Page 90 of Fated to the Dragon Warlord

There is utter destruction happening behind us.

“I think they’ll be done soon.”

Thankfully, without hesitation, Maggie starts running, followed by the others. I go to make a last check on Darax.

And come face to face with the evil professor.

“Your precious Sarkarnii haven’t won. You know that, don’t you?” he says, the weird metallic twang to his voice even more marked. His eyes have a strange filmy quality. It’s as if he’s looking at me, only he isn’t.

I check behind him. Most of what I can see is now on fire.

“If they haven’t won, they’re doing an excellent job of not losing,” I point out.

“But unless they get to their lost Sarkarnii, I will claim him for my own,” the creature says, its voice dissolving into a horrible metallic burr. “And I will have another human.”

“You absolutely will not.” I point the laser gun at him. “Unless you want to lose your head.”

“So be it. If I can’t have you, then no one will.”

The pain I feel is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It sears through my shoulder and down to my abdomen. I risk a look and see the tip of a Veseli leg protruding from my body.

I might not have heard it go in, but I hear it come out with a soggy rip. For a short time, the adrenaline within me keeps me standing, until it too is gone, and I drop to my knees.

Metal stains my tongue, coppery, nasty, bloody.

“What have you done?” I gasp out.

“Specimens which don’t comply are terminated.”

I slump to one side, wanting to put my hand to where I’m injured but having no strength left in me. Instead, it twitches, a bolt from the gun firing into the Veseli with my dripping blood on its leg.

Did I really come so far from home, so many light years, through so much with Darax, for it to be me, alone, in a pool of blood?

All around me, flames rage. I’m sure I see a face I don’t recognize, but then it’s gone in the pain and the desire for it not to end.

I want to stay here. I want to be with Darax. I do not want it to end this way.

Something huge thumps down next to me.

“Heartsfire?” A great head appears.

“I’m sorry, Darax.” I try to stretch out a hand, to touch him, to gain some strength from him. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

There is a swirl of light, of dark, of smoke and flame, and his handsome face is staring down at mine as he cups my head between two huge hands.

“What happened?” he asks, his eyes filled with fire.

“Stabbed…from behind,” I force out. “I’m sorry, Darax, so sorry.”

“My sweet mate,” he rasps as I’m gently pulled into his arms and against his warm body.

“I’m cold.” My teeth chatter, and I wish they wouldn’t because it hurts so much.

“Nev! Darax!” Driok is kneeling next to us.

“I don’t know what to do,” I hear Darax say, because sleep is beckoning, and I’m not sure I can resist it.

“Have you not claimed her?” Driok demands. “You should have claimed her.”

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