Ragnar carried me the last little bit to the camp and it was so damn romantic and embarrassing at the same time.

Like admitting I couldn't do it on my own, but also the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.

Now we're having dinner and I chat with Astrid and Delilah. The two Zmaj that are always close to Ragnar, I can't keep their names straight, share our fire.

"This sucks," Astrid sighs, wiping grease from her fingers on her pants.

"What does?" I ask.

"All of it."

"Yeah."

"What the hell are we doing? What's next?" she asks. "We get something of a life put together, then I'm kidnapped by these alien dragon men. That all works out okay and I think things will be alright, then we find out that the stupid space pirates have taken all our friends?"

She shakes her head, hunching her shoulders over.

"It's a total shit show," Delilah pipes in.

One of the hunters tilts his head and says something to Ragnar. Melchior, I think his name is, maybe? Or is that the other one?

All three Zmaj grab their spears and leap to their feet. The girls and I look at each other. I don't hear anything but it's obvious they do. Jumping to my feet, I look around trying to spot anything.

A moment later something dives out of the sky making a screeching sound that sends cold chills racing up and down my spine. My guts lock tight as I drop to the sand, throwing my arms up to protect my head.

Ragnar steps backwards, almost trampling me.

Realizing this is a terrible and stupid position, I stand back up. Every nerve of my body screams that I should curl into a ball and pray for it to pass. My instincts suck.

Ragnar whirls his spear around, driving it up into the air and then spins it the other way. He moves with a stunning, beautiful fluidity and skill. Like watching a dancer. My core tightens. The way his muscles flex is an impressive display of strength that makes me clench my thighs.

They Zmaj warriors are effective, driving back the diving balls of teeth and death.

Penelope screams from behind a Zmaj at the fire next to us. Three of the creatures are attacking him. In a display of his own skill he blocks two, driving them back, but the third slips past.

It's almost to my friend. Ragnar leaps, his wings spreading wide, the spear tip glinting in the moonlight as he whirls it into position. He lands and drives it into the body of the beast just before it reaches Penelope.

He spins his spear off to one side then flicks it, sending a dead monster flying. I get my first good look at our attackers as it leaves his spear. It looks like a furry body with wide, leathery wings, rows of sharp teeth and talons that could tear flesh.

It's horrifying, filling me with cold dread knowing more of these flying balls of death are still attacking us.

Ragnar and the Zmaj continue their defensive dance, protecting us. His spear flashes, muscles flex, and I watch in utter fascination.

My body responds to his controlled power, my nipples are so hard the cloth of my shirt scrapes against them sending violent, jolting thrills through me.

The monsters apparently give up, the screeching and faint leathery sounds recede.

Ragnar spins on his heel, stopping to face me. He leaps into the air, his wings spread, then descends to land before me. Beautiful.

He touches my face, looks up and down my body. It takes only a moment to realize he's inspecting me for wounds.

"I'm fine," I say, but he doesn't comprehend.

"Is anyone hurt?" Lana yells.

Responses come back from around the encampment while Ragnar finishes his inspection. His attention does nothing to ease the tension between my thighs, in fact it makes it worse. A pulse-pounding, clit-throbbing need threatens all my sense of propriety.

When he straightens to his full height I touch his cheek. His scales are cool and smooth under my fingertips. I wish, with everything I am, that we could talk.

One of his hands is on my shoulder, the other on my waist. The world fades away until there is only the two of us. Distant sounds become little more than a buzz. My heart pounds in my chest as I rise onto my toes, leaning into Ragnar.

"Are you okay?" Lana asks, cutting right into my moment.

Falling back onto my heels as my attention jerks away from Ragnar, I bite my lower lip. Tears well in my eye at the sudden pain. Lana grabs me by my shoulders spinning me to face her. Before I can say a word, she's running her hands my arms, gripping me tight.

"I'm fine!" I say, my voice cracking and much louder than it should be.

Lana stops, looking up from the hunched position she was inspecting me from, her surprise obvious. She straightens as my cheeks burn hot. I can't meet her eyes. A crawling desire to find a rock to hide under almost overwhelms me.

"Good," Lana says, looking between Ragnar and me.

Great, just great. She purses her lips and looks like she's going to say something more then shakes her head.

"Is anyone else hurt?" I ask, desperate to get her attention on something else, anything else.

"No," she says. "Seems we came through this okay."

She says something to Ragnar and the sharp, cold steel of jealousy drives into my heart as he answers. What is she saying to him? I want so badly to be able to talk to him, to listen to his voice and know what he's saying. They exchange more words then she snorts and shakes her head. My hands ball into fists as jealousy turns to anger. Is she flirting with him?

Being jealous right now is just stupid. Insecurity is a weakness, one I don't have time for.

Lana smiles at Ragnar then turns back. "I'm glad you're okay, we should all get some sleep," she says. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

"Sure," I say.

Delilah and Astrid are straightening out their blankets and getting ready to lie down so I do the same on my side of the small fire. It's died down to burning embers by the time I get everything straight and lie down. It's nighttime and the sun is down but it's still too hot. This planet sucks.

I sigh, then Ragnar is pressing up against me. His body gives off an easy coolness that pulls me in. He's so much bigger than I. I'm enshrouded, comforted in his safety. I know he won't let anything bad happen.

He touches my hip and I stiffen. Desire blooms fresh at his touch but we're not alone. Discomfort wars with need. How am I supposed to sleep with him so close? As he presses his body against mine, his cock digs into my back. He must be huge!

How am I supposed to sleep now? He's so close, so big, so there, filling my thoughts. I can't relax, pulse pounding need roars through my body, a fire demanding my attention. No, not here and not now.

His hand drifts across my hip, sliding, and damn it if my body doesn't betray me with its desires. I bite my lip as his hand slips under the hem of my pants moving across my folds. One large finger presses hard against my clit, causing me to shudder. A yelp catches in my throat as I'm soaked by my desire.

I can't do this, not here. Grabbing his hand I pull up. He doesn't resist as I push his hand away and place it back on my hip. He lets it rest there, not trying anything else. Slowly my heart returns to a normal pace but by the time it does, his breathing is slow and even against my back.

Great, at least one of us is getting sleep. Lying here, engulfed in his body, the exotic scent of him keeps me awake. At some point I finally drift off to sleep.

* * *

Someone is pushing me. I jerk awake, awareness crashing in as adrenaline pumps into my body. Looking around, I'm lost, and it takes a moment to get my bearings. Ragnar is crouched close by, waiting patiently.

Blinking, I stand up and stretch. Sore muscles scream their protest at being forced to move. Sleeping on the ground sucks.

The suns haven't yet broke the horizon but there's enough light to see by, so it's close to dawn. Ragnar holds his hand out with a few chunks of meat. I take two, thank him though it does no good, and pop the cold, chewy meal in my mouth.

It doesn't take long before we're on the move again.

We start out the walk in a group but before the suns have cleared the horizon, the group has become a line and I'm at the back. Again.

Lana has the shoes she designed for moving across the sand and that's great, for her. The rest of us fight for every step in the loose sand. I have to pull my foot out and up then sink down and it's tiring, wearing me down and working muscles I never use.

Once more Ragnar stays close by and helps when I'm having a particularly hard time. The pulling sand is bad enough but it's also all rolling dunes. It seems like I'm always going uphill. Seriously, is there never a slope down? Wiping sweat away from my eyes I pull my water bottle and take a small sip.

I'm trying to be conservative with my water because I don't know when we'll find more. My throat is so dry and parched it hurts to breathe. My body cries out to down the bottle then find more but I can't give in. My head is hurting and I know it will grow until it's a blinding pain.

Resuming my walk I realize how much everything hurts. The suns are high overhead, beating down with relentless energy as they bake the sand and me. Walking through an oven couldn't be much more unpleasant than this.

Ragnar takes my arm and lifts, helping me pull my feet free and forward.

It's so much easier for him! He's so big you'd think it would be terrible for him but he spreads his wings and glides across the top of the sand like it's nothing. He's a testament to evolutionary theory, perfectly adapted to his environment.

Cresting another dune, I shield my eyes to see how far behind I've fallen. Ragnar stops too. There's a large rock outcropping not very far ahead which casts a long shadow across the sand. That will be nice to walk in when we reach it. The rest of the group is already there. Damn I'm so far behind! Sighing I straighten, adjust my pack, then look further ahead.

"What the hell is that?" I ask pointing into the distance.

It looks like a red-brown wall cutting across the horizon for as far as the eye can see.

Ragnar was watching me but when I point, he turns and looks. He yells, something, I wish to hell I knew what, then he bursts into motion. I'm swept off my feet and into his arms and we're bounding across the desert towards the large rocks. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hang on for dear life, literally.

He's moving so fast I'm bouncing in his arms like a rag doll. My heart is pounding but there's still a cold ball of ice in the pit of my stomach. I'm jostled hard and bite my tongue, crying out in pain.

Ragnar looks down with concern in his eyes but he doesn't slow.

Well maybe it wasn't concern? What does concern look like on an alien dragon-man's face anyway? Blinking away tears, I strain to look over my shoulder and see the dark wall. It's coming closer, a lot closer, and when I look back ahead we're not gaining very fast on the others. We won't catch up before that wall reaches us.

"Shit," I say, as the sand at my feet stirs in the breeze.