Doom’s clothes were torn to shreds by the metamorphosis. He casually discarded them to the ground.
“Don’t be scared, my darling,” Reaper said in a soft voice while taking flight towards the ship as it landed. “This is simply our battle form.”
My head jerked back towards him, and I gaped at him with bulging eyes. “Our? As in you, too, transform that way?”
He nodded slowly. “But Dragons look more badass than the Xians.”
Although he had said it in a playful tone, I could hear some underlying tension in his voice.
He fears I might be repulsed by him.
I tightened my arms around his neck as he began his approach towards the ship’s ramp that had begun to lower.
“Then, I’ll have to see just how impressive your battle form is,” I said with a smile.
His body relaxed against me, and his smile broadened, although it seemed slightly different. For a reason I couldn’t explain, it reignited the fire in the pit of my stomach. A delectable, spicy scent rose from him. It made my mouth water and fanned the growing flame inside me. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me the way his head leaned forward. My lips parted with a will of their own, and Reaper’s arms around me squeezed me more tightly against his muscular body.
Then the wretched roar of a Zebier snapped us out of that trance where the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Landing on the ramp, Reaper let go of me, caressed my cheek, and took a few steps back. My jaw dropped once more as he kicked off his boots while removing his shirt, and then proceeded to shed his pants as well. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the perfection of his body, even as Martha—Reaper’s Soulcatcher—came running out of the ship, carrying all kinds of weapons and attachments. When he discarded his pants, my brain just froze finding his crotch… empty? There was nothing there, not even some sort of seam indicating his reproductive organ had retracted inside the body. Only smooth scales, although they did bulge.
My shock, disappointment and confusion must have shown as both Reklig and Martha started laughing, earning each a glaring look from Reaper and Madeline.
“Do not fret, little human, your mate is well-endowed. He just hides the goods,” Reklig said in a teasing tone.
“Reklig!” Madeline exclaimed, elbowing him, while Reaper and Martha gasped in shock, and my cheeks felt on the verge of bursting into flames.
“What?” Reklig said with false innocence. “I’m reassuring her! Poor Janelle has probably never heard of a loin plate!”
“What am I ever going to do with you?” Madeline said in a reproving tone.
A predatory grin stretched Reklig’s lips. “I’ll tell you what later,” he replied in a voice full of promise that even I understood the underlying meaning.
It was Madeline’s turn to blush. With her albino skin, she all but turned crimson. However, before she could reply, Reklig took some weapons from Jessica who had come out of the ship as well, then flew towards Doom who was racing with Stran to face the incoming beasts.
Reaper initiated his own transformation. Within seconds, he had taken on a similarly terrifying appearance as Doom, except that instead of scythes growing out of his forearms, it was a pair of razor-sharp lances, and he didn’t grow those frills Doom had as Reaper’s wings occupied that space on his own back.
“See you soon,” Reaper said to me, before taking flight as well.
As I watched him fly away towards the pack of Zebiers, terrible in his battle form, I realized that from the depths of my gentle Reaper, the bringer of death had come out to destroy the fools who would threaten those he cared about. And that was both scary and thrilling. While I stared at him with a possessive pride, it dawned on me that I hadn’t told him how badass he indeed looked. I’d rectify that later.
“Let’s go inside,” Martha said softly, gesturing up the ramp. “It will be safer, and you will see better from the bridge’s display screen.”
I nodded and sent a telepathic message to the Creckels to come to the ship.
9
Reaper
As I flew towards the imminent battle, my thoughts remained locked on my woman. I had feared showing myself to her in my battle form so early after meeting her, especially since it enhanced my Kryptid features. Despite her very natural shock at our monstrous appearance, she hadn’t been repulsed. Even when the trap had set off and the Zebiers had returned, my Janelle had kept a cool head, led the Creckels to safety and helped us disable the trap. My hearts swelled with pride in light of such strength. She was exceeding everything I had hoped for in a mate. And undeniable signs of her attraction for me made me hot and cold all at once.
But, right now, I needed to keep Janelle and her newly freed companions safe. Just as I was about to ask Doom to send the modified Creckels to the ship, they started running towards it. Seeing my mate staring at them coming her way told me she’d actually called them, further deepening my pride in Janelle. However, my initial relief was short-lived as two-thirds of the Creckels started running towards the Zebiers instead.
“Doom. What the fuck are the Creckels doing?” I mind-spoke to him.
“They want to fight,” he replied, his worry almost palpable through our link. “They refuse to sit idle. Stran is talking to them.”
As soon as he finished speaking those words, Doom disconnected from my mind. He lifted his energy shield to block the harpoon tongue of the Zebier leading the pack. At the same time the tip struck his shield, Doom turned sideways and swiped down his scythed blade, chopping off the tongue before the creature could retract it. Its roar of pain abruptly died in its throat as Doom spit a mouth dart into the Zebier’s gaping maw. Choking, the giant beast reared onto its hind legs and batted at its own throat to push out the foreign object. Without missing a beat, our team leader charged his target, slamming his shoulder into its exposed underbelly, knocking the beast onto its back. With a swipe of his forearm’s scythed-blade, Doom all but split the Zebier’s belly open before crunching its windpipe by savagely stomping on its throat.
For a split second, I wondered why he hadn’t used his scorpion tails on the open wound. It then dawned on me that as we wanted to harvest Zebier meat to feed the Creckels, poisoning our prey would defeat that purpose. While not using our venoms would make the battle a little more challenging, I enjoyed a good fight.
Four more Zebiers were closing in on Doom. My neck slightly swelled as I summoned a mouth dart from the sac located at the back of my throat, making sure not to coat it with venom. Diving down towards one of them, I carefully aimed for its left eye, perfectly hitting the mark. The Zebier’s head jerked to the right, and it lost its footing. Carried by its momentum, the beast crashed into a second one, both of them falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
I landed between them, stabbing each of my forearm lances in quick succession in the exposed underbelly of the beast I had blinded as it thrashed on the ground. Halfway through getting back up, its companion shot its harpoon tongue at me. I speared it with my right lance, stopping its grappling tip just inches from my face. Even as the beast attempted to pull me to it, I quickly wrapped its tongue around my lance to prevent it from retracting it. I then flew up a couple of meters, forcing the Zebier to lift its head, exposing its throat. Spinning myself, with my wings spread wide, I angled them so their viciously sharp edges could slice right through flesh and bones, nearly beheading the beast.