Vulrux:

We climb the stairs silently, each of us lost in our thoughts.

So much is happening. Dennox’s memories might be coming back. Harper knows about the mind-wipes, but I don’t know if she realizes the significance of what’s happening. If Dennox can remember the Liberation of Kraush, he might also eventually remember how he ended up at the Crimson Citadel.

Dennox wants to be certain that he isn’t a monster. Me? I just want to know what happened so I can get closure on the past.

“I’m really getting in good shape,” Harper says as she climbs. “The first day, every muscle in my body was screaming in protest by the time I was back at camp. Another weird thing? I don’t have a timer, and the lake isn’t exactly set up for laps, but I swear I’m swimming faster too.”

I exchange a wary look with Dennox. It’s obvious what’s happening; the same thing happened with Viola when she mated with Arax and Nyx. In Harper’s case, the blood transfusion is causing her body to change. “It’s the Draekon genes,” I reply.

She stops in her tracks. I brace myself for her anger, but after a moment of thought, she shrugs philosophically. “Well, you did warn me,” she says. “And I like being stronger and faster.” Her expression turns intrigued. “At some point, will I become a dragon? That’d be awesome.”

I laugh out loud. At almost every turn, Harper surprises me. She has a resilience about her that is very attractive. In camp, she’s friendly and cheerful, taking the time to get to know every single person. She volunteers for chores and does her share without complaint. She’s curious about everything, and she’s genuinely interested in our lives, both back on the homeworld and on the prison planet.

“Only men with the Draekon mutation transform into dragons,” I tell her. “Sorry.”

“Of course.” She rolls her eyes. “Even on an alien planet, a glass ceiling.”

I frown in confusion at the unfamiliar phrase. “Never mind,” she murmurs. “Why are there no female dragons?”

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “The Draekons were mostly wiped out during the Great Rebellion, and any mention of them was erased from the ThoughtVaults. That was a thousand years ago. Arax, as Firstborn, was able to access the secret archives, but there wasn’t much detail in them.”

Harper chews on her lower lip as she digests that.

Beirax believes the Draekon race is poised on the edge of rebirth. Is he right? I’m inclined to doubt the scientist. He’s got all the hallmarks of a fanatic, and I can’t trust him to be objective.

“The whole thing sucks,” she says. “You guys got exiled from your home, and you don’t even know why?”

Her concern warms my heart. “We’ll know soon enough what the Draekons are capable of,” I tell her. “Arax and Nyx can transform at will now. Once the rains stop, they’ll be able to test their abilities.”

“Not just Arax and Nyx,” she says, her face coloring. “Won’t you transform too?”

If we complete the mating bond.

But that isn’t as simple as it appears because it isn’t just about desire. I’m hiding Beirax’s revelations from Harper. A small, base part of me wants to forget about the cloakship and take what Harper freely offers, but I won’t allow myself to do that.

I’m blurring the line between right and wrong. Guilt about drugging Beirax fills me. I should have told everyone about what I discovered ten days ago, but I didn’t. I’ve kept shamefully silent.

Before we go any further, Harper deserves to know the truth.

I hesitate, wondering how to formulate my reply. Dennox gives me a sharp look, and I shake my head imperceptibly. “I expect so,” I reply at last. “I don’t want to take you for granted, Harper.”

She flushes. “I don’t know if you noticed,” she says, “but I had a really good time down there. I think it’s safe to say that sex is a foregone conclusion.”

* * *

Harper:

Confession time. I’m a little freaked out by the Draekon mutation thingy. The idea of an organism inside me rewriting my genetic code, tweaking and fine-tuning until it gets to a better, more perfect version of Harper? It reminds me of the Cybermen in Doctor Who. You will be upgraded. Or, worse, the scene in Alien, the one where the baby alien bursts out of that guy’s belly.

Don’t be ridiculous, Harper.

From what Vulrux just told me, nobody knows anything about the Draekons, not even Arax. The scientists created them, and the scientists destroyed them, and when Draekon genes show up in the population, the scientists just sweep it under the rug by exiling them.

The scientists. Of course. The fourteen exiles might not know anything about the mutation, but I bet that the two scientists stuck on the prison planet do.

I’m going to need to talk to Raiht’vi. As soon as I can.

You know the women who claim they have headaches to avoid sex? I never thought I’d be one of them, but the moment we reach the camp, I turn to Dennox and Vulrux. “I’m not feeling too good,” I fib, feeling a stab of guilt at their concerned expressions. “My head hurts. It’s nothing a nap won’t solve.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“What about food, diya?” Dennox asks, his hand cradling my cheek. “Should we get you something?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m still stuffed from breakfast.”

Vulrux looks like he’s going to probe further, but he’s distracted by the sight of an approaching man. It’s Rorix, the Draekon who was in a coma for three months. I wonder if Thrax teased him about my own quicker recovery. If so, Rorix has never given any indication. The man is perpetually cheerful and good-natured.

He greets us with a friendly smile before turning to Vulrux. “Zorux cut himself while carving a knife,” he says. “It’s nothing serious. Do you have a salve for him?”

“You don’t think anything short of a full enrak attack is serious,” Vulrux replies with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll come along and take a look.” He gives me an uncertain gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay, Harper?”

“Yes.” I put my hand on his arm. Mmm. Nice biceps. Really nice. Firm. I picture Vulrux holding me down as he kisses me, and my stomach does a funny little jump. I can’t wait to make love to them.

Vulrux disappears with Rorix. Once he leaves, Dennox turns to me. “If you need me, I’ll be in my house.”

His expression is pensive. In fact, come to think of it, he’s barely said anything since he mentioned the Liberation of Kraush. “Is everything okay, Dennox? You look shaken.”

His shoulders lift in a small shrug. “I’ve been mind-wiped eighteen times, Harper. I thought my memories were lost forever. To find out that I might be able to regain them…” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what to feel.”

I nicknamed Dennox Mr. Linebacker when I first met him. He’s big, strong and fearless. The rare moment of vulnerability takes me by surprise. I stand on tiptoe and brush my lips against his. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He squeezes my hand. “Thank you. But I need to be alone.”

“Of course.” I stare at his back as he walks away, my heart sinking in my chest. Dennox and Vulrux have told me all about their lives, with one exception. They’ve never talked about their first mate. Ever.

Now Dennox doesn’t want to talk about his memories.

I stand outside Vulrux’s front door for a long time, staring at the rain. If I’m being perfectly honest, I really like Dennox and Vulrux. They’re hot. They’re nice. They treat me like some kind of princess. And umm, not to be too crass, but the stuff we did down in the lake? Whoa. I have no words.

I might even be falling in love.

But what if they’ve never gotten over their first mate?

I make my way down the path to Zorux’s house, where Raiht’vi and Beirax are recuperating. As I walk, my mind spins in a thousand different directions. The hanky-panky with Dennox and Vulrux. Dennox’s memories returning, and what that might mean for us. Vulrux’s odd hesitation when we talked about the two of them transforming into dragons.

Beirax or Raiht’vi?

Let’s see. Beirax crashed our spaceship on the prison planet, killing Janet outright and condemning the rest of us to spend the remainder of our lives here. Raiht’vi, on the other hand, might not be the queen of charm, but she told Vulrux and Dennox how to save my life.

Raiht’vi it’ll be.

I knock on Zorux’s front door. Nyx opens it, and I blink at him, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He snorts. “It’s my turn to feed the two ungrateful idiots in there,” he says. “Why the two of them can’t eat in the dining area like the rest of us, I don’t understand. Then again, they’ll probably just glower at everyone.” He gives me a quizzical look. “And what are you doing here?”

Is Nyx going to give me a hard time? “I’m here to see Raiht’vi,” I reply.

He steps aside. “First door on the right.”

Well, that was easy.

Raiht’vi’s door is ajar. She’s awake, half-propped up on her bed, fiddling with a thick bluish metal band on her wrist. When I knock, she looks up and seems surprised to see me.

“Can I come in?”

Her expression turns guarded. “Yes.”

I sit down on the solitary chair in the room and get right to the point. “When Vulrux and Dennox gave me their blood, it cured me, but it also passed on the Draekon mutation to me.”

She nods curtly.

“My body’s changing,” I tell the scientist. “I’m getting stronger. I can swim faster.” I take a deep breath. “What else can happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Her reply is evasive, and I’m positive she knows more than she’s telling. “Are you sure?” I press her. “You were the one who told Vulrux and Dennox about the curative properties of Draekon blood. Are you positive you don’t know what might end up happening to me?”

This time, she gives me a dismissive look. “I don’t share everything I know with humans,” she says, her lips curled into a scowl. “Or with Draekons.”

Her hands clench into fists. On the Fehrat 1, only a few weeks ago, Raiht’vi seemed invincible. Now though? She’s trying to stay strong, but she’s stranded on this world as much as I am. I don’t have any close family—none of the women who were chosen to fly to Zorahn do—but she might. Maybe she had a husband, children. Maybe she’s homesick and has to hide it under a veneer of strength.

I realize I know nothing about the Zorahn woman. She’s got to be feeling the same tumult of emotions that I’ve been struggling with since I woke up from my coma, and she doesn’t even have the company of the others to cheer her up.

Honestly, I feel a little sorry for her.

I pull my chair closer to her bed. “Sofia’s the kind and gentle one,” I tell her. “I’m much blunter. My mom used to accuse me of being tactless. When my friends in high school would call me to whine about their loser boyfriends, I wouldn’t make sympathetic noises. I’d tell them to dump the assholes.”

“What are you chattering about, human?”

“The name’s Harper.” I give her what I hope is a friendly smile. “Should I call you Raiht’vi, or do you have a nickname?”

The Zorahn scientist looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Hey, we’re stuck here,” I tell her. “Might as well be friends, right?”

Raiht’vi has a great resting bitch face. The look she gives me is withering, but I don’t allow my smile to dim. Finally, she relents with a sigh of impatience. “You can call me Raiht’vi.”

We’re making progress. “Awesome.” I draw a deep breath. “Look,” I tell her honestly, “we’re all in this together. Beirax got us in this mess, but there’s no need for the rest of us to be at each other’s throats.” God, I feel like Viola. Any moment now, we’ll be holding hands and singing Kumbaya.

She snorts derisively. “Your human lifespan is short,” she says. “I can never be friends with the Draekons. There’s too much history between us.”

“Between you and the Draekons?”

Her body goes still. “Between the scientists and the Draekons,” she says at last, her voice wary. “The scientists created the Draekons and sent them to battle against their will. When Kannix gave the order to annihilate the Draekons, it was the scientists that created the diseases that wiped them out. I can assure you, Harper Boyd, that no matter what you think, the Draekons and I can never be friends.”

I give her an incredulous look. “The stuff you’re talking about happened a thousand years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you think Arax has forgotten that it is a scientist that tested him for the Draekon mutation? The mutation that stripped him from the throne?”

I feel out of my depth. “I don’t think Arax bears you any harm.”

Her retort is immediate and predictable. “You know nothing.” She laughs bitterly. “Beirax, that misguided idiot, wants to bring the Draekons back. The madmen in the Order of the Crimson Night believe that the Draekons can be controlled. Fools, all of them. They forget the most important thing. You can control an animal, but the Draekons are sentient.” She pauses, and her next words are almost inaudible. “And they have much to be angry about.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m trying to think of what to say next. Raiht’vi is talking about events that happened a thousand years ago as if it were yesterday, but staying stuck in the past solves nothing. If I were going to do that, I’d be sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, moaning about chocolate and coffee.

God, I miss a good latte. I’d kill for a cappuccino machine. And Internet access. If I had Internet access, I’d be posting pictures of hot guys with eight-pack abs all day. Who needs Tumblr when you have Draekons?

Finally, Raiht’vi breaks the quiet, probably in order to get me out of her room. “The Draekon mutation shouldn’t affect you adversely,” she says. “Humans are a compatible species.”

Hallelujah, she’s talking. “If I get pregnant, the baby isn’t going to burst out of me, right? It’s not going to leave a big, gaping, hole in my stomach?”

Aliens. Should have never watched that movie as a teenager. Scared the crap out of me.

Raiht’vi gives me an ‘are you freaking kidding me’ look, the kind my teachers used to reserve for me when I said something exceptionally stupid. “There is nothing that should prevent you from carrying a child to term,” she says finally.

I heave a sigh of relief. There’s no need to freak out; there’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing to stop me from sexing it up with my two hot men.

It’s taken me more than two weeks to get to this point, two weeks in which the attraction has simmered, the fire slowly being stoked, two weeks in which my doubts have disappeared under the weight of my need.

I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m ready.