Page 54 of Crown of Draga

Talking was pointless. Nash wanted retribution for the insult with violence, not pretty words. The two of them danced across the room, attacking and defending faster than the eye could follow. Varan held his own, but he was no match for Nash’s brute strength. The thief was wily and cunning. He put the table between them and his eyes darted for the best defensive position.

Varan was able to hold Nash off, but just barely. Nash could see he was wearing the male down and it would only be a matter of time. With a grin and a roar he smashed both fists down into the table and it cracked down the middle. It was time to end this.

“Hey!” Varan yelled, jumping away from the flying debris. “That’s my property you’re destroying, you behemoth!”

It felt good; better than he had been for weeks. Nash was exhilarated. Adelina was a constant tease and the tension ate at him every damn day. His anger wasn’t welcome among the stoic Dragans and all he wanted to do was yell and roar his anger and indignation, smashing things to bits or fighting every damn person he could like he would at home. But ironically he had no need to be so destructive on Khara Prime. Their daily life was rigged to burn off the aggression that was second nature to his people.

Here on Draga Terra he was so stifled, shoved into a tiny, ill-fitting box.

Varan came at Nash and the two of them crashed together. They fell to the floor and the entire room shuddered as they wrestled and grappled with each other. No matter how strong and heavy Nash was he couldn’t quite get a good grip on the slippery thief to pin him. Varan would yield, he would bare his throat and acknowledge Nash as the more dominant.

“Enough!” Nash finally yelled. His large hands wrapped around Varan’s neck. The thief jabbed his sharp knuckles into Nash’s side. Quick and hard – the punches were incessant and the pain enough to make Nash grit his teeth as he squeezed. Varan’s face started to turn purple, but his punches grew stronger and faster.

He gave the male some grudging respect. Varan may go down, but not without taking his opponent with him. The thief bared his teeth and snarled, even tried to get his teeth around one of Nash’s fingers. Nash moved one knee to pin his face to the floor.

“Yield,” Nash demanded. His breathing was heavy. Varan had been a more challenging opponent than he’d expected and it made him grin with violent pleasure. “You’ve already done better than most in my galaxy, now yield before you lose consciousness.”

Those dark green eyes glared daggers at Nash, but Varan finally tapped his leg and lifted his chin. Nash growled his victory and flicked the thief’s unprotected neck. “You fought well,” he said, sitting back on his haunches.

Sweat dripped from Nash’s hairline and he whipped his hair aside to remove some of the moisture. He ran a hand through the loose strands and grimaced at the movement. Nash’s sides were bruised beyond belief; there may even be a broken rib or two and he’d be sore for days. The spot on his jaw throbbed and he rubbed the tender skin with a rueful smile.

“What is wrong with you?” Varan asked, as he brushed the dust from his pants and stood.

Nash shrugged. “I enjoy a good fight.” The little courtesan had surprised him too. Perhaps Adelina was right and he really knew nothing about her people and what they were capable of behind all their stupid rules and protocol.

“You could have used your tech,” Varan said as he walked to his desk. He opened a drawer and then eyed Nash as he reached for something. “Why didn’t you?”

Nash shrugged and got to his feet. His gaze roamed over the damage he’d done to the thief’s office. “Why didn’t you use your knives?” he retorted, picking up pieces of broken furniture and tossing them into a pile. He really needed to make sure to work out at least twice a day. His aggression had built up too much and whenever that happened objects ended up broken, or people.

Varan rubbed some ointment on his neck, the scent was pungent but not unpleasant. Nash’s nostrils flared as he recognized a hint of jasmine. “Leave it for the servants. You didn’t wreck anything irreplaceable otherwise your eyes would be mine,” the thief said. He tossed the tin to Nash and he caught it out of reflex.

Nash appreciated the medicine in Draga more than he would ever admit. The second he got his kingdom back he would make an official request to trade in intel. His galaxy could use this medicine as natural healers were rare. People still died from infection and sicknesses on his planets.

He peeled the armor from his skin down to his waist with a wince. His ribs were definitely bruised. The sharp smell of the salve was strong as he rubbed it into his skin. It was the first time Nash had shown his bare chest to anyone in the Draga galaxy. The scars wrapped around his entire body, some old and some new. The brands of his people went across his pectorals and banded across his chest and over his biceps. The black marks told a story few on Draga Terra could read let alone understand.

“Holy gods,” Varan breathed. “You have scar tissue.”

Nash raised an eyebrow. “And?” It was a reaction he’d expected, but it still bothered him. He knew the difference between his people and Adelina’s. The Corinthians’ weakness was medical advancements with all their focus on the battle tech and intergalactic travel.

“I’ve never seen scar tissue.” Varan shrugged and it seemed that was the extent of it.

He was grateful Varan kept the matter at that. The thief poured two glasses of alcohol and handed one to Nash. They both sat on the couch, the rest of the furniture ruined around them. Nash tipped back the drink and made a noise of appreciation. He’d needed this.

“If it makes you feel better, the reason I staked a claim last night was because of those rumors,” Varan muttered into his drink. He downed the alcohol in one go. “The princess is a friend and I worry about who Raena may choose for her.”

Nash swallowed the growl he felt rise up at the challenge. The thief was right though, at least with him Nash knew Adelina would be safe and it grated he had to admit that, even if it was only to himself.

“The way she looks at you though, she would choose you, Nash.”

Nash snorted. “The princess is one of the most aggravating females I’ve ever dealt with.”

With a huge sigh Varan slumped and looked up at the ceiling. “They all are, mate.”

Nash chuckled. “Got female problems of your own?”

Varan snorted and reached for the bottle of alcohol. He refilled both their glasses and sipped. “Not really,” he admitted with a shrug. “Nadyah shut me down. The woman has issues I don’t pretend to understand and she won’t let me in. I’m not the begging type.”

Nash was silent as he contemplated, sipping his own drink. The courtesan was complicated and he would never pretend to understand why the Draga galaxy had created courtesans to begin with, but Varan was upset about it.

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