Page 3 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

Strange. He pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. His curiosity was too strong to ignore now. What was the point of lying about where she came from? His towering frame cast a shadow over her, but she didn’t flinch. Up close, he could see the faint sheen of sweat on her temples, could catch the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Her body was tense, bracing for something, and yet she looked him straight in the eye as if daring him to test her. There was no sign of surrender in her expression—only defiance.

“What’s your name?” Takkian asked it rougher than he intended.

“Sevas,” she said. Her shoulders eased just a fraction as her gaze flitted briefly to the tired figure of Bruil before snapping back to him. “And you?”

“Takkian.” He didn’t bother with pleasantries; there was no use for them in a place like this. Still, there was something in the way she stood, something in her that clawed at his restraint, dragging out an interest he’d long since buried under the necessity of survival. Her fists stayed clenched and her posture remained rigid, like she was holding herself together with nothing more than willpower. Yet, unlike most newcomers, who came in terrified or completely broken, she still had that fire. Somehow, against all odds, she hadn’t been extinguished. Somehow, she was still fighting, even just by standing there.

“You’ve got nerve.” Takkian tilted his head as he studied her. His gaze drew over her face, searching for cracks in the fearless mask she wore. “Not many look at me like that on their first day. You are either foolish or think very highly of yourself.” He allowed the faintest hint of a smirk to play at the corner of his mouth, though it was more curiosity than mockery.

Sevas’ jaw tightened. “I don’t think. I survive.”

Takkian let out a low, almost approving rumble from deep in his chest. “You’ll need that, Sevas. This place devours the weak.” His gaze shifted briefly toward the trembling Dokkol, curled against the wall like he was trying to shrink into the shadows. “He’ll need to find some courage to match that strong body, if he’s to survive.”

“That is Ulo, and you’ll leave him alone,” Sevas said, stepping toward the Dokkol without hesitation. Her movements were surprisingly fluid, controlled, as she crouched beside the juvenile. Her voice lowered to a softer tone. “Hey.” She placed a gentle hand on the young one’s massive arm. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Takkian’s brows twitched upward. Bold statement for someone still buzzing with the residual fear of being thrown into the cell, but she said it like it was fact, carved in stone. This female thought she could defend the Dokkol against the horrors of the arena? Foolish. That was the word for her.

Ulo muttered something too quiet for Takkian to hear. Sevas leaned closer, her head tilted slightly, waiting with a kind of patience Takkian hadn’t seen in…well, anyone in this forsaken place. Her hair fell to one side and he got a better look at the blue number symbols on her neck. They were definitely prisoner numbers. That explained why she was here and her lack of fear. Perhaps this was an improvement from her last place of incarceration. He wondered what crime she’d committed. He could see her murdering someone. An abusive warlord, perhaps. Or a shady trader who cheated her.

“Thank you, Sevas,” Ulo said. “I’m so scared.”

“I know. I am, too.” Sevas’ voice held the slightest tremor, making Takkian wonder if she was, in fact, telling the truth about being scared. “You’re going to stick with me, all right?”

Ulo nodded his huge head. The conviction in her tone seemed to steady the boy. His massive hunched shoulders stopped shaking as much, and his thick fingers curled into crescents against the floor instead of trembling aimlessly.

“How did you end up here?” Takkian asked. “Why did they transfer you from your penal colony?”

She looked up at him with a frown. “I told you, I’m from a farming settlement,” she said flatly. “Abducted and put in some auction. Same with Ulo. We met on the transfer here.”

Bruil chuckled dryly from his cot, startling everyone. “Farming settlement. You’re a Terian, aren’t you?”

Sevas nodded. “Yes. That’s what we’re called.”

“You know this species?” Takkian asked the older Zaruxian.

“Oh, yes.” Bruil leaned back with a bemused grin on his scarred face. “The Terian home world was in the same star system as ours. Our two species have a long history. This might be the first interesting thing to happen in this cell in cycles.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sevas said. “Our planet is the only one in our system. It’s very remote.”

Bruil sighed. “Sorry to tell you this, but those marks on your neck are standard issue for every Axis prisoner in one of their incarceration facilities. Yours appears to have been a farming labor camp.”

She frowned. Her gaze moved to the floor. “It…makes sense. We couldn’t leave. The Axis took everything we grew and gave nothing in return.” Her eyes closed, as if willing away pain. “So many lies.Why us?” That last bit didn’t seem to be a question for anyone, but Bruil sighed.

“Your people were in the way,” Bruil muttered. “Like mine.”

Takkian was used to Bruil’s enigmatic half answers, so he ignored this one. His gaze remained on Sevas.Farming.Maybe she didn’t lie about her past, but truly didn’t know. He folded his arms, muscles rippling beneath his scaled skin. “You think you’re ready for what happens here?” His voice was low, a growl meant to challenge more than threaten.

Sevas didn’t look at him immediately. Her attention had moved back to Ulo, who’d gathered enough courage to lift his head. His small, slit-pupil eyes darted back and forth between Takkian and the older fighter. Finally, Sevas glanced up, meeting Takkian’s gaze with her own.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m ready,” she said. “I don’t have a choice.”

Takkian held her stare, trying not to get lost in the dark red depths. “You’re right. You don’t.”

THREE

Sevas

Sevas stood with her back to the wall of the cell. The clean white surface was cold through the thin fabric of her shift and seeped through the smelly oversized vest the guards had thrown at her so she wouldn’t be basically naked. It hung to nearly her knees. She crossed her arms to keep her hands steady. The cell wasn’t small, but Ulo was the size of three of these winged beings, and so the space was tight. The air was surprisingly clean, as was the state of the cell. It was far quieter than she would have expected. Her gaze shifted briefly to the hulking figure standing not ten paces from her: Takkian, he’d said his name was.

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