Hera forced her trembling legs to move. She followed Taog out of the Excalibur onto a foreign planet. She inhaled, and the air was a little thinner, as if she’d just got done climbing one of Colorado’s mountain peaks. The sky was as blue as Earth’s, but instead of one sun, there were two. The sunlight was twice as hot as Earth’s, and the temperature hotter. She immediately broke out in a sweat and didn’t know if it was due to the heat or fear swimming through her veins.

In front of her was a three-story white building with large glass windows. It was at least the size of a football field and looked like any airport back home except instead of hangers with airplanes it had different size spaceships. God, it was as if she’d landed on one of Star Trek’s busy space ports.

But this one was different.

No one was here.

No one peered down from the windows.

No one was working on the spaceships.

They were alone.

A sharp hiss broke the silence. She jumped six inches, her heart even higher. She hurriedly looked around, but nothing moved. The back of her hair tingled, and she knew without a certainty of doubt that they weren’t alone. They were being watched, plotted against, their demise certain.

She glanced at Taog. If he had heard it, he hadn’t responded.

She wanted to hold Damon’s hand again, but if he touched her, whoever was watching them might suspect something was wrong. She had to be content with his warm breath on the back of her neck. Her knees quaked. With each step, her confidence lessened and her feet sank deeper and deeper into doubt. What if she was leading these brave men to their deaths?

Tryker and Anonghos carried out the queen, who was unconscious. Another hiss grew louder, and Taog trembled. The queen groaned as if she was trying to wake.

“I’m right here,” Damon whispered in her ear. “I swear I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.”

His voice gave Hera a little more courage, but she was out of her league.

Her stomach tied into a tangled mess of Christmas lights. Looking at the men around her, they seemed so composed, but these men were warriors–dragon shifters–and used to battle. She needed to follow their lead instead of cowering in their shadows.

Hera’s hand tingled where she’d clasped Damon’s earlier on the Excalibur. She chanted the words of the spell over and over in her mind, hoping it would work. Power fluttered in her chest, but it was small, shy, and scared.

She sucked in her breath, then her mind went blank. Out of the murkiness of a tall building, angry red eyes stared at them. A large black talon emerged from the darkness, followed by the largest dragon she’d ever seen. It was bigger and longer than a Mack truck.

Her heart pounded shit, shit, shit.

“Great balls of fire,” she muttered under her breath. Her chest completely closed up, refusing to let the tiniest bit of air inside. Dizziness spun around her.

Taog’s fears were a million times justified. This creature could smite them with the flick of its tail. The sound of crunching and crackling next to her meant Damon was transforming into a dragon. He was fierce and terrifying, but he was a third smaller than Greum. He was no match for this thing.

“Don’t panic,” Anonghos said as he came up next to her. “Concentrate on your spell.”

Hera sucked in a bucket of air. She braced her shoulders, trying to remain calm in spite of Godzilla threatening to rip her to pieces. She had to do this. All of their lives depended on her staying focused.

She drew on her energy, refusing to give up, saying the words louder in her head. The power grew bigger, bolder, braver.

Cosima groaned again.

Smoke puffed out of Greum’s nostrils, and he pulled back his upper lip, snarling.

Taog transformed into a dragon and growled. He was a yellow and green dragon, and slightly bigger than Damon. He moved toward a large landing pad and roared, fire spewing from his mouth. Hera hurried after him, but Anonghos snagged her arm.

“You can’t follow the captain, remember?”

Shit, he was the decoy and so was the queen.

The queen groaned, turning her head back and forth, her blond hair falling across her face like a veil.

Tryker knelt next to her. “The sedative is wearing off.”

The sound of flapping made Hera freeze. Something was fluttering behind Greum. Hera thought it was a black fog or a cloud. Crap, it was the damn gooey brown things with the extremely long stingers flying faster than witches shooting passed a full moon.

She edged backward, not wanting to feel one piercing her skin. She glanced back at the Orion and almost ran inside, but remembered what Greum had done to it earlier. She was just as safe out here as she was inside. At least here she was with the crew of the Orion.

But she wasn’t helpless, either.

Rather than the queen, Greum headed toward Taog, hissing and snarling. Taog released a blaze of fire–flames engulfing around Greum–but he stepped out of the red wall as if it were a shadow. His scales were scorched, but the blaze hadn’t failed to stop his momentum.

Hera didn’t know if the fire had hurt him because he was such a powerful dragon, or if those things were driving him mad, forcing him to move forward.

Just as he was ready to charge Taog, he screeched, turning his head and gnashing his powerful jaws. Blood ran down his blackened side magically. Damon must have attacked him.

But Greum wasn’t done yet. He swung his powerful tail, and something smashed onto the pavement, groaning. Great horny toads, he could kill Damon. She couldn’t bear to lose him or see him battered and burned again.

Greum turned toward the sound and released a ball of fire. The heat of the flame immediately drenched Hera in sweat.

“Damon!” she screamed, hating herself for allowing the terror to grip hold of her.

But then suddenly, Greum flew into the air and landed on his back, his legs flopping around.

“Do it now, Hera, while he’s down.”

Just as Damon said this, more saucer-like creatures sprang out of the darkness with their stingers pointed right at them.

Her knees knocked together, matching the terror in her beating heart. Trying to ignore her fear, she chanted the spell.

“White as snow, pure as light, red as blood, ties of mates, bring forth the burning star.”

Her voice shook uncontrollably. Nothing happened.

The creatures moved toward them. Both Tryker and Anonghos fired their eruptors. Some fell, but not enough.

“Hera, do something!” Tryker yelled. “Or we’re all dead!”

She wouldn’t let any of them die, especially Damon. He’d sacrificed so much for his people, for her–now it was her turn. This time, she stuck out her palm toward Greum and the flying saucers, and in a loud, clear, voice, she said, “White as snow, pure as light, red as blood, ties of mates, bring forth the burning star.”

Power burst through her like a brilliant, burning sun. Her sweltering body went into savage convulsions. Her teeth chattered, biting and tearing into her tongue. Blood squirted down her throat and dripped down her lips. Yellow, red, and orange rays blurred her vision. Her hand sizzled where she had touched Damon. She swore her body had ruptured into flames.

“Close your eyes!” Tryker warned.

She didn’t know if he was yelling at her or them, but she did as he said.

A loud screech hurt her ears. The flapping sound ceased.

“The creatures!” Anonghos yelled. “They’re dying or retreating.”

The power drained suddenly, and she collapsed onto her hands and knees. Wetness trickled out of her nose and ears, and she spit blood onto the ground. The world spun around her, and all she could do was breathe. Her body was spent, and she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

Strong arms were around her, cradling her to a steely chest. Someone stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

“Hera, Hera, blazes, are you alive?”

Damon’s concerned voice pierced her foggy brain.

“I don’t know. What…what happened?”

“You did it.”

His voice choked.

“Damon, we need to get her to sickbay–now.”

Tryker’s urgent voice sent prickles of fear running down her spine.

She opened her eyes, but all she saw was darkness. “Damon…I can’t see.”

Something wet caressed her flesh.

“You’ll be okay,” Damon said. “I swear.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her.

She closed her eyes, struggling to rein in the racing agony, but her efforts died like a smashed engine slowly leaking oil. Finally the bright light burning inside her went out, and she remembered no more.

* * *

Damon walked back and forth outside of sickbay. His little witch had saved all of them, but her spell may have forfeited her life. She’d been in there for over two hours, and Tryker hadn’t come out to tell him what happened. He wanted to strangle him for keeping him in the dark.

“She’ll survive, Damon.”

Cosima sat in a wheelchair. Her faith had done nothing to elevate his fears. The creature inside her had withered and died. She was back to her beautiful and graceful self, which used to inflame him with lust. Now, when he looked at her, she was striking and his queen, but she wasn’t the object of his desire. That particular woman lay fighting for her life in sickbay.

“Come and sit with me, Damon,” she said. “Pacing back and forth is not going to make Tryker work any faster.”

“Your mate is fine, Cosima. Mine–” He couldn’t utter the words and crossed his arm over his waist while he shielded his eyes, not wanting her to see the tears scaling down his cheeks.

He should have told Hera he loved her. But he hadn’t even realized it until he saw her dying. What a fool he’d been.

Someone gripped his shoulder gently.

“Any word yet?” Anonghos asked anxiously.

Damon couldn’t answer him, and his body was tense with grief. Grief for lost words. Grief for not being a hero. His wrenching gut and breaking heart battled for which hurt the most. Every muscle twisted and turned into frayed knots. He’d never experienced anything like this.

But then he’d never experienced such an intense feeling before.

“No,” Cosima answered for him. “Tryker only came out to inform me that Greum was unconscious, but he would survive, thank the Fates! That was a couple of hours ago. We’ve heard nothing about Damon’s mate.”

Damon gritted his teeth as another wave of jealousy gripped him. He broke away from Anonghos and slumped down in a chair, away from either one of them. He rested his head in his hands, trying not to lash out.

Usually, he would be overcome with envy because he loathed seeing Cosima’s obvious love for Greum. This time was different. The green-eyed monster raised its ugly head, because her mate would survive while his might die.

“Captain wanted me to let you know that the things are dying on Zalara. Thanks to Hera, we were able to decipher the brightness of the light that not only killed the things but also kept most of the Zalarians alive.”

“How many dead?” Cosima asked.

“I’m sorry, but we lost over a thousand. Most of them were the old or very young.”

Cosima broke down sobbed. Normally, he would have rushed over to comfort her if Greum was absent, but he was too wrapped in his own misery to care.

Anonghos and Cosima talked quietly, giving him his space. His heart had nearly broken in two when he saw the blood foaming out of Hera’s mouth and running down her nose and ears. Why had that happened? What kind of a grisly spell had she conjured?

If he’d known this would have been the result, he’d never have let her cast the spell.

When she passed out in his arms, he’d shrieked with agony.

The minutes ticked like hours, and Damon sat rooted to the chair. He hadn’t wanted to talk with anybody.

“Damon,” Cosima said excitedly. “It’s Tryker.”

He slowly lifted his head, preparing for the worst. Tryker’s eyes had dark circles underneath them, and his face was grim.

He stood in front of him. “The worst is over, Damon.”

“Will she live?” Damon mustered a whisper.

“I don’t know. Human anatomy is different than ours, more vulnerable. She lost a lot of blood, and we had to manufacture more.”

“Why couldn’t she take ours?”

“It’s too thick for humans. I fear it would clog her heart and she’d have a heart attack.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s sleeping quietly. The next few days will decide whether she’ll survive. I’m afraid I’ve done all I can.”

“Would the doctors on Earth be more equipped to heal her?” Even though it would kill him, he’d take Hera back to Earth if this meant she would survive.

Tryker shook his head. “Our technology is superior to theirs. We just need to wait, Damon. I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.”

“I want to see her.”

“I know you do. Follow me.”

Damon followed Tryker into sickbay. Greum lay peacefully sleeping, his vitals on the medical board normal. Resentment pooled in Damon’s gut that the king would live.

Hera was in a room by herself. The medical board revealed a slow heartbeat, and the pain threshold was too high for a human. Her breath was shallow. Her face was so ashen that it made the white pillow brilliant. He took a chair next to her bed.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Tryker said. “If she awakens, call me. She may need a sedative to help with the pain.”

Damon nodded. His focus was on Hera. He picked up her stiff hand and clasped it gently in his hand. He caressed his thumb over her flesh, willing her to open her eyes, but she stubbornly remained unconscious.

He kissed her palm. “Don’t leave me. I need you.”

Her face was so still, and her hand was cold to the touch.

He folded her hand between his and pressed it against his forehead. She was his life, and she was slipping through his fingers. Before her life force edged away, he needed to tell her how he felt. He wasn’t afraid or blind anymore.

“Hera, I love you,” he whispered. He kissed her palm. “You’re my mate. Come back to me.”

But she hadn’t moved. His heart splintered, and he cursed himself for not admitting what he truly felt. If she lived, he wouldn’t make the mistake of keeping anything from her again. She deserved to know the truth.