Page 34 of Fated to the Dragon Warlord

He lifts his hands in supplication and belches some flame.

“Always good chow here,” he says, although it’s not clear whether he’s changed the subject due to my threat or because he’s Dante. “Good meeting.” He rolls into the center of the pit, legs in the air and wings outstretched before he starts snoring.

“Nev the lot of them,” I snap. “It’s time to go.”

KERRA

So, confusion reigns.

Darax wanted the clan warlords to take him seriously about some wormhole, and all they wanted to know was whether there were other females than me.

Then there were all the veiled threats and the mention of Darax’s rut, something he’s said but I still don’t understand.

And the fact that all three of them, or should I make that four as I have to include Darax, are feral to the point of instability. The other Sarkarnii are just as bad, something I discover as we exit the clan hall to find one of the warriors clutching his obviously broken arm and the other, half in his Sarkarnii form, letting rip with flame.

Both of them seem to be having a good time. Darax simply snarls at them as he removes the chain from my wrist.

“Was that entirely necessary?”

“The meeting?” Darax seems preoccupied.

“The chain,” I growl. It’s enough to draw his attention back to me.

A wicked smile hitches up the corner of Darax’s lip, revealing a double fang set.

“I like you chained,” he says with a purr that makes me go weirdly weak at my knees.

“Yeah? I hope you like being chained up too,” I retort.

“Promises, promises,” Darax says, eyes glittering.

I genuinely want to choke him with his stupid chain.

There are more explosions, one further away and one closer.

“Things are getting lively, with the clan warlords meeting,” Darax mutters. “It’s time to return to theSilver Star.”

He huffs out a long stream of smoke, making his warriors pay attention instantly. As we turn to leave, Dante appears from the dome, staggering slightly, his long hair wild. He looks up in the direction of the smoke which is now rising to the ceiling of the zone, and with a swirl, he becomes a dragon, lurching into the air as if one of his wings isn’t working so well.

“Nev him.” Darax stares after the lopsided dragon. “I don’t know what he’s been taking, but last I heard, he was interested in snorting star fighter fuel to improve his flame.” He looks down at me. “I should go after him. But I’m not leaving you here.”

He calls over the least injured of his warriors and instructs him to follow Dante but tonot engagewith him.

“Report back to me once he returns to his sector.”

I get the distinct impression that there is a lot more about these warlords than Darax is letting on. With the injured warrior in tow, we make our way back to the airlock, where Darax uses his communication device to get it opened.

“What was this place?” I ask, looking around me. “Some sort of space ship?”

“It was the fleet flagship, theAurora. Repurposed when we came through the wormhole to be the neutral zone for all five warlords,” Darax says. “It was once something to behold,” he adds with a hint of sadness as the airlock scrapes open and he shoves his warrior through.

“Make sure you get outside and shift properly,” he calls after him. “I need good warriors, not injured ones,” he growls, partly, it seems, to himself.

“Isn’t he going to get it treated?”

“As a warlord, I’m impervious to much other than having my head cut off,” Darax says. “My warriors also have a good degree of self-healing properties. His arm should be as good as new by tomorrow, providing he shifts to his Sarkarnii form.”

“I should go and speak to my friends. Tell them what’s happening,” I say. “Last they heard, I was going to visit you. They’ll think you ate me.”

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