Darax, unbelievably for a creature his size, manages to look like I just kicked a kitten. How can this even be possible? How can he go from infuriating to desirable to what he is now? A great big dragon man who I want to kiss.
“They told me I had to inform you that you would be staying in my quarters from now on,” he says, finally adopting a more severe expression.
“Oh, I am?” I growl at him. The two warriors slink away under cover of the glare I’m giving Darax.
“It is what mates should do,” he says with a confidence I don’t believe he has, but all the same, annoyingly, he is exuding it.
“I’ll think about it,” I respond, and Darax wags his tail.
He actually wags his tail,like a bloody puppy.
I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this. Instead, I walk away, my head and stomach churning, unable to pin down what I’m thinking.
What Darax is doing to me.
What I’m supposed to do about him.
How the hell did all of this happen? I have a huge alien dragon warlord with no filter, no experience of being with a female, let alone a human, and who thinks I belong to him. On top of all of this, I’ve been abducted from Earth, along with four other women and now, somehow, my relationship with the Sarkarnii warlord is tied to all of our fates.
No pressure.
I give myself a shake as I walk back to the quarters we’ve been assigned. My thighs and stomach burn at me, a clear indication I am in all of this well over my head… and other parts, so to speak.
This time, I reach our quarters without incident. Two Sarkarnii are on guard outside again. They both give me looks which I can’t quite work out.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“No, mistress,” one of them says, averting his gaze from me and staring straight ahead.
I stop in front of him. There’s a risk Darax will hate this. There’s a risk he’ll appear from nowhere and rip this Sarkarnii’s head off too, which may well be the problem.
“If there is, I want to know,” I demand of him, which is insane, given he could do what he wanted to me, the great scaly lump.
I put my hands on my hips and glare.Fake it ‘til you make it, Kerra.
Unbelievably, and I mean to my genuine surprise, he breaks in seconds, casting a glance at his colleague who shrugs.
“Lord Darax is in rut for you.”
“So he says.”
“If you are not compatible…” The Sarkarnii swallows, his throat bobbing. “Then the rut will send him mad, even kill him. We’re trying to work out if you are compatible.”
It’s suddenly got cold, really cold, in this tin can.
“And how would we be compatible?”
The second guard clears his throat, refusing to look at me. “If you are his fated mate, then he will be able to claim you with a bite and dance for you.”
“And if we’re not, he goesmad? What does that mean?”
“It happened to his brother,” the first guard says. “It happens to all the High Bask Sarkarnii, if they go into rut. Since we came through the wormhole. It is their mutation.”
“One of many,” the second one adds. “They are our best warriors, our best leaders, the warlords of this galaxy. Our lords,” he growls before he remembers himself. “We protect Darax with our lives.” He slams a hand over his chest and the other guard follows his lead.
“I’ll bear it in mind,” I squeak, my confidence deserting me as I make a dash for the door. My head is in complete turmoil.
As I enter, Scarlett is throwing one of the huge cushions at Rosalie while Lydia and Maggie lounge to one side, watching what appears to be mayhem.