Page 47 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

“I will make them pay for this.”

His voice is rough and ragged from the scream. He goes toward the window, folding his wings back. I know he’s going to leap out and fly and then I’ll lose him.

“No!”

I run up and embrace him from behind, pressing my face into his back.

“Don’t go, Varona! We need to get out of the capital, maybe even off-world! This place is about to become a war zone.”

“So be it,” he growls. “If they want war, I will show them the meaning of war.”

“Listen to yourself! You don’t sound like an Ishani at all.”

“So? What of it? The Ishani let this happen. We let it happen, Chloe! No more. I will wipe the infection off the face of our planet with my own two hands if need be.”

I cling to him with the desperation of madness. He drags me across the floor, my feet trailing behind us.

“Stop! This isn’t you, Varona. The man I love is a man of peace, a man of gentleness and wisdom.”

“Look what peace and gentleness have wrought! Our beautiful city burns down around us, and you want to talk about peace?”

Varona grabs my wrists and pulls them away from his body. Tears roll down my cheeks as he pries himself free. I collapse on the floor, a sobbing mess as he steps to the window.

“Don’t leave me, Varona, please.”

He doesn’t even look back as he leaps out the window and spreads his wings. Varona left a trail of his blood behind him. Will he ever come back to me?

And if he does, what will be left of him?

CHAPTER 13

VARONA

My wings spread out like twin shadows of death. Below me, the city is burning, chaotic rioting and full on battles between the Coalition and the Alliance are everywhere.

The first group below me is one such battle. Some have military grade weapons, which they use without discretion. Rage boils inside of me as a Vakutan uses a high powered plasma caster and misses his target, but takes out the entire first floor of an art gallery.

Some of those works date back to the earliest Ishani history. Our past and present are in flames. If I want to douse the future, I must act now.

I don’t bother flaring my wings as I descend. I hit the Vakutan full speed right on top of his head with both feet. We collapse in an ungainly pile, his deadly weapon flying out of his grasp and skittering across the ground.

Legendary Vakutan toughness means he’s still alive, even with a fractured spine. He tears into me with tooth and claw, as he has no other weapon. I respond in kind, raking long strips of his scaled flesh off. Blood flows from both of us, mingling together in a pool on the ground.

I will not let them destroy my home! No matter what it takes.

I get my hands around his throat. The spike protruding from my palm digs into his flesh. He gives up all thought of intelligent defense and grabs my wrist with both hands, struggling to breathe.

Something moves inside of my wrist. It almost feels like a splinter moving around beneath my skin. I flex muscles in my forearm and the feeling subsides, coinciding with a wet gurgling from the Vakutan.

My hand grows wet. I pull away from him, and gape at the protrusion in the middle of my palm. It looks as if a jagged piece of bone has thrust its way out of my skin. What’s happening to me?

“He killed Raomchez!”

I turn to see another Vakutan, this one with yellow scales, staring at me with mounting rage. His fellows are still fighting the Coalition, but his focus is not squarely on me.

“I thought you Ishani were all about peace,” he says, ejecting a spent magazine from his rifle and slamming in a new one.

“You dare speak to me of peace, while waging war on my homeworld?”

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