Page 1 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

ONE

Sevas

Sevas would never admit this to anyone, but shewantedto be taken. She imagined a fleet of liberating ships arriving, offering food and the chance to leave this miserable planet of starvation and abuse. Of starting over somewhere where your father didn’t give you to a male you’d never met, who would likely treat you horribly even if youdiddo everything he ordered you to do. Most of all, Sevas wanted to be free to make her own way in life, with or without a mate.

Unfortunately, the reality of being abducted didnotmatch up with her fantasies.

She would never forget the last time she sat with her friends. Turi was about to be sent off to her new bondmate, and so they were sitting in a field, weaving grass together, or some such nonsense. The point was to make a grass crown for Turi to celebrate her match. It was all absurd, but traditions died slowly, and this would be the last time they would see their friend. She would never return to their settlement again.

Sevas hated the way things were done. The settlement had to grow as much food as they could in soil that hated growing things, then they had to send it to the entity that ruled them: the Axis. No one knew if a single individual or an organization constituted the Axis. No one even understood what it wanted, aside from the food they should be eating rather than giving away.

Sevas had watched the alien ship land beside them with a mixture of hope and fear. The hope was secret, of course; she was the only one of her friends who ever looked out to the lands beyond and wondered if it wouldn’t be better out there, in the unknown.

It became apparent very quickly, however, that these beings were not there to rescue them. Wherever they would end up would be worse than Settlement 112–1.

The great, winged overseer who watched the settlement and kept order tried to stop the raiders from taking her and her friends. He succeeded in keeping Turi—although it was debatable whether her fate would be better with him. In the end, however, the Axis had given these aliens, with their wet snouts and snapping teeth, permission to take her and her friends—to sell them, as if their lives meant nothing more than a few credits.

Sevas held it together for the most part. She was the tallest and strongest of them all, and the most likely to send her fist into someone’s face. As they were pulled away from the overseer and Turi, dragged toward the alien ship, the only thing that held Sevas back from wildly attacking their abductors was her fear for her friends. She felt protective over little Fivra, who was petite and sweet and not a fighter. Fivra was like a little sister to her, while Lilas, whose dark hair was turning a rich purple, had gone silent, rigid, and terrified—very different from her usual cool exterior. Lilas was known to offer a sarcastic or sharp commentto anyone who annoyed her. She acted as if nothing bothered her, but her heart was as soft as Fivra’s beneath that armor.

Nena and Cerani were newer to Settlement 112-1. They were older than the others and more worn down. Nena had a mate, which was what had brought her there, but he treated her terribly. She was quiet, and as they were herded onto that transport vessel, Sevas could swear that Nena was the grounding force that kept them from falling apart. Cerani had only arrived in the settlement four months earlier, and whose mate had died, put herself between them and the closest raider. She held head high as her light gold eyes flashed with the same anger that resonated with Sevas.

And that anger stayed, even when they reached their destination—a horrible auction where they were separated. Fear never quite took over. Instead, her fury grew. Perhaps that was why she ended up where she did.

Sevas stood stiffly in a clear tube, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles had gone white. The tube hummed faintly, a low vibration she could feel through the soles of her bare feet. She hated being on display like this, hated how the too-bright lights above her made her skin look glassy under the disgusting translucent shift they’d forced her into. Even worse, without soot-dye to cover her hair, its true glaring, bright gold hue was revealed. She despised the color, especially now, as it shone like a beacon for every foul creature in the room.

Around her, aliens of all shapes and sizes crowded the auction floor, their voices a cacophony of clicks, growls, and hisses. Sevas tried not to look at them as they gestured toward her and muttered in their strange tongues. She pressed her arms tighter against her sides, caught between wanting to disappear and wanting to smash her fists through the tube that trapped her.

“Turn,” a voice barked through the tube’s built-in speaker. It belonged to one of the slimy handlers who had stripped and washed her.

“Fekoff,” she spat, and slammed a palm against the glass, wishing she could connect with his ugly, smug face.

The handler smirked and shook his head. His stubby gray finger jabbed at the control panel beside the tube. There was a soft beep, followed by a sickening lurch as the platform and clear tube rotated slowly. She snarled as the bidders shouted approval at being able to view her from all sides. They could see the shiny gold spots running down her spine that indicated her sexual maturity. When the spots emerged on a Terian female, along with an abrupt change of hair color—in Sevas’ case, that brilliant gold—it signaled it was time for her to be given to a bondmate.

She’d worked so hard to keep those indicators hidden, from covering the spots under her hair and clothing to working thick, sooty oil into her gold hair to hide the color, all to delay becoming someone’s breeding bondmate. Sevas had yet to see any female’s life improve from being given to a Terian male. Males, including her own father and brother, were typically cruel and harsh. Even though she wasn’t at Settlement 112-1 anymore, panic ran under her skin knowing her hair and spots were exposed. Her stomach twisted at feeling so exposed. Soseen.

The murmuring in the room grew louder, blending into a disturbing symphony of alien noises. Sevas couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the tones were unmistakable—interest, greed, amusement. She bit down on the inside of her cheek until the faint taste of blood crept over her tongue. Better the pain than the bile threatening to rise. She tilted her head, straining to catch snippets of their words through the glass. One phrase, spoken in the common tongue, slithered through the noise and into her gut like ice: “Strong. Good for fighting.”

Fighting. The word echoed inside her head, bouncing off the walls of her fear, her anger, her stubborn refusal to break. They weren’t wrong—shewasstrong. She had spent her life working with her father—“the rock-shaper”—and brothers—not farming, but working stone into building materials and farm equipment. Her muscles had been built by survival, not vanity. But the thought of being dragged somewhere and forced to fight for someone else’s entertainment or profit, made her fists clench even tighter.

The tube’s slow rotation finally stopped. Sevas eyed the handler with an intensity that could have melted metal. His smirk widened, satisfied by her fury but unconcerned by it. He jabbed at another button, and this time, the glass around her emitted a soft chime. A small figure waddled forward—a creature with too-long arms and a lopsided grin, carrying a metallic tablet. Its bulbous black eyes darted between the handler and the crowd, then back to the tablet.

“Bidding will commence on Terian female prisoner 78-S,” it announced in a voice high-pitched and nasal, like a whistle through a broken pipe. 78-Swasher designation. It was marked on her neck in blue ink that glowed a bit in the dark. Butprisoner?Well, that was what she was now, unfortunately. “Opening amount, eight hundred credits.”

The bidding started fast, too fast. Sevas couldn’t understand the exact amounts—just the rising cadence of noise as bidders shouted to be heard over each other. A scuffle broke out among two that needed to be broken up, but the bidding didn’t even pause. The small announcer’s voice crackled after every bid, sharp as static. Sevas forced herself to stay still, though every muscle in her body screamed to move, to fight, todosomething. Her heart thudded so loudly that it drowned out everything else.

But not the fear. That slipped in at the edges now, cold and unwelcome. She hadn’t truly felt it before this moment.Somewhere deep down she’d convinced herself that anger alone would keep her safe, that defiance could shield her. Yet, as the tube hummed faintly with heat—a reminder she was entirely trapped—fear crept closer, biting at the edges of her resolve. The creatures were bidding on her, reminding her of people bartering over a sack of grain or a fuel canister. It was another harsh reminder that her life was not her own. And she had no way of knowing who—or what—she would belong to at the end of the bidding.

More voices, low and guttural, barked out numbers that made the room seethe with energy. One bidder snapped out their final bid in a bubbling growl as the rapid-fire bidding slowed down. The announcer’s too-big eyes blinked rapidly, its tablet chirping. “Five thousand four hundred credits!” it squeaked. “Do we have five thousand five hundred credits?”

Sevas’ stomach coiled. The air in the tube felt thinner, hotter, more suffocating. Her palm went back to the glass, pressing against it as if, somehow, she could stop the transaction with sheer willpower. But the hiss and murmur of voices rose again, and the fear tightened its grip on her chest. There were a few more bids—a last flurry that marked the imminent end to this horrible production. Her jaw clenched so hard it ached, but she refused to let her lip quiver or her shoulders shake. If she was going to be sold, nofekkingway would they see her cry.

The announcer tapped at its tablet, confirming the bid. “Sold! Six thousand two hundred credits to Buyer 752-X!” it squealed.

The murmur in the crowd transformed into low grumbles and resigned hisses, but Sevas didn’t care about them anymore. She scanned the crowd beyond her tube, searching for who had placed the winning bid. What kind of creature had just claimed her life?

At first, she couldn’t spot anything unusual through the kaleidoscope of species crowding the auction floor. But then thecrowd parted slightly and a large robot glided forward. Arobot. It was dark gray, with a mess of arms and different appendages on the ends of those arms. It moved on a set of rollerballs, and it was surprisingly quick for a hulking thing like that.Thiswas Buyer 752-X?

“You should have played it quieter,” said the handler. “Could have ended up at a nice, cushy brothel, like the female who was in that tube before you.”

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