Dragon's Kiss (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 5) Read online

  We pack like sardines onto the transport along with the supplies.

  It's a box like contraption with a ramp on one side. Inside are three sections. The front which has room for two, maybe three people, connected by a small hallway to the center area which has a door that leads to another open area with shelves for supplies. We're packed in so tight that there's no sitting or moving around. I'm squashed up against a wall, my breasts smashed to the point of being uncomfortable. It smells of sweat, dirt, and sand. Somehow, my bad or good luck I'm not sure, Ragnar is standing up against my backside.

  The machine hums to life, rising, which causes all of us to jostle. Ragnar's mammoth thigh and knee press into my ass as the vehicle shifts side to side. I think nothing of it at first, but it remains firmly crushed against my backside once the transport's motion has settled. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes meet his and the analyzing part of my mind clicks, figuring out our positions relative to each other and what part of him is actually thrust against my rear.

  My eyes widen, my mouth drops open, and I gasp. Surely it's not…

  The transport rocks side to side and again the thickness mashes against the globes of my butt.

  I'm certain now, he's aroused.

  That massive firmness I mistook for his thigh is his cock! How big is it?

  Maybe Zmaj males don't work like human men. Are they aroused all the time? It can't be because of me.

  He's still staring though, making my skin grow warm.

  The transport bounces with violence and everyone staggers. My knees buckle and I'd fall but there's not enough room to, I'm held up by the press of bodies. It drives Ragnar's immense hard-on deeper into my cheeks. My own lady-boner is raging and if I was alone I wouldn't hesitate to rub one out. In this situation there's nothing I can do.

  By the time the transport slows, I can barely think. My clit aches and I'm considering throwing myself onto Ragnar the moment I can turn around. The vehicle drops, settling back to the ground, and everyone in the cargo area sighs with relief. We've been in here for hours, crammed up against each other with just enough room to breathe if you don't inhale too deeply.

  Light appears along the side opposite of me as the ramp rumbles to life and lowers. The double red suns strike through the opening like a spear. Dots swirl before my eyes as they struggle to adjust from near blackness to blinding light. I can't see, but someone gasps, then I'm being pushed and pulled along as the crowd rushes out.

  "NO!" someone is screaming.

  My eyes are watering, still struggling to adjust. Something smells off, gross and disgusting that makes me regret leaving behind the sweat and dirt odor of the transport. My stomach clenches in a violent spasm. The spinning dots clear from my eyes and then the odors make sense. Soot and burnt meat. It can't be….

  My home lies before me in ruin, its defensive walls shattered. The refuge we'd built from salvaged material, the workstations, the tables, everything is overturned, destroyed. Debris litters the landscape. Smoke pours out of the wreckage of the ship itself, carrying with it that stench.

  Tears flow down my face, my throat clenches tight. They're gone. No one is here. All my friends, gone.

  I stumble forward in a daze, full of dread.

  There are so many grayish lumps all around, my mind rejects the impossibility of what they are. I can't stand any longer, my knees buckle and I fall. My hands shake as I stare at the horrifying, charred balls. A hot wind blows my streaming tears onto the sand with a soft sizzle. A piece of cloth shifts in the breeze, dislodging a blackened hunk that rolls towards me.

  It's cold when I touch it.

  "OH!" I scream, falling backwards, then I'm scrambling away.

  It can't be, no, this isn't happening.

  It's a nightmare.

  People are screaming and crying all around as I crawl back into something rigid and unmoving.

  I look up into Ragnar's deep blue eyes.

  Hand shaking, I point at the lump. "It's a skull," I say, my chest heaving with sobs. "They're all… someone mur-"

  I can't say the words. The words will make it real and this can't be.

  Ragnar kneels and enfolds me in a protective embrace and I break down.

  2

  Ragnar

  Looking the burnt wreckage over, it's obvious the Zzlo are responsible.

  If there are survivors, they've been captured and are on their way to being slaves.

  The curvy, thick one I long to grasp hold of and claim as my treasure is shaking and mewling like a newborn. She's lost everything, that's a feeling I know. Lana has told me Olivia is her name.

  She doesn't see me as she blindly stumbles back away from the carnage into my arms. When she gazes up with wide, green eyes, I can't help that my cock jumps to life. I enfold her soft, full body in an embrace but she doesn't let me hold her long before pushing away.

  I let her go and she rises and walks off as I watch to make sure she's not going too far from safety.

  She doesn't, she simply starts picking up odd debris and looking at things.

  Astarot and Lana huddle together with the Commander by the transport so I walk over to see what they're thinking.

  "Shit," Lana says, as I approach.

  It's easy to see how shaken she is. Her skin is paler than normal and there is moisture in the corners of her eyes; I've seen the other human females do this, it means they're upset. Astarot puts his arm over her shoulders and pulls her to him. Looking over her head he casts a questioning look at me.

  "We should go back," I say.

  "Back?" he asks.

  "Yes, this is dangerous. We can defend the valley. Here, we're exposed with no viable defense. It's more than obvious that the Zzlo have been here. No animal on Tajss would do this."

  "The valley is not defensible," he says.

  "We can make it so," I argue.

  "Don't be a fool," Lana says, whirling to face me.

  Anger flashes white hot and the bijass roars to life. The bijass is everything primal and dominating. Trembling with the effort to remain in control, I hiss. Astarot pushes his mate behind him and glares.

  "Edicts," he hisses.

  I'm still struggling but nod my understanding. Edicts. Edicts are edicts, edicts bring us together. I repeat it to myself until the bijass retreats.

  "Yes," I say. "But this is stupid, we need to go back to the valley."

  They say nothing, staring at me as if I'm the dumb one. Astarot and I glare at each other until I turn and walk away. My brother, Ryuth, is in chains in the back of the transport. Locked away from the rest of us until we can figure out how to undo what the Zzlo did to him. I don't know how long they've kept him in slavery, long enough to force him to attack his own kind and not recognize his own brother. I can't help him out here in the desert. I need time and room to work with him, time to reach the man buried within the bijass.

  The other hunters, Bashir and Melchior, have climbed to the top of a nearby dune. If I can get them to agree then maybe together we can convince the Commander. They turn as I approach, lifting their wings in silent greeting. I return the gesture as I join them on top of the dune.

  "Anything?" I ask.

  "Tracks lead off that way," Bashir says, pointing off towards the setting suns.

  "Burn them," Melchior hisses.

  "I know," I say, putting a hand on his back.

  "They have to have a way to get the humans off world, there's nowhere here they can sell them," Bashir says.

  "I agree," I say. "They're gone."

  "We're short of females still," Melchior says, always the practical one.

  "Yes, we are," I say.

  "Should we try to rescue them?" Bashir asks.

  "No. They're gone, probably already off world. How would we get to them?" I reply.

  Bashir nods while Melchior's tail shifts back and forth and his wings rustle in agitation.

  "We're too exposed, this is bad," Melchior says.

  "I agree," I say, suppressing my smi
le.

  My hunters, there is a bond between the three of us that runs deep. We have worked together for years and I know them as they know me. The survival of the Tribe has been on us since the Devastation. Kalessin pulled us together but none knew how to survive in the new world. We learned, the three of us forged a bond in the fires of the hunt. Nothing could form a deeper connection than knowing your life depends on the Zmaj next to you.

  The three of us stare out over the empty, rolling red dunes watching the suns drop to the horizon. Something crashes behind us, drawing our attention. Turning, Olivia is grabbing debris off the ground and throwing it.

  "What is that female doing?" Bashir asks.

  "I do not know," I say, leaving them behind as I go to find out.

  Ducking a flying sheet of metal as I approach, I hold up my hands in front of me trying to placate the upset female. Water streams down her face, she's yelling. It might be words, I don't know, just that they are screeching sounds coming out of her as she continues to grab pieces and throw them.

  She doesn't stop. Maybe this is a ritual for the females? I don't understand but I can help her. She bends down and grabs a charred hunk of metal, lifting it over her head with an effort. I step closer and take it from her. She looks up at me, wide-eyed, and screams. I throw the mass as far as I can out into the desert, gaining a much greater distance than the objects she's thrown previously.

  She stares at me, mouth open, shaking. It might be helping so I grab the next closest thing off the ground and throw it too. It's a flat sheet that catches the wind well, causing it to sore farther still. Olivia shakes her head side to side, eyes still wide. Her mouth snaps shut, and she quits screaming. Good, it is helping!

  Moving quickly, I grab up piece after piece and throw them for her. She says something I don't understand but I'm sure she must be thanking me. When I turn back towards her, Lana is running up. Good, she can translate. I want Olivia to understand this isn't a problem for me and that I'm happy to have been of help to her.

  "Ragnar what are you doing?" Lana asks, her voice cracking as she runs up.

  "I'm helping," I answer, wondering how it cannot be obvious.

  Lana talks to Olivia. They speak fast in their own tongue, words too harsh, filled with hard sounds I don't understand. Olivia balls her fists then throws her hands up in the air. She screams something at Lana then points at me. What has Lana done?

  "Uh, Ragnar, that's not helping."

  "What do you mean? She was throwing things. I am helping her with this."

  Lana stares, her mouth open, her eyes blinking fast, then shakes her head.

  "Uhm," she says.

  I stare, waiting for her to explain how I am not being helpful.

  Olivia speaks, rapid fire, then turns and walks away with moisture streaming down her face.

  "What is she saying?" I ask, struggling to keep the bijass under control. Edicts, I remind myself.

  "Look," Lana says, placing a hand on my arm. "It's just… different. She's upset, she's lost her friends. Maybe you should just give her some space."

  "Space?" I ask, still confused. I motion around myself with my arm. "There is nothing but space here. She can have all she likes of it, I do not own this space. If she wants it, I will take it for her."

  Lana smiles rubbing my arm with her hand.

  "I know you would," she says, chuckling.

  "Why are you laughing?" I ask, black fog roiling in my mind, making it harder to stay in control.

  "Nothing," she says. "Sorry, just, let her walk around, okay?"

  Gritting my teeth together I nod my agreement. It is not as if I have a choice. I don't understand these females, the things they do make no sense. Still, the dragon inside covets the ample-bodied female. It demands I claim Olivia as my treasure, nothing less will do. I will have her, I will bury my hard cock in her softness.

  "Fine," I snap, turning and walking away before the dark clouds claim me.

  None of this makes sense. We should be in the valley. We've survived there and there's no reason we can't continue to survive there. The Zzlo might try to take us but we would defeat them again. Out here, we're exposed.

  Glancing over my shoulder, Olivia is talking with Lana. Lana holds out her arms and Olivia steps into them, laying her head on Lana's shoulder. It should be my shoulder her head rests on. Rage flares up like a roaring furnace, swallowing me whole. I've turned and am walking back towards them before I know it.

  Edicts! Edicts bring us together.

  My fading conscience screams, chanting the mantra, pushing the rage of the bijass back, reclaiming control. Stopping in my tracks, I stare at them only a moment before turning around. Bashir and Melchior watch me from the top of the dune, silent in their understanding. No words needed between us.

  "We need to turn around," I snap, as I reach them. "Come with me."

  They fall in silently as I lead the way back down the dune towards the transport. The Commander, Visidion, is still talking with Astarot. Lana is approaching at the same time my hunters and I are.

  "We should get moving," Astarot says.

  "I agree," Visidion replies.

  "I'll gather them up," Lana says. "It's obvious the pirates are close, we should get out of here quickly."

  "Hold," I say and everyone turns towards me.

  "What is it?" Astarot asks.

  "This is a terrible idea, we need to go back to the valley," I say.

  Lana and Astarot look at each other but I don't care what their opinions are, my attention locks with Visidion.

  "Ragnar, I've made the choice," he says, leaning heavy on his staff.

  "Choices can change. We're exposed, the Zzlo have been here. What defense can we mount out here?"

  "You know damn we can't defend the valley!" Lana says, stepping forward.

  "No, I don't. All I know is that you two," I point at her and Astarot, "say a lot of words. Pretty words. There's a city, there's others, we can all be together. Your words mean nothing. You've upended everything!"

  The bijass rises, vying for control. I struggle, forced to split my attention between them and it.

  "Don't be a fool," Lana snaps.

  White-hot rage. My hands ball into fists so tight my claws bite into the palms of my hands. My wings spread of their own accord and my skin is burning. No one calls me a fool. I've earned my right as leader of the hunt.

  "Stand down, female," I hiss.

  Astarot steps between us, his tail is slashing left and right, his wings are spreading. I step, ready to take him on. His female is crossing the line.

  "Ragnar, no," Visidion says.

  "No what?" I yell, whirling to him. "Why are you listening to these outsiders? How do you know they didn't bring the Zzlo? They could be working with them!"

  "You've got to be kidding me!" Lana yells.

  "Ragnar, be serious," Astarot says.

  "No, I'm done. We'll not follow your guidance any longer. We can defend the valley. It's safer than we are out here," I say, making a slashing motion with my hand to cut him off.

  "Ragnar, do not do this," Visidion says. "Have faith."

  "I do, in my men," I hiss. "Not these outsiders."

  "You're insane," Lana says from behind Astarot.

  The rage burns hot and the edicts aren't helping. Trembling, I take a step towards her.

  Astarot and I square off as I drop to a crouch, ready to attack. He leans forward with his fists raised.

  "Enough!" Visidion demands.

  All the others have stopped to watch the commotion but I don't take my eyes off of Astarot, waiting for Visidion to speak.

  "We cannot fight amongst ourselves. We will continue to the City," he says.

  "No," I say, stomping my foot to the sandy ground. Straightening, I turn and look at the gathered crowd. "The hunters and I are going home, where we belong," I say, raising my voice. "Any who wish may join us."

  Everyone mutters, looking at each other. Pushing my way through them, I find Bashir and
Melchior waiting on the far side. The three of us head out into the desert on our own.

  If anyone wants to come, let them follow.

  3

  Olivia

  The stupid desert stretches out as far as I can see. The reddish sand sparkles under the double suns.

  They're gone. All of them, gone. Cold tendrils wind their way from my core to my limbs. The tears have stopped, at last, but my eyes and face still feel puffy and sore.

  I should have been here.

  A hot wind blows, shifting the sands. Each grain moves in slow motion, crawling along, swirling and dancing.

  They're gone, all my friends, gone.

  It pounds in my head over and over. Gone, gone, gone.

  If I'd been here… what? I'd have done what? Nothing, except get captured or killed too.

  Shaking my head at my foolishness I kneel and take two handfuls of sand then watch as it streams between my fingers. Like sands through an hourglass… these are the days of our lives. I snort at my stupidity. My life maybe but theirs are over.

  The ones who dies are probably the lucky ones, the rest will be sold into slavery. Just when I think this world has gotten as absolutely shitty as it possibly could, it finds a new way to be even shittier.

  "Damn it!" Lana yells, pulling my attention out of the black morass of my thoughts.

  Rising, I turn and realize for the first time how far from the group I've wandered. Lana is gesturing wildly, Astarot and Visidion stand next to her. Ragnar is walking away from the group and the other two hunters are with him. It doesn't take any special insight to see what's going on. Ragnar hasn't wanted to make this trip from the beginning. It was his opinion we should stay at the Valley and mount a defense against the pirates.

  Ragnar and the hunters have gone quite a ways into the desert already. Lana and the two Zmaj with her argue with each other while Ragnar and his group increase their distance. I should help.

  What can I do? Nothing. I can do nothing.

  No, that's stupid. Do I give in to despair? Is that the girl my momma raised? Give up because things have gotten hard?