“I have a confession to make,” Imril said, his voice a low rumble as he stared out of the crumbling window. He stood with his back to her, his hands folded behind him.

His armor was gone, replaced with his regular clothes. She got an eyeful of pale arms that rippled with corded muscle. Unless one was very, very close, the tiny, almost microscopic scales that formed his skin weren’t visible at all. From where she stood, his skin looked like it was made of velvet.

Barefoot, Esania padded across the stone floor, avoiding the occasional fallen rock or piece of random debris. Strange plants snaked across the crumbling surface; knotted vines and small dark green ferns and tiny tufts of wispy grass.

At one point, her bare foot touched a patch of stunningly vivid purple moss, and she withdrew sharply, fearing it might be poisonous.

Everything on this planet was deceptive. Esania had invented a general rule for Khira: the more beautiful the life-form, the more dangerous it was. Imril was pretty damn beautiful himself, and twice as dangerous, when he wanted to be.

She reached his side and looked out the window. “So the legendary Imril wishes to confess?” From here, the view of the vast lake was spectacular. She was used to the red-dust planetscapes of Mars, not wild, verdant forests and cool bodies of water, so to see this in person was a rare treat. “What can you possibly want to confess to me?”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, human.”

Primean, she wanted to correct him, but what was the point?

He turned to her, looking devastatingly earnest. “The first time I fed from you… the first proper feeding, I came so close to killing you. You shouldn’t have offered yourself to me like that.” There was a hint of reprimand in his voice. He inhaled deeply, locking eyes with her.

Esania went very still as she saw the hunger in his gaze. “You’re a little terrifying to be around. I took a calculated risk. I would rather you took from me gently than violently,” she admitted, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

“You have nothing to fear from me.” Imril said stiffly as he shifted on his feet, moving a few inches away from her. “I’m not as hungry as before. I can control it now.”

“Can you?”

“I just did, didn’t I?” His wings lifted defensively.

“Hm.” Esania stared out across the lake, the wind teasing the ends of her braids. A storm was brewing in the distance, dark clouds gathering ominously. “How long does this last? Until you get so hungry you can’t control it any longer… again?”

“No. That won’t happen. I will make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“Because letting me go isn’t an option?”

“You are mine now, Esania. That is not necessarily a bad thing, especially on this planet.”

“Your servant,” she said dryly, appreciating the irony of the situation. Not too long ago, she’d been the benevolent master. Now she was the helpless one.

“Not a servant,” Imril countered.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

So close, yet just outside of her arm’s reach. She wasn’t imagining things—she could feel his magnetic pull. What are you, exactly? She caught a tendril of his scent—spice, earthiness, male musk—and suddenly her heart was racing again, and her arousal spiked, bringing with it a cascade of strange sensations.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her ears felt warm. Her breath caught, and her lips parted slightly, yearning for something more.

But most powerful of all was the feeling that spread through her core, awakening a part of her that had long been suppressed.

Heat surged between her thighs. She froze, overwhelmed by this… this… arousal. Is this really happening to me? Esania fought to keep her expression blank. If the Drakhin ever found out that her body was responding to his presence in such a way…

“After you offered me your vir,” Imril continued, his voice a low rumble, “I was determined that you wouldn’t be my only Source, so I went in search of another.”

“And so you abducted Sara, a pregnant woman?”

“I did not know she was with child. Had I known…” He shook his head. “I was wearing full armor. That would have blocked the drift. I did not feed from her.”

“I don’t understand. You… you wanted to show me that I’m not indispensable? That I can be replaced?”

He went quiet, his golden gaze roaming slowly over every inch of her, which only had the effect of stoking her arousal to new heights.

He mustn’t know he has this kind of effect on me.

“I was wrong.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth… Stars, did he know?

Ba-bump.

“You are unlike any creature I’ve ever encountered, Drakhin or Vradhu or otherwise.”

Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump.

“You’re mine now, Esania. Make no mistake, I do not plan on letting you go.”

She should be angry at his haughty expression, at his insufferable imperious tone, but all she could do was stare at his face, watching the bright afternoon light play across his pearlescent skin. “You’re clearly comfortable with the idea of owning people.”

He chuckled a little at that. “It is a fair trade. I don’t believe in abusing my Sources. You will be well looked after and given everything you need… everything you desire. You are under my protection now. When I am stronger, I will reclaim my eyrie above the ocean and start to rebuild my House.”

House? Eyrie? “Who exactly are you on this planet, Imril?”

“I am—was—the Overlord. Along with Mael, I was the first of my kind. We are twins, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

No, I hadn’t.

Imril and Mael were polar opposites.

His expression hardened and his eyes became distant, reminding Esania of a statue. Imril took another step backwards, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. “You brought me back to life, Esania. For that I owe you a debt that I fully intend to repay, but I can never let you go. Not now.”

Oh. Somehow, she didn’t exactly desire freedom from him. Freedom was the wild jungle and living with the Vradhu and hunting and gathering food until the end of her days.

Freedom was washing in cold water collected from small ponds and cooking outside over an open fire, the smell of woodsmoke lingering in one’s clothes and hair for days.

Freedom was sleeping in a hut constructed of wood and vines, the unnerving sounds of the forest beasts filtering through the walls at night.

Esania didn’t want to go back to that. Here she had food and shelter and clean clothes, and a proper bed, not to mention hot water.

It was… civilized, and Imril could protect them from the Naaga.

Things were better here.

And he’d just told her he owed her a debt.

“Then I want to call in that debt,” she said quietly, her heart pounding as she made a decision. “You have to do something for me.”

“Oh?” He inclined his head, not promising anything, a half-smile playing across his lips, as if her request was absurd but he would tolerate it anyway.

“You abducted me,” Esania accused, taking a step forward. “You started a fight with the Vradhu, seriously injured one of them, took me from my people, and locked me in a tower. You took my… my… strength without asking, like some sort of energy vampire.”

Imril just stared at her haughtily, not offering any form of apology. He shrugged. “I am not interested in your analysis of what I am. What is your request?”

Esania took a deep breath. “Actually, there are two things. My people. I want to bring them here, along with the Vradhu who protected us—if they choose to come—and I want you to promise to protect them… us. Secondly, Sara tells me one of our own might have been taken. If she really is gone, I want you to help find her, and bring her back.” She was taking a risk by asking him this, but she had to. The longer the girls stayed out in the wilderness, the more chance they had of getting abducted. The Vradhu were fierce hunters, but the Naaga had technology on their side.

Now more than ever, her people were in danger.

“Vradhu…” Imril’s expression darkened. “I will not have Vradhu in my eyrie.”

“One of my people is mated to a Vradhu… well, two of them.” Technically, Calexa Acura wasn’t her people, but the mercenary had put her life on the line to make sure they all got off the Hythra safely, so therefore, she was her people, along with the other mercenary women—tough, level-headed Zahra and that firebrand, Mai.

Imril shook his head. “Obviously, a lot has changed since I fell asleep inside Za. Vradhu mating with other species?” He scoffed.

“Get used to it.” From the interactions she’d observed between her girls and some of the gruff Vradhu warriors, there were probably going to be a few more of those unions. “I want them here.” She adopted the tone she used to use when speaking in the Primean Senate—cool, rational, a little bit conciliatory. “Think about it. You have a whole bunch of humans running around in the forest with their bodies full of that precious energy. Can you afford to let them fall into the hands of your enemies?”

“No,” he growled, his wings rising. For a moment, he just glowered at her, radiating tension, his scary eyes glowing. Had she overstepped? “You make a point,” he said at last, his voice low and dangerous. “I will bring your people to you, without the Vradhu.”

“If you try and steal them away, the Vradhu will try and fight you.”

“I’ll incinerate them,” he growled.

“And risk injuring my people? I’d never forgive you, especially if you killed one of my girls.”

“What do you want, Esania?” His voice deepened to a growl, and she sensed she dancing on the very edge of his patience. But still, this was her one and only chance.

“Take me with you. We’ll bring them back with or without the Vradhu.” Secretly, she fully intended to have the purple-skinned warriors around, but she could try and negotiate that later. This was a start, and the situation was fluid. “If they see that I’m unharmed, they’ll relax a little. I’ll convince them to come.”

Imril considered her for a moment, before leaning in close, breathing in her scent, absorbing the faintest amount of her energy. “Very well,” he said at last. “We will go and track down your people, but first you need to rest. I will not fly until you are at full strength.” He gave her a stern look that made her insides melt a little. Damn it. “One favor, Esania. That is all. Actually, it is two favors, but I will humor you just this once.” He went still, his eyes flicking up and down over her body, studying her with blistering intensity. “Then you will serve me for as long as I need you.”

“As long as you need me?” Her eyebrow twitched.

“Don’t look at me like that, Esania. I’m not some mindless savage. You will be well taken care of.”

She shot him a dark look. “In exchange, I just need to provide you with an unlimited supply of my life-force, right?” The thought filled her with a weird mixture of horror and anticipation. “What exactly are you planning, Drakhin?”

Imril folded his arms, the movement accentuating his glorious biceps. He really was a study in power; tall, muscular, radiating a sense of barely contained tension. His closeness put her on edge; she wanted to run from this deadly creature, but at the same time a dark part of her craved his touch.

“I’m going to take back what’s left of my world,” he said softly. “I made a mistake, and it cost me three hundred revolutions and my empire.”

“Mistake?”

“I grew complacent. It seems that the worst kinds of betrayals occur from within.”

“Sounds familiar,” she said dryly, thinking of Earth’s long, checkered history. “Does that have something to do with you flying around naked, looking for a defenseless human to abduct?”

“Huh.” He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I entered the fray much too late. They had engineered a virus that was fatal to Drakhin, and they unleashed it inside my territory. By the time I reached the battlefield, I was infected. I thought I was dying.”

“And you tried to take all of them down with you… A pyrrhic victory, rather than defeat?”

“Am I that predictable, or are you some sort of telepath?”

“Just a scholar of history and a student of character. When you read enough, you get a feeling for how these sorts of things usually pan out.”

Surprise flitted across his elegant features. “I did not think war would be common to all worlds. I thought that perhaps my kind were abnormally aggressive.”

“Oh, it is, believe me.” Except on Mars. Through strict behavioral controls, and by limiting the number of people allowed on Mars, the Primean race had managed to keep war and conflict away from the Red Planet for centuries.

But the Serakhine wasn’t perfect. Far from it. The orderly exterior hid dark secrets.

She’d found that out the hard way.

“Why didn’t the Plague kill you?” she asked, half-fearing the answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe because my brother and I are slightly different to the other Drakhin. We are far more powerful than the second generation, but we paid a price for that.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I don’t know much of anything anymore. I don’t know what’s become of my world since I fell.” He moved a fraction closer, and she swore she felt the chasm inside him; a hunger that was so deep and complex that she felt she was only scratching the surface.

A hunger he kept oh-so tightly controlled.

His power, his darkness, his unexpected, unpredictable tenderness… it was intoxicating.

“You are my Source,” he whispered, a dark smile curving his pale lips. “I don’t want any other. With your power, I am going to take back Khira.”

Stars, what have I done? Is this all a terrible mistake?

But she couldn’t afford to go back on her plan now. The stakes were too high. Esania stepped forward, her eyes locked on his. “The difference between me cooperating, or having to be dragged kicking and screaming to do your bidding, lies in whether I can trust you.” She leaned closer, challenging him. “Is there such a thing as honor in your culture, Drakhin?”

“For the right person,” he replied, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. “Is there such a thing as the willingness to take a risk in your culture, Esania? How do you know I won’t just go to where your people are and slaughter them all?”

Because you didn’t hurt Sara, even when you so easily could have. Because you protected her when Mael came for her.

Because you didn’t kill me, even when I practically invited you to.

“You… wouldn’t,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off his face, particularly his mouth. Those lush, sensual lips were so at odds with the hard lines of his face. His lips parted slightly, revealing a flash of sharp teeth.

“Be a good Source,” he murmured, “and perhaps I will give you the world. This little favor you ask of me… it is nothing compared to what I can do for you if you please me.”

“You can have my vir, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll please you. I can only be myself.”

“Maybe that is enough. I will do as you ask of me, human, but do not mistake my cooperation for kindness.”

“Fine.” Esania carefully concealed her surge of triumph. By using Primean logic, she’d just convinced a incredibly dangerous millennia-old being to protect her people. Was it risky? Sure. But she couldn’t stomach the thought of them staying in the wilderness, at constant risk of being attacked and abducted.

She considered all the possibilities and came to the conclusion that out of the two options, this was by far the better one.

Besides, Imril had the chance to feed from Sara, and he’d held back. Just now, he’d told Esania something profound and more than a little terrifying.

He only wanted her.

She was betting he wouldn’t try and feed off anyone else. She took a deep breath. “Now, there’s this small matter of cooking.”

“Cooking?” a look of bemusement spread across Imril’s face.

“Cooking.” Esania nodded, crossing her arms. “We humans actually prefer our meat cooked by fire instead of eaten raw.”

Not that she expected him to understand.

He, who didn’t even eat food.

She, who had never touched a cooking utensil in her life.

Ha.

She was about to explain the concept to him when her legs started to feel wobbly, and she had to put a hand out against the crumbling windowsill to steady herself. It was as if all the adrenaline had drained from her body in one huge rush, leaving her completely depleted.

“I have used you far too much,” Imril murmured, and for the very first time, she saw something else in his eyes—tenderness—and it floored her. “I won’t touch you again until you are ready. You need to rest.”

He stopped just short of apologizing, and Esania secretly wondered if he had ever said sorry to anyone in his life.

“Speaking of food…” He reached into his pocket. “Here.”

“Wh-what’s this?” Esania reached out and took the item. She stared at it for a moment, not quite comprehending. The sweet, slightly pungent smell of tchirrin berries filled the air, and it clicked. This was the pouch she’d dropped when Imril had swooped down and plucked her away from the Vradhu clan. “How did you find this?”

One of the ripe fruits rolled out onto her palm. Out of impulse, she popped it into her mouth, and its delicate skin broke, releasing the sweet, soft, gooey, overripe flesh.

A cross between kiwifruit and watermelon and pineapple. That’s what it tasted like. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of violet across her brown skin.

Then it occurred to her that Imril was staring at her intently, his gaze fixated on her mouth as she chewed.

“Mmhm?” What? Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She swallowed the fruit, and Imril’s eyes dropped to her neck, and she could have sworn she heard a growling sound coming from deep within his chest.

A warm sensation flooded her body, rising into her cheeks and her ears, spreading right down into her core, seeping between her thighs, awakening something that she hadn’t thought even existed.

“You found this in the forest and brought it back… for me?”

Imril nodded. Now he was staring at her hands. Why was every single part of her body suddenly an endless source of fascination for him?

“You dropped it,” he murmured. “They should not go to waste.”

How unexpectedly… sweet. Esania curled her fingers around the pouch, holding onto it as if it were the most valuable gift in the Universe. The taste of tchirrin lingered on her tongue, and it was truly the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten.

She could almost feel its energy surging into her, replacing the vir Imril had taken.

“But you are tired,” Imril growled, “and that cut needs tending to. Rau!” He summoned his servant, switching from intense to tender to bossy to utterly imperious in a heartbeat. Esania could easily imagine him presiding over a court of equally domineering Drakhin.

Overlord.

Somehow, the title fit him perfectly, but it was just a drop in the ocean of his history.

Who the hell are you, Imril?