“Sir,” he says. “Will they follow us?”
“Yes,” I say. “I am sure of that.”
He nods, frowning. The troubled look on his face makes it obvious he has more to say. I wait, letting him work it out.
“Why did we run, sir?” he asks the real question at last.
“And if we hadn’t?”
“We’d have killed them!” he growls.
“Would we?”
The rest of the group has moved in closer. They’re all listening. This is the question on all of their minds. They are warriors, retreating from a fight goes against every instinct they have.
“Yes, sir!” he replies, emphasizing the sir.
“How many are there with us?”
“Sir?” he asks, looking around at our small group.
“How many survivors, soldier?”
He looks around, doing a count. His scales are tinted with anger, but I see confusion on his face.
“Ten, counting you, sir,” he says at last.
“Ten,” I agree. “Tell me, Mageir, how many soldiers were in the compound during the attack?”
“Twenty-three patrols at least,” he answers.
“Twenty-three patrols, so forty-six warriors.”
“Yes sir,” he says, still not getting it.
“What would have happened had we stayed and fought?” I change directions.
“We’d have destroyed them all,” Vae responds, to which most of the group mutters their agreement.
“The ten of us? Five patrols out of twenty-three?” I ask.
“Yes, sir!” five of the males answer in unison.
“We’d have died,” Pachua and Typhon says in unison. “All of us.”
Silence surrounds us as we continue running blindly into the night. I don’t say any more, let them work it out in their own heads. They’ll come to terms, sooner or later.
The group spreads out again. The sky is brightening, but no one complains of exhaustion. Still, we’re without supplies and we need water as well as rest. I shift our direction towards an oasis that won’t be far out of our way.
Ahead, Pachua and Typhon drop to their bellies on the peak of a dune. As one, the group stops. I crouch and move up to join them. Pachua points a finger and I follow it.
Invader vehicles race across the desert towards the same oasis I was leading us towards. We’ll have to avoid it, but I’m sure we can make the City without water. I rise and turn to instruct the group when suddenly it feels as if there is a weight on my back making it too hard to breathe.
I whirl around and look again. The machines have come to a stop. The Invaders run across the desert, chasing… no.
I spread my wings and leap into motion. I hit the sand running, pulling the lochaber off of my back.
I lose sight of them at the bottom of the dune, but nothing can slow me down. She’s there. She’s in trouble. I will myself to run faster. My muscles are burning, but the power of the dragon’s raging fire swirls through my veins.
Every step I take, I leap ahead. Faster!
Dimly I hear the rest of the group rushing to catch me, but there’s no time. I must save her. Cresting the final dune, I see her form. An Invader has her. I can’t make out her face in the early dawn light. But it’s her.
A dozen Invaders form a semi-circle to either side of the one holding her and are marching towards the oasis. There must be more humans hiding in there.
My legs and arms pumping, a fresh burst of energy thrills through my muscles. I whirl the lochaber, and it screams a challenge as it slices the air, hungry for Invader flesh. A hot breeze blows from behind and I leap. I snap my wings wide, angle them to catch the wind, gliding faster than I can run.
She fights the Invader. She’s like a wild animal, captured but not beaten. My chest swells with so much pride and love, it hurts. My dragon howls, and I can’t contain its voice.
“TO ME!” I scream in a full-throated roar.
The Invader holding my mate whirls around. She flops violently in his grip. Red hazes my vision that he handles her in such a reckless manner. He will pay.
I slam to the ground a tail’s length before him. There is no hesitation, no pause—I attack. He throws my mate to one side, and two clubs and a blade whirl in a now-familiar pattern. I jab, trying to thrust my way past his defense.
The two clubs slam against my lochaber. Numbing vibrations race up my arms. I shift my hands to keep my grip at the same time I swing my tail low. He leaps up and over.
I jerk the lochaber’s blade back then stab forward. He blocks with the sword because the clubs are out of position, but I surprise him. I tilt my body down and drive the top of my head into his face. My horns gouge flesh as the soft bones of his nose and jaw smash.
His blood spews, blocking my vision in one eye, but he’s stumbling back dropping his weapons. I finish him with the lochaber.
The rest of my brethren arrive and engage the others. Wiping furiously at my eyes, I race to my mate, skidding to a stop on my knees next to her.
My hands tremble as I reach towards her. The dragon’s rumbling assures me she is the one. The one I’ve sought so long. The emptiness aching in my soul hungers, ready to welcome her. She’s lying limp on the ground but emits a low groan. One hand rises to her forehead.
She is so perfect. It hurts to look at her. My stomach knots and I can’t catch my breath. It’s as if I’ve taken a hit to the solar plexus. My fingers are inches from her beautiful, soft skin, but I can’t force them closer. I don’t dare touch her, lest she disappear in a puff of smoke, for surely, she is a dream.
She is an angel from the stars. The embodiment of Tajss herself given form as an exotic, strangely erotic alien. Her hair covers most of her face, so it’s hard to decipher its color in the dim light, but her hair appears to be a deep rich brown.
Swallowing hard, I force my hand to move, pushing past my frozen state, but before I touch her, she stirs, and I stop again. Her hand touching her head pushes aside her hair. Bright, intelligent eyes flash hotly, and then in an instant she rolls over.
“Ah!” she cries out, scrabbling away.
“It is okay,” I say. “We have saved you.”
She shakes her head from side to side, but she stops retreating. I hold myself still as stone, letting her realize she is safe. It will only take a moment, I’m sure. She was assaulted, handled roughly, so she is scared, and I do not blame her. She does not have to worry now though. I will not allow any male to touch her in such a way again.
“Who…” she says, stopping to wipe a trickle of blood from her forehead. “are you?”
She has a round face. More round than most of the human females I’ve seen, it is an almost perfect oval. Her nose is tiny, perfect on her, though it is slightly humped as if it has been broken before. I commit every stunning line to memory.
“I am Khabri,” I say. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Us?” she asks, looking around.
When her brow furrows her delicate eyebrows pinch together and a tiny wrinkle forms between them. Her lips are full and plush, trembling. I desperately want to kiss them.
“Not us,” I correct her gently. “You.”
“Me?” she shakes her head and shifts to a full sitting position.
The last of the Invaders meets his end with a raucous scream and silence falls. Pachua and Typhon walk over, and my mate moves further back, staring at them. I hold up my hand, stopping their approach.