Furious, Roden steamed. Bracing his arms against the soft mattress, he pushed himself up and fell back with a groan. Fyet! He was as weak as a fregee. He was panting by the time he found himself on his feet, every muscle protesting. He rolled his shoulders. Fortunately, someone had put his shoulder back into place. As for the blaster wound, a thick balm covered light pink skin. While it throbbed worse than all twelve hells, he’d heal; just another scar to add to his collection.

Inch by excruciating inch, he stretched his wings. The agonizing burn of healing tendons and muscle was a welcome feeling. He would have worried if he felt nothing. It would’ve meant the nerve damage had been so severe he might never fly again. If only he had full Draeken medical facilities at his disposal, he’d be completely healed by now. As it was, with the extent of his healing, he suspected they’d kept him in a coma for days.

He walked toward the small window. The sunlight was bright. He shaded his eyes with a hand. A mossy well sat under the shade of lush maples. Movement caught his eye. Off in the distance, a guardsman on patrol glided by, his wings outstretched. It was a calm day given how smoothly he flew. Not a single thermal to buffet the flight. Roden craved to fly again himself.

No longer able to watch, his gaze moved away from outside to the window. From what he could make out, he was in a quaint human house far from any city. Ivy invaded the edges of the glass. It was idyllic, and he wanted to destroy it.

“Lord Commander?”

Roden turned to find a haggard Draeken female. She’d always slouched, and her wings drooped.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

He motioned. “Come in, Gix.”

She nodded slightly and stepped inside the room. Taking a spot in the corner, her eyes flitted everywhere but to him. She was a small female but precious to his race, as there were far too few females remaining. Most were being coddled and protected. He refused to do that to Gix. He’d been amazed she’d survived the war, let alone the trip to Earth. She was classic prey, but yet somehow, in the moments that demanded it, she displayed more courage than males nearly twice her size. She needed those moments to feel strong. If she were tucked away in a protective shelter, the spark within Gix would fade. Hells if Roden would ever allow that to happen now that she was just discovering her potential.

She was also one of the few people whose loyalty he never doubted.

“It’s good to see you up on your feet, sir.”

“Bring me up to speed.”

She fidgeted. “Well, sir, you’ve been out for fourteen days.”

Fourteen days! He brought a hand to his forehead. The entire time was a chasm.

“For the first couple days, we weren’t sure you’d pull through. You kept shouting incoherently, mostly about a woman.” She scuffed at the floor with the toe of her boot. “You tried to get out of bed. After you broke three more bones in your left wing, we were forced to sedate you.”

As he suspected, they’d drugged him. He stared out the window, remembering back to when he’d been no more than a child, just coming into his body. Females had begun to notice him. No, more than notice him, they’d flocked to him like lightning to Sephia’s red, iron-laden clouds.

Lightning filled the clouds that night, turning the red skies to passionate iridescence. In the orchard, he’d kissed her. She was married, but she hadn’t cared. She came to him. He was young and too proud. Her husband had refused to hire him and Apolo that very morning, and so Roden would gain vengeance by taking his wife to bed.

As the most generous couple in town, they often threw parties to raise funds. He no longer remembered which charity was the focus that night. It hadn’t mattered. Roden had come to take, not give, at this particular party. It only took a hungry look, a careful brush against her wings. She’d followed him out to the orchard.

She was zealous, and he’d had no problem enjoying himself. She was lithe and beautiful and clearly experienced. As he pressed himself against her, he’d felt the injection. “What is this?” he asked as he collapsed to the ground.

He was still fully conscious, yet he lacked motor ability. He could feel but could not move his limbs. As she undressed him, he cursed her through muffled lips. She responded by covering his mouth with tape. It was then he realized how depraved the zealous woman was. She lifted her skirts and straddled him. She’d grabbed onto his wings as she slammed down onto him. He’d always been told that sex was pleasurable. This was anything but, and he tried to will his hands to move, to grab her by the throat and strangle the life from her. Instead, he could do nothing as she violated him over and over.

She redressed when she’d finished with him, and then left him lying on the damp ground as though he was nothing but garbage.

Roden couldn’t even wipe away the tear that had betrayed him.

She’d smiled then. “I’ll always be your first,” she whispered. The soft words contained no sensuality like a lover’s caress. Instead, it was taunting, like a conqueror’s jest.

A lord stepped from the shadows and helped her to her feet. The lord looked down upon Roden as his wife straightened her skirts. At that moment, he realized that he’d been their prey all along. That she’d chosen him, and her husband had orchestrated everything.

The rains had come and gone before he could move his limbs again. As he lay on the cold, wet ground, he thought through how they had tricked him so easily, clearly with experience. When he could, he moved slowly, his body shivering nearly uncontrollably. Ripping the tape from his mouth, he pulled his soaked clothes back on and walked through the woods with dark plans formulating in his mind. That night had been his most valuable lesson. That night, Roden Zyll was born.

Without looking at Gix, he spoke finally and quietly. “Don’t ever drug me again. Never again, do you understand?”

The cutting edge to his voice must’ve been clear because she stuttered in her response. “W-we were o-only tr-trying to help.”

“Gix,” he cautioned.

“Yes, my lord. Never again.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, give me an update.”

“When we heard Hillas had imprisoned you, Wync spread the word as quickly as possible. Everyone supportive to you abandoned the base to set up a temporary base at the backup coordinate and at this rendezvous point while Wync and I went for you.”

“And, please tell me, you took everything you could from the base.”

“Not exactly,” she said, her voice hitching with uncertainty. “The Grand Lord sent attack squads to the base the moment you were taken. Everyone grabbed what they could, but we had to get out of there fast. We have all our ships, but only the weapons and medical supplies we could carry.” She sighed. “He continues to send out search parties but has had no success. The Sephians and humans have the Grand Lord’s base surrounded and are watching his every move. With them restricting his movements, the risk of him finding both this location as well as our interim earthside base is nil. Using force to quell unrest was a strong reminder that Hillas Puftan is no longer fit to lead our people.”

“The Grand Lord is dead.” He swallowed. Hillas is gone and my people are no closer to safety.

Gix looked confused. “My Lord Commander?”

“Hillas Puftan is dead. The Draeken in charge now is his doppelgänger, and he plans to continue the Puftan legacy, even though he carries no Puftan blood in his veins.”

The guardsman gasped. “We must tell our people. Once they know the truth, they will kill the imposter. You are the natural replacement.”

Roden held up a hand. “A day more will not matter. I need time to discover what schemes Otas has initiated over the past two weeks.” Roden paused. “Tell me, has there been news of Hillas’ daughter?”

“I never knew the Grand Lord had surviving children.”

“Answer the question.”

“There has been no news about a daughter,” she said.

Roden’s jaw clenched. While he’d been on his back, Nalea was being tortured and executed.

He turned to the guardsman. “How many have sworn loyalty to me?”

“There’s over a thousand Draeken loyal to you earthside. More are on the core ships, but they can’t get here with Hillas’ stand-down orders. Most are at our new base, a short flight from here. There’re still some imprisoned at the Grand Lord’s—er… I mean, the imposter’s, earthside base. More yet are still in hiding on his base and on the core ships. We’re ready to attack at your command.”

“That’ll be all,” he said, dismissing her. “And quit slouching. Build those back muscles. Your wings will be stronger for it.”

“Yes, sir.” At the door, Gix paused. “The woman you wanted to go back for… was she Hillas’ daughter?”

He cut her a hard look. “It no longer matters.”

Roden waited until Gix scurried from the room before he turned back to watch the autumn trees swaying in the breeze. All he had now was the mission, but their numbers were pitifully few. Without help, they didn’t stand a chance against the full power of the Draeken core ships. There was only one place where he could get the help they needed.

The same place that had orders to kill him on sight…