Page 40 of Possessed By the Dragon Alien
The air lock cycled. Footsteps echoed through the docking tube. Heavy boots on metal decking, moving with precision.
Madrian stood and moved to face the air lock, placing himself between the approaching footsteps and Nena. Old habits died hard, but some habits were worth keeping.
The inner door hissed open, and Madrian got his first look at their hosts.
The figure that stepped through was tall and lean, dressed in dark armor that looked both functional and intimidating. But it was the face that caught Madrian’s attention—angular features, dark purple scales, and eyes the color of polished silver.
Zaruxian.
“Chancellor,” the figure said, his voice carrying the same authority as the transmission. “Welcome home.”
NINETEEN
The air lock hissed open with a soft whoosh of equalizing pressure. Nena tensed in her seat aboard Rien’s shuttle, watching as a tall figure ducked through the entry hatch. Dark purple scales caught the cabin’s overhead lighting, and her breath hitched as recognition slammed into her like a physical blow.
The overseer from Settlement 112-1. The one who had ruled over her people with distant authority, feared and worshipped in equal measure.
“Chancellor,” he said, straightening to his full height in the confined space. His voice carried the same commanding tone she remembered, but something in his silver eyes was different. Warmer, perhaps. “Welcome home.” Then he turned his cool, silvery gaze to her. “Hello, Nena.”
Nena couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips. Her muscles went rigid as memories flooded back—settlement meetings where his name was spoken in hushed whispers, the rare times he’d flown overhead in dragon form, the stories of his power that had shaped her childhood fears.
Madrian’s hand tightened on her arm. She felt his body tense beside her, wings spreading slightly as his protective instinctskicked in. The air between the two Zaruxian males crackled with sudden tension.
“You know him,” Madrian said. It wasn’t a question.
“He was the overseer of my settlement,” Nena managed, her voice barely steady. “The one who controlled our lives.”
Ellion’s expression shifted. Something like regret flickered across his features. “I was many things I am no longer proud of.” His gaze moved to Madrian, assessment clear in his silver eyes. “As were we all, it seems.”
Madrian’s posture remained rigid, wings held tight against his back. The tension between the two males was palpable in the confined space.
Before Ellion could respond, another voice cut through the tension. “Oh, for the love of—I knewyoushouldn’t have been the first one through that tube.”
A second Zaruxian squeezed through the air lock. His red scales gleamed under the shuttle’s interior lighting. Jewels and molded gold had been inlaid in the heavy bones of his wings and more gold winked at his ears. He wore snug pants and a leather vest that left a good deal of skin exposed. It was a lot to take in, after the dark, serious attire that everyone wore at Central.
Unlike the two tense males before her, this one moved with easy confidence despite the cramped space, rolling his eyes at the scene before him. Where the overseer carried himself with rigid authority, this male radiated casual charisma.
“This stern fellow is Ellion,” the red-scaled Zaruxian said with a charming bow. “And I am Cyprian. Former proprietor of Erovik, current pain in everyone’s ass. And you must be the infamous High Chancellor Madrian and his beautiful Terian mate. We are pleased to meet you both.” The easy introduction seemed to defuse some of the tension. Madrian’s wings settled slightly, though his posture remained guarded.
Cyprian’s gaze was warm on Nena. “My mate will be very excited to see you. Fivra has been worried about you.”
Nena’s heart jumped. “Fivra is here?” Andthiswas her mate? She blinked at the male before her, who looked as if… Ah, she’d heard his name on the way here. He was the ex-brothel director.
“She is.” He glanced back toward the way he’d come. “Shall we go see the others?”
“Cyprian,” Ellion said in warning.
“Don’t ‘Cyprian’ me,” the red-scaled male replied, waving a dismissive hand. “This is hardly the place for introductions. It’s so small, we’re liable to run out of air,” Cyprian said, glancing at the cramped shuttle interior.
“Fine. To the central hall, then,” Ellion said. “There are more crowding the tube, but they can’t fit inside this small shuttle.”
“Smart to keep the numbers small in here. The tube gets crowded fast.” Cyprian gestured toward the air lock where the sounds of more figures could be heard waiting in the docking tube. “Half our crew wanted to get a look at you two. Word travels fast on a ship this size.”
Ellion’s jaw tightened. “They were told to maintain their positions.”
“Relax, brother. Curiosity isn’t a crime. It’s not every day that a high chancellor of the Axis isinvitedhere, after all.” Cyprian’s tone held fond exasperation. He looked at Rien, who remained seated at her pilot’s station. “Oh, hello. You must be Rien, who Siku talked about. You’re welcome to join us.”
“I’ll stay with the ship,” Rien said simply, eyeing the massive Zaruxians with wide eyes. “Make sure everything’s secure.”
