Page 36 of Chosen By the Dragon Alien

Behind him, Fivra’s voice trembled as she grabbed his arm. “You can’t go out there, Cyprian. They’ll kill you.”

He turned. His dragon fire simmered just beneath the surface. His wings flared slightly. He placed a hand over hers, firm and steady. “They won’t kill me, my love. Not easily. They don’t know what they’re up against.” His voice was low, a growl edged with determination. “But you must stay here.”

Her aqua eyes searched his face, wide with fear and defiance. “You can’t ask me to just hide while you face them.”

“Fivra, listen to me.” His voice dropped, and he bent his head so their foreheads nearly touched. “The air out there is freezing. Your body won’t last long in this atmosphere. Kaelen’s ship hasheat, shelter, the protection you need. I need you alive—safe. Do you understand me? You are my mate, my reason for everything. If I fail out there, at least I’ll know I shielded you from them.”

Her lips parted, trembling with the weight of his words, but she refused to look away. “And if you die out there, Cyprian? What of this ‘shield,’ then?”

Kaelen appeared at the entrance to the air lock. His arms were crossed and sharp golden eyes flickered between them. “Hate to interrupt your heartfelt moment, but he’s right, little one. You step out there, you’ll freeze.” He shifted his stance, his earlier smugness now replaced by a grim edge. “You’ve got maybe fourliksbefore the Axis ships make landfall. If big red, here, wants to make a stand, let him. You staying alive isn’t up for debate.”

Fivra’s jaw clenched. Defiance simmered in her eyes like her own kind of fire. But she nodded reluctantly, her hands tightening into trembling fists at her sides. “If you’re not back,” she whispered, her voice breaking like glass, “I’m coming for you. I don’t care what’s out there. I won’t lose you, Cyprian.”

His heart twisted, molten and heavy with her words. “You won’t lose me,” he said. “I swear it on the fire in my veins, Fivra. Trust me.”

Before she could argue further, he cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and he kissed her—fierce, deep, brimming with the promise of his return. For a moment, the cold of the moon, the looming threat of the Axis—all of it dissolved into the heat of their connection. He was forever hers.

When he finally pulled back, her hands had found their way to his chest, clutching him tightly, as if trying to anchor him to the ship. “Come back,” she whispered. “Promise me.”

“I promise to do everything in my power to come back,” he murmured. “Whatever it takes.”

With that, he turned. His wings unfurled to their full span as he stepped through the air lock door and, after sealing it behind him, he opened the outer hatch to the outside. He could feel Fivra’s gaze, even as the frigid air sank sharp teeth into his skin. He stepped fully onto the moon’s surface. Each step crunched over a thin crust of brittle frost. The atmosphere was thin and quiet, but the sound carried oddly—the distant sounds of the descending Axis ships were an eerie purr on the icy, desolate moon.

The Axis ships broke through the haze of the upper atmosphere like sleek predators. Their dark forms were stark against the pale, lifeless expanse of the moon. Their light beams cut through the gloom, illuminating the crater in sharp, bone-chilling clarity as they slowed to hover above the desolate landscape.

Cyprian scanned their formation—two transport carriers flanking a smaller, more intricate vessel that hummed with a menacing authority and dripped with the arrogance of power. It was designed for command. Its angular lines spoke of efficiency, strategy, and precision. And, very likely, devastating weaponry.

Cyprian strode out from the center of the crater and stopped on the surface in full view. His wings flared wide behind him. He knew their rich crimson was impossible to miss against the bleak backdrop of the moon. The surrounding air crackled with the heat his body radiated. He tilted his head, baring his teeth in a feral smirk as the Axis ships continued their descent.

“Come, then.” His claws flexed involuntarily. The brothel director felt very far away—like a different life entirely—as the primal instincts of his dragon roared. This side of him had always frightened him. He saw himself as civilized, in control. But the beast was anything but. It wanted to destroy. It wanted blood. “Let’s see what you’ve unleashed.”

From the Axis command ship, Cyprian watched a sleek transport pod detach and descend toward the frozen ground with deliberate slowness. Its lights flashed ominously. It hissed as it landed with sharp, mechanical sounds in the icy quiet. The pod door slid open, revealing a contingent of six Axis soldiers in their full, gleaming black armor. Their steps were precise and their formation flawless as they fanned out in a calculated arc. Plasma weapons hummed faintly in the bitter cold.

And then he appeared—the unmistakably metallic figure of Xryvos, the Axis inspector Cyprian had faced in Erovik. His cold, metallic face glinted faintly in the light of the search beams as he stepped forward, flanked by two of his armored subordinates. He carried himself with the same rigid arrogance as before. This time, his sharp, glowing eyes showed a flicker of satisfaction. He thought he’d won.

“Director Cyprian.” Xryvos’ voice was smooth with its metallic edge. “How noble of you to make this so convenient for us. For an enemy of the Axis, you lack a certain…elusiveness. Cannot be helped, I suppose. Your brain was implanted with a tracking bug before you were installed as Erovik’s director.”

Cyprian tilted his head ever so slightly. So, he was the one who had made it possible for the Axis to find them.Him. That meant it was on him to get Fivra and Kaelen out of this. He didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he let his silence draw out and fill the space between them. There was not much to say, anyway. He had no more words to waste on this pawn of the Axis.

Cyprian spread his crimson wings wide, like a silent warning against the desolate cratered backdrop. The gleaming Axis soldiers leveled their weapons toward him, but they seemed insignificant compared to the heat simmering beneath his skin. His blood thundered in his veins, molten and ancient and thrumming with instincts he had denied his entire life. This would be his first true transformation—the first time his dragonform would be unleashed onto a battlefield, into a fight, into the open—and yet, something within him knew exactly what to do.

He focused, allowing the fire inside to swell, to build. His silver gaze fixed on Xryvos, standing in the center of his guards. Cyprian’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. The shift began deep within him, like a fierce pull that snapped across his spine. It ignited a blaze of raw, unrelenting power.

“You shouldn’t have followed us,” Cyprian growled. His voice was roughened by the first signs of the shift. Clouds of smoke curled from his mouth and nose. His scales thickened. The membranes of his wings glowed faintly with veins of shimmering fire as the heat flowed from his body.

Xryvos sneered, unperturbed. “Pathetic posturing,” the inspector spat. “You are nothing more than a stubborn animal clinging to outdated instincts. The Axis will tame you just as they have the others.”

“Others?” Cyprian’s voice turned guttural, vibrating with something ancient and dangerous. He stepped forward, his towering frame trembling as raw power pulsed through him. His gaze locked onto the vile being before him. “You know nothing about what I am.”

Pain lanced through him, sudden and unyielding, as his dragon roared from within, demanding release. Cyprian stumbled forward, his wings twitching against the rapid changes overtaking his body. The pressure in his chest swelled, throbbing in time with the molten fire that coursed through his veins. His muscles coiled and twisted, straining against the transformation that consumed him.

“You will surrender the female,” Xryvos declared. His voice was cold and unrelenting, seemingly disinterested in the transformation taking place in front of him. “She is property of the Axis, as areyou. Resistance is not just futile—it is suicidal.”

Cyprian let out a guttural growl, his body trembling under the strain of the transformation that felt as if it were ripping him apart. His fiery veins pulsed visibly beneath his skin. Scales—thick and crimson, glinting almost black around the edges—thickened and hardened in waves across his shifting frame. His body contorted. Sharp angles replaced smooth muscle. His claws extended into talons, vicious and gleaming like obsidian. Each movement brought searing pain, but it was a pain with purpose—a rebirth into his true form.

The cracks and pops of his shifting bones echoed. His wings flared to their full span, now massive enough to blot out the starlight above them. He threw his head back and a mix of agony and freedom roared through his throat as his jaw elongated into a razor-lined snout. His teeth gleamed like forged blades, steam curling from the corners of his mouth. His dragon fire swirled dangerously within like a furnace on the verge of eruption.

Xryvos faltered for the first time. His metallic frame stiffened as he took a step back. His eyes flickered with what could only be described as disbelief. “No,” he hissed under his breath. “You should not be able to—”

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