Page 252 of Scorching the Alien Empire
I hate it. I hate me. I wish I was never—
“Here.” Dracoth’s voice breaks through like thunder cracking glass. I look up. He’s holding something out. A squirming shape in my bleary vision. “Your... creature.”
“Todd?” My breath catches. I blink the blur away—and there he is. Chug Bug. Spindly legs reaching, giant singular eye gleaming with unconditional love andzero taste.
But all I can see is my reflection in his lens: a puffy-eyed disaster. Hair tangled. Makeup streaked. A hobo in space.
“You’ll have to find a new bug-mother...” I mumble, each word another stab in the gut. “Mommy’s a loser-turd now. Go on. Crawl to Sandra. She’ll—”
WHUMP.
Todd launches at me like a black-red bowling ball of plumpness. The air rushes from my lungs in a stunneduff!
“Stop it! Mister!” I yelp as he scrambles up my chest like an Adderall-addicted tarantula.
“Get down! Right now!” I flail, but freeze as he curls on my shoulder, wee clackers clacking in croaky, sleepy snores.
How does he do that?
I look at the room—and finally at Dracoth. He’s seated, barely fitting in the space. Like me stuffed in an old dress.
“What... happened?” I whisper.
He glares at me. Red eyes burn like furnace coals. Fangs visible beneath curled lips—hot irons poised for judgment.
Oh no.
“You ask this,” he growls, “feigningignorance.” His voice rumbles through the floor.
“You brought dishonor. Tome.Tous.Shame that will stain for centuries.” His voice cracks thunder through my chest. “Defiling our sacred bond.Seeking to mate another male behind my back!” He roars, eyes spilling crimson mist into the air.
“Honor demands I challenge Voryx to Krak-Tok.” He rises slightly, armored hand curling into a molten fist, fangs bared in rage. “But he is a znat. A pathetic pawn whose spine would not ease the pain that sears my soul.”
He looks at me. And that’s when I see it. Not rage. Not fire. But something worse. Sadness. Betrayal. And it shatters me into a thousand jagged, useless pieces.
“Do you no longer favor me?” Dracoth growls. His voice rolls through the room like thunder made of grief.
“Do you doubt my strength? My resolve? Have I notbledfor us? Fought and killed in your name? And this”—he gestures wildly, fangs flashing—“this is how you honor me? Honorour bond?Honor the Gods’ blessing?”
His red eyes burn. Fuming. Glistening. Hate and sadness tangled like storm clouds.
“Dracoth, I...” My voice falters. My heart pounds. Eyes sting, grasping for something, anything I can say to escape this despair. “I did it for us. Ionly saidthose things to secure his vote—nothing happened between us. I swear it. Please, believe me.”
But even as the words leave my lips, that moment twists in my gut. The heat. The chaos. The lust that coiled inside mebefore the sickness drowned it. It hangs there. Heavy. Waiting. A guillotine over my neck.
“You lie.” He grabs my collar. Effortless. Like I weigh nothing. He yanks me to his face, a sneer carved in fire and bone.
“Ifeltyour betrayal through the bond.” His voice breaks—then turns hard as granite. “Youlongedfor him. A lowly male, unworthy even to polish my armor—and yet you offered yourself.This is what you are. What my honor was worth.”
I close my eyes, waiting for the end. Let him kill me. It’s fine. I welcome it.
“I could kill you now,” he whispers. “The ancient penalty for violating the sacred union.” He exhales. “It has not been invoked in thousands of years. But you—” His voice cracks. “You sink lower than the lowest wyrm.”
A silence falls.
My breath stills. My eyes stay closed, waiting to be torn apart. I want it. Wish he could burn me. To end it. Burn me in Arawnoth’s love and send me to his realm of fire once more.
But no flame comes. Like everything, even that’s gone now.
