Dennox:

Once again, I watch my mate die in front of my eyes, and once again, I’m helpless to act.

A dozen people are clustered around Harper Boyd’s bedside. The human woman has been in a coma for twelve moons. She breathes on her own, and when we hold water to her lips, she drinks. But she hasn’t eaten in twelve days. Her body wastes away to nothing in front of our eyes, and there is nothing any of us can do to stop it.

“I’m completely out of ideas,” the human healer, Sofia Menendez says, a frustrated look on her face. “Viola, any thoughts?”

Viola Lewis, the human mate of Arax and Nyx, shakes her head helplessly. “I’ve got nothing.” She turns to Vulrux. “Tell us again what happened to Rorix. How did he come out of his coma?”

“The situations are nothing alike.” I speak for the first time, my voice harsh. The Firstborn looks up, surprise on his face at my interruption. Too late, I realize that no-one knows why I’m drawn to this human woman’s bedside. No-one knows that Harper Boyd is my mate.

Except for Vulrux, Thirdborn of Zoraht. My pair-bond feels the same complex set of emotions that I do. Vulrux is a healer who couldn’t save his mate. I’m a soldier who couldn’t protect her. Our shame is etched deep into our souls, and we’ve never spoken of the events that led to our exile.

“Rorix was in a waking trance,” I continue. “He didn’t speak, and he didn’t appear to recognize us, but he still ate and drank.” I take a deep breath. “This human woman is frail. She isn’t Draekon. She doesn’t have long to live.”

Viola Lewis has a stricken expression on her face at my words. Ryanna Dickson, a dark-haired human woman, straightens, her eyes flashing with anger. “Harper isn’t frail,” she says tightly. “She’s not helpless, and neither are we. If there is a way to save her, we will find it.”

Nyx puts his arm around his mate and gives me an annoyed look. “Even the thieves on the streets of Vissa learn tact,” he bites out. “It’s a pity that the Zoraken aren’t taught manners.”

No. We’re taught instead to kill.

I stare back at Nyx, refusing to back down. The thief has never lost a mate. Who is he to speak to me of tact? Has he lived through the pain of watching two mates die? Has he ever felt as helpless as I do at this moment? I am cursed by the lives I’ve taken, and the fabric of my soul lies in shreds. That must be why the fates taunt me so.

“Enough.” Vulrux steps between the two of us, his voice calm. “Our arguments do not help Harper Boyd.”

He’s right. Unfortunately, we’re out of ideas. Vulrux has tried every medicinal herb in his stores on the human woman. Sofia Menendez has given her drugs from her meager supplies. Nothing has revived our mate.

Slowly, the others trickle away. I stay where I am, ignoring Arax’s thoughtful stare. When I’m alone with Harper Boyd, I lay my hand over hers. The woman’s flesh is hot to the touch, her skin the color of an angry sea. The toxin lingers in her blood, but unlike the mild venom of the kilpei plant, it can’t be sucked out.

When Vulrux had carried her up the cliffs on his back, unwilling to entrust the precious human to any of the others, our mate had been wearing the strange clothing of her people, a dark blue garment that clung to her body, highlighting every curve. Now, she’s got a towel draped over her, the thin silvery fabric made from the sturdy webs spun by the ahuma, and nothing else. The dragon inside me purrs at the thought of her nakedness and demands I complete the mating bond, but I am Zoraken, and I have honor. This woman is more than a soft body. She is a person with thoughts and wishes of her own, and whatever her dreams of her future were, I’m sure they didn’t involve being stranded on an alien planet and dying from a poisonous fungus.

“Harper Boyd,” I say softly. “I was a soldier of the Empire. I killed in the name of the High Emperor, and though the mind-wipes prevent me from remembering everything, I know that my soul is stained and tattered.” I take a deep breath. “The Zoraken do not take mates. We do not have families. We die in battle, and I have no cause to expect more.”

Yet I do.

She stirs in her sleep, and I tense, hoping against hope that she will wake. Vulrux must sense her movement because he reappears at her bedside. His shoulders slump when he realizes that she’s still unconscious. “Nothing?” he asks me.

I shake my head.

“The first time,” he says quietly, “I was young. I had lost before I knew what loss was. This time—” His voice trails off.

I seldom let my thoughts wander to the time I was held captive by the scientists. There was a woman there, but the dragon within me hadn’t recognized her as my mate. Not until Vulrux had shown up to complete the triad.

It was the same way when Vulrux had set this human woman down on his bed. The instant the three of us were in the same room, the golden bonds had brightened, but they’d faded almost immediately.

Harper Boyd is dying.

“You are both fools.” A harsh voice interrupts us. I look up to see one of the scientists in the doorway. Raiht’vi.

Every time I look at the white-clad woman, animosity rises in my blood. I’ve searched my memories—those still left to me after repeated mind-wipes—and I can’t recollect her. Then again, the images in my mind are fragmented, a result of the cocktail of drugs that have been forced into me from the time I was conscripted.

“What do you mean?” Vulrux’s voice is mild, but I sense the tautly stretched anger underneath.

“You think with your hearts,” she snaps, moving into the room. Her steps are slow, and her face contorts in pain as she moves. She is still healing from her wounds, but that doesn’t stop her from glaring at us. “Try using your minds instead.”

“You speak in riddles,” I say icily. “Explain.”

“Before the Zoraken, there were the Draekons,” she replies. “They were the perfect soldier race. They were made to be invulnerable.” She stares at me with a strange expression on her face. “You are Draekon, soldier. The poisons on this world cannot harm you. Pass that immunity on to your mate.”

Our heads snap up in shock at her words. “How do you know that Harper Boyd is our mate?” Vulrux asks, his hands clenching into fists. “No one else knows.”

“Many have eyes and do not see.”

I am a soldier of the Empire. I know how to persuade Raiht’vi to part with her secrets, but I doubt that the Firstborn will give us permission to torture the scientist. Besides, even though her words are riddled with mystery, she’s telling us something important. “What immunity? We cannot resist the fungus any more than the humans can. Rorix was in a coma for six months.”

She huffs impatiently. “The Draekons adapt. If Rorix were to brush against the same fungus today, it would give him nothing other than a rash. His immunity will have passed onto you.”

My spine prickles with unease. “I don’t trust you. I will not risk hurting our mate.”

“Her words make sense.” The human healer, Sofia Menendez stands in the doorway. I wonder how long she’s been there. In normal times, I would have heard her approach before she got near, but I’m distracted by the lovely golden-haired woman next to me, her breathing labored as she struggles to live. “In essence, that’s how vaccines work on Earth. I think we should try it.”

“No.” Vulrux’s lips tighten. “I agree with Dennox. My experience tells me that scientists are not to be trusted.”

Raiht’vi moves swiftly. Before I can react, she grabs Vulrux’s knife from his belt and slices a deep cut in Harper Boyd’s palm. Sofia shrieks as red blood gushes out from the wound. “Are you insane?” the human healer says angrily. “What have you done?”

Raiht’vi faces her squarely. “The human doesn’t have time for your endless debates,” she snarls. She turns to the two of us. “Act now to save your mate, Draekon. Let your blood mingle with hers.”

My jaw tightens. “If this fails,” I promise the crimson-haired scientist, “I will see you dead of my own hands.”

She doesn’t reply. She grabs the human healer by the hand, and half-drags, half-pushes her from the room. With sick fear in my heart, I pull my knife out and slice a cut in my palm. Vulrux does the same. The two of us take Harper’s hand in ours. Our bright blue blood mingles with her rich red.

We wait. The moments tick by. Harper Boyd’s breathing stutters and seems to cease, and time comes to a halt. I’m ready to find the scientist, wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze when Vulrux’s voice stops me. “Wait.”

Golden threads appear in my mind’s eye, chains that bind Vulrux and me to the woman on the bed. As we hold her hand, the bonds strengthen. The deep blue poison in Harper Boyd’s blood recedes, and her skin regains a pinkish hue. Her eyelashes flutter.

The beast within me exults. Our mate lives, it growls in triumph. As soon as she wakes, we will claim her.

But the beast doesn’t rule me. The man does. And the man has learned that the mate-bond brings only pain.