on this planet. If I was alone, I would be fine.

But I have Veronica with me, and she changes everything.

I want to find fish for her, but her sleeping place is too far from the stream and I will not leave her side. Instead, I carefully move a safe distance away, shift to battle form, and stretch my useless wings. With one carefully shielding her from the wind, I search the nearby rocky ledges, looking for something that will serve as a knife. The stone here is flaky, and I pry at pieces with my claws until I find one that looks sharp and dangerous enough to use as a cutting tool. Of course, given my Veronica, it would not take much to make a dangerous implement. I could hand her a blunt stone and she would find a way to cut herself with it.

Perhaps that is another reason to go back to the others. There will be others to watch her, to make sure that she is safe so I can go out and hunt to feed my mate. I want to spend every moment with her, but I know that is not feasible. If there were others nearby…

But if there were others nearby, they might take her from me.

MY MATE WAKES up from her nap, eats, and then immediately starts on my wing. I spread it on the ground, doing my best to remain utterly still as she hacks at it with her rock-chip knife. Each gouge into the membrane doesn't hurt much, but the tearing sounds and the pulling on my wings make it difficult to suppress shudders. Veronica clucks under her breath and makes soothing little sounds as she cuts at my wing, and I think she is more upset at hurting me than I am.

Once she cuts open old wounds, she goes into her trance, and my wing gets alternately hot, then cold. My khui hums with a different song than the mating one, and I can hear hers humming as well. I lay my head down, turned toward my mate so I can watch over her, and wait. She's utterly still, her eyes closed and her brow lightly dewed with sweat, her hands moving over one ripped-open sail. As I watch, she pushes the membranes together, and almost as if my wings are made of clay, they slowly—agonizingly slowly—knit back together as her khui pulses a song.

When she has finished mending the last of the wounds she's inflicted upon the one wing, she opens her eyes and smiles at me. "Fingers crossed that works."

And then she topples over into another deep slumber.

I expect this, but it still worries me. I know she has pushed herself hard, and I pull her close to my breast and hold her as she sleeps. She sleeps through the afternoon and on through the night. The next morning, she wakes up, hungry, tired, but ready to take on my other wing. I make her rest through another nap before I'll let her, because I don't want her to push quite so hard, but with every restful sleep she takes, she seems to need less time to recover.

Even so I remain worried. I study my mended wing as she sleeps, and it feels…better. Less tight. I might be able to fly after all, though I won't give it a try just yet. She needs to rest and I won't leave her…and only one wing has been mended as of yet. That is not what worries me, though. It's her growing power. It would be a hot commodity on the slave market. I think of my prior owners, and how their slaves were treated. Someone as beautiful as my Veronica, with the power her hands hold? She would be worth billions upon billions of credits. If anyone were to ever find out that she is here…

More than ever, I am glad the ship was destroyed. Vektal and the other sa-khui say that their planet is remote and they do not expect more visitors, but I will need to talk with Veronica, to ensure that she does not share her powers unless she absolutely must. If that means lying to the rest of the motley “tribe” on the beach, so be it.

I suspect she will not like my suggestion, though.

18

ASHTAR

T  his time, when Veronica wakes up, she's yawning and sleepy, but ready to eat. We almost have a pattern, her and I. I haul my mate into my claws and take her down by the stream. I chase off the fanged fish with a breath of fire over the long reed-like poles that jut from the water and are attached to the fish's faces as part of their camouflage. Once they are clear, Veronica takes a quick bath, splashing water on herself to clean off while I extend a wing over her to protect from the wind and monitor the waters carefully for aggressive fish. Once she's dressed and on the shore, she braids her hair and I fish for our meals. I tear the newly caught fish open with my claws, gut and scale them as best I can, char the outside with a low, slow flame, and then we eat together. I shift back to human form, because the longer I am in my battle form, the more I will need larger meals to sustain me. Even now, I feel weak and depleted, and I crave red meat and a fresh haunch of…something. I've seen herds wandering in the distance, but always while she is sleeping.

I can wait a bit longer for food, though. For now, I take my fish and lift it to my mouth, taking large, crunchy mouthfuls of the entire thing. Veronica picks at the flaky flesh, her expression twisting up when I crunch down on a particularly loud part.

"I can't believe you're eating all of it," she murmurs with a wince. "Bones, scales and all."

I shrug and take another bite. "Food is food."

Veronica nibbles at hers, avoiding the choicest bits and opting for the thickest parts of the meat.

"You should eat more," I tell her when she sets it aside. "You need your strength."

"I'm not eating the head or the tail or any of that other goofy crap!" She looks horrified at the thought. "You're lucky I ate it at all, considering it's not in fish stick form!" She wipes one hand on her tunic hem and grimaces. "And now I'm getting scales everywhere. I swear, survival is so gross. Ugh."

I take her fish and finish it off. "You need to eat enough," I chide her. "Especially if you plan on doing more healing."

She wrinkles her nose but gives a little nod. "I'm trying. When are we going back to the others? I like being with you, but I can be with you in a place that has other food options and blankets and shelter. I'm just saying."

I consider this.

Veronica wants to go back. I do not like the idea, but I am realizing quickly that we cannot manage on our own. If I have my wings again, though, I can take her as far away as I need to. I will have more control. "We shall see. First we must discuss things."

"Discuss what?"

"How we will handle your powers." I take another bite of fish, and then add, "And how we will hide them."

"Hide them?" Veronica looks aghast at the thought. "Why would we hide anything? My powers are to help out." She spreads her hands in front of her. "For once, I'm someone important. The tribe needs me. Harlow was saying that there's only one healer in the other tribe, and if we've just added twenty more people, it'll be good to have a second one. They need me, and I want to help."

I grunt, tossing aside the fish head since I know she doesn't like for me to eat those in front of her. She is very squeamish, my mate. "I understand that you wish to help out, but we must be practical about it."

She sputters. "Practical? What exactly do you mean by 'practical'?"

I study my lovely mate. She's angry at me, I realize. Her breath is speeding up, her breasts heaving, her hair tossed back over her shoulders. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are bright with indignation. My khui's ever-present song increases in strength, noting how arousing she looks right now. She is giving me her fiery spirit, and I love it, even if we disagree. "I mean we must think things through. What if you have healed someone and spent all your strength, and someone comes up to you with a bleeding youngling?"

Her brows draw together. "What kind of question is that? I'd help out, of course."

"And you would help and help without cease, until you wear yourself out. I will not allow you to kill yourself just to help another." I shake my head, getting to my feet. "It is decided. You will run all your healing past me first."

"What the fuck? No, I won't." She jumps to her feet, too. "That's not fair. I don't need a manager. I'm intelligent enough to figure out when I'm too damn tired. But you can't control me like I'm some little woman who needs a big strong man to tell her how to do her fucking job."

"You're the other half of me," I tell her, hands on my hips. "We are a mated pairing. I will die if you die, because I will not want to go on."

Veronica's expression softens. "Ashtar…"

"No. Listen to me." I cup her face in my hands. "You are mine and only mine. I know you wish to heal as much as possible. You want to help. I understand. But I care nothing for the others. I only care for you, and so you will have to understand that I am going to be protective of what you do. I do not care if you heal twenty broken fingers in a row, but I will care if you make yourself sick over it. Do you understand me?"

She puts her hands on my chest. "I understand." Her anger has disappeared, her eyes soft. "You're worried about me. I get that. But I was given a gift. I can't not use it. Not when it will help others. The tribe needs me."

"I need you."

"Damn it, why are you making it so difficult to stay mad at you?" She tilts her head, gazing up at me. A smile plays at the corners of her mouth. "You're being a little unreasonable, Ashtar. I get that you're protective, but you have to let me be free to be me, as well."

Her words strike a chord inside me. Freedom. It is something new to me, and something I cherish. And I have taken her choices from her. I have clung to my freedom and hampered hers. Ah, my mate. She knows just what to say to make a surly drakoni see reason. I sigh heavily and skim my thumbs over her soft cheeks. "I am defeated. You win. I will take you back to the others soon enough…only promise that you will not heal if you are not feeling well."

"I promise I will be careful when I heal," she tells me. "And you have to promise you'll make friends."

What? "I need no friends. All I need is you."

"Wrong again." She taps a forefinger on my chest, right over my singing, thrumming khui. "You need friends."

"Bah."

"You're not in the slave pits anymore."

"And?"

"And so what if I'm in danger and there's too many to fight off?" At my snort of derision, she continues, determined. "I'm serious. You can fight off twenty bad guys. What if there's two hundred?"

"I will use my fire," I tell her easily. Simple.

Veronica rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated with my answer. "Great. And while you're handling those two hundred with fire, how are you protecting me?"

"I…" I pause. I envision a scenario as she has said. I can handle myself against any number of primitive enemies. In the hunt? No creature can wound a drakoni. My scales are impervious to claw and tooth. Fire? Pft. We are creatures of fire. But my Veronica is fragile. She is human and has many weaknesses. It would not take many enemies to separate us, and then I can do nothing. Such a thought sends a tremor of fear through me. I put my arms around her and tuck her against my chest, pressing her cheek to my skin. "No one will ever harm you," I growl, feeling my fires burn hotter with rage at the very thought. "No one."

She caresses my side, doing her best to touch me despite the fact that I'm crushing her against me. "It's all right, Ashtar," she says softly. "I promise. It's just a concept, not something that's going to actually happen. Relax." Her fingers stroke over my skin. "Relax."

I loosen my grip on her after another panicked moment, before admitting gruffly, "I do not like to think about such things."

Veronica looks up at me and gives me a gentle smile. "Now do you see why I say we need friends?"

I scowl. "No."

She rolls her eyes and tries to push away from me. "You are the most exasperating man. What if I'm in danger and you need help? They could come and get you."

I say nothing.

"Or what if I'm dead and you need help to get out alive? It'll be good to have friends."

"If you are dead, I do not care what happens to me."

"Be serious."

"I am."

Veronica goes still in my arms. For a brief moment, she looks angry. Then she pushes away from me again, and I let her. She takes a few steps backward and glares at me. "That's not fair, Ashtar."

What does fair have to do with anything? I shrug. "You wish for me to lie to you?"

She stomps a foot, her hands clenching into fists at her side. "No! But I don't want to hear that you're going to just jump off a cliff if I die."

What a strange thought. "I would not jump off a cliff." When she relaxes, I add, "If you're not high enough, you will simply hurt yourself. That is a terrible death. "

Veronica smacks her forehead. "Why am I even bothering?"

"I would cut my own throat with my claws—"

"Stop," she moans, moving forward and pressing her hands to my lips to silence me. "I don't want to hear anything else like that, all right? You can't talk about dying. I don't want that." She looks upset. "I get it now, all right? I don't like hearing you talk about dying, and that's how you feel when I overexert myself with healing. I understand. You win. We'll stay out here forever and be our own little tribe of two. Just no more talking about throat cutting, okay?"

I have won…and yet I do not feel like I have won. She looks sad, and the sight of her unhappiness distresses me. "I do not want to 'win.' This is not a battle. You and I are not gladiators in an arena. We are together." I move forward and capture her hand in mine. "I have never had to think of another's safety before. It has always been me and me alone. But now there is my Veronica to think about and…it worries me. I am not handling it well."

She gives me a soft look and squeezes my hand. "What am I going to do with you, Ashtar?"

"Anything you like, if I am lucky."

Her hand goes to her forehead again, but she is smiling this time. "Holding a conversation with you is like trying to hold a handful of water."

"And yet I hold a handful of water for my mate every time she is thirsty," I point out. "I take snow in my hands, melt it, and feed it to you."

"You do realize that's not normal, right?"

"Bah. What is normal anymore?" I spread my arms wide, indicating our surroundings. "We are both stranded on a planet of endless winter with strangers who wear animal skins and have been told to mate by a parasite. What in this seems normal in the slightest?"

"You have a point." She sighs and moves forward, her hands sliding to my shoulders. "I'm kind of starting to like abnormal, though. Not this," she says, and waves absently at our surroundings before putting her hand on my shoulder again. "But I like this part a lot." And she lifts her face to mine in a silent entreaty for a kiss.

I am all too happy to comply. I put my arms around her waist and pull her close to me. She is small and fragile, my mate, but there is a core of strength in her that I cannot forget about. If she wants to return to her people, we will. Perhaps if there were sixteen drakoni on the beach I would feel differently. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now except my mate and that she wants to be kissed.

I lean down and brush my mouth over hers even as our khuis sing in unison. She presses up against me as I let my tongue tease against her parted lips, and when she lets out a soft little moan, I claim her mouth. My mate. My female. I love the little gasps she makes as I plunge my tongue into her mouth, stroking deep as I want to stroke my cock into her tight channel. Every day that passes, I grow more desperate for her. Every time she bathes, or licks her lips, I imagine touching her where she is touching herself.

It is torture not to reach out and grab her. I want her, constantly. I tell myself that I must go slow, though. That I cannot rush my mate. Veronica is fragile. She is human, and they have different mating customs. I remind myself of this as her hand slides down my chest and her fingers trace over my belly. She needs me to go slow. She needs time to adjust to this bond between us. She—

She is grabbing my cock even as our mouths mate.

A low groan escapes me, and I snare her hand in my own as she wraps her fingers around my length. "Veronica, what are you doing?" My voice is more growly than it should be.

"Touching you," she answers playfully. "Can I?"

She needs permission? "I want to go slow," I tell her. "I do not want to alarm you with my lusts—"

Veronica giggles and strokes up and down my cock with her hand. "I assure you that I'm not alarmed by your lusts, Ashtar. But if it'll make you feel better, we'll only go to third base." She flicks her tongue over my lips. "Deal?"

"It is a deal," I agree, and then ask, "What is third base?"

That brings a delighted smile to her face. "Seriously? I guess that's a human thing, but…they let you play with the girl gladiators, didn't they?"

"Never. We were only promised a female if we were chosen as a breeding pair."

"Aha." Her eyebrows go up and the expression on her face is thoughtful. "It's wrong that I'm both thrilled and sad at that statement."

"Thrilled? Why thrilled?"

Her hand tightens on my shaft, giving it a playful squeeze. "Because I think I'm the only one that's ever tried to touch you like this."

"Others have tried," I admit. "They ended up a charred mess for daring."

She flicks a teasing look up at me. "Am I going to be a charred mess for daring to touch you?"

"I am yours," I tell her, and I mean it. "Touch me all you like."

"Mmm, well. Let's get back to third base. As for what it is…it's most fun if I show you."

"Then show me." I am utterly fascinated at this bold turn to my Veronica. When she is confident, she is bewitching. Right now, she is very, very bold and flirty, and I have never seen anything sexier in all my days.

"Oh, I plan on it," she whispers, and slides her hand up and down my shaft. "You're so naked," she murmurs, her lips playing against mine. "I can't help but notice how hard you are all the time."

"Because of you. Always because of you." I try to claim her mouth with another deep kiss, but she takes control, nipping at my mouth and teasing before I can.

"Well, don't think it didn't catch my attention," she whispers, then licks my lower lip with a sultry little swipe of her tongue. She squeezes my cock. "It's taken some getting used to, but staring at all this cock doesn't make me shy anymore. It makes me wet. Are all dragon-men made like you?"

"I imagine they all have cocks, yes." I close my eyes as she handles me, because it feels so good I want to blot the world out and focus on this touch. On the thought of her getting wet because she likes looking at me.

"No, silly. I meant as big as you," Veronica tells me. "You're quite the big guy." And her fingers lightly move up and down my shaft, as if she has to trace my length to believe it. "I bet this feels…mind-blowing inside a girl."

My shy Veronica has disappeared in the face of a temptress. I nearly lose my balance as she nips at my lower lip, her thumb swiping over the head of my cock. I'm wet there, the crown beaded with precum, and she drags the pad of her thumb through it, teasing me. "When I put my hands on you for healing, it makes me feel…things."

"Things?" I echo, my mind lost to sensation. All I can think about are her incredible hands on my cock, milking it.

"Lots of things. It makes me very aware of your body…and your cootie. And how much it wants me."

I groan again.

"And it turns me on. A lot."

With a flare of my nostrils, I can tell that she speaks the truth. The juices of her cunt are perfuming the air and it fills me with need. "Let me touch you," I demand. "Please you."

"Soon. It's my turn to play right now." Her fingers tease up and down my length and then she moves closer. Her teeth score at my chin in a tiny love bite, and then she moves lower, kissing at my collarbone and flicking her tongue against it. All the while, her hand moves lightly over my cock, petting and stroking.

She is a tease, my Veronica. I'm fascinated by this new side of her. Here I thought we needed to go slow because she was shy and inexperienced, but she grips my cock and pleasures me as if it is all she has dreamed about for days. She truly is the perfect mate for me.

Veronica kisses lower, dragging her tongue across one pectoral and then scraping her teeth over my skin. "God, I love these muscles. All of them. They're so hard and yummy." Her mouth moves even lower, and then she flicks her tongue over my nipple.

And then moves even lower.

I can't hide the surprised breath that huffs out of me when she drops to her knees in the snow before me. One hand is still on my cock, teasing me, and the other goes to my thigh. She continues to kiss me, moving over my stomach and down my thigh. "I also find it fascinating that you're completely hairless," she murmurs between nips at my skin. "And that you don't feel scaly at all."

Her words barely register in my mind. All I can think about is that playful, teasing mouth so close to my cock. Something…something about scales. "You…" It takes me a moment to think. "You thought I would be scaly?"

"I wasn't sure. These patterns look like scales." Her tongue flicks over one bit of shadow on my skin. "But you don't feel strange. You feel good. All of you feels good." And she circles her thumb over the head of my cock again. "It's just crazy how big and scaly you are as a dragon, but like this…you're just delicious."

Her mouth moves closer to my cock, so close that I can feel her breath against it. I hold still, not wishing to distract her. Even if this is nothing but a tease, I don't mind. I've stroked my own cock to nothing but my imagination hundreds of times, and this is better than any of that by far. I'll take any touch she wishes to give me and be glad for it.

Veronica chuckles, and her breath feels like bliss against my skin. She's not as hot as a drakoni female would be, I think, but it doesn't matter. I prefer this, because it's her. She did not challenge me to indicate that she wishes to mate, but every kiss and caress tells me how she feels. Her cunt is so wet with need that her scent is heavy in the air, and it makes my mouth water. The moment she gets up, I'm going to have her on hands and knees so I can put my mouth between her thighs and taste those sweet juices for myself.

But then her mouth goes to my cock and I am utterly lost. Her lips brush against the head, and she jerks back in surprise. "You're spicy—"

Oh no.

I have to pull her away from my cock. "Wait," I tell her, panting. I don't know if she can ingest my seed if she doesn't have my fires. I don't want her to burn herself. A moment later, she grabs a handful of snow and rubs it against her lips, moaning.

"It's my fires," I tell her, going to my knees. "If I have not given you my bite, my seed will scald you."

She presses her fingers to her puffy, bright pink mouth. "Well, that's a real mood killer," she tells me with a muffled sigh. "I thought it was hot against my fingers, but I also thought it was my imagination." Her eyes widen and she moans again, then faceplants into the snow. "S'getting hotter!" she wails, rubbing her face into the cold powder. "Thith thucks!"

"My poor mate." I rub her back, full of regret. "I did not think…I did not realize humans did such a thing. I was too distracted to realize what it would mean for you."

"Th'okay," she says, and then lifts her head a few moments later. Her fingers are pressed to her lips, but the redness is receding, and I realize the hum of her khui has changed to that of the healing song. "Lucky for us I can fix it," Veronica tells me with a sheepish little smile. "You okay?"

"Me?" I am puzzled by her question, and touched that even when she is in pain, my mate thinks of my comfort. I am not worthy of such sweetness. "The heat of it does not harm me."

"I mean, you know." Her cheeks flush and she lowers her fingers to brush them over my arm. "Me teasing you and then not following up. Are you okay?"

I shake my head at such a question. The moment she was in pain, my erection died an instant death. "My only thoughts are for you, my mate." I tilt my head, studying her as she pushes on her lips. They are still puffy and she flicks her tongue as if testing it, but otherwise, she seems healed. "This does not happen with human males?"

Her eyes narrow and she gives me a sideways look. "I feel like that's a loaded question."

"Loaded?"

"Like if I answer and say, 'No, I've blown plenty of guys and it's never happened,' then you'll think I'm a whore, but if I say I've never done it, you'll think I'm lying."

I'm taken aback. "Why would I be angry over such a thing? That is your past." I crouch on my haunches and wiggle my claws at her. "Shall I tell you how many men and women I have defeated in the arena? How many throats I have ripped out? How many begged me for mercy that I did not give?"

Veronica goes pale. "No," she says quietly. "I don't think I want to know."

"And why?" I press.

She hesitates. "Because…it doesn't matter. Not really. That's who you were before and not who you are now." Her words are thoughtful, even. "It feels like everything's started over now that we're here, doesn't it?"

"It does. Nothing else matters but you and me and now. Your sexual past is only interesting to me in a biological sense, because I am curious about our two species. I have never mated another female, and certainly never had another put her mouth on my cock to make me come."

Her mouth crooks in a half-smile. "I've, uh, mated before, yeah. Ex-boyfriends and all that. Thought I was in love and turns out, not so much. Haven't had anyone in my life for a while, though. My dad passed, and then I just got busy with life." She shrugs. "I didn't miss it, which tells me it wasn't really true love."

It's clear that love is important to her. I test the thought in my mind, weighing it. It is a human concept, I think. Amongst the drakoni, my memories are of mated pairings and their little touches and caresses and exchanged looks that said they were sharing thoughts for no one else. There was never a declaration of “love.” With the mental link and shared fires, it was never needed.

I'm filled with longing for such a connection with my Veronica. I send a mental pulse to her, but it meets with nothing, and I feel wordless frustration. I want to be tied to her at the deepest level, as all drakoni mates are. But pushing her to take my fires? After I have already hurt her once this day? It would be the most selfish of actions.

And yet…her juicy cunt's perfume still fills the air around us, and when she smiles at me, my need returns, blasting through my body. My hand will suffice for myself, but I think of her need. I want to pleasure her like she did to me. But I want to make sure it won't harm her. "Humans do not burn when sharing the seed of an unmated partner? What about a female's cunt nectar?"

"Her what?" She looks utterly scandalized, my Veronica.

"What do you call it?"

She sputters. "Not that!" When I keep waiting, she blinks rapidly, and the high color in her cheeks and her inability to make eye contact tell me that she is embarrassed. "We, um, just call it getting wet, I guess. Nothing special."

"So I can taste it and there will be no problems?"

Veronica still doesn't look me in the eye. "That really isn't necessary, Ashtar."

I snort at her prim tone. "Necessity and want are two very different things, my sweet mate. Are you telling me no because you do not like it, or because you are shy? Do your human males never put their tongue between your thighs?"

Her hand presses to her forehead. "Oh my god, please stop talking," she whispers. "You're killing me here."

"Should I not ask?" I move a little closer to her, touch a lock of her soft, soft hair. "Because it is something I would like to do, very much. But I will not if you find it inappropriate or revolting. You know my only goal is to please you."

My beautiful mate moans and closes her eyes. "I…uh…it's not inappropriate. Not between lovers, no."

"Revolting?"

"No…kind of the opposite." She lifts her gaze to mine, her eyes wide. "I'm totally not asking, just so you know."

"I wish you would. Your scent is maddeningly delicious."

She sucks in a breath, her eyes growing heavy-lidded with desire, and her scent drenches the air once more. "I forgot you can smell that."

"I can smell everything, my sweet fires, and you smell incredible." I move closer and run my nose against one cheek, pressing my face to hers. "Shall I lick you clean?"

"Oh god." She shudders hard. "Why is that so nasty and amazing all at once?"

"Nasty?" I raise my head, surprised.

"Good nasty," she amends quickly. "I promise it's good."

All right, then. "So are you telling me you do not hunger for my touch?"

Veronica leans into my touch. "I didn't say that."

But she won't admit that she wants me, either. Curious. I rub my face against hers and then pull back, and see that her eyes are closed, her expression one of bliss and contentment. She likes my caresses. Craves them, even. I want to hear her say that she wants me.

That is my new goal, then. To make my mate scream to the world that she wants me. So I grab a fistful of her tunic and tug on the front of it. "How does this come off?"

Veronica giggles, as if I've said something hilarious. "It's got laces, silly. I mean, most of it slips over the head, but there's laces in the middle so you can fit it around you better."

"Good. Take it off."

She sputters, laughing and smiling all at once. "That was very bossy of you."

"I am bossy when it comes to my mate," I tell her, and slide to my knees on the snow in front of her. I press my face against her chest and belly, my hands sliding up and down her backside. "I want to taste all of her and she is delaying."

A little moan escapes her. "Taste all of me, huh?"

"All," I agree thickly. "You can take it off or you can let me rip it off—"

"No ripping," she retorts, and tugs at the laces hidden under her arm and doing a shimmy to undress. "I don't have anything else to wear, you bossy jerk."

"Then you can be naked with me and I can lick you at my leisure."

She shivers again but pulls her tunic over her head. "Lick a freaking popsicle, you mean. I'd freeze to death."

That makes me pause because she is not wrong—humans get cold easily. I snag the tunic where she tosses it to the ground and then gently spread it out on the snow. "Lie here then, my cold, delicious human mate."

19

ASHTAR

V eronica chuckles again and unlaces her leggings, then lets them fall to the ground as well. They get caught on her boots, and she stumbles, the leathers pooled around her legs, before she manages to right herself. Even this makes my heart sing, because it is part of who she is. When she makes her mind up, she throws herself into life. I adore it and her. I watch as she sits down and kicks the leggings off, leaving only her furry boots. She is all pale golden skin and tumbling brown hair, her breasts bouncing enticingly. Her scent, now free of the leather confines, fills the air and makes my mouth water with need. My body strains, desperate to claim her, but I must pace myself. I want to learn her before I claim her with my fires.

Was ever a drakoni male so patient as me? Perhaps not, and I feel the strain of every minute around my mate, unable to touch her.

No more. I will pleasure her with my mouth until she is addicted to it and begging for my touch. Then when she cannot stand it, I will give her my fires, and she will welcome them with joy. She will not even care that there is a mind-link attached…

Hmm. I cannot make that lie convincing even in my own thoughts. I will think more on it…later. For now, my mate is naked and expectant, and I mean to please her.

"Hands and knees, my Veronica," I tell her.

"Hands and knees?" she echoes, confused. "But…I thought we were going to…" She blushes, and one arm moves over her breasts. "Did I just completely misinterpret everything—"

"No." I pry her hand from her breasts, because I don't want her hiding anything from me. "It is not a mating. All I will use is my tongue. I promise."

"Okay, but…" She sighs and gives a little shake of her head. "You know what? I'm just going to stop asking and I'll go with the flow instead. Hands and knees it is. You're the boss." She gets up and a moment later presents her pale backside to me, her hands spread on the tunic beneath her.

I forget everything but the sight of her. Gone is her shyness, and she peers over one shoulder enticingly at me as she wiggles her bottom. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, my mate offering herself to me, and the fires in my spirit flare to life, even as my khui sings and demands a mating. I want to claim her right now more than anything…but I think of how I burned her, of the redness on her soft, lovely mouth and the shock in her eyes. I don't want her to be afraid of mating with an alien.

Also…I hunger to taste her. I am a selfish male, because I cannot wait much longer for that.

I move forward, sliding my hands over her hips. Our bodies are a delightful contrast, and I stare at my darker bronze hands, the black claws on my fingertips, against her enticingly pale softness. I stroke my fingers over her and hear her take in a breath, even as the scent of her grows thicker in the air.

My mate gives a little moan as I glide my claws over her flanks. Her rounded bottom is the stuff of dreams, and I lean in and nip it with my teeth, unable to resist. Veronica squeals in surprise, wriggling against my touch. I lick her skin lightly, soothing the small hurt before kissing my way across her skin. I'm fascinated by the cleft of her bottom, the graceful lengths of her thighs, and most of all, the way she's panting and squirming as if she cannot remain still.

I rub my nose along her flank, enjoying the scent of her, savoring the way she feels. My Veronica. My mate. I am the luckiest of males to be given such a gift after years in the gladiator pits with nothing to look forward to save my next battle. I intend to be the mate Veronica needs—protective and giving and most of all, attentive.

Attentive to all of her, I decide. I slide one hand down her rounded ass cheek and then to the inside of her thigh, gently pressing until she pushes them apart. She moans and leans forward, her bottom going into the air, her cheek on her tunic. Just like that, she presents her cunt to me.

With infinite care, I tease my claws over her tender flesh. She is pink here, and wet…and utterly slick with need. Her skin gleams with wetness, and it glazes my claws as I explore her. Veronica moans at my touch, sucking in a breath as I caress her. She is delicate here, all folds and tender skin capped by dark curls. I love the sight of her and caress her one more time before lifting my claws to my lips for a taste.

The flavor of her cunt is like nothing I have experienced before. It explodes on my tongue, fiercely sweet and musky at the same time, and fills me with the mating need so powerfully my cock jerks in the air, the head beading wet with the need to release.

My khui throbs and fills my chest with a demanding song. I can hear hers singing loud as well, increasing in volume as she clenches her thighs and gasps, waiting for me to touch her again. "I am going to taste you now," I tell her, my voice low and husky with need. "Ready yourself."

"Ready myself? What on earth—"

Her words turn into a wordless cry as I lower my mouth to her. I lick her wet cunt, lapping up all the juices I can see. She is deliciously sweet at the source, and I find I am ravenous for more. I drag my tongue over her soft folds, eager to lose myself in the taste of her.

"Your tongue," she half-breathes, half-sobs.

"Am I doing it wrong?" I ask between licks. I cannot get enough of her. I do not think I could stop now, even if she asked me to. I grip her thighs tightly, and with my mouth buried in her cunt, I can feel every quiver of her body, every tremor that rocks through her, every shuddering breath.

"It's…textured." Veronica sounds utterly shocked.

"Bad?"

Her response is a little moan and a quiver of her cunt. More wetness drips down her folds, and I eagerly lap it up. It is a surprise then, but not an unwelcome one. I lower my head once more and return to my ministrations on my mate, my face dragging through her folds as I hungrily feast on her. I learn each of her responses, which licks make her tremble, which make her cry out. She moans when the tip of my tongue pushes into her core, where she is wettest, and she shivers when I nip at her folds.

When I touch the little button of flesh at the apex of her cunt, though, she nearly comes off the ground. "Ashtar!"

I flick my tongue against it again, just to see her response, and she lets out another little cry, then rolls her hips. My cock throbs in response, and I growl against her soft flesh. I want to make her come. I want Veronica to bathe my face in her juices. I want to hear her scream out in pleasure. I want her cunt to be so greedy for my cock that when I taste her, she will beg me for more.

With this goal in mind, I redouble my efforts. I tease and play with the little nub of flesh, coaxing it with the tip of my tongue. Her legs jerk and shudder with every touch, and she lets out a stream of whimpers that are wordless and full of need. It's clear she is close, but not quite there yet. I've never made a female come, and I don't know how to get her over that edge. I know when I stroke my own cock, I can be rough and forceful and can make myself come in a matter of moments, but I do not think it will work the same for my Veronica. I don't like the thought of being rough with her, of hurting this tender flesh. She needs something else, then.

I pull back, gliding my fingertips over skin as I watch her body for clues. Her cunt is spread wide for my pleasuring, her body flushed and slick. I absently skim her flesh and notice that when I graze the nub of her pleasure, her legs jerk and the opening to her cunt clenches, as if desperate to clasp on to something.

My cock, I realize a moment later. Her body is hungry to be filled by me.

With a groan, I move my mouth over her again, and she lets out another cry, her hands scrabbling at the snow. She's panting underneath me, gasping and so close to her orgasm. She pleads with me to make her come, but teasing her with playful, small touches isn't enough. I hate that I don't know how to make this work.

With a low growl of frustration, I drive my tongue into her channel as I slide my fingertip against her nub. If teasing one won't give her the satisfaction she needs, I'll give her both.

Veronica screams, her cunt clenching around my tongue as her body flexes. "Oh god! Ashtar! Oh god. Oh god!"

Her cunt is wetter than ever, and I take this as a good sign. I toy with her flesh, teasing circles around the tiny bud nestled in her folds even as I fuck her with my tongue. My own hips are bucking, my cock hitting nothing but air. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters but making her come. She clenches around me, her body rocking as if she can push herself deeper onto my tongue, and the noises she makes encourage me to keep going, to touch her with more urgency, to stroke my tongue into her even quicker than before.

"Oh," she moans, and then gives her hips a long, deep roll even as her cunt squeezes against my tongue. "Oh, Ashtar."

The way she says my name—and the flood of her sweetness on my tongue—tells me everything. With a low growl, I grab my cock and stroke it roughly. Once, twice, and then I'm coming, still lapping at her cunt, my seed coating my hand and spitting onto the ground. I'm careful to avoid her tender skin, noting the sizzle as my body's spend hits the snow. All the while, she rocks against my face, her movements leisurely and trembling as she lets out another low moan, this one of utter satisfaction.

And then she lets out a little sigh. "You know your tongue is textured like a cat's?"

I give her quivering flesh one final, possessive lick before I sit up. "Is this bad?"

"No," she says dreamily, staring off into space. "No, it was pretty damn good." She glances over at the melted snow nearby, and then at me. "You…came?"

"I could not wait any longer," I admit, cleansing my hands with a bit of snow and then rubbing it on my cock to wash off. "You were too delicious."

"Oh." She flushes prettily, her face sweaty and her hair clinging to her skin. Veronica slowly sits up, as if there's no strength left in her body, and that gives me a fierce sense of pride. "I thought we were going to continue."

"Not this day," I tell her, pulling her against me and nuzzling at her skin. "We will take our time."

"But our cooties," she protests, putting her arms around my neck. "They want us to mate."

"I want us to mate, too," I tell her, nipping lightly at her jaw. "But it does not all have to happen at once."

"I suppose not," she tells me, and snuggles against my chest.

20

VERONICA

J ust because Ashtar doesn't want to go all the way with full-on penetrative sex doesn't mean the man isn't interested in sex, of course. After dinner, he pulls me into his lap and kisses me, his hand going between my thighs until he makes me come all over again. He does this twice more before bedtime, and then he reluctantly changes to his dragon form and curls around me to keep me warm. I fall asleep cuddled against his scales, and then wake up in the middle of the night, cold everywhere except between my thighs, because Ashtar has changed back to his human form and is between them again, licking me until I come. Once I do, he changes back, nuzzles me, and then it's bedtime once more. In a daze, I drift back to sleep…

Only to wake up at dawn with him tugging at my leggings again.

"Ashtar?" I murmur, rubbing a hand over my eyes. I'm still barely awake, struggling to shake off the exhaustion in my body.

"Shh," he whispers, pushing my tunic up and kissing my belly. It sends tickles through my body, especially when he dips his tongue into my belly button. "I need to taste you, my Veronica."

"Oh, but," I begin, and then moan when he tugs my leggings down, exposing my pussy and immediately burying his mouth there. Whatever sleepy protest I had dies when his tongue flicks over my clit. I've never met a man who loves eating pussy so dang much, but Ashtar acts like he's addicted. I think if it was up to him, he'd have his face between my thighs a dozen times a day.

Honestly? I'm kind of addicted, too. For a guy that has no experience pleasuring a woman prior to this, he learns like a damn champ. He knows to immediately go for my clit, and those slow, steady motions make me utterly crazy, and when he starts teasing my opening, it's all over. Last night, I came at least twice—hard—and he seemed thrilled at the thought of making me come more than once. I suspect that's going to be the new normal.

I moan as he pushes his face deeper between my thighs, rubbing his mouth and nose against my folds. Just the suggestion of him going down on me makes me so wet, and I'm already soaking with need. He pushes my leggings down to my knees, then just hauls both of my legs forward, pressed against my chest so he can explore my wide-open pussy at his leisure.

"You are my morning meal, I think," he tells me between long, teasing strokes of his tongue over my pussy. "I want this every morning. Be ready for that, my mate."

Oh god. This could wake a girl up better than any cup of coffee. "Ashtar," I moan, because it's hard to think about anything but him when he's tonguing me like that.

"Say my name louder," he demands, and then flicks the tip of his tongue against the base of my clit. "I want to hear you scream it when you come."

I shudder at such a demand, because I'm normally the girl that's dead-quiet during sex. Of course, I'm also normally the girl that fakes an orgasm just to please her partner. There's no faking anything with Ashtar. There's no chance, because the moment I make a noise that sounds remotely like I'm in the mood, he's going down on me as if his life depends on it, and I'd have to be made of stone to ignore just how well he teases my body. For a man with claws, he's always gentle, too. They lightly dance over my skin and graze over sensitive parts, but he never hurts me with them. Last night, he pushed into me with something hard and thick, and I realized when he licked his hands clean after the fact that it was a knuckle. Which…works. Really damn well.

This morning, he has me on my back. Last night, I was on my knees. He's starting to experiment, my lover, and the moment he realizes I can sit on his face, it's going to be all over, I think.

Maybe I'll tell him all about that…later. Then his tongue strokes over my clit and I forget about everything but him and his mouth. My hands go to Ashtar's hair, and I hit those horns jutting out of his thick mane and stroke them to make him as crazy as he's making me.

"Say it," he growls, and his breath against my pussy is maddening.

"Ashtar."

He gives his head a little shake, his tongue moving back and forth against my clit in a way that makes me arch up in surprise. "Louder."

"Ashtar!" When he growls again, I can feel his knuckle press against my core, and I can tell I'm already about to come once more. "Ashtar!" I cry out, and then he's fucking me with one finger while he tongues my clit and I'm shouting his name to the cloudy morning sky above. "Oh, god! Ashtar! Ashtar!"

"Ho," calls a distant voice that is…not Ashtar.

I scream, an orgasm quaking through me even as my dragon-man lifts his head, his eyes flooding with black. His mouth and face are gleaming wet with my juices, and he bares his fangs, furious at being interrupted.

"No," I begin, panting, trying to come down from the orgasm. "Wait—"

Too late. Ashtar flings himself forward, and then I see a flash of golden scales and I nearly get pummeled by the sweep of a long golden tail as he races out of camp, in dragon form and clearly, clearly in a really bad mood.

"Damn it," I mutter, trying to haul my stupid pants back up my thighs. "We're coming," I yell out, getting to my feet and hopping to pull my pants up over my butt. Ashtar's messed up the laces and I can't get them undone and I topple into the snow the moment they finally give a little. "Fuck!"

I get back to my feet and then scramble up the ridge, chasing after my dragon. I'm mortified over the fact that someone heard me screaming Ashtar's name. I mean, sure, we are out in the wide-open air, but some things are supposed to be private. I really thought we were alone, but I guess we're not far enough away from the others. Ashtar's not going to be happy.

That thought makes me race forward even faster, because the last thing I need is Ashtar eating one of the blue guys. They were really nice and that doesn't seem fair. "Ashtar!" I bellow, climbing up one of the gently sloping cliffs to the land above, and then promptly twisting my ankle. "Ow! Damn it!"

I'm worried he's going to lose his shit on whoever was brave enough—or dumb enough—to come after us. The timing is terrible. One thing I've noticed about Ashtar is that he's very possessive, and never more so than when we're fooling around. When his emotions get the better of him, his eyes get deeper in color. When he flew off just now? They were black.

He's definitely going to eat someone.

I stumble in the deep snow again, planting face first into the ground again. I can see the dragon's golden scales in the distance, but I can't make out who else is nearby. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I decide. I sit up in the snow and bellow, "Ashtar! I need you!"

The dragon lifts his head. He immediately turns and races back to me.

It's not my finest moment, but he'll understand, I hope, once he's come to his senses. The dragon barrels back toward me, an enormous golden blur of claw and scale, but I'm not afraid. I lift my arms like a helpless toddler and wait for him. Sure enough, he arrives back at my side, his car-sized head swinging low to nuzzle at me and make sure that I'm all right. His eyes are black, black, black, and that worries me.

"Stay with me, Ashtar," I say softly, caressing the enormous nose. I can feel heat in his muzzle, and I'd bet money he's inches away from turning whoever decided to come visit us into a charcoal brick. "I know what you're thinking right now," I tell him. "And no, you are not allowed to eat whoever just showed up."

He growls at me.

"I know, I'm not thrilled about their timing either." I grab at his face when he tries to turn away, and it's absurd how small my hand is against that enormous snout. "But I'm sure whoever it is has the best of intentions and means well. Can you please change back to your human form so we can discuss this properly?" When he hesitates, I bite back my sigh. "For me?"

The dragon's eyes remain pitch-black for a long moment, and then they slowly begin to bleed back to cootie-blue. He nuzzles me one more time, and then in the next instant, two-legged Ashtar is there in a crouch, his jaw set in an angry scowl. He's clearly not in a good mood. He moves to my side and helps me to my feet, dusting snow off of my leathers and completely oblivious to the fact that he's barefoot and naked in the snow.

"Thank you," I tell him softly.

"It is Zolaya," Ashtar says, practically spitting the name. "I do not like him. He is constantly bothering me about you."

"He is?" That surprises me. "In what way?"

"Telling me not to push you. To let you come to the idea of mating me on your own." His lip curls, revealing sharp white fangs. "As if I do not know how to treat my mate."

Aw. I rub a hand on Ashtar's big arm. "He's just being a dad, Ashtar. He probably misses his family and is doing what he can to help out. I think it's kind of sweet." When his eyes immediately go black again, I add, "That he thinks of me like a daughter."

His eyes fade back to blue and he heaves a deep sigh. "So I do not get to eat him?"

"No."

"Can I scare him away?"

"I would really prefer if you didn't," I tell him, stroking his arm once more. "While it wasn't great timing, I'm not sad to see him. Can you please tolerate the visit for me?" He hesitates, and I take his hand in mine, then press my mouth to his knuckles. "We can fool around when he's gone and I'll do whatever you like."

His eyes flare with interest. "You will let me lick your cunt until you scream my name thrice?"

God, I am the luckiest woman ever if 'we can do whatever you want' involves me getting oral, oral, and more oral. "If that's what you want."

"It is." Now he looks pleased, his mouth curling in a sexy smile.

"Then that's what we'll do. But company first, of course."

Ashtar sighs heavily, and in that moment, he's every put-upon husband in the world, which strikes me as hilariously funny. "Fine. But I will not be pleasant about it."

"You don't have to be. You just have to let me be pleasant and not scare him away. He's just being friendly. And maybe he has news of the others."

"Ho," a voice calls again in the distance, and when we look over, I see a blue figure standing on a cliff a good ways away from us. He raises a hand in the air in a greeting and waits.

I look over at my dragon.

Ashtar's lip curls. "Invite him, then."

I move forward and give my surly dragon a peck on the mouth. "You're the best, you know that?"

He looks surprised—and pleased—at my kiss. When I take his hand and pull him toward Zolaya, he adds, "I have changed my mind. I want three screams from you and kisses, too."

"We can add kisses," I tell him with a grin, trying to make my way through the snow without falling over. It's not easy, because the weather sucked overnight and dumped a foot of new snow on the ground, which means that everything's deeper and impossible to walk through. I'm relieved when Zolaya starts forward, determined to meet us halfway.

The alien approaches, his long hair in the world's ugliest braid. His spear is strapped to his back and he has a leather backpack slung over one shoulder. Other than that, he wears a furry vest, several utilitarian-looking belts, and a leather loincloth. He glances over at Ashtar's nudity and then raises his chin in greeting at me. "I am glad I found you both. How do you fare, Ron-ka and Ashtar?"

I can feel myself blushing, because I imagine he's judging us. Heck, I'd judge us, too, considering that we're out here hiding from the tribe and Ashtar's buck-ass naked. It looks like we've been playing hide-the-sausage. I'm sure he heard me screaming, and that just adds to my horrifying humiliation. Everyone's going to know what we were doing. Of course, our cooties have been singing at each other for days. They're bound to guess anyhow, but that doesn't make things any better. "We're great," I tell him.

He eyes us both, studying first Ashtar and then me. "You do not look great, Ron-ka. You look tired and dirty." He peers over my shoulder. "Where is your tent?"

"Um." I look at Ashtar, not sure if I should say that we don't have one. It feels disloyal.

My dragon-man only scowls at Zolaya. He steps in front of me as if to block Zolaya's view. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to look for you both. My chief is worried that you might be in danger since you are both new to this world. I told him I would track you and speak to you myself."

"You are not taking my mate away," Ashtar says in a low, deadly voice.

"Um," I begin, tugging on his arm. I can tell without looking that his eyes have gone black again. It's evident by his tone and the way he's bristling at the sight of Zolaya.

"I did not say I was here to take her away," the hunter says mildly, moving past us. "I simply wished to check on you. Stealing one's female away from the tribe for resonance has become something of a tradition amongst our people. You can come back when you're ready. I just want to make sure you will both survive until then." He saunters through the snow as if it's nothing, heading for the gorge that's been our campsite for the last while. "Is this where you are staying?"

Ashtar is stock still, his hands clenched in fists. His cootie is purring, making mine act up, and I wonder if this is something deeper or if it's just pure jealousy because we haven't totally mated yet. "Give us a few, will you?" I tell Zolaya, and take one of Ashtar's clenched fists. I step in front of him to get his full attention, and his gaze flicks to me. Sure enough, it's dark as night. "What's wrong?"

His eyes narrow and he breathes out, and I can see little puffs of smoke billow out of his nostrils. "Why is he here?"

"I'm sure it's just as he said—he's checking on us. Making sure we aren't dead."

"I do not want him here."

"Well, I have to admit his timing's not my favorite, either," I say, my cheeks hot. "But I don't mind the company." When Ashtar shoots me a betrayed look, I continue. "As long as he's not staying, that is. I love being with you, Ashtar, but if he's got a tent and a blanket, I'm willing to take them off his hands."

My drakoni's eyes fade to a deep blue, then turn the color of the ocean. Almost normal. Almost. "It would be good to get more items to help you sleep comfortably. I do not like seeing you struggle." His hands uncurl from their fists and he cups my face. "I just…when I see another arrive, I think they will take you away from me. That all I have been given on this world will be ripped from my arms."

"You're breaking my heart," I tell him softly. "No one's going to separate us. I won't let them."

"Sometimes you do not have a choice."

Did I think my heart was broken before? It feels like it's cracking open all over again. He's so very sad, as if he expects the world to come to an end now that Zolaya has shown up. "You are mine and I am yours, okay? Nothing is going to change that. It's just a visitor. I promise. And besides, it's not like we can stay out here alone forever, right?" When he doesn't answer, I feel a twinge of worry. "Right?" I prompt a second time. "This is a vacation from the others, but it's not a home."

His mouth sets in a mulish line. "I do not care where I am as long as I am with you."

"Great. Then we can go back to the tribe tomorrow, right?" When he hesitates, I sigh. "That's what I thought. Ashtar, I like being with you, too. I love it. I love that it's just the two of us. But we can't survive like this forever. I'm already sick of fish. I can't drink from your hands for the rest of my life. I want a freaking bath. I want a blanket and a jacket. I want a bed for the two of us." I slide my hands down the front of his scorchingly hot, delicious chest. "And later on, I'm going to want a safe place for our baby."

Ashtar's expression softens. "You think of the future with me?"

"Well, yeah." My cootie begins to purr even louder. I don't point out that I don't really have a choice in the matter, that the cootie's already decided. None of that seems relevant at the moment. Ashtar's liked me since we first set foot on this planet, and I adore him. He's protective, and sweet, and thoughtful, and so good-looking that it makes all my girl parts ache…all the girl parts that he loves to spend endless hours licking until I come like a madwoman. He's gorgeous, too. I feel like I won the Ice Planet Lottery when it comes to him. "I think you're wonderful. And when I picture my life, I picture it with you at my side. But I don't picture it out here alone in the wilderness, just the two of us. Can't we be happy in a tent on the beach with the others just like we're happy here?"

He takes a deep breath. "I know it is what you want, my fires. But…I do not trust them not to pry me from your side. That is my only experience with others."

I shake my head. "These are good people. I promise."

"It will take time to believe such a thing," he admits. "Until then, you will have to keep reminding me."

"Of course I will. I'll be at your side every moment," I reassure him. I take his hand in mine again and press a kiss to the palm. "Nothing bad is going to happen. All the bad is behind us. It's just you and me moving forward."

"I want that more than anything."

"Then trust me." I smile up at him. "I trust you."

For some reason he doesn't look thrilled with that admission. "Do you?"

"Of course."

21

ASHTAR

She trusts me, and I have lied to her. When we mate, our minds will be linked irrevocably, and I have not told her. I still have not yet told her such a thing, because I do not know how I will react if she does not want this bond between us. I should tell her about it beforehand, so she has time to get used to the idea.

I should.

Instead, I watch silently as she greets Zolaya, and proceeds to show him around our crude camp. She exclaims with joy as he sets up a tent for us, unrolling furs and offering her dried meat and makes hot tea over a fire that burns from dung chips. In less time than it takes for me to make my mate come against my tongue, he has transformed our living space into one of comfort. He has made it a far better home for her than I have, and it galls me.

My sweet Veronica is thrilled. She eats the food given to her and gives me happy little looks over the fire, handing me tidbits to gnaw on while Zolaya tells her of how he met his mate and how the other humans came to land on this planet. It seems that his Air-ee was one of the first humans here, along with Vektal's mate. She gave birth to their son and is now expecting a second child with him. He fingers his long, ugly braid and comments that he misses her because she braided his hair for him, but it is clear that it is much more than that. He gets a distant, melancholy look in his eyes when he speaks of his mate.

He has been taken from her. How can he be so calm when he should be burning with resentment? He has been away from her for weeks. She could be in danger. Their young could be in danger. It is clear he misses her. Why does he listen to his chief when he demands that they stay away?

Any ease I felt about returning to the tribe slowly vanishes and the fear returns. How do I trust that they will let me stay with my Veronica when we go back? When they have separated Zolaya and his mate? And the others have left their mates behind in their small village across the plains? I do not want to leave Veronica for one day, much less dozens of them.

No. Better that we stay on our own.

"I hope no one's upset that we disappeared," Veronica says shyly as she lifts a cup of fragrant tea to her lips. A moment later, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, pleased. "Oh wow. Tea. I've missed it so much."

I scowl. Hot water with a few leaves in it? Easily done. "I can make you tea."

Veronica looks startled at my words. "Of course you can. It's just different when it's someone else’s. Here, taste." She offers the cup to me, a smile on her lips, and slides a little closer to me. When I take the cup, she puts her hand on my thigh and gives it an affectionate squeeze, and some of my irritation disappears. The tea is good. Maybe not as good as some of the blends I've had on distant planets as part of the spoils of a good victory, but it is still a nice drink. I nod at Zolaya, and my mate beams at me as if I've complimented him.

Zolaya only watches me closely, as if he somehow has picked up on what I am thinking. He pulls out the tea pouch and offers it to my mate. "For you, for as long as you both choose to stay out here. I can make more."

"Thank you," she tells him, beaming.

He gives me another wary look. "I am glad to see you both whole and well. Vektal was very concerned when Ashtar changed forms and raced away with you. Vor-dis had to tell us that all of your people shift forms like this. Is this true?"

"Truth," I admit after a moment.

"Yet you did not fly despite your great wings."

"Oooh!" Veronica makes a happy little noise and bounces in her seat. "His wings! I healed one of them! You should see it. It's so beautiful. Not that he wasn't beautiful before, but it's just gorgeous now. He's going to fly beautifully again when I'm done." And she gives me a look of such fierce pride that my khui sings even louder.

I am not worthy of such sweetness. My mate has such a good heart and she is so pleased with her healing efforts that I do not complain when she asks me to shift forms so I can show Zolaya. I hand her my tea and press a fierce kiss to her mouth that leaves her blushing, then pace away to shift safely. Once I am back in battle form, she moves to my side and I extend a wing for her, the healed one. She points out the healed scars—and lack thereof—to Zolaya, who listens intently.

"Show him your other wing, Ash, baby," she coaxes me with a caress on my scales. I automatically nuzzle her, pleased at the nickname. I love that she is being so openly affectionate for me in front of another. Before, she was shy, her cheeks permanently red when the others commented on our resonance. This is progress, and I am pleased with it. If she claims me just as boldly as I claim her, perhaps it will not be such a problem to return to the tribe.

Perhaps. I still have not decided. I flip back and forth between wanting them all gone and wanting to please her.

I remain still as Veronica and Zolaya admire my wings. "Strong healing," the sa-khui hunter admits at last. "You did this all yourself?"

"Yes. I'm getting better with it every time, too. I still pass out a lot, but it's not as bad."

He grunts. "Perhaps when you return, you should make arrangements to visit Maylak at the village. Have her mentor you. She never loses consciousness when she heals. Maybe there is something she could teach you."

My mate's eyes widen and she looks over at me. "I…I don't know. We'll talk about it, I think. We're not quite ready to leave this place yet."

Zolaya nods, stepping away and returning to the fire. "I thought you might say such a thing. I imagine you will both remain here until resonance has been fulfilled, yes? Sometimes it takes many, many matings before the kit is planted in your belly."

Veronica makes a strangled sound in her throat. "Uh, right."

He shrugs. "Just as well."

My mate hesitates, her gaze going to me. She frowns and puts a hand on my scales. "What do you mean, just as well?"

Zolaya glances over at me, his expression impossible to read. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. "We found your friend Will-uh and the beast-man Gren. He has been holding her captive in a cave not too far from the beach, and he will not let anyone approach. So far she seems to be safe, but we worry for her because he cannot be reasoned with." He shrugs again. "But it is just as well, because he is dying."

"What?" Veronica's hands fly to her mouth. "How?"

"He has been badly wounded. By snowcats, we think. He will not let us close enough to look. As I said, it is just as well." His expression is unreadable, tail twitching. "If he will not let us come to Will-uh, we will take her back when he is dead."

"But you'll just let him die?" Veronica cries.

"Do we have a choice?"

And my mate turns and looks at me with huge eyes. I know what she is thinking. I hate it. Gren is unstable. He will put her in danger if he gets near her. But I can tell by my Veronica's face that none of this matters. She wants to save him, and there will be no talking her out of such things.

I start growling even before she speaks.

"I can save him," she tells me.

I growl even louder.

"Don't take that tone with me." Her voice gets sharp. "I can't sit here and play cave with you while someone's dying and I can help them." Her hands go to her hips and she stares me down defiantly. "I can't believe you would even suggest such a selfish thing, Ash."

Zolaya takes a step backward, gesturing at the fire. "I will give you two time to talk." He makes a hasty retreat, and I do not blame him. My mate in a fury is magnificent, even if she is wrong.

I immediately shift back to my two-legged form, stretching out as I do so. I hate that I must shift back and forth simply to talk, when she could know my thoughts if we were already linked. Before I can even straighten, she is glaring at me.

"I know what you're going to say, so don't even bother," she tells me.

"You are not going."

"Oh yes I am!" Her bellow takes me by surprise. "You think I'm going to sit around while someone's dying? When I can help them? Are you crazy?"

"He's dangerous—"

"Newsflash! I know someone else that's dangerous and it's been perfectly fine!" Veronica gestures at me. "I'm not scared of a little danger."

"You should be!" I don't know what I'd do if she was hurt. I think of feral Gren, and his constant wild thrashing to get free of his bonds. His ferocious snarls and enormous fangs. And I think of my sweet, trusting Veronica who would rush to his side to heal him, because he is suffering. "Let him die. It will be better for all of us if he does."

She gasps, visibly staggered by my words. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I? He is a gladiator. He knows his life is cheap."

My mate looks as if I have betrayed her. "I can't believe you of all people would say such a thing. Life matters, Ashtar. Even his. We don't know that he's a bad person."

"He stole your friend!"

"You stole me!"

"He's a beast—"

"And you turn into a dragon." She gives me a challenging look. "Go on, keep making my point for me, because I'm not backing down."

She's not, I realize. In this, my mate is utterly fierce. She senses someone in trouble and wants to help. Even though I am utterly furious with her…I am also aroused. When a drakoni female wishes to entice a male, she challenges him. In a way, this is Veronica challenging me. She is ferocious and her eyes are blazing, her chest heaving with indignant breaths.

I have never wanted her so much in my life.

I growl low in my throat again, but it is nearly drowned out by my khui's insistent song.

Her nostrils flare and she scowls at me…and then realization hits her. Her gaze flicks to my cock, hard and erect and jutting into the cold air. She looks over to the little encampment, but Zolaya is gone, off walking some distant ridge to give us privacy. Did he know that this would happen? He has a mate, so perhaps they have argued just the same.

"I am so pissed at you," she says, and even as she does, her voice grows husky. I can smell her scent blooming in the air.

"Are you?" I stalk forward, all slow, predatory movements.

Her breath quickens. "Don't think you can kiss me and make this all better."

"I was not planning on kissing," I tell her, my voice low. "At least, not your mouth."

She moans. A second later, she gasps and covers her mouth with one hand. "Zolaya's going to hear us."

"Let him hear,” I growl. “If he does not want to know I am with my mate, he can leave. I would be glad of such a thing." I grab the front of her tunic and bunch it up in my hand, watching to see her reaction. If she acts upset, I'll immediately back off.

Her lips part and she looks both outraged and full of need. Her mating scent overwhelms me, so thick and rich I can practically taste it on the air. "You're completely outrageous," she whispers.

"Am I? Or am I just a male protective of his mate?" I push my hand under her tunic's long skirt, seeking the waistband of her pants. After days of practice, I find it quickly and slip underneath the leather to press my fingers against her plump, wet folds. As usual, she is hot and wet for me, and a moan breaks from her the moment I find her clit. "Tell me that you hate me," I demand. "That I am unreasonable and you want nothing to do with me. That I am cruel and selfish." With every statement, I circle her clit, teasing her.

A low, sobbing moan breaks from her throat. She clings to my arm. "You're a real bastard, Ashtar. Keeping me for yourself."

"That's right," I tell her, and I stroke her cunt with bold, possessive movements, mindful of my claws. "This is mine."

She gasps, her eyes closing.

"This cunt belongs to me and I will not let anyone take it away from me. It is mine to touch. Mine to pleasure. Mine to use."

Veronica shudders against me, her folds making slick, wet sounds as I tease her towards a quick, brutal climax. "But Zolaya," she whispers.

"Can watch, for all I care." When she gives a soft cry, I know the thought both terrifies and excites her. "He can watch me claim my mate. Watch me touch her cunt until she cries out with pleasure. Watch her come as I caress her. He will know she is mine."

She leans into my touch, lost in pleasure. "Ashtar…"

"Your mate," I tell her forcefully, even as I graze the pad of my thumb over her clit. "Say it."

"My mate," Veronica whispers.

"Louder," I say, rubbing her just the way she likes. "Tell the world you're mine. That you have been claimed by Ashtar and will receive his fires. That your cunt will welcome my cock, just like your body will welcome my seed."

She comes with a shuddering cry, her release drenching my hand. I pull her close against me and claim her mouth with a pleased kiss and continue to rub her sensitive clit until I've wrung every last shudder from her. She came loudly enough that surely Zolaya heard it, and that gives me a hungry, possessive sort of pleasure. Let him tell the others that there is no doubt she belongs to me.

Veronica pushes at my hand, and when I pull it away, I lick the taste of her from my claws. "You play dirty," she pants, shaking her head at me. "Is that how we're going to do things? Use sex as a weapon until the other agrees?"

"Sex is always a weapon," I tell her, still full of pleasure at her sweet responses to my touch. "And mating is a battleground. Some things are always a fight…but some fights are more pleasurable than others."

"Mmm. You have a point." And my mate puts her hand on my cock and gives me a bold look. "Well, you've won a battle, but the war is not yet over." She grips me tight, stroking hard up and down, and the breath disappears from my lungs. "How's it feel?"

Her hand? Or the way she's taken control of the situation from me? I love both. "Exquisite."

A smile curls her lovely mouth and she slides her other hand underneath my cock, teasing my sac even as she strokes me again. "You made me come so I could do what you wanted. Does that hold true for you, I wonder?"

In this moment, I would give her anything…but I would give her anything, anyhow. "Do you want me to scream your name?" I manage to grit out, lost in her touch.

Veronica chuckles and shakes her head. "Not necessary. I know you want me and only me." Her hand pumps my shaft again, and then she circles the head with her fingertip. "But if you want to make me happy, you'll go with me and we'll go see if we can help Gren. That means going back to the tribe. That means no longer hiding."

I bare my teeth at her, trying to snarl. It's near impossible given that she's stroking and working my cock so well. How can I be mad at such blatant manipulation? I love it. "You're mine," is all I manage to say between panting. "Mine."

"Never said I wasn't," she tells me softly. "That's not the issue."

I can't stop myself from touching her. I slide my hands into her soft, wavy hair and hold her tight against me even as she pumps my length, her eyes bright. "Then…we will go," I pant. "But only…if you are truly mine. You…take my fires. Let me claim you…"

"I thought that's what I was doing right now," she says in the most alluring, playful voice I've ever heard. "I'm challenging you so you'll claim me, just like you said your females do."

And when she squeezes my shaft, I groan, losing all control. I fuck her closed hand, pressing my forehead against hers as I lose myself in the sensation of her touch, of knowing that she wants to be claimed by me. That she'll be taking my fires. My climax builds, sac tightening and my movements growing rougher as I pump into her grip. This female. My female. She's perfect.

Utterly perfect.

With a low cry, I rip myself from her grasp at the last moment and spill my seed into the snow. She watches me, breathless, her eyes shining as I stroke my cock, wringing out the last moments of pleasure. "I wish I could taste you," she tells me, and I shudder to hear that bold statement. It sends another surge through my cock, and I spurt a fresh load of seed onto the ground.

"Soon," I tell her thickly. "Once you have taken my fires."

"And then I'll be yours in every way?"

She has no idea just how right that statement is.

22

VERONICA

Even though Ashtar's a little grumpy about it, he doesn't protest when I announce to Zolaya that we'll be going back to the tribe with them. The blue alien seems amused, and I suspect he heard a bit of the “convincing” going on. He'd probably have to be deaf not to hear it, because I know we're not the quietest couple. Ashtar's pretty obvious about it, too, consistently grabbing me and dragging me against him to sniff me or kiss me or just manhandle me in fun and exciting ways. I don't mind it, strangely enough. It's like he has to remind himself that I'm with him and I'm not going anywhere.

My poor Ashtar. He's so convinced that someone's going to take me from him, or he's going to somehow lose me. I don't understand it, but I've never been a slave…well, not that I can remember. I can't imagine what he's been through or what's going on in his mind. All I can do is support him and show him that I'm here…and if he wants a few extra kisses and caresses, I certainly don't mind.

Actually fulfilling resonance is going to have to wait until we have some privacy. Since we're traveling with Zolaya, there's one tent. He offers to give it to us, but Ashtar refuses. I offer for all of us to sleep in the tent. Both men refuse. In the end, Zolaya takes the tent, I take most of the blankets, and sleep outside with Ashtar in his dragon form. There's no hanky-panky with Zolaya around…

And I miss it. A lot. I'm sure some of it is just my cootie, but I miss waking up with his face between my thighs. That's something a girl gets used to startlingly fast.

It takes two days of travel to return to the tribe, despite the fact we're moving as fast as we can. New snow slows us down, and both men are very conscious of my speed. I suggest that I try to mend Ashtar's other wing, but Ashtar shoots that idea down so forcefully I feel a little silly for even bringing it up. Healing does take a lot out of me, true, but they're acting like I'm some fragile flower. How will I ever get better at healing if no one lets me do it?

Of course, I'm outvoted by both men, and we end up walking back through the snowy hills and valleys that make up the endless icy landscape.

We don't head directly for the beach, either. As much as I'm eager to see the others once more, Zolaya steers us toward the direction of the cave that Gren and Willa are hiding out in. He keeps calling it something like a “hunter cave,” and it takes a bit of questioning before I realize that it's a cave that's been stocked with supplies for long-distance traveling hunters. Huh. That would have been handy to know about, considering I spent the last week drinking out of someone's cupped hands and sleeping in the snow. It doesn't matter, though. I enjoyed the time I spent with Ashtar. Strange how I actually miss the intimacy of surviving, just the two of us.

I don't miss the endless amounts of fish, though. Zolaya has trail rations, and he checks traps as we walk, providing more meat as we go. He takes time with every stop, explaining how to set snares and where to look for caches, and I realize that he's trying to teach us how to survive on our own, in case we leave again. Zolaya and Ashtar are content to chew on frozen bits of raw meat, but I make my dragon sear mine before I eat any of it. I'm not quite as into roughing it as everyone else. Not yet.

Right now, it's good to be a fire-breather's mate.

As we head up into the mountains, the trails become narrower and rockier. The beach is a green ribbon on the horizon, a reminder of how close and yet how far we are from the others. I wonder if they realized how close Willa and Gren were all this time? Or was that part of the plan? I think of Ashtar and how overwhelmingly protective he is of me. Maybe Gren picked this spot because he could take Willa away from the others and have her to himself…but she would know how to get back to the tribe if she needed to.

The fact that she's stayed while being so very close to the shore tells me that either Gren is a more fearsome captor than I thought…or there's something else going on. I find myself very curious about their situation…and I hope we're not too late to help Gren. I think of the beast-man and try to imagine what it'd be like to be mated to a guy like that (if Willa's even mated to him) versus a golden god like Ashtar.

I shudder at the thought. Gren is pretty much the opposite of Ashtar in every way, physically. Ashtar's so beautiful to look at it hurts. Gren…well, it hurts to look at him, but in an entirely different sort of manner.

We head up a steep mountain path, and as we do, Ashtar loops an arm around my waist, hauling me against him.

"I can walk it," I protest, because walking joined like this with him means we're moving much slower.

"You are perfect in my eyes, my fires," Ashtar says calmly, his cootie singing to me the moment he touches me. "But your feet are graceless blocks."

Up ahead of us, I can hear Zolaya suppressing a laugh.

"You suck," I tell him, though it's definitely not news to me. I know I'm clumsy as heck.

"No," my dragon murmurs, leaning closer to me. "I lick, and that is not going to happen until we are alone again."

I shiver, my nipples tightening against my tunic. Damn the man for distracting me.

"Ho," calls someone up ahead, and we look up. Just as we do, I lose my footing on the gravel-strewn path, and Ashtar calmly holds me steady, arm locked around me so I don't topple over the side of the damn mountain. Above us, one of the blue aliens—Hassen, I think—raises a hand in greeting and skids down a few steps, jogging toward where we approach.

Zolaya nods at him.

I hold tightly to Ashtar as the path slopes up steeply. It seems like Gren's picked the highest vantage point in the area. I half-expect a freaking eagle to show up and demand we get out of its nest.

"How goes it?" Zolaya asks as Hassen approaches. "Does he yet live?"

"Barely," Hassen says with a shake of his head. "He still will not let anyone approach but his human female. His wounds are infected, I think, and his mind altered with fever. He is not cruel to her, but he is still dangerous to others." He shows one big arm and an ugly bite on it. "I tried to leave them some healing roots, but he attacked me the moment I came close."

Zolaya looks troubled, glancing back at us. Ashtar's holding me so tightly against him that I'm pretty sure he's squeezing the air out of my lungs. He doesn't like that we're here, that much is obvious. I put a bright smile on my face as if this is all normal and pat Ashtar's chest to reassure him. "It's all good, Ash. Promise."

"It does not sound good," he tells me sourly.

My sweet, flirty dragon has turned into a sourpuss at the thought of me getting hurt.

"I see you brought the healer," Hassen calls out, raising a hand in greeting to us. "This one might be, as my Mah-dee says, full of lost claws."

"A lost cause," I correct, doing my best not to laugh. It's really not a funny situation. It's not. It's only nerves that are making the laughter bubble in my throat. "And if I can help, I'd like to."

"He is not well," Hassen warns. "Even if he was, I do not think he would be reasonable." He looks to Ashtar. "Are you sure you wish to risk your mate like this?"

"Now hold the fuck up," I begin, but Ashtar squeezes my side.

"I do not wish to risk my mate at all," he says, loud enough to override my protests. "But she has a mind of her own and she wishes to do this."

Hassen grunts and crosses his arms over his chest. "Just like my Mah-dee. Headstrong and demanding." He gives Ashtar a wicked grin. "Those are the best kinds of mates, my friend. Fierce as snowcats in the furs."

"Standing right here," I chime in. "Can we save the dick-swingery for later? Let's focus on the sick guy, all right?" Men. Sheesh. "Does he attack everyone?"

"Everyone we have sent in," Hassen says, rubbing the bite on his forearm. "Even when we bring offerings of food and blankets, he howls and snarls like a frothing metlak. I am surprised he has not killed the female."

I'm not. In fact, it reminds me a bit of Ashtar and how his eyes went black when Zolaya approached. What if Gren's possessive like my dragon-man is, but just to a more extreme degree? "Did you send in a girl?"

"Eh?" Hassen frowns at me, and Zolaya looks thoughtful.

"You know, a chick. A woman. Liz or maybe Farli?"

Hassen snorts. "Their mates would not allow it."

"I do not blame them," Ashtar adds.

I poke his bare stomach with my finger. He's wearing only a loincloth today, since I couldn't convince him to wear more than that. The snow and the winds don't bother him, but a shirt does. Go figure. He told me once his people went around mostly naked because of the shifting, and he wasn't given much clothing as a slave for the same reason. To him, bare skin is as natural as breathing.

Me, I don't want all the other ladies creeping on my golden god. Maybe that's a little jealous and possessive, too, but I don't care. The cootie activates that chest-beating MINE part of your brain and makes it tricky to listen to reason. "Well, I'm hoping he's just a little extra protective right now. If another woman comes in, one that's already resonated, maybe I won't be seen as a threat to his relationship with Willa. He might be worried you're going to take her from him."

"He would be right," Zolaya says, exchanging glances with Hassen. "He should not have taken her."

Ashtar's grip tightens on my waist, and I know he's putting himself in Gren's place. "Regardless, he hasn't hurt her. Let's solve one problem at a time before we make more of them, all right? I'm going to go in." When Ashtar stiffens and a growl forms in his throat, I pat his chest. "And Ashtar's going to be right behind me to make sure I'm safe. We're both resonating up a storm, so we shouldn't read as a threat to him."

Hopefully.

Zolaya nods. "Do not put yourself in danger. If he cannot be saved, help Will-uh. Try to get her away from him."

"We'll see what we can do to handle the situation," I say firmly, not promising anything. Poor Gren. I think of Ashtar in his place. Ashtar, who remains deeply mistrustful of the others, convinced that they're going to steal me away from him. If he would get to know the others, I think he would like them. I think he could make friends. But if all he sees is the situation with Gren—and the others trying to tear Willa away from him—it's not going to do anything but reinforce his fears.

I have two goals once I go inside that cave: to heal Gren and, if Willa's safe and if she wants to stay with her alien friend, to make sure that happens.

23

VERONICA

G oing first into a cave with a rabid beast-man might be the most pants-pissingly terrifying thing I've ever done. It doesn't hit me until we pass by Zolaya and Hassen, and the latter offers me his knife. I decline it, but the sight makes my heart start to hammer in my chest.

This might be really, really dumb.

"I do not like this," Ashtar says in a low voice as we approach the cave entrance. "I can smell your fear-scent."

"If I wasn't afraid, then you'd need to be worried. But we still need to do this." When he doesn't argue, I move forward to the mouth of the cave. It's surprisingly large and triangular, hidden between a few slate-y looking shelves of rock. I expect it to be a shallow cave, but to my surprise, the interior is dark and twisty, with a hint of light deep inside. A tunnel, then, that leads to the cave itself. Yippee.

Fear makes my skin prickle again, and Ashtar growls and steps in front of me, putting a hand on my arm. "Let me go first."

"No," I say quickly, pushing ahead before we scuffle like children on the narrow rocky ledge, jockeying for the front position. "If you go in first, that'll just freak him out. I need to go in first to reassure him that we're not here to harm him."

"I won't let him—"

"I know," I interrupt quickly. "I promise if it even seems like he's going to freak out, we'll back out of there. You have to promise me that you're not going to go dragon, though." I eye the cave. It's tall, but the inside looks narrow as heck. "There's no room, and I don't want you making the mountain collapse on you."

"How am I supposed to defend you if I cannot shift to my battle form?" He bites out, clearly frustrated with me.

I turn and pat his cheek. "You'll think of something, Ash, baby."

"Be sensible, Veronica."

I'm pretty sure the time for sensible was a few hours back. This is the time for heroes, my brain says. My brain is an idiot and watches too much TV. But I suck in a breath and go in anyhow, because I'm needed.

It's a long tunnel inside. I don't know if that makes things better or worse. Better, I suppose, because I'm not right in Gren's face the moment I step under the rocky overhang, but at the same time, hesitantly moving forward footstep by footstep gives me a lot of time to worry that I'm being an idiot and that my throat's going to be ripped out in the next minute or two.

I'm absurdly grateful for Ashtar's hand at the small of my back, and the constant hum of his cootie, reminding me that he's right beside me—and probably pissed as fuck, but he's not going to leave.

We go forward several feet in the darkness, and then there's a low, sonorous growl. It's not like when Ashtar gets irritated and growls at me. This one's far more menacing, more animalistic. And it seems to come from everywhere.

I stop. "Gren?" I call out, keeping my voice low and gentle. "My name's Veronica. I'm here with my mate, Ashtar. We're not coming to hurt you, or to try and take Willa away from you. I know you're wounded and we just want to help you. Can we come in?"

The growling doesn't cease. In fact, it gets louder and louder, and my skin prickles when an angry snarl comes out of nowhere and then goes silent. There's a murmur of voices, and then I hear footsteps in the dark. Ashtar steps in front of me, cautious.

A moment later, a flickering torch appears in the darkness and I see Willa's dirty face, her hair nothing but a tangled, filthy tumble around her face. "You mean it?"

I'm so surprised to see her that it takes it a moment to register. "Which part?"

"The part where you're not going to take me from him?" She moves the torch, studying our faces. Willa doesn't look scared or abused. Dirty, yes. Suspicious, yes. Abused, no.

"We're here to see if we can help. That means healing, and it's all that it means. I promise."

Willa's eyes narrow. "You're not here to rescue me?"

"I guess that depends on if you want to be rescued," I tell her. "Ashtar took me away, and I guess that could be interpreted as 'stealing me,' except I have no desire to be rescued." I give her a rueful smile. "I'm not sure that the big blue guys agree, but I figure there's room enough on the planet for everyone to have differing opinions now and then."

Some of the tension eases from her body and the hunted look leaves her face. For a long moment, Willa just looks tired. She scrubs a hand down her face. "Please, please don't betray my trust."

"We won't," I reassure her. I take a step forward, my hands spread. "He's injured, isn't he?"

Her face crumples a little. "He's dying. I don't want him to die thinking he's still someone's captive. Please…"

"He won't," I promise her, and I mean it. I think of Ashtar, and how he'd feel at being betrayed. At being tied up like he was an animal. I can't imagine he'd trust anyone, either. Maybe poor Gren's had a raw deal ever since he landed here. I gaze at her, where she stands in the middle of the cave, blocking the path with her body. She hasn't shown any inclination to move, and I suspect she's still internally warring with the idea of trust. "I'm a healer, Willa. I can heal him…or at least, I can try. But I can't do it out here."

Willa hesitates a moment longer. Then, with a soft, "Please," she turns around and waves us deeper, inviting us in.

Before I can step forward, Ashtar puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. He takes the lead, moving in front of me, and doesn't ask permission. I suspect this is one of those arguments I won't win, so I reach forward and find his hand in the dark, squeeze it tight, and walk a few steps behind.

The cave winds deeper and deeper into the side of the mountain, and then opens up into a large, cavernous room, almost like an atrium. Overhead, there's watery sunlight pouring in amidst the stalactites, and it lights the cave decently, as does the fire blazing in the center. There's a pallet of blankets tucked near the fire, along with a couple of stools. Natural rock shelves off to the side reveal stored supplies in woven baskets along the edges of the cave, safely out of the way of any snow coming in from the overhead opening. It's a large, roomy cave and it'd be perfect to live in if it wasn't so high up the mountain. I can see why Gren picked it to hide away with Willa.

And I notice for the first time since entering that I don't see Gren anywhere. I pause, wondering if there's another chamber when the bed of furs near the fire shifts and moves, ever so slightly.

Oh.

I move closer, and Ashtar remains protectively at my side. "Careful."

Willa pushes past us, returning her torch to the fire. "It's okay," she says in a soft voice. She sits down next to the figure huddled in the blankets. "Gren, friends are here. They're going to help you, all right?"

As I watch, one hand eases from the blankets and grips Willa's tightly. His hand is gray, dark and not as hairy as I thought originally. I study their joined hands, and a prickle moves over me as I realize that his clawed fingertips look familiar. The coloring is all wrong, but…

His claws look a lot like Ashtar's.

Maybe that's common, I tell myself as I move closer. Ashtar tries to block me off again, but I shake my head at him and move to Willa's side. While she's holding Gren's hand, he's not going to do anything. He won't risk her safety.

She gives me a sad look even as he growls a warning, and I put a bright smile on my face, as if this is normal for me. "Hi Gren. I'm Veronica. That guy over there is my mate." I point at Ashtar, who's glowering over the fire. "You can probably hear us resonating, right?" I pat my chest. "That means there's no chance either of us is going to take Willa from you."

"He only knows a little of our language," Willa tells me, stroking his hand. "No one gave him a translation chip." She looks angry on his behalf.

I don't point out that he was probably struggling and thrashing too much for anyone to safely inject anything, but I nod. "Will he attack if I touch him?" My fingertips are beginning to tingle like they do when I sense my healing ramping up. I haven't touched him yet, but it's obvious that he's not well. The little skin I can see is pale gray and the bright cootie-blue eyes are sunken in their sockets. "I want to help, but I have to put my hands on him to heal him."

Willa leans over Gren and caresses his cheek. "Gren, sugar, Veronica's a friend. You trust me, right? Willa friend, Gren friend, Veronica friend."

"Friend," he rasps, and then snarls once more.

"Ignore the snarling," Willa tells me, moving to Gren's other side so she can give me room. "I had an old feral cat back home that would hiss at you even when she showed up for cuddles. I think he thinks it's normal, and no one's ever tried to show him otherwise. He really is a good guy, though. Very sweet. Very caring. He's protected me and kept me safe." She looks ready to cry. "He doesn't deserve to die like this."

"He's not going to," I reassure her, though I don't know if he'll die or not. I'm going to do my best, but…it might not be enough. Not until I see how he's doing. Very carefully, I reach toward the blankets and peel them back. They feel sticky and heavy, and as I do, a smell washes through the cave. Ashtar makes a choking sound, and I know this has to be killing his sensitive nose.

I study the creature—no, man—in front of me. His gray body has patches of fur kind of like the blue guys have the hard, bony plates. He's got it on his horned head, on his shoulders, and like a pelt covering most of his chest and his, ah, nethers. It's also matted to his chest and looks utterly filthy. That's not the problem, though. The problem is the sheer number of animal bites that cover his body. He looks as if he's been bitten everywhere—all up and down each arm, chunks gouged out on his chest, and even his torso and legs have massive wounds.

And the bites are horribly, grossly infected. The skin around each one is puffy, the bites open and leaking all kinds of terrible, smelly things. Ugh. I'm horrified as much as I'm fascinated. "What happened?"

"Snowcats. A lot of them. They were hungry and thought I was dinner. Gren saved me." Willa sniffs hard and presses her lips to Gren's hand. "I was out hunting and didn't even realize that I'd wandered into a den of them. I'd be dead if it wasn't for him. So the others can call him any kind of monster they want, but he's been wonderful to me."

I flex my fingers, hesitating before I put them on Gren. I'm not entirely sure where to touch him that's not been bitten and mauled within an inch of his life. "Is that why he stole you? Because you two resonated?"

"Stole me?" WIlla looks surprised. "Everyone thinks he stole me?"

"He didn't?"

"No! I freed him, and we left. Why would I want to stay with people that treat him so badly? He was scared and they tied him up like he was an animal. I wanted to help him and he didn't want to be alone." She shakes her head. "No one stole me."

Well, this is awkward. "I see. We can tell the others about that. Maybe it'll change their minds. Did you two…have you…" I chew on my lip, trying to think of the best way to ask, then just decide to come right out with it. "Are you guys resonating?"

"No. We're just friends. I think he could use someone that has his back." She gives me a defiant look. "Does it have to be sexual?"

"I don't imagine it does, no. I was just curious." She's awfully defensive for it to be “just friends,” but I'm certainly not going to pry. "Seems like there have been a lot of misunderstandings. We'll do what we can to help and then we'll talk to the others, won't we, Ashtar?"

My dragon-man crosses his arms over his chest and looks defiant. "No one is taking us anywhere we do not want to go. I did not escape one master to have new ones."

Atta boy. I'm filled with a rush of pride for my sexy dragon and want to get up and smother him with kisses. Instead, my cootie just flutters in my chest like the world's loudest butterfly and I beam happily at him, trying not to get affected by his nearness. Now is not the time for my cootie to think about mating. Unfortunately, it does every time I think of Ashtar, and it's getting harder to tune it out…or maybe I feel less and less like actually ignoring how it makes me feel.

Time to focus. I turn to Gren, who I remember as strong and terrifying and see nothing but someone who's been misunderstood and afraid since arriving here. Heck, maybe he's always been misunderstood. I offer him my hand, palm up, and he snarls again, baring saber-tooth-like large fangs at me.

"Gren," Willa says, squeezing his other hand. She shakes her head and puts a hand on his sweaty, gross chest, unafraid of his reaction. "Veronica is a friend. Willa friend, Veronica friend, Gren friend."

He looks at her, nostrils flaring. My god, he's so ugly, but she looks at him with patience and pride…and a lot like how I look at Ashtar.

"Friend," he manages, after a time. And he slowly uncurls one claw-tipped fist and offers me his hand.

I carefully take it…and I'm immediately struck by how “wrong” he feels. It's something more than the infection, which pulses and aches all throughout his physical form. It's different. Fascinated despite myself, I latch onto the healing “feeling” and follow it in, pushing my mind into Gren's body.

There's so much going “wrong” that it takes me a moment to settle in. It's overwhelming, because he's so very alien compared to even my dragon-man Ashtar that I don't know where to begin. It's like Gren's body is a symphony of musical instruments that are all off-key and being played as loudly as possible, each individual hurt trying to out-loud the last. I flail helplessly for a moment, feeling pummeled from all sides by his wrongness. Then, I feel it—one bright, shining thing in the chaos.

His cootie.

I follow it like a beacon, mentally sinking deeper into Gren's body. I let my cootie connect with his, and as they hum to each other, they begin to “speak” and share information. His cootie is strong, surprisingly strong. It beats in time with his heart, fighting like a warrior against the infections that crowd in.

It's strong, but it's tired. It pushes back against one infection, and another rises. Fluid has pooled in his chest and it's like dominoes—one problem is fixed and three more cascade. But they all feel…fixable. Doable. Like they're not the problem, not really. So why is his cootie so tired?

I link my cootie to his and coax it to work on the infections, tackling one piece at a time. Soothe away the pain in this bite right here, with the deepest, most jagged wounds. Mend torn muscle and broken veins. Help blood flow and push out the bad gunk that's determined to crowd in. With my cootie helping along, Gren's cootie grows stronger by the moment, pulsing harder and faster. It wants its host to survive. It wants that more than anything. But the feeling of “wrong” keeps surging forward, and even as I help with the infection, I keep circling around the feeling, trying to figure it out.

For some reason, I think of his claws again. The moment I do, a familiar feeling creeps through me. They're drakoni claws. They don't just look like them, they are them. Fascinated, I dig deeper and find his genetic material, and the “wrong” feeling hits me again. So does the drakoni feeling. I sift through his cells—at least, I think they're his cells—and find all kinds of conflicting information. This part's human, I think. Another part over here is whatever species the blue guys are. There's several bits from aliens I've never seen or heard of. And of course there are drakoni pieces in here. It's like they took bits from a bunch of different species and pushed them together and made a man.

And they did a shitty job with it. Even now, I can feel that, biologically, his systems aren't doing so well. Some of the pieces don't match up and can't function properly together. This is what's overwhelming his cootie. It could handle the bites. It could handle infection. But both of those things added in with the fact that it's got a full-time job just trying to keep his Frankenstein-bits working? It's too much. No wonder he's going under.

So I get to work. I find bits and pieces that feel like jagged edges and smooth them down. I think of Gren like clay and mentally work over the rough bits and the cracks, over and over again, until they disappear, lost in the perfection of the whole. I fix one piece, and then another pops up, demanding attention, and I turn towards it. Over and over, this chain continues, and I lose all sense of time and space. The world begins and ends with Gren's cells and organs, his blood and bone and tissue, and making them all sing together. He can be an orchestra, I tell them, but everyone has to play in tune.

And they don't want to listen, at first. But with enough coaxing and smoothing, my cootie and his cootie are able to pull things together. This time, when his body's systems sing out at me, they're not pretty, but they're not broken, either. They're working together instead of against each other.

The infection's still there. Bites, too. But I'm out of energy and I feel drained right down to my soul. I know I've spent too much effort working on Gren even after I promised Ashtar I'd take care of myself, and now I'm too tired to sink back into myself. It feels like too much effort.

I just want to fade out into nothing, because bodies are work.

My cootie sings and hums at me, though, keeping me from sliding away into nothing. It begins its resonance song and I think about Ashtar. My sweet, protective Ashtar who's both flirty and possessive. I need to go back to him because we haven't really completed resonance yet. Not truly. The thought of him helps me pull my mind free from Gren's body, and as I leave it behind, I hear his cootie start up in a song of its own.

Not a healing song, a mating song. Now that the broken parts are mended, his cootie wants more than just surviving. It wants a mate. And even as I slide back into my own body, I know who the mate is.

Willa.

I can't wait to share the news with Ashtar.

24

VERONICA

When I open my eyes, my dragon's scowling at me as if I've done something wrong, and my body feels like it was beat with a hammer. Uh oh. I lift my head—or try to—and then fall back on the blankets, weak. I lick my lips, but they feel like sandpaper. Ugh. "How long was I out this time?"

"Three days," Ashtar says flatly. "What did you do?"

Damn. He looks furious at me, but that explains why I feel like death warmed over right now. I put a hand on my forehead, because I feel a headache coming on. "Can you help me sit up?"

"I would rather throttle you," he tells me, but moves to my side and tenderly lifts me in his arms, propping me up. Aw. He doesn't want to throttle me after all. He's just mad and worried. I'm filled with a rush of love for the big guy as I rest my head against his chest and he helps me drink sips of water. "These have been the longest three days of my existence. I hated every moment of it."

"I'm sorry. I hate that you were scared. It was just a tough healing."

He caresses my cheek, those dangerous claws dancing over my skin. "They are all tough healings, it seems. You put yourself too far into them and I worry you won't come back to me."

After that last healing, I worry about that, too. It felt too easy to just sink into the nothingness and forget all about my body. That scares me a little. "Maybe after things settle down, I can go study with the healer at the other tribe and she can give me pointers."

"I think that is a very good idea." He caresses my cheek and nuzzles my forehead, still holding me close against him. "You must rest, first."

"Resting is good," I agree, because I don't feel like moving at all. Far too much effort involved. I need to pee, too, but for now I'm just happy to be cuddled by Ashtar. "Are we still in Gren's cave?"

"Mmm. I am sure they would like for us to leave, but I refused to take you anywhere until you recovered."

"They want us to leave? Really?" I'm shocked and more than a little hurt at such ingratitude. "That's rude. I mean, I worked my ass off to heal the guy and…"

And I'm having a hard time concentrating on what I want to say next because there is a hell of a lot of moaning going on somewhere in the background. I go quiet, frowning to myself as I try to figure out what all that noise is. Is someone hurt? Having a nightmare?

Then, I hear Willa cry out something that sounds distinctly like a “yes.” Followed by something that sounds a lot like a “harder.”

Oh. Oh dear.

My cheeks flush as I hear some rather distinctive grunting and moaning, most definitely the sexy kind. They're very loud. Very enthusiastic. Very. "Exactly how long has that been going on?" I whisper to Ashtar. My cootie's picking up speed because it's hard to listen to someone else's enthusiastic (really, really enthusiastic) sex and not get turned on yourself.

"Two days," my poor dragon says grimly. "Over and over again for the last two days."

"How…"

"The moment you passed out," he begins, and gives me a sour look to show just how little he approves of that, "he awoke. His wounds have healed very quickly and by the next morning, the infection was gone. Your friend Will-uh decided to help him bathe and then they were tearing at her clothing. They did not care that I was in the cave watching over you. Nor have they cared every time after." Ashtar shakes his head. "The mating heat has gripped them both quite fiercely."

"I can tell," I manage as Willa's cries fill the air, along with Gren's snarled responses. Wow. They're literally across the cave from us and going to town on each other. Definitely an awkward moment.

"What I wish to know is if you had something to do with that," my dragon murmurs as he brushes his mouth against my forehead again.

Am I causing them to make out like rabid wombats? "I don't think so. I think that's all his cootie. It was so busy trying to hold his janky system together that it couldn't pay attention to anything else. I guess once I fixed that, things kicked into place."

"Jank-ee? What is this? I don't have that word."

"It means he was held together by paperclips and bubblegum and all the pieces were starting to fail." I look up at my beautiful Ashtar and compare him to Gren. There's just no comparing, not really. Ashtar's like a gorgeous god, and Gren is…well, Gren got the short end of the stick. I'm sure he has a great personality, and then I hate myself just a little for even thinking such a thing. "You know he's got some drakoni in him? I saw it when I saw the claws, and when I was healing him, I felt it. He's got some of the blue guys, too. And some human. He's like a big mishmash of pieces. I don't see how that works."

Ashtar doesn't look surprised to hear that. "The gladiator arenas are…strange places. Sometimes slaves are bred to try and make bigger, stronger slaves for future fights."

"That's not so strange."

"Sometimes they skip the breeding and ask their scientists to 'make' them a fighter."

"Oh, ugh. They're making people? Like in test tubes? Purely so they can fight?"

Ashtar shrugs. "This surprises you? I thought you would have guessed such a thing after seeing Vordis and Thrand."

Now I'm confused. "Because they're twins?"

"Because they are the same. They do not come from the same womb. They come from the same material. They are copies of each other."

"They're clones?" I screech out, and the moaning quiets for a brief second…and then starts up again. Guess Willa and Gren don't care much about clones at the moment.

"They are," Ashtar says. "You are not very observant, my mate."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I've been distracted."

"Is that so?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, see, this big gold goof resonated to me the moment I got a cootie, and he's a bit of an attention hog." I shift in his arms, getting comfortable. It's so nice to lie against him, and I stifle a yawn as he wraps his arms tighter around me. "He's always 'me me me' and demanding I spend time with him. It tires a girl out and makes it hard to notice things like clones."

Plus, who really thinks of clones when they see two similar-looking guys? Really now.

"Mmm. Perhaps this big gold gwoof—"

"Goof, though I do like the sound of ‘gwoof.’"

He tilts my head and nips my ear to shut me up. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of Willa and Gren—and my god, those two are noisy fuckers (literally) and distracting as hell. Then Ashtar continues. "Perhaps this big gold goof wishes to claim his mate and share his fires with her and things keep getting in the way."

I sigh, because they really do. "I want that, too."

He nips my ear again, sending shivers through my body. My cootie starts its engine and I feel a pulse of heat low in my belly. Willa moans again (sounds like he's killing her over there, in the best sort of way), and it only heightens my need. "I don't suppose you want to put your hand down my pants right about now, do you? Because I'm willing to do the same for you. I'm just throwing it out there. Dual handies. Everyone goes home happy."

"No," he tells me, and I want to pout. "You need to rest. The moment you are better, I am shifting to my battle form and taking you somewhere private so I can give you my fires. So we can mate." He drags the tip of his tongue—that textured, textured tongue—against the shell of my ear, and then continues. "And so we can make even more noise than they are."

I bite back my own moan of response. "What about your wing? I still need to heal the other."

"My wing has been destroyed for more than twenty years. It can wait until you take my fires. I would rather have that than anything else." His gaze burns with heat, and I shiver with how much I want him.

"And then we go back to the tribe?" I ask.

He's quiet.

Damn it, not this again. "Ashtar," I warn. "These people need a healer."

"They need to learn to take care of themselves." His mouth flattens in an angry line. "We do not need them."

"Sure we do." I struggle to sit up, pushing off his arms. I don't want him to cuddle me, not right now when I'm trying to be angry at him. "What if I went unconscious like this when we were in the middle of nowhere? Who would have your back?"

Now his unhappy expression flattens into an outright scowl. "No one 'has my back.' I do not need someone to 'have my back.'"

"You do!" I poke his rock-hard stomach that I desperately want to lick if I didn't feel so trampled. "I need training and you need friends. And we both need supplies."

"Bah."

"No 'bah.' I'm serious. I want you to have friends. You don't want to end up like Gren." I keep my voice low for the last part so no one will hear me. Of course, I don't think they'll be able to hear anything over their own noise-making. "People and relationships with people are important."

His eyes flick darker. "The only person I want a relationship with is you."

Is he going to play hardball? Because I can do that, too. "You want a relationship with me?"

"Yes."

"You want me to run off with you somewhere private?" He nods, and I continue. "Then you need to prove to me you can make a friend first. Just one. You do that, and I'll go off to some cave with you and spend however long we need to fulfill resonance, and then we can decide where we want to stay afterward."

Ashtar scowls at me as if I've said something grossly offensive.

"I need to lie here for a few days to regain my strength anyhow, right?" I fake a yawn and flutter my lashes at him. "Plenty of time for you to befriend Hassen. Or Zolaya. Or even Gren or Willa."

"You will hold this over my head? Refuse to mate with me simply because I do not care for others?" Ashtar looks furious, and I can feel his body tensing as he holds me. "You will say this to me after I have watched over you for days, worried about you and cared for you? And now because I do not like other people, you will withhold yourself from me?"

I sigh. When he puts it that way, it is a dick move. "No. I wouldn't hold myself back from you, Ashtar." I reach up and caress his beautiful, angry face, because I need to touch him. "I don't think I could if I tried." His expression softens, and I rub my thumb against his strange golden skin. "I just want you to try for my sake. Is that so terrible a thing? To do something because I'd like it, even if it doesn't match what you want to do? Because I would like to be part of the tribe. You may not need people, but I think I do."

He gazes down at me for so long that I worry he's going to refuse me again. Instead, he takes my hand from his cheek and presses a kiss to it. "For your sake, I will try."

"That's all that I ask," I tell him happily.

25

ASHTAR

V eronica sleeps through the night and into the morning, tired. She wakes up to eat and drink, tucks herself against me, and then promptly falls back asleep again. I know she needs the rest, and so I expect this. Unfortunately, it also gives me a lot of time to think about her request.

She thinks I should have friends.

That I should need people. That I should sit around and talk with them as if they are not going to pass back out of my life again in one day or twenty. And perhaps these people won't. Perhaps it'll be different than it was in the slave pits, where you didn't talk to anyone you encountered, lest you give away your battle “tells” and give an opponent an edge. It did no good to make friends when I might be fighting them the next day or they might die in battle the next morning.

She wants me to make friends, but like Gren's constant growling and snarling, I have been taught by the arena, too. I have been taught that friends are a weakness.

But then again, so is a mate. And I would not trade my Veronica for anything. Being with her makes me want something different for myself, something I never imagined I'd have. A family. A home to call my own. Young ones. None of these things were for a gladiator…but now I want them for me.

So perhaps I will try to make a friend after all.

Just one, though. Not more than that. I only need to show my mate that I am trying to appease her. No more.

The moaning and grunting in Willa and Gren's corner of the cave starts up once more. I roll my eyes at my sleeping mate, because I have been stuck here listening to that all night. It seems that they are very enthusiastically fulfilling resonance.

Over and over and over again.

It makes it difficult to concentrate, especially when my own perfect, desirable mate is asleep next to me. My khui sings its song, but Veronica's is too tired to respond. Just as well, because my need for her grows fiercer by the day. I gently disentangle my limbs from hers, leave her sleeping in the furs, and dress in my loincloth, since such things are important to my mate. I head out of the cave for fresh air and silence. I follow the long path out, lifting my head once before I leave the cave to fill my nose with my mate's scent. She sleeps, her scent sweaty and pleasant. There is no arousal or fear or any scent change that would indicate she's awakened, just the light smell of her in my nose…and the heavy, musky stink of Willa and Gren's incessant mating.

Fresh air. That is what I need.

I emerge from the cave into the weak sunlight of this planet and look around. The sa-khui have set up an encampment at the base of the path, at the bottom of the cliff. Two of them sit near a fire, and a third has recently joined them. He stands nearby, his arms crossed. From behind me in the cave, more cries and growls echo in the air. They were smart to get farther away. I head down the path toward them, my bare feet unaffected by the sharp rocks of the mountainside.

The others look up as I approach, lifting a hand in greeting. I return it with a raised hand of my own and feel strange as I do so.

"How fares your pretty mate?" Hassen asks as I move to stand by the fire.

He thinks she is pretty? A jealous snarl forms in my throat and my body stiffens. Doesn't he have a mate of his own? He—

Someone else shoves a bone cup into my hands. Zolaya. "It is only a polite question," he says. "Hassen has no designs on your mate."

This makes Hassen laugh. "Should I have said she was almost as pretty as my Mah-dee? But her form is not as pleasing? My Mah-dee has the most impressive teats." He sighs and gets a faraway look on his face, and sadness flickers over his face. "I am ready to see her again."

"Soon enough," Zolaya says.

"Everyone thinks their mate is the best looking," the newcomer says. "That is how resonance works."

"Ask Bek how he burned to mate with his Ell-ee even when she was covered in dirt." Hassen grins into his own cup of tea.

Bek must be the new one. I have seen him around camp before but did not bother to learn his name. He scowls at Hassen and that makes me appreciate him more. I do not have to like every person here, I remind myself. I only need one friend to please my mate.

"My mate is my heart," Bek says with a fierce frown at Hassen. "She is perfect. What does a little dirt matter?"

"A little?" Zolaya teases. "Did we see the same female?"

This time Bek glares fiercely at both of them. "Quiet, both of you."

They merely laugh off his unpleasant mood and go back to their tea. Hassen takes a big gulp of his and then looks at me. "You will have to forgive us if all we talk of is mates. We all miss ours. It is hard to be away for a long period of time. Some hunting trips last for hands and hands of days, but you know it will end soon enough. Here…" He shrugs. "We do not know how long we will be."

Zolaya looks sad. Bek looks even more irritated.

"I do not understand. Why do you have to stay if you don't want to?" I take a sip of the tea, but the flavor is bitter and unusual. My Veronica would probably like it. She likes all their teas. Their food, too. I frown to myself thinking of that. If we are not with the tribe, I cannot provide for her like they would. It's a disappointing thought.

"Mardok is convinced the females Lo-ren and Mar-ee-sol yet live. So we continue to hunt for them," Bek says, and he seems irritated by this fact. "And these two will not return, and our chief fears that they will be dangerous to themselves or to the others of the tribe." He gestures up the mountain, where Willa lets out yet another spectacularly loud cry, and all of the males wince. "They would have to leave their furs to be a danger to anyone," he says with a scowl. "Vektal worries too much."

"And then there is you and your Ron-ka," Zolaya says, holding his cup of tea in his hands and looking thoughtfully up at me. "I told my chief you were not a worry, that you merely wished time alone with Ron-ka. Still, he will be glad to see you return."

There is no reproach in Zolaya's gaze, and I wonder if he realizes how much I truly do not want to go back. Still, I find myself oddly pleased that he would speak on my behalf and defend me without knowing my true thoughts. That is…a welcome change. No one has spoken to defend me before. Curious. On a whim, I decide to open up to them, to tell them my mate's demands. "Veronica thinks I should have friends."

"Friends?" Bek echoes. "Bah."

I nod. "Exactly my thoughts." I chug the rest of the tea and set the cup down on the stones. "Where I come from, friends can cost you."

"It is a female thing," Hassen declares with a firm nod. "They want everyone to share clothes and braid manes and talk about kits all day long. They enjoy being around others. They are not like hunters, where we do not have to worry about braiding each other's manes." He reaches out and grabs Zolaya's ugly braid. "Though if you want me to braid your mane, you will have to look prettier."

Zolaya swipes his braid out of Hassen's grip and snorts. "Go on and tell your fierce Mah-dee about how it is a female thing to braid manes and talk. Females are hunters, too."

"The females of my people are the fiercest," I admit. "They fight twice as much as any male. The more bloodthirsty the female, the stronger her offspring."

"And yet you resonated to Ron-ka, a healer," Hassen comments.

"Oh, she is fierce," I tell him proudly. I like talking of my mate to the others. I want them to know how proud of her I am. "She might not fight with claws and fangs, but she is very much in control of herself and she will let me know very quickly if I displease her."

"As is my Mah-dee." Hassen beams. He gestures at Bek. "His Ell-ee is the quietest little thing, but she is strong in ways no one realizes. She was a slave for a long, long time but is still alive and whole."

I grunt. "It takes much strength to survive conditions like that." I can only imagine what a female slave went through. I think of my Veronica, sleeping peacefully in her bed, and my entire body clenches with the need to protect. "I want to make sure my mate is safe here. That no one will touch her despite her healing. It would be…very valuable to a slaver." Just the thought of such a thing makes me sick.

"No one will touch her." Bek nods firmly as if this is already decided.

"I do not know she can be a hunter, though." I think of her squeamishness with dinner. What if they do not want her in their tribe because she is not as fierce as some of the others? It will hurt her feelings, and I hate the thought. "I will hunt for her, but if she is expected to bring in food, it will not happen." I know my tone is defensive, but I don't care. If they want my Veronica to stay, it will have to be on her terms.

Zolaya looks amused. "A healer is special in a tribe. She will always be cared for. Not everyone needs to be a hunter to provide for the tribe. Maylak is a healer and her mate is a tanner. But because they help out with the tribe they are cared for. My mate does not hunt, either. She teaches the kits words and counting. Mah-dee hunts because she likes to." He gestures at Hassen, who is beaming with pride once more at the mention of his mate. "And Bek's Ell-ee is still new and yet recovering from her captivity. When she is comfortable, she will find her place. No one worries about such things."

I do. "A useless slave is a dead slave."

"You are no longer a slave," Bek says harshly. "Our tribe is a family. No one will be pushed out because they are unlikeable or do not give much back."

"If that were the case, you would have been booted a long time ago, eh, Bek?" Hassen says slyly.

"Bah," Bek says again.

I am fascinated by their joking. It reminds me of the verbal sparring I have had in the past with opponents, but these words are said with smiles and no one is offended. The idea is not to anger someone but to tease. Fascinating. "So no one will demand anything of my mate? Already she pushes herself too hard with her healing." I should not be spilling such things because they might be used against us in an arena…

But there is no more arena for me. And I must trust at some point. Veronica would want that.

"You do not look convinced," Zolaya observes.

"I am not," I admit to them. "A gladiator is alone in the world. There are no such things as friends or people to trust. It is much for me to take in. I know my Veronica wants to be surrounded by others, but I struggle with such concepts."

"Tribes are good things," Bek says, nudging at one of the rocks surrounding the fire pit. "It may not seem like it to you, but you left your mate sleeping up there, yes? Why is that? Because we are down here to protect her if she should need it. Sometimes when we hunt, we are away for long periods of time. A tribe keeps mates and kits safe." He studies the fire and then glances over at me. "My Ell-ee needs people around her. She does not like to be left alone. The only reason I can leave the village at all is because I know others will be there to make sure she is not scared. Even then, it is difficult."

I think of my Veronica. I would stay at her side every moment if I could, but I know it is not feasible. Even now, I have retreated out of the cave while she sleeps because Willa and Gren's constant mating noises get under my skin. They are right, though. I would not have left her side if I did not know the cave was completely safe because they are guarding the entrance.

"I will think on this," I tell them.

Bek reaches over and claps a hand on my shoulder. "When your mate wakes and is strong, take her to one of the nearby hunter caves. Fulfill your resonance, take some time together, and then bring her back to the tribe. I can show you where a well-stocked cave is nearby."

I nod at Bek. What he says makes sense. "I would like that. She needs blankets and shelter. The last few days were difficult on her."

"Humans are fragile," he agrees, as if he knows just what I speak of. Up at the top of the cliff, a low, triumphant howl catches on the breeze and Bek grimaces. "The cave I will show you will be more private than this one, so you can mate with your female and not have to worry about everyone down on the beach hearing it."

I grunt acknowledgment. He is not wrong. For some reason, Gren and Willa's sounds carry down into the canyon and can be heard even clearer here. My Veronica would be embarrassed, and I do not want that for her. "Show me, then," I tell him. "She will be asleep for a while."

"Come," Bek says with a clap on my shoulder.

It seems I have a friend. My Veronica would be proud.

26

ASHTAR

V eronica sleeps for three more days and wakes up only long enough to eat or drink or void her bladder. Then she passes out again in a sleepy daze and I am left to fend for myself. I don't mind this too much. I want her to sleep, and I know she's overextended herself. Rest is the most important thing.

But ah, my khui has a hard time understanding that.

I go to bed each night with my mate in my arms, my body aching to claim her. My khui's resonance song grows more insistent with every day that passes, and now my cock is constantly straining and hard. My thoughts are of mating. Always. Constantly. Endlessly. I have to spend time away from Veronica's side because Willa and Gren are torturous to be around.

It does not matter that three more days have passed—they continue to attack each other with feverish need as if they have just discovered what mating is and wish to exhaust every possibility before coming up for air. I loathe hearing their bodies coming together, and Willa's cries, and Gren's feral sounds.

I hate it because I am jealous of it.

I spend time with the other hunters, learning what I can to distract myself. They are oddly sympathetic, and I wonder if their humans led them on a merry chase before succumbing to resonance. Vektal made it sound as if resonance was instant, and I am starting to learn that sometimes it is anything but. They tell me stories of one of their tribesmates, Haeden, who waited a full turn of the moon to claim his mate.

I think I will go mad if that happens. But then I think of my Veronica, and she is worth waiting for.

So I thrust myself into learning what I can to take care of her. Hassen teaches me to set traps. Zolaya shows me how to make tools and to scrape hides so we can make more clothing for ourselves. Bek shows me how to find trails out in the wild—both game trails and sa-khui trails—and how to look for caches. There is a newcomer, Taushen, who has arrived with his pink-haired mate, and he comes up from the beach to spend time around the fire and check on us. He is friendly and has an open face and clearly wants nothing more than to spend time around his Buh-brukh. Sometimes he wants to spend too much time with her, he admits, and forces himself to go hunting. When he does, he walks with me, telling me of different game and how to hunt them. He shows me how to dress an animal in the wild so the blood does not clot in the kill and ruin the taste. I take these opportunities to hunt larger animals to feed my drakoni side, and he is impressed by my size and speed in my battle form.

"If I had such an ability," he tells me, "I would be able to feed the entire tribe in one hunting spree. Imagine!"

I do. And it's not such a strange thing to imagine. As more time passes, I find that I'm becoming more and more accustomed to the idea of a tribe. I like talking to the other males and learning from them. I like the easy camaraderie and knowing that while we are all tasked with similar jobs, we have one goal in mind—to ensure our mates are safe and comfortable and well taken care of. Perhaps this is not such a bad thing after all. Perhaps I, too, would enjoy being in a tribe.

All that is left to do is claim my mate and fulfill resonance. It is the last thing, and it is everything.

Even as Veronica sleeps, though, I worry. I still have not told her that when we mate and I give her my fires she will be taking all of me. Not just my cock and my seed, but my spirit. Our minds will be joined forever.

And I am learning that Veronica may like my kisses, but she might not like sharing thoughts. I worry I should have told her sooner, to give her time to come to terms with the idea, like she has had time to adjust to our resonance. It is too late for such things now, though.

When she wakes up and she is strong and healthy, I will not be able to hold back any longer. I'm going to claim her…and hope she does not hate me when she learns what I have been keeping from her.

VERONICA

One morning I wake up and I feel…good. Nothing hurts, I can lift my head without feeling like it's too much effort, and I'm hungry and excited to go about my day.

I'm also really, really frisky.

I sit up, scrubbing my face and looking around the cave. The fire's nothing but coals, and there's no Ashtar around. I hear a rustling somewhere nearby in the dark and perk up. Then I hear a female giggle and a husky murmur, and one of Gren's unmistakable growls.

Eeek. They're going to go at it again. I've woken up a few times and heard them shamelessly mating nearby, and this morning it makes me feel less embarrassed and more…aroused. My own cootie's purring low in my chest, a reminder that Ashtar and I still haven't fulfilled ours. I need to find him and…

And lick him all over, I decide. That idea running in my head, I slide an outer tunic over my clothing and pull on my boots. When I'm dressed, I pad down the long tunnel that leads out to the cave entrance and into the sunlight. Squinting, I raise a hand to my eyes and look around.

It's snowing. No surprise there. The sunlight is weak but seems bright after spending the last few days in the cave. There's a light breeze making the flakes drift from the sky, and at the base of the long, pebbly ramp to the cave is a fire. I count three dark heads and my golden Ashtar's. One of the men laughs and then gives Ashtar a playful shove on the shoulder. "You call that a spear? My father's old mother could make a better spear."

"Your father's old mother probably hunts better, too," Ashtar tells him, and the men just howl as if this is the funniest thing they've ever heard. Someone takes the spear from Ashtar's hands, mock-throws it and then they all start laughing again.

Tears come to my eyes at the sight of my dragon, laughing and talking with the other men. Has my Ashtar made…friends? How long did that take, I wonder, for him to trust anyone?

Dear god, just how long have I been unconscious?

I must make some sort of noise, because Ashtar looks up at me and his eyes flicker to a deep gold of pleasure. "Veronica. You—"

I step forward, and the rocks under my feet become loose. I lose my footing, slam onto my ass, and then slide down the path with a small scream. Before I can even realize just how far down I'm sliding, Ashtar is there, grabbing me and hauling me upright.

"—you are the same as ever, I see," he tells me with a chuckle, setting me down on my feet and locking an arm around my waist. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just scared myself," I tell him, clinging to his neck. "Thanks for catching me."

"I will always catch you," he murmurs, and his cootie gets as loud as mine is. Oh.

Actually, his is enormously loud. So loud that the others are smirking with amusement. I can't find it in me to care, though. Not when he's holding me this close. I press a hand to his chest, unable to focus on anything but the steady hum of his cootie matching mine. Well no, I take it back. I hear Willa and Gren going at it. Again. I glance over his shoulder at the other blue aliens and then back at Ashtar. "Please tell me I haven't been asleep for months and months."

"Months? No. A few days. How is your strength?" He cups my cheek, studying my face. "Your color is much better."

"I feel much better," I admit, sliding a little closer to him. I'm also highly aroused, and I can feel that I'm getting slick between the thighs at the sound of the sex going on above us. "Uh…have they been like that the whole time?"

"Yes. Just as loud and constant as you imagine."

"Good god."

"The others say that you resonate until a kit has been put in the belly of your mate. Perhaps his seed is having trouble taking hold. Whatever it is, they do not care to join the rest of us." He studies my face carefully. "How does that make you feel?"

"About them?" I whisper. I don't really care about them, other than the sounds they're making are causing my body to react in all kinds of ways. "I'm glad he's feeling better."

"And are you feeling better? Strong?" He leans in and kisses my mouth lightly, and that hunger burning in my belly grows to a fever pitch.

"I guess so…why?" I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything other than his nearness.

"Because I'd like to take you to a private cave of our own." His hand slides down my back. "We'll come back, but I want to be alone with you. What do you think of that?"

Is it my decision? Because right about now, I want to fling my legs around his waist and demand that he carry me to bed somewhere private where we can boink like bunnies. "I think that sounds great."

WE SPEND THE MORNING PACKING. Willa emerges from her cocoon she shares with Gren to come out and hug me and thank me for taking care of him. I think she's a little embarrassed or shy. Both. Whatever. I pat her on the arm and think nothing of it. Or try not to. It's clear from the flush in her cheeks—and the endless moaning—that she's happy. If she's happy, then I'm happy for her. I don't understand it entirely, but Willa's always seen something in Gren that we haven't. Who am I to judge? Ashtar's gorgeous, but he's a hundred percent alien, from his horns and fangs right down to the scales and claws. He changes to a dragon, for crying out loud. I'm certainly not one to judge who anyone falls in love with.

Ashtar helps me dress as if I'm a child, which is kind of sweet. It's clear he's been worried about me and wants to now fuss over me since I'm awake. I don't mind the fussing. It's actually pretty nice to have a big, sexy man tying the laces of my tunic higher and tucking a thick furry scarf into the neck of my outer tunic.

"Give me your hands," he tells me, and I'm surprised when he puts a furry muff over them. After a moment he admits, "I made that for you while you slept."

"You did?" I pet it because it's soft and fuzzy both inside and out. "How?"

"Zolaya showed me. I wanted you to have someplace to put your hands when you were traveling or when I carry you." He studies it and then looks at me, a proud expression on his face. "It is the first thing I have ever made with my hands."

"I love it," I tell him, feeling tears creep in. I think of my big, fierce dragon sitting with Zolaya and making a girly fur muff for me and I can't handle how stinking cute it is. "I can't believe you made it for me."

"I wanted to take care of my mate. I do not like that you had no comforts when we were alone the first time. I will make sure that does not happen again, so I have been learning how to take care of you for when we are on our own again. I know what fuel to burn to make a fire that will last longer, I know how to scrape a hide to make you a blanket, and I know how to find caches of food and caves that are full of supplies left for hunters. This next time, it will be different."

I hesitate, not sure what to say. Part of me loves that he's gone to so much trouble—I'm sincerely touched. But I'm also worried that he's going to want to run off just the two of us again…and never come back to the others. "You're wonderful," I tell him.

He must see the hesitation in my face. Ashtar traces a claw along my jaw. "Only for a while, my sweet fires. Only until we fulfill resonance…unless you want to let the others hear me claim you like Gren does Willa."

I can feel my face heat with embarrassment and I move closer, burying my head against his chest. I'm mortified just at the very thought. "Private sounds good."

Ashtar chuckles. "I thought so. Come, pretty one. Bundle up and let us go."

I'm a little surprised—and a lot pleased—at Ashtar's pleasant mood as we pack up a bag to take with us. He hitches it over his shoulder and then helps me back down the path, to the fire where the others sit, guarding Willa and Gren from afar. As we approach, Bek hands Ashtar his spear, a smirk on his face, and Zolaya tucks a small leather pouch into the pack Ashtar's carrying. "Tea," he says with a smile at me. "My Air-ee-aw-nuh's favorite."

"Thank you," I tell him shyly, determined not to be embarrassed by this. Everyone resonates, I tell myself. Everyone poops. Everyone fucks. The fact that everyone knows we're going to run off and boink like rabbits doesn't mean it's embarrassing. It's a fact of life and it's to be expected. Still, every time my cootie picks up in speed, I get twitchy. Ashtar chats with Bek and Hassen as he straps the spear to the pack, discussing trails and caches and then they step back, clapping my Ashtar on the shoulder in a friendly manner, and nod at me.

A second later, Ashtar's in his dragon form and he picks me up carefully, cradling me in his claws as he brings me to his breast. The warmth of his body envelopes me and I tuck my hands into the fur muff, feeling rather loved. Ashtar takes the pack in his mouth and then we're off through the snow, heading away from Willa and Gren's cave and the beach where the others are waiting for us to come back.

They can wait a few days more. Ashtar's been waiting for me to wake up, and I'm tired of putting others ahead of our resonance. Everyone's healthy. It's time for us to do this thing. It means babies and sex and even though it's only been two or three weeks since I arrived on this planet, I find myself strangely excited at the prospect of the future here. Yes, it's primitive. Yes, I'm going to marry an alien and have his babies in a place with no television, phones, or doctors.

I'm excited about it, because I have Ashtar. With him at my side, this all goes from hell to an adventure. I don't even hate this planet anymore, because I see it as home. I see it as he does—endless potential and freedom. Smiling, I snuggle closer to his scales and press my cheek against their golden hardness, listening to his cootie sing.

27

ASHTAR

I  travel along the trails in my battle form until the suns are close to setting over the ridge of the mountains. My Veronica is happy tucked into my claws and against my breast, and occasionally asks questions that I can answer with a snort of fire for yes, silence for no. It's not much conversation on my end, but it's enjoyable.

She asks if I have ever been on a winter planet before.

Silence. No.

She asks if I knew any humans prior to meeting me. Or any females.

Silence to both.

She asks if I will miss being in the arena.

I think for a minute and give a small snort of fire. Even though it was a very different life and I did not expect to live long, I was good at what I did. I enjoyed fighting and the roars of the crowds. I enjoyed the rush that comes after a fierce battle and the stands are slamming with feet and fists as they shout your name. Will I miss that? I think so. This is a much quieter life.

But it does not mean I would not give it up a thousand times to have my Veronica.

Of course, we have no mental link and she does not understand that this is a question that cannot truly be answered with yes or no. It has layers of complexity. How can I explain with a quick spout of fire that I will miss the physicality and the rush of battle, but not the trappings that come with it? I will not miss eating dry protein supplements because my master has decided that I must be put on an optimal diet. I will not miss being traded from slaver to slaver, my muscles felt and prodded and the endless medical tests to ensure that I am in peak fighting readiness. I will not miss the loneliness. I will not miss the slave collars.

I will not miss any of those things, but I will miss the arena.

Once I tell her this, she grows sad, misunderstanding. I pause and nose her again until she forces a smile to her lips. "Think you'll be happy here with me anyhow?"

I lift my head and blow a huge rush of fire into the air to show her just how happy. She looks surprised and then her cheeks go pink with pleasure. She swats lightly at the claw resting against her belly. "Showoff." But she is pleased.

After that, the questions are easier to answer. Have I killed three men in the arena?

Easy. Yes.

Ten?

Yes.

A hundred?

I think for a moment, then cautiously blow another yes of fire into the air. I have had masters that made me fight several times a day for months on end. I have participated in battle orgies where dozens and dozens enter the arena and only a handful are left standing. I do not remember their faces, but I know there have been too many to count.

After this, the questions change to something else. She tilts her head back and looks up at me. "When we have our baby, would you prefer it be a boy?"

I stop entirely. My tail flicks back and forth, pushing snow across the path behind us. I am stunned.

A baby. Young. Veronica and I will make young. Together.

I knew that resonance was for a biological reason, but this is the first time I have put together the realization that I will be a father soon. Or perhaps this is the first time it has really, truly hit me. A kit, as the sa-khui say. I think, picturing a little human girl with my horns and her mother's eager clumsiness. I imagine a son with golden scales like me and her soft hair. My chest aches with want.

I want them both. Now that I am going to be selfish and picture myself in the future with a family, I want both of them—boy and girl. Two of each, perhaps, if we are thinking grandly. I like that idea.

So I hold her a little closer and let a small bit of flame out.

"A boy, hm? So not a girl?"

I flame again, frustrated at my inability to respond sufficiently. She really is terrible at coming up with the right questions. I make a mental note to tell her just how I feel when I shift back. When I claim her body and fill her with my seed…and she takes my fires. Then our mental bond will be there and this terrible guessing game will not be necessary.

I only hope she's not angry when she finds out what taking my fires truly means.

I spot the cave Bek told me about just up ahead and head toward it with both eagerness and trepidation. I think of the mental bond even as I gently set my mate on the ground and poke my head into the cave to look for inhabitants, as Bek has warned me of. That sometimes snowcats or metlaks make them their homes and it can be dangerous to walk in unprepared. But this cave is empty, and once I pull my head out, I shift back to two-legged form. I sling the pack over my shoulder and take my mate's hand.

"Tired?" I ask her as we head into the cave.

"No, I'm fine." She smiles at me and stifles a yawn.

She is tired. I frown to myself, wondering if we should put this off until she feels better. "Sit," I tell her as I put the pack at the entrance to the cave and pat the surface. She sits atop it and I move inside, remembering the instructions of the others. Through scent, I find the basket of dung chips from the grass eaters and pile a few into the firepit, then blow flame on them. Easy enough. I check through the rest of the cave, just in case, but it is not an extremely deep cave like Willa and Gren's home. This one is little more than a recess tucked between thick rock, and barely has enough room for the rolls of furs neatly stacked along the back wall.

I turn back to Veronica, but she's picking up the pack and dragging it inside. "Let me do that," I tell her, taking it from her hands.

"Oh come on. All I did was sit all day in your claws. I'm not that tired."

"You have pushed yourself hard recently. I would not push you more." I pull one of the stuffed leather stools in the cave—there are two of them—by the firepit and point. "I will make you tea."

She rolls her eyes at me but does as she's told.

I help her pull off all her extra layers and then pour her a cup of the leaf-water tea. As she sips it, I move about the cave, making everything ready for my mate. I unroll the thick furs—all of them—and create her a fine, deep nest of warmth in the back of the cave. I find the dried meat and make her a meal. I pull the cave screen over the mouth of the cave itself so we can be alone together. I set my weapons by the door in case she needs defending.

And then…there is nothing else to be done. My khui throbs in my chest, an urgent reminder of why we came out here. I study my mate's face as she gives me a bright, eager smile. She pats the stool next to her, indicating that she wants me to sit down.

If I sit too close, though…I will not be able to resist her or the call of my khui. And while she might be strong enough to mate right now, I'm not entirely certain she's strong enough to take my fires. I have no idea how that will affect a human.

"Drink your tea," I tell her. "Then you should rest. Sleep."

Veronica makes a face at me. "I thought we came here for privacy. For, you know, other things." And her cheeks pink up.

"We will," I promise her. "But not yet. You need your strength."

"If you're super concerned about my strength, I'm happy to lie back and let you do all the heavy lifting," she tells me, playfully toying with a lock of her hair.

Was ever a male tortured so sweetly? "Soon," I say abruptly. And it will be soon. Perhaps not soon enough for my tastes, but Veronica is worth waiting for. I will not put her at risk.

She looks unhappy at my decision, sighing heavily and drinking her tea in silence. I keep myself busy, working on arranging items in the cave, then I decide I will make my Veronica a spear for herself. It doesn't have to be done tonight, of course, but if I keep my focus on other things, perhaps my khui will listen. So I carve some of the heavy lengths of bone down as the others showed me and work on creating spearheads.

After a while, Veronica sighs again, then moves toward the bed. "I guess I'll go to sleep."

I nod, unable to look at her. Now that we are alone together, my need is that much greater…and that much more difficult to ignore.

She gets into the bed and gazes at me for a long time before eventually turning over and going to sleep. I hate that I have ignored her like this, but I have no choice.

She needs her rest. She does not need a ravenous beast rutting upon her, not when she is so fragile. And at this point, I would indeed be a ravenous beast. My khui is sapping all the reason from my mind.

28

VERONICA

A  gentle hand on my thigh wakes me in the middle of the night. "Mmm?" I roll over, trying to wake up.

"My mate. I need you too much." Ashtar's voice is low and husky, and I can practically feel the hot throb of his cootie making his chest vibrate. "Lie back and let me lick your cunt so I can taste your sweetness."

"Oh." I do as he asks, and a moment later, he nuzzles my belly, sending ticklish skitters of arousal through my body. I'm pantsless at this point, so I must have slept through their removal. All I'm wearing now is a tunic, and he easily shoves it up to my waist, revealing my naked lower half. I smile absently in the dark. "I thought you didn't want to fool around."

"You are not strong enough for my fires," he tells me and then pushes my thighs apart. A second later, he gives my pussy a long, slow lick and groans so loudly it sends a shiver through me. "I need this," he rasps.

God, I need it, too. My cootie's revved up and I'm so hungry for his touch that I'm aching. "I want you," I tell him.

"No," he says.

And that makes me pause. Even as he dives between my thighs to lick me again—the ultimate distraction—I keep thinking about that word. No. No.

No?

What the heck?

I push at him, trying to get his attention. He's ravenous on my pussy, moving over it with greedy strokes of his mouth that make me cry out. "Ashtar, wait. Stop!"

He lifts his head, his eyes gleaming and flashing between gold and cootie blue. "Stop? Why?"

"Because we need to talk!" I'm panting and distracted by his mouth and the way he licks his lips, as if he can't get enough of me. God, do I want him between my thighs again. He can make me come in a matter of minutes with just a few fantastic swipes of his tongue and then I forget about everything else. I don't want to forget about what he just said. I'm confused and hurt by his “no.”

"Talk later. Pleasure now." He lowers his head again.

I snap my thighs shut and put one hand in his hair, tugging at the thick, wiry mane. "Much as I would love that, I can't. Not until you tell me why you don't want me to touch you."

"Because it is too much," he tells me thickly, running a possessive hand up and down my thigh. "I can touch you, but letting you touch me is too much for me to bear."

"Then don't bear it," I exclaim. "I want you, Ashtar. I love you. Let's do this mating thing and make a half-dragon baby. I'm ready. I'm not tired at all. I'm done with waiting and I want you. We're alone, I'm turned on, and you are too. What are we waiting for?"

He lifts his head again and gives me a troubled look, his eyes fading to black.

Uh oh.

"What is it?" There's a hard, awful pain in my heart. "You don't want to be mated to me? Is that it?" I didn't think resonance was something we could fight, but maybe he can? Maybe it's different for every type of alien and he's decided I'm not the one for him. This is awful. I always told myself that I'd be okay if he didn't love me. That I'd understand, but I'm not prepared for this terrible, soul-numbing ache of loss.

I'm utterly in love with Ashtar and it's killing me that he doesn't want me.

"It's not that. Never that!"

"Then what the fuck is it?" I fight back the sob forming in my throat. "I need you to tell me, because I don't think I can stand not knowing. Is it someone else? Are you hurt? Wounded? Do you not want kids?" I gasp, my eyes widening. "Oh my god. You don't want kids? You—"

"Not that," Ashtar says quickly, and he moves over me, cupping my face even as tears spill from my eyes. "Don't cry, my fires. I hate that I've upset you."

"Yeah, well, I freaking hate it, too," I tell him tearfully. "Just tell me already."

He peppers my face with kisses, as if he can't get enough of touching me. His body is on mine, his weight resting atop me, and it feels so good and so right that it makes my need for him physical pain. I'm about to start bawling if he doesn't tell me what the issue is, because I'm terrified I'm going to lose him just as I found him. "I want you. I want your kits. I don't want anyone else. I'm not hurt. It's just…there is something I haven't told you."

A moan of terror escapes my throat. "You're married? I thought you said you hadn't had a mate before—"

"Married?"

"Already mated!"

"What? No!"

He looks so repulsed by the thought that I feel a little better. "Okay then," I ask. "What is it?"

Ashtar groans and presses his forehead to mine. "It is about our mating." When I moan in terror, he continues quickly. "There are things that happen in a drakoni mating that are not…usual."

"What, like anal?" I'm not sure I'm down with the brown hole, but I love him so much I'm willing to give it a shot.

"No, I…wait. What is anal?" He tilts his head and looks so curious that I'm torn between laughing and crying.

"It's sex in the wrong hole. That's not what you meant?"

He looks shocked. "Humans do that?" Then his eyes flare a deep gold of arousal. "Would you do that with me?"

"I might. But first you have to tell me what you're freaking out over so I can appropriately freak out, too." Because I'm about to really, really freak out if he doesn't say what it is soon. "Just spit it out already."

He looks worried and my heart squeezes all over again. Even as he hesitates, he shifts his weight over me, and I open my thighs, locking my legs around his hips. He groans, rocking against me and rubbing his cock—oh god, he's so naked and oh god, it's so good—up and down my wet folds. "Your body is amazing," Ashtar murmurs.

"You're stalling."

My big dragon groans and presses his forehead to mine again. "I am. It is because I do not want you to tell me no."

"Then just tell me what it is!"

He gazes into my eyes, his thumbs stroking my face. All the while, his hips rock against mine, a delicious friction between us that feels so very right that I want to scream with sheer joy. My cootie's purring so hard that my chest feels as if it's an engine. When he strokes forward again, I arch up against him, and the delicious sensations double in intensity.

It's like we can't help ourselves. Like we have to keep moving and rubbing against each other in the world's most deliciously torturous dry-hump. We've waited so long to have sex that even our bodies don't want to hear excuses.

"When a drakoni claims his mate," he tells me, his voice a hard rasp as he reaches between us and slicks his cock through my juices. The head of his thick length drags over my clit and I arch up again, a wordless cry escaping me. "He gives her his fires through a bite."

"Sexy biting," I pant, pushing the tunic up until my breasts are exposed, and his gaze goes there. My nipples are hard and tight, and as he watches, I reach up and tease them, caressing the tips. "You told me that part. I'm down with it. Go on."

Ashtar's liquid gold gaze is locked on my tits. He's utterly fascinated as I pluck and toy with my aching nipples. Maybe I'm being a tease. Don't care. All I know is that I can't stop any more than he can stop his grinding against my pussy—and that I don't want either of us to stop at all. I'm ready. I'm so ready. "When I claim you, I give you my fires. I can only give it to one female and one female alone in my lifetime. It is the ultimate choice." He caresses my cheek even as he surges against me, sliding his cock through the folds of my soaking pussy. "And when I give you my fires, I give a piece of myself and my spirit."

"Okay," I tell him, breathless. I'm about ready to come just from this torturous grinding, but I want to hear what else he has to say first. "Does it hurt you?"

"It is exquisite, I am told." He thrusts up against my pussy again and I bite back a moan. I've never felt anything so good. He hesitates again.

Here it is. Here's the zinger that destroys my life.

"A…bond is created between us when you take my fires."

I rotate my hand in the air, indicating he should get on with it. "And?"

"Our minds will be linked. Forever."

"And?"

Ashtar frowns down at me. "There is no 'and.' That is the problem."

It doesn't sound all that bad to me. "Explain a bit more about the mind-linking. Like…if I get a headache you get a headache?"

He shakes his head, his body going still. "It means that if I wish to speak to you, I do not have to use words. I can think it and you will hear it. It also means that anything you think, I can hear as well. My people are telepathic, and when fires are shared, it means that a communication bond is formed between just the two of you as well."

"Oh." I consider this. On one hand, there'll be no privacy left between us. On the other hand, I'm surprisingly okay with it. Haven't I been adapting to all kinds of changes since I got here? A mental link will be different, but I don't think it'll be bad. Ashtar will always be right there in my head. I'll never be without him again. I kind of like the thought. "So you don't want to share your thoughts with me? Is that it?"

"I want that more than anything. It will bring us intimacy beyond my wildest dreams." His eyes flare with emotion again. "It has been an intensely long time since I have heard anyone's mental voice and I feel the loss of it. But I would not push you into something you are not comfortable with."

"I'm comfortable with it," I tell him, wiggling my hips so his cock rubs up and down again. "Let's have sex now."

Ashtar looks utterly astonished. "You're sure?"

"I'm ok with you being in my head if you're okay with me being in yours."

"There is nothing I want more—"

"Nothing?" I ask, and tease my nipples again.

He snarls wildly and claims my mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. In the next moment, he grabs me by the hips and flips me onto my stomach. Before I can ask what he's doing, he lifts my butt into the air, pushes my thighs apart, and then surges into me.

I cry out in surprise and hot pleasure. God, I knew he'd feel good, but I never expected…holy Jesus. I think I'm coming already. He thrusts into me again, fierce and brutal, and I'm so wet that it feels amazing. With his next thrust into me, I know I'm coming, and a whimper escapes my throat.

"Mine," he tells me, and his voice is laden with such fierce possessiveness that I prickle all over. Our bodies locked, he leans over me again, his back completely covering mine. "My mate," he says, so utterly demanding. His hand knots in my hair and when I tilt my head back, I feel his mouth on my throat. His fangs scrape lightly over my skin before they sink deep.

I cry out, because the feeling is so intense that it's not all pleasure, not entirely. It's hot and deep and the bite has a painful edge to it, but it doesn't matter because I'm coming anyhow. I shudder, his cock deep inside me and my inner walls clenching around him over and over again. It's so good and at the same time, it's far too much.

I climax with what feels like the heat of a thousand blazing suns exploding all at once. It's hard and hot and dirty, and as I clench up, I realize Ashtar's fangs are still sunk deep in my neck. He growls low, the sound muffled but clearly one of pleasure, and then liquid heat pulses in my throat. These must be his fires. I do my best to remain still even as I'm still coming, the feeling so intense I feel like something's going to snap. Ashtar pumps into me once more, and then I'm coming all over again, my body squeezing harder and harder as the fire in my throat spreads outward. It's like the scorching heat is flooding through my veins and the rest of my body, setting me aflame even as I come. I'm lost in sensation, the sweet spike of pleasure that's Ashtar finally claiming me, the hum of my cootie, and everything else. It swirls over me, and then I realize too late that I'm sinking away into a very girly faint.

The last thing I remember is Ashtar gently licking my throat where he's bitten me. Then, nothing.

29

ASHTAR

I  remember the best day of my life fondly.

I had recently been sold to a new master, a connoisseur of fighting slaves. It was an honor to be in his stable, and when an opponent heard you were one of Natu's fighters, it put fear into them. Our fights were always sold-out spectacles. That meant Natu had to be pleased with your performance or you would be cut quickly and sold off to someone else.

Natu liked me, but he said I needed work. That I was too arrogant and too dependent on my battle form to win matches. My shifts to dragon form should be a surprise in battle, a constant unknown, but that I should focus on real strength and my human form to be just as powerful, as fast, and as strong. He did not want me to be weak in one form and strong in the other or I was useless to him.

The evening before my biggest match—a fight to the death—he collared me a second time. My first collar was a constant companion, a combination of shock collar to keep me docile and neutralizer that would stop any telepathic communication. It was made of flexipose, which was a metallic-like substance that could shift and bend with the wearer, so even when I switched to battle form, it adjusted with me. The second collar he put on me was a plain iron ring, but I knew what it was for. If I shifted, it wouldn't. If I tried to switch to drakoni form, I'd behead myself.

For this match, I'd have to do it in two-legged form.

At the time, I was arrogant. I thought I would have it handled and Natu would be impressed. Once I got into the arena, I realized I'd miscalculated badly. My opponent was half Graxiian, a heavy-gravity people known for rock-hard skin, weighty bones, and a general difficulty to kill. This one was also surprisingly fast despite his bulky form. I remember being shocked by that.

I also remember thinking ten minutes later, as the fight continued and his fists broke bones and smashed into my limbs, that I was outclassed. My fangs and claws did nothing to him, and neither did my fire. I remember knowing with certainty that I would die that day, but not giving up. If I was going to die, I was going to give the audience a hell of a show. So I did everything I could to outsmart my opponent. I let him tackle me so I could get close enough to blow fire into his vulnerable eyes. I used discarded slave chains from our entrance into the arena to choke him and trip him. And when my strength was fading, I noticed he had a tell that I would have never seen if I was in battle form. That my half-Graxiian opponent shielded his ankles whenever I attacked.

I remember the fierce elation at that realization. How it gave me the strength to pick my broken, battered body off of the ground and continue fighting. I attacked his ankles with my claws and discovered soft flesh from an old wound that went deep and tore far too easily. My bulky, fierce opponent toppled forward onto his face—and I flung myself on his back and ground his flat, ugly face into the sands of the arena until the breath choked out of him.

Then, I stood up over his dead body and flung my arms out, triumphant. The crowd roared so loudly and stomped their feet so wildly I felt as if the entire universe must have heard my triumph. I remember Natu nodding, pleased. I remember the adrenaline and power—and sheer joy—that coursed through me in that moment as the arena screamed my name.

That was an amazing moment…and yet it is nothing compared to the feeling of possessing my Veronica. Of my cock deep inside her clenching body, my fires flooding through her veins. She has fallen unconscious temporarily, so I lick and nuzzle my bite at her throat, my body seated to the hilt inside her still.

I wait, feeling the glory of her mind as it slowly opens to mine. It has been so long since I have spoken to anyone with a mind-link that I do not recognize it at first. Her thoughts slowly filter into mine, though, and with it comes intense pleasure. Her sleeping thoughts drift lazily back and forth, thinking of me, of how happy I make her, how much she wants to touch me. What our child will look like.

I groan as her thoughts grow louder and louder, until the mental connection between us is as strong as a speaking voice. I close my eyes, savoring it.

I did not realize how much of who I am felt cut away until it was restored. Slavers have no use for telepaths, and the ability has been throttled in one way or another ever since I was enslaved at the age of eight. When I arrived here, uncollared, it returned, only to find I had no one to talk to. Now that a link has been established, I feel…whole.

I also feel surprisingly like weeping, except that is a human reaction, not a drakoni one. Still, the knot of emotion in my throat is as real as anything.

My Ashtar, my mate sighs in her sleep, and pleasure ripples through her thoughts even as her body shifts against me.

Here, I tell her, licking the bite on her neck again. Always right here.

There's a hint of surprise in her mind, and then the dream-fog clears away and her eyes flutter open. She moans low, and I can feel her body responding to mine. How intense it feels for her to wake up and realize I'm still buried deep in her cunt, filling her. Oh my god, she thinks. He feels so… Her thought breaks off into a bone-deep shudder. "Was I asleep for long?"

Not long, I tell her, and gently lick her throat again. How do you feel?

"Fine, I think." She frowns a little. "Head hurts a bit."

Because of my thoughts?

Realization dawns on her as she grasps that I'm talking to her without moving my lips. Oh.

Should I stop?

No, I…I like it. Another full body shiver moves through her, and she's thinking of my cock, filling her up so deep. I'm still getting used to…everything.

I slide my hand down her arm, caressing her. Do I feel too hot against your skin?

Too hot? No, you feel good. She trembles again, as if another orgasm is racing close to climax. Really good. Did you come? She thinks of our joined bodies but doesn't feel the wet stickiness that comes with my spend.

Not yet, I reassure her. I had to wait.

For what?

For your body to be ready. I glide my claws lightly over her tender skin. For you to be able to take my seed. You have to have my fires, first, or I would burn your womb.

So you've just been…waiting? She thinks of me and my hard cock, my body pressing over hers and invading her in every way. A little moan escapes her throat. Isn't that hard?

Very. I send her a flurry of images of just how deep and forcefully I want to thrust into her, and her cunt tightens around me with pleasure. But you are worth waiting for.

Veronica moans aloud again. Can we start? Are you ready?

I have waited a lifetime to be ready. I press my back against her as we lie, side by side, and nip lightly at the bit of shoulder revealed to me. Her tunic is still bunched up past her breasts, and I remember the way she teased them earlier. It is my turn now. I reach forward, caressing the tips, and her cunt shudders around my cock. She lets out a soft cry, closing her eyes and pushing back against me, as if she can work my cock deeper into her body.

My glorious, beautiful Veronica.

I tease the tips of her breasts, caressing and flicking until they are hard and aching. I love our mental connection, because now I can feel which touches make her react deep inside, and where she wants my hands next. I coax her breasts until they are aching and she's so aroused that she's rubbing back against me, little whimpers escaping her as I nibble at her throat and send a barrage of mental images of my mouth on her nipples.

Veronica moans, rocking her hips back against mine. "Please, Ashtar." And then I hear it in her thoughts. Please, my love.

Already she has learned how to tease me best. My resolve to take her slowly and tenderly dissolves to dust, and with a growl in my throat, I pump into her. She cries out with joy, and I can feel her pleasure exploding through her mind. Our prior touches feel like a pale shadow compared to how it is now, with our minds linked. The joy is exquisite, and I cannot stop myself as I thrust into her, hard and rough.

I can tell—I can feel—that she loves every surge into her. Her cunt grips me tight, and within moments, she's quaking, on the verge of a climax. Close, but not quite, and I'm shocked when she sends me a mental image of my hand between her thighs as I pump into her. She's telling me what she wants. Carefully, mindful of the sharpness of my talons, I lightly caress her clit even as I thrust into her.

She comes with a cry, the inner walls of her cunt squeezing my cock so tight and so pleasurably that it sends me over as well. I pound into her soft body, unable to stop myself as I empty my seed into her warmth. My heat floods into her, and I can sense the surprise of her response and the gentle pleasure she feels as I come. She didn't expect to feel my release, not like that.

I bury my face against her hair, shuddering with the force of my release. I clench her tight against me, because I never want to let her go ever again. My mate.

I'm here, she tells me softly. I love you.

In this moment, I know complete and utter joy.

30

VERONICA

T  he mind-link takes a little getting used to, at least on my end. When I wake up (after drowsing off once more) and think about how I need to pee, Ashtar slaps my flanks. Then get up, my lazy, beautiful one.

So that's awkward. Kind of cute, but also kind of awkward. Him calling me beautiful takes the edge off of it, though. And as we move around the cave that morning, it's weirdly quiet—because we're talking in our heads. Or rather, Ashtar's talking in mine. I'm still trying to absorb everything.

He's so damn…happy. Like I didn't think he was unhappy before, but there's sheer joy in his mind now. He loves our mental connection. Revels in it. I can feel his fierce possessive thoughts as he thinks of me, and they feel like candy-coated happiness. So much telepathy makes my head twinge with a hint of a headache between my brows, and it feels oddly familiar. I've had similar headaches a few times in the last couple of weeks, and I wonder if that was because Ashtar was trying desperately to send his thoughts to me in the past.

It makes me feel guilty that I wasn't able to receive them until now, because the mental connection brings him such happiness. It's such a small thing that clearly is everything to him.

I feel a little shy after last night, though. It's silly, of course. The man's claimed every inch of me as his own. I shouldn't feel awkward about that at all, and yet I find myself blushing every time I move and get a sore twinge between my legs. Of course, then he smirks and gets one of those expressions of masculine pride on his face which just makes me even more embarrassed. It's something we'll have to get through. It's not bad, just strange realizing there's no privacy anymore…and being okay with it.

Ashtar puts tea on the fire and pulls a few roots out of one of the baskets of supplies, slicing it open with his claws and then laying it on the hot stones to cook. Not for him, I pick up from his thoughts, but for me, because he thinks I'll like them. Aw. My dragon's a big softie. He must have been hard at work learning all this stuff while I was asleep.

I wanted to know how to take care of you, he agrees, his thoughts drifting through mine. Your comfort is important to me, especially if we have young.

Young. Oh boy. I think of my sore pussy again, my cheeks heating, and just how much come he emptied into me. There was no condom that'd hold that load, and then I blush harder at my crude thoughts. I wonder if one of those super-heated swimmers found its way home already or if we're going to have to go at it for days on end, like Gren and Willa.

I am quite happy to do that, Ashtar tells me cheerily.

"I'm sure you are." At least we have privacy, I think as I stir the pouch of tea hanging over the fire. I can't imagine going through this back at the beach camp, where there's nothing but tents and the breeze to carry all your moaning to everyone's ears. I do want to go back, because I don't think I can live in isolation out here. Just…not yet. Not until our cooties are settled.

We will go back, Ashtar promises me. It is not so bad to have friends.

I look up from my stirring, surprised. "You mean that? Really?"

I do. But now that we have our minds linked, do not expect me to say much to you aloud. I prefer this intimacy. His eyes turn to liquid gold and a smile curves over his fangs. And I plan on sending you thoughts of mating all day and all night long so you will know just how much your drakoni wants his mate.

Like Ashtar needed encouragement to be a horndog. "This coming from the man who introduced himself by showing off his dick to everyone."

Not to everyone, he corrects. Just to you. You were the only one I was ever interested in. The others were just in the way.

Oh my gosh, he's melting my non-existent panties all over again with just a few thoughts. My cootie begins to purr again, the song growing bold and demanding immediately. I put a hand to my breast, feeling it throb in my chest—and throb between my thighs. No wonder Willa and Gren are constantly tearing at each other. I'm immediately full of hungry need for my mate. Yeah, we're not traveling for a while. Not until we get this overwhelming lust out of our systems.

Not entirely out of our systems, I hope. Ashtar's eyes gleam gold, his blood as heated as mine.

"Never," I tell him.

Good. Get on your belly, then. He gets to his feet and rips off his loincloth, revealing a cock already enormously thick and hard.

"And they say romance is dead," I murmur, breathless as I move to the blankets and pull off my leggings. "Can we do it facing each other this time?" Much as I like doggy style, I also love the thought of watching him as he comes.

That stops him in his tracks. He cocks his head at me, utterly confused, and I can feel his mental images as he tries to put the pieces together. Will your breasts not get in the way?

I snort, doing my best not to laugh at him and failing. "Uh, no? It'll be nice. I promise." I tear my tunic over my head and then open my arms for him.

Very well. He moves onto the blankets next to me. When I lie down, though, he doesn't immediately move for me. He just watches me.

Everything okay? I ask, because he's staring at me so intently that I don't trust my voice.

I am thinking how I am the luckiest male that ever lived. He reaches out and brushes his knuckles over my cheek. To think that I was stolen from my planet to be a gladiator and somehow ended up with the finest mate in three worlds…I am beyond lucky. This is a good life.

And now I'm going to cry, because that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. It's on the tip of my tongue to modestly deny that I'm that wonderful, but I can feel his thoughts. I know in his eyes I am truly amazing and beyond compare, because I can feel it. It's humbling, and I lean in to kiss him, wishing I could show him a tenth of how I feel about him.

Your mind tells me everything. There is no need to show.

Here you thought I would hate a mind-link, I tease, sliding my arms around his neck and pressing my breasts against his hard chest. He feels so good to rub up against.

I did not want to push you into it, he tells me. Not when so many other choices have been taken from you.

That's one of the reasons I love him so much—that even though my Ashtar is stronger than me in every way, his first concern is always for me and how I feel. I would never hate being bonded to you. Never ever. Privacy is overrated. Your love constantly going through my head through all hours of the day? Beyond wonderful.

I am glad, he tells me, sliding a hand up and down my side. I love being this connected to you. I didn't realize how much I wanted it until now. He leans closer and nips lightly at my lower lip, sending shivers through my body. I moan, and when he pulls back, I press forward, kissing him even harder. Kissing him feels like heaven, and when he begins to fuck my mouth with his tongue, I can't resist rocking my hips in reaction. It's like every time his tongue slides against mine, I lose all concept of time and space. There's only Ashtar and his delicious, textured tongue rubbing me in all the right ways.

Then he kisses lower, nipping at my jaw and then down my throat. I love these breasts, he tells me as he kisses the slope of one and gently scores his teeth over my skin. I love how your little nipples get so tight when I touch you. It's like they're begging for my mouth.

And his lips enclose over one tip, and it feels like I'm about to explode already. The breath whimpers from my throat as he drags his tongue over my nipple, teasing until it's stiffer than I thought possible. Each rasping slick against my skin feels as if it's between my thighs, and I rock against him, moaning my need and frustration. "Please, Ashtar. Please." His big body is pressing mine into the blankets, my legs locked around his hips as he takes his sweet time toying with my breasts. One big hand cups one while his mouth works the other. I always thought it was crap when women said they could come from boob play alone, but after this, I could believe it. I feel so ready to come that I'm squirming with need against him.

"Want you inside me," I tell him, panting. "Now. Right now."

Not yet. We are barely beginning. He gives my breast a leisurely flick with his tongue, his gaze locked on me. I plan on teasing these pretty nipples until you scream, and then I'm going to lick your cunt for hours. He drags his tongue over one nipple. Hours and hours and hours.

Oh god. I'm going to die before then. He's going to kill me. Death by orgasm. I need to find a way to speed him up. I want him to lose control—like I'm desperately close to doing—so he can push into me and fuck me with that big golden cock of his, and then we both get what we want.

He growls low in his throat, a sign that he's listening in to my thoughts and heard that.

Good. I want you to hear that. I reach lower, caressing his ass and squeezing hard. It's like rock, his muscle here, and I've never wanted to bite a rock so much in my life.

I'm going to take my time with you, Ashtar tells me.

But what if I want a quick, dirty fuck? I imagine him over me, thrusting hard and fast, and he sucks in a breath. Oh wow, so I don't even have to “think” it for him to pick it up? Now there's something. I carry on with that train of thought, pushing the boundaries. I mentally picture him with my hands pinned over my head, my breasts bouncing as he thrusts into me so hard that our bodies are sliding across the furs. I get filthy with my mental images, too, adding in how it'd feel, how wet I'd be and the slick sounds my pussy would make as he rams into me—

One clawed hand snarls in my hair, pinning me as he gives me the world's fiercest kiss. I shiver with delight as he ravages my mouth, his thoughts a hot, heavy press into mine. You want me to take you hard?

Yes, I tell him eagerly. That's exactly what I want.

Then you'll wait until I'm ready. He kisses me again, and his hand slides between our bodies, cupping my pussy. This is mine. I'll take it when I know you're ready.

Oh god, that is so damn sexy. I whimper against his ravaging mouth, turned on beyond all control. My pulse is a heady throb between my thighs and I'm aching for him to fill me up. I'm ready.

I'll be the judge of that. He pushes his knuckle into my core, teasing me. You're wet, but I bet my tongue could get you wetter.

I moan against his mouth as he slicks his tongue against mine, sending me visuals of doing just that same movement between my thighs. There's an extra level of intensity between us thanks to the mental bond, and feeling his excitement and arousal only heightens mine.

Are you going to come for me? It's less of a question and more of a demand, and he glides his knuckle out of my slick core and circles it around my clit. I nearly come out of my own skin at that small touch, crying out against his mouth.

I clench my hands in his hair as he continues those slow, maddening circles, teasing me over and over again. I can't believe I'm so close to coming already, but he won't stop, those tiny movements driving me over within moments. I come hard, gasping against his mouth as I climax.

As I said, he tells me, his thoughts full of thick satisfaction. This is mine.

Then claim it. I slide my leg over his hip. Take me. Show me what you've got. Am I impatient? Yes. Do I care? Not in the slightest. I'm still quivering deep inside with the force of my orgasm, but he's pressed against me, his cock an iron bar of need against my thigh, and I'm so hungry for more that it's like an ache inside me. The itch hasn't been scratched. Not yet. Not entirely.

Ashtar bares his teeth at me in a feral grin, and then I feel the head of his cock pressing against my core.

Oh, yes. I close my eyes, lifting my hips in silent encouragement, trying to nudge him deeper into me.

My sweet tease of a mate, he tells me, lips brushing against my jaw. So greedy. But he teases the head into me again in the barest of thrusts.

I whimper, clinging to him. "Ashtar, if you don't fuck me now, so help me…"

You'll…what? But he pushes into me deeper, no longer a promise but something real and hard and delicious. I arch against him, and when he thrusts again, his hand locks on my hip so our bodies move together. His next pump into me is deeper, rougher, and the next one after that even more so. He kisses me even as he rocks into me again. I like mating like this, he decides. Your breasts tease my chest when I fuck you, and I can see every expression on your face as I claim you. And your mouth, he tells me with another kiss, is mine to take. Just like your cunt.

I cry out as he pumps into me, starting a forceful rhythm of pounding thrusts. Each one seems more perfect than the last, and I'm writhing underneath him as he takes control. It's like he could go on forever, while I'm already on the brink of yet another hard orgasm. My toes curl as he claims me with every perfect, teasing stroke until I'm coming all over again, lost in pleasure.

As he surges into me, he clasps me hard against his chest, his body piercing me so deeply I swear I feel it in my soul. Mine, he tells me as he shudders over me. My Veronica.

And I love that I belong to him.

A FEW HOURS LATER, I wake up curled against my mate and realize that the constant, insistent humming of my cootie has changed. It's still purring happily—especially since I'm pressed skin to skin against Ashtar—but there's a subtle difference. The urgency is gone and it feels sated.

I think Ashtar's super-heated dragon sperms must have found their mark pretty quickly. Unlike Gren and Willa, we're not going to be madly boinking for days on end. It's almost disappointing. I thought there would be more to it, but two good nuts and my dragon's knocked me up. Either I'm really fertile or Ashtar's shooting a full payload. Huh.

A rumble of amusement moves through my thoughts. You are disappointed? Truly?

Well, I thought it would be more difficult for us, given the whole Willa and Gren thing. I thought there'd be more to it.

He rubs his nose against my neck, his breath hot on my throat. There can always be more to it, my fires. This doesn't mean I'm done with you. Not in the slightest.

That so? I slide my hand down his back and knead one of his hard buttocks. So. Damn. Yummy.

Never. As long as there are stars in the sky and fire in my blood, I will be hungry for you. He nips at my throat with those deadly, delicious fangs. Always, my Veronica.

I could hear that a million times and never grow tired of it. Ever.

EPILOGUE

VERONICA

"How is it?" I ask eagerly as he tests his new wing out. My hands are clasped under my chin and this feels like Christmas morning.

The big dragon noses me. I have not tried it yet. Give me a chance to fly.

"Well, you're stalling," I tell him, practically quivering with excitement. "Show off to the crowd."

Everyone's gathered on the beach to watch. For once, my flashy, showy Ashtar isn't strutting his stuff. He just keeps unfolding and folding his newly healed wing, testing it over and over again.

After resonance was fulfilled, I immediately wanted to finish healing my dragon's wing. Ashtar didn't want me to do it while we were hiding out in a cave, in case I overtaxed myself again, so we compromised and returned to the beach. I was touched to find that the others had set aside a tent just for us and decorated it with a few garlands of leather roses as a nice “honeymoon” touch. We were welcomed back with open arms and a ton of teasing, but it feels good to return. It feels like coming home. No one else has resonated, Willa and Gren are still hiding up in their cave, and Marisol and Lauren are still missing.

Some things change and some things stay the same, I guess.

There were a few questions about Ashtar's shape-changing, since he'd never explained it to anyone. I'm surprised that everyone takes it in their stride as much as they do, but I guess on a planet like this, given all the alien visitors that have shown up over the last while, you've got to learn to handle the hits as they come. Vektal's actually really pleased with Ashtar's dragon side, because he sees it as the ultimate defense of the camp. Apparently, there are these big bird things called “skyclaws” that like to attack, but with Ashtar in his dragon form, Vektal thinks we'll be unbothered.

Despite Ashtar's big words about not needing anyone, he likes to be important and needed. He spends a lot of time with Vektal, discussing the best ways to patrol and keep the Icehome village safe. No one's talked about joining the others in their village yet, and I understand why. There, we'd be more outsiders. Here, we're making a home for ourselves. I don't want to leave either.

Once we've settled in again, I waste no time in nagging—ahem, sweetly begging—Ashtar to heal his other wing. This time, I'm a lot more mindful of my own strength, and we heal one small bit at a time, scar by scar, taking hourly—sometimes daily—pauses for naps. I'm not thrilled at going so slow, but at least I'm not passing out all the time. Ashtar and I have discussed what we'd do and where we'd go if he could fly, and we've decided that we'd visit Vektal's tribe and see what I could learn from Maylak, the other healer. I've even started to put together a leather saddle of sorts, because I'm going to be a badass dragonrider instead of just hanging out in my dragon's claws. I haven't mentioned the saddle to Ashtar yet, because I don't want him to feel like he's letting me down if his wing doesn't work.

You forget I can hear your thoughts, my fires. You think I don't know about your saddle?

Shit. I always forget.

I know you do. It is adorable. He nuzzles my hair again and then flexes his wing once more. Will it disappoint you if I can't fly?

Only in the sense that I'll have failed you, I tell him.

You have never, ever failed me, Veronica. Never say such things.

But—

If you keep thinking along those thoughts, I will shift back to my two-legged form and lick your cunt until you scream an apology for the world to hear.

Yeesh. I can feel myself blushing. Fine, fine. There's definitely been a lot of teasing about the nocturnal (and afternoon, and morning) noises coming from our tent, but I'm getting used to that sort of thing, too. I don't even mind the ribbing, because I've got the world's handsomest alien for a husband and I've been well-pleasured every night. Kinda hard to stay mad when you're in a state of constant endorphin release. You get to do that to me if I get to do the same to you.

I like this idea.

I thought you might. I gave him a real, official blowjob shortly after we returned to the beach, now that I can safely “take his fires” and won’t get burned by the heat of his body. It seems that my own body temperature has increased to match his, because I’ve been wandering the beach in light layers compared to the others. At any rate, I can give Ashtar head as often as I want now, and since he tastes surprisingly like cinnamon and loves it when I touch him, it’s been…often. And it’s been a lot of fun. Even now, I’m getting all tingly just thinking about getting before him on my knees and taking him in my mouth.

You are distracting me, Ashtar warns.

"Well?" Bridget calls out from behind us. "Are we doing this or not?"

I love Bridget. I do. She's fun and funny and has a real optimistic attitude despite her sarcasm. But right about now I want to punch her in the mouth for trying to rush my dragon. She can't possibly know what he's feeling, the emotions in his head.

Amusement curls through my mind. I love that you get violent in your defense of me.

I just don't want anyone pushing you if you're not ready. You don't have to show off for anyone.

Don't I? They are all gathered here to see me fly.

He's not wrong. Everyone in the tribe has come out to the beach early this morning because they want to see Ashtar fly once more. Pregnant Angie leans on the arm of Hannah, and Harlow leans on Rukh. Liz and Raahosh watch with their arms crossed, whispering low to each other, and even the big red guys—the clones—have shown up, though I think they're watching Angie more than Ashtar. The humans are all huddled together, sitting on blankets as if this is just any other day at the beach, their eyes expectant as they watch Ashtar pace and test his new wing out again. My dragon-man is popular in the tribe because of his ready smile and bold teasing. The girls all love him. The guys get along great with him. I think everyone likes him more than me, and I'm the damn healer. I'm okay with that, though, because he's mine and he lets me know it all the time.

I know he's nervous. It's not like Ashtar to be nervous, but he is. Fuck them, I tell him. You don't owe anyone anything.

More amusement rumbles in my head. It is not them I worry about disappointing. It is you.

You could never disappoint me, I tell him fiercely. Never. I love you. If you need another week, another year, another lifetime, I don't care. I just want you to be happy.

The dragon moves back toward me. He lowers his head and noses me once more. I am happy. I am beyond happy. You know this.

I do. I pat the side of his snout affectionately.

He bares his teeth in a dragonish grin, and then a moment later, he's flinging himself into the air. Sand and pebbles spray everywhere, leaving me sputtering and the crowd squealing. I don't care, though, because a moment later, Ashtar's pure joy blooms through my mind.

He's doing it. He's flying.

I shield my eyes, looking up as he takes to the sky, going higher and higher as effortlessly as if he's always flown. How does it feel? I ask him, anxious and thrilled both at once.

Amazing. There's a little stiffness, but it's working itself out. Utter joy floods through his mind again. I'm flying, Veronica. I'm flying again.

You are, I tell him proudly, and wipe tears from my eyes. I watch as he sails around the skies, a golden gleam moving high enough to touch the clouds, then diving back down again. A few people behind us on the beach clap, and there's a lot of excited chatter as we watch him sail through the air, as effortless as any bird. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I'm so proud that I want to sob like a baby. I try to keep my thoughts bland, though, because I don't want to distract him from his moment. The emotions rolling through his mind are indescribable. There's sorrow and grief, elation and hunger and a driving, restless need to push himself. There's pride and relief and above all, complete and utter joy. So much joy.

Eventually, he begins a lazy circle back down to the ground. I want to ask if he's tired, but I don't dare interrupt this moment. If it's a muscle he hasn't used in a while, he just needs to practice it again. The important thing is that he can fly. Everything else will work itself out.

I remain perfectly still as he angles his wings and lowers his haunches, moving to the ground. He flaps them hard and then thumps onto the sand a short distance away. I wipe more grit out of my eyes, and when I open them, my dragon's changed back to his human-ish form, crouching, his hands braced on the beach, his head lowered. Oh. I immediately surge forward to his side, my healing instincts flaring. Ashtar? Are you all right?

He lifts his head and his eyes are shot through with pure gold. My big alien's arms lock around my waist and he buries his face against my chest. Veronica.

I can feel the emotion surging through him. I stroke his hair back from his face, mindful of the horns at his brow. Best day ever? I tease.

No. He looks up at me. That was when I met you.

Mine, too.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I'm so happy to be back on the ice planet, guys! I've missed it so. I know it feels like forever between books sometimes, but in my case, I really, really feel it. I meant for VERONICA'S DRAGON to happen about two months or so ago, but life got in the way. At any rate, it's here now! I really hope you enjoy it. I loved writing Ashtar and his clumsy mate.

A couple of housekeeping notes. I've had people inquire about the snippets I share on Facebook. Why does Ashtar act one way when the drakoni in the Fireblood Dragons series act another? That's simple - they were raised differently. Kael, Dakh, Rast and crew spent their adult lives in a drakoni culture. They communicate the way the drakoni do, and their actions reflect that. Ashtar was stolen at a young age and raised by slavers to be a pet and a gladiator, so his actions are going to reflect such things. He has vague memories of life back on his planet, but he's an entirely different sort of person. He'll still have some of the same physiological responses - the possessiveness, the quick temper, the need to mind-link with his mate - but he's a flirty chatterbox instead of silent and broody like the other drakoni because that's what he's learned to be as a (former) slave.

I've also been asked if Ashtar suffers from the insanity that the drakoni in the Fireblood Dragons series suffer from. He doesn't. Is it because he didn't go through the Rift? Is it because of Earth's atmosphere? Either way, he's again VERY different from those, kind of like how our sa-khui are different from the mesakkah, even though the race is the same.

I've been asked about our Earth timeline, too. Are the humans aware that in the Fireblood Dragons series there was a massive apocalypse? My answer: they're not aware, exactly, but as noted in this book, there's a distinct date cutoff for the slaves that were picked up. I hope that answers that question in a vague roundabout Ruby-ish way.

Speaking of timelines, you'll notice that the island isn't a factor at all in Veronica and Ashtar's story. That's because this takes place in that window when Lauren and Marisol are on the island. I like to think of this as a parallel to LAUREN'S BARBARIAN and that THE BARBARIAN BEFORE CHRISTMAS happens after both Icehome books so far. I hope that makes sense. I swear it all makes sense in my mind, though you might need a flow chart at some point.

Next up in Icehome will be WILLA'S BEAST. Yassssss. It'll be more or less parallel with what's been happening to Lauren and Veronica, since it all kind of explodes on everyone at once when they arrive. After that, we'll catch up with the merging of the tribes on the shore and then move the story forward. I know some of you are impatient with me for not pushing ahead but I want to give each couple their due. If that means the storyline crawls ahead for a little bit, well, it crawls. There's a method to my madness, I swear! I'm not ready to leave the ice planet anytime soon, so I figure it'll take as many books as it'll take and we'll roll with it. After Willa and Gren, I haven't decided if we'll flip back to Marisol or just push forward with some of the new resonances that happened on the beach as the island tribes arrived.

What's the next release for Ruby? Right now I'm working on FIRE IN HIS...SOMETHING. I'm not sure what it is yet, but he's got something on fire (ha). It's the next Fireblood Dragons. It was supposed to be done in April but it's the end of May as I write this and, yeah. Things happened. After dragons, I have a few stories planned but I'm not 100% sure about the order - Corsairs #4, Marlene's story in IPB, Gail's story, Willa's story, etc. Please be assured I'm going to get to everyone! No character left behind!

Much love,

Ruby <3

LAUREN’S BARBARIAN

A lush, tropical island on an icy planet makes no sense.

Then again, not much makes sense anymore after waking up and finding myself not in bed but on a strange world populated by aliens. Since that moment, I’ve learned that nothing is normal anymore and I’ve got to roll with the punches. I can handle this, though. I’m strong and capable.

So… washed up on a tropical island? Got it handled.

Separated from the others in my group? Handled.

Stranded alone with a brutal but delicious alien man that can’t speak English but has great…ahem…body language? Yup, handled.

Add in the fact that my cootie – a symbiont I need to survive – has chosen my big, hulking alien friend as my fated mate? Let’s just say that the situation isn’t the only thing that’s going to be handled.

But it isn’t long before I learn that the tropical island paradise is a death trap and we’re all in grave danger, aliens and humans alike. To survive this, I'll need my tempting guy to give me a hand with the situation…good thing he's got four of them.

This romance features all of the adventure, humor and community you’ve come to expect in the Ice Planet Barbarians series, but it stands on its own. You do not need to read the other series (or be caught up) in order to read LAUREN'S BARBARIAN. Enjoy!

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ICE PLANET BARBARIANS

Want to know how it all started? Need to read Chief Vektal’s story? Addicted to big blue aliens? You need to try my other books, my friend! As always, my stories are free to read in Kindle Unlimited!

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BOOK 1 OF ICE PLANET BARBARIANS

YOU'D THINK BEING ABDUCTED BY ALIENS WOULD BE THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN TO ME. AND YOU'D BE WRONG. BECAUSE NOW, THE ALIENS ARE HAVING SHIP TROUBLE, AND THEY'VE LEFT THEIR CARGO OF HUMAN WOMEN - INCLUDING ME - ON AN ICE PLANET.

AND THE ONLY NATIVE INHABITANT I'VE MET? HE'S BIG, HORNED, BLUE, AND REALLY, REALLY HAS A THING FOR ME...

CAST OF CHARACTERS

The New Arrivals (Icehome Tribe)

Lauren/Lo – Adult female at the beach camp. Once had glasses. Likes to be a problem solver. Resonates to K’thar.

Marisol – Terrified adult female at beach camp who is fond of hiding. Gets stranded with Lo on the island. Resonates to T’chai.

Hannah – Vektal’s self-proclaimed assistant. One of the females at the beach camp. Resonates when the island tribes arrive.

Angie – Adult female at the beach camp. Pregnant with mystery baby. Focus of twin fascination.

Willa – Adult female with a southern twang. Lo’s friend. Stolen by Gren…theoretically. Resonates to Gren.

Gren – Beastly, feral ex-gladiator male. Attacks on sight. Steals Willa away from camp…or does he? Resonates to Willa.

Veronica – Newest healer on the planet. Resonated to Ashtar upon arrival. Bit of a klutz, otherwise bland.

Ashtar – Flirty golden ex-gladiator and former slave. Drakoni male who can shapeshift to a ‘battle form’ as a dragon and has the ability to communicate telepathically. Resonates immediately to Veronica. Stud.

Vordis – One of the red ‘twins’, ex-gladiators of a race called a’ani. Clone of Thrand.

Thrand - One of the red ‘twins’, ex-gladiators of a race called a’ani. Clone of Vordis.

Tia – Teenager at the beach camp.

Nadine – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

Callie – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

Bridget – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Friend to Veronica.

Steph – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

Raven – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

Penny – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

Devi – Chatty adult female at beach camp. Ex-scientist.

Flordeliza – Adult female at beach camp.

Samantha – One of the adult females at the beach camp.

From the Old Tribe (Croatoan)

Vektal – Chief of the Croatoan tribe. Mated to Georgie (human) and father of two daughters.

Rokan – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Lila.

Bek – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Elly.

Raahosh – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. Messed up horns. Mated to Liz and has daughters back in the village. Generally unpleasant to be around (except to his mate).

Liz – Snarky human mate to Raahosh. Her children are back at Croatoan.

Salukh – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Tiffany.

Ereven – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Claire.

Hassen – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Maddie.

Zolaya – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Ariana. Takes on a paternal interest in Veronica.

Pashov – One-horned hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Stacy.

Cashol – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. His mate is Megan.

Rukh – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe and ex-outcast. His mate is Harlow and his son Rukhar is back in Croatoan village.

Harlow – Mate to Rukh, mother to Rukhar. She assists Mardok with technology stolen/looted from the broken ships. Very pregnant.

Farli – One of the few sa-khui females. Mated to Mardok, and has a pet dvisti named Chompy.

Mardok – Ex-soldier who has chosen to remain on the ice planet. Technology guru. Mated to Farli.

The Island Clans

(Not in this book)

Clan of the Strong Arm

K’thar – Hunter, de-facto leader of Strong Arm, resonates to Lauren/Lo

J’shel – Hunter of Strong Arm, resonates to Hannah

N’dek – Hunter of Strong Arm, recently lost a leg in a kaari attack

I’chai – deceased female, mother of Z’hren

Z’hren – Orphaned child of Strong Arm

Fat One/Kki – nightflyer pet of the clan

Clan of the Tall Horn

R’jaal – Clan leader of Tall Horn

T’chai – Hunter of Tall Horn, resonates to Marisol

M’tok – Hunter of Tall Horn, resonates at end of book

S’bren – Hunter, brother to M’tok

Clan of the Shadowed Cat

I’rec – Clan leader

O’jek – Hunter

A’tam – Hunter, said to be the handsomest on the island

U’dron – Hunter

WANT MORE?

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Thanks for reading!

<3 Ruby

ALSO BY RUBY DIXON

Book 1

Book 2

Book 3