Page 4 of Chosen By the Dragon Alien
He dropped her hand and looked away from her with a tight jaw and a swirl of confusing feelings racing through him. He didn’t mate with thecourtias. Doing so would give the impression of favoritism and give him so many headaches, a dalliance wouldn’t be worth it. He hadn’t even been seriously tempted before today. Something about this Terian lit him up inside. As if he needed more reasons to keep his hands off her. Her story was far too unusual to ignore. Prison marks on a female who, by all appearances, didn’t seem to be aware she was a prisoner. And she knew another of his kind…
“This way,” he said stiffly as he led her from his office to the hall beyond. A lift took them up to a floor of suites. There were two unoccupied ones there, and he led Fivra to the more lavish of the two. If she was going to be acourtiain Erovik, she should experience the luxury the position granted her.
As expected, her eyes widened and her mouth opened in surprise as she stepped inside the sumptuous suite. Her toes disappeared into the soft, thick carpet, which she pedaled her feet on as she gaped at the room. Thecourtiasreceived the best of everything, from the fine,tertiklinens on their beds to custom food and drink from top-notch replicators capable of creating any dish in the quadrant. When she slept, the bed would scan and transmit her measurements to the main computer and the wardrobe would generate a collection of garments for her that would be available by the next wake cycle. In the meantime, she needed something other than that transparent shift that she clearly found uncomfortable. There had been no missing herefforts at covering herself in the lift. Or perhaps she was just cold. She had done a lot of shivering.
“I’m…staying here?” she whispered in a scandalized voice, as if just being in this space was an act of trespassing.
“Yes,” he replied, enjoying her reaction. “These are your quarters. Yours alone. Only I and the maid I will assign to you will be allowed to come in here.”
She turned to him with suspicion. “No males?”
“You don’t consider me a male?” He smirked, testing out a teasing line on her. “Last I checked, I was one.”
Bright color flushed her face as her brow dropped in a frown. “Noothermales?”
“No other males.” He took her response as a good sign. Perhaps in time she’d trust him. The othercourtiasdid. “Not until you’re ready, that is.”
Her expression shut down. “And if I’m never ready?”
“We’ll deal with that possibility if it arises,” he replied. “But I urge you to keep an open mind. Speak with the other females here. Life in Erovik isn’t bad. Thecourtiaswho live here are practically worshipped by their clients. Lavished with gifts and treasured.”
“I don’t need to be worshipped,” she hissed. “I just want to go home.”
He stepped close and tipped her chin up with his finger to gauge her reaction to his words, but switched it to a caress. His thumb slid over the soft curve of her jaw. She was…impossibly appealing. So much so, that he wondered how he’d be around her without giving in to the urge to touch her. “Your previous life could not have been a pleasant one. You may like this one better.”
Her brows snapped together as she jerked her chin from his touch. “I was a farmer. And it wasn’t pleasant, but…” She trailed off with a grimace.
Farmer?That was vastly different information than what both Glivar and the evidence stamped on her neck had told him. The Falmic-5 auction was not known to be humane, but they were usually honest about the origins of what—and who—was sold there.
His fingers curled into a fist, as if trying to hold on to the warm tingle that touching her had produced. He’d find out the truth of Fivra’s farming claim. His curiosity about her was intense and concerning. “Whatever you were, you are here now. I expect you to take advantage of all the luxuries afforded here. I will have some clothing brought to you and your maid will show you how to use the replicator and the bathing chamber. We expect cleanliness at Erovik. And you will receive a full medical exam tomorrow, to make sure you haven’t brought any diseases with you from your…farm.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Will it hurt?”
“The exam?” What sort of barbaric place had she come from where a medical exam was cause for worry? “No, the medical technician will scan you and take a sample of your blood—also not painful—to ensure your health and treat you for anything you may have contracted.” He cocked his head. “Haven’t you been examined before?”
“They did…on the ship that took us.” She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. “It was unpleasant. Invasive. But not before that. We had little technology on our settlement.”
Again with the “settlement.”Fek. Someone had lied about this female’s life. “You are not in your settlement any longer. This is Hevatica Station, your new home.” He swept an arm toward the huge windows that looked out on the center of the station. It was a fantastic view, showing the glimmering spectacle of the countless lights from the gleaming silver and onyx structures that made up the massive base. As a center of commerce and life for thousands, it was always alive. Like agiant organism, Hevatica buzzed with activity, movement, and color.
She looked away from it with fear in her eyes. “This isnotmy home.”
“It would serve you to begin thinking of it that way.” He crossed his arms, ignoring the pity he felt for her and the urge to draw her into his arms and say something soothing. He was her manager and she was his employee. “Whether you like it or not, thisisyour home, now.”
THREE
Fivra
No, it wasn’t. A—a brothel was not her home and it would never be.
Fivra stood by the enormous window, a glass barrier between her and the vast, swirling expanse of the cosmos. The endless dark was speckled with stars that twinkled like distant promises, but dominating her view was the glimmering space station, a sprawling web of metallic structures entwined like the roots of ahollanetree, each building pulsating with soft lights of every hue. It felt alive, a creature made of steel and energy, thriving in the void of space. She had never seen anything like it, nor could she fully comprehend it.
Her chest tightened as she thought of the farm back home—a simple life and fields stretching beneath a sky that swirled with the great eye of the Axis. Here, there was none of that, only cold metal and the absence of natural light. The station buzzed with an alien rhythm, one that felt disorienting and overwhelming. There were no crops to nurture, no familiar scents of tilled soil,and the steady rustle of wind through tall grass was replaced by the hum of machinery and the city’s pulse.
Fivra’s heart sank as she leaned closer to the glass, feeling both a sense of awe and an unfamiliar ache. The existence she once knew seemed a lifetime away, and fear coursed through her as the reality of her situation sank in.
By her side, Cyprian was a bright, overwhelming presence. He stood tall. His broad shoulders were draped in a fitted dark jacket that accentuated his powerful frame. He looked so very much like the overseer, who both protected and regulated settlement 112-1, who was feared and revered as the one true link to the Axis’ power. But the similarities ended with physical features.
This male wore gold jewelry on his neck and wrists. Red gems adorned his earlobes. He even had intricate designs embedded into the bones of his wings, making them appear as if veins of gold ran through him. He was dazzling. Cyprian’s wings were folded gracefully against his back, leathery and grand, with a red sheen that caught the station’s lights and radiated an ethereal glow. His hair was light gold, shot with bronze. He was the same species as the overseer at the settlement, for sure, but they were not the same. The overseer was dark-haired, remote, cold, and imposing, but Cyprian was…personable. He smiled. The few times she’d laid eyes on the overseer, she’d never,everseen him smile.
