Page 8 of Fated to the Dragon Warlord

I need a bargaining chip, and the escape pod might just be it. She belongs to me, regardless of what she might say. And, as a traveller on the ship Dante has consigned to the ether, she might have some information I can use.

But in case she needs any convincing, I prefer to have something I can use. I didn’t become the warlord of my clan by accident of birth. As is our way, I fought to get to the top. I bested all my peers, and here on Vorostor, I’ve bested all the warlords save for Dalox.

He fights dirty and I value my cock.

Speaking of which, the nevving thing hasn’t stopped pushing at my pouch since I got back on board the ship. It aches and throbs in time to the itching of my skin. I need a good aquium and some time alone, neither of which I’m likely to get.

Especially as I have to go kill Dante and severely maim the other warlords for nevving up my plan, one which might have resulted in the ability for us to get the nev out of this galaxy and back to our own.

Perhaps I need a distraction, and taming the little ball of flame in my quarters will be perfection.

KERRA

The chain attached to the wall seems to have an ability to stretch, which allows me to roam around the room Darax shoved me into.

It’s clearly a bedroom. There’s a large circular depression in the floor filled with tangled blankets in jewel tones. The rest of the room has little to indicate if this is Darax’s or not. Understandably for a space ship, there are no pictures on the walls, but there’s also little in the way of storage I can see.

The single small unit which juts out from the bulkhead is locked and on it sits an odd, abstract sculpture. I lift it up. It has some heft to it. Possibly not enough to drop an enormous Sarkarnii, but I’ll bear it in mind.

The ship rocks from side to side, not quite unbalancing me, but enough for me to know the other ship has exploded and we were close enough to feel the blast.

I really, really hope Rosalie got out in the escape pod.

As I pass by the wall on the other side of the depression, a hidden door slides open, and I find it’s a bathroom.

And what a bathroom! There’s a deep bath, filled with water and clearly large enough to take Darax. The rest of the sanitaryfittings are similar to those I saw on the other ship, albeit these ones are significantly cleaner.

Seeing the facilities gives me an idea. The stretch chain allows me enough room to be able to enter, and I find what I’m looking for. It’s a gel which Rosalie and I worked out was a type of soap. I slather it on my wrist and gently pull.

The cuff gives a little. I have to hope it doesn’t expand and contract like the chain or I certainly won’t get it off. I move it slowly and carefully before it finally slides free.

“Yes!” I cheer myself on.

“Clever little female,” a voice growls behind me.

I flinch violently, spinning to face Darax.

Has he got bigger? That can’t be possible, can it? He was already far too tall, far too wide and far too muscled.

“How…how long have you been there?”

“Long enough to watch you work.” He releases a mouth full of smoke with a sinful half smile, his gaze going to my wrist, dripping with goo. “Impressive.”

“Glad you think so.” I throw my shoulders back. “Maybe you’ll think twice about chaining me up next time.”

“Not at all. In fact, I look forward to it.”

Unable to stop the squeak which escapes me, I jump to one side as he closes the gap between us. I doubt I can get out of the reach of his claws, but I’m going to try.

But Darax doesn’t make any attempt to get hold of me. Instead, he strides past and into the bathroom, divesting himself of his laser rifle, a leather pouch, and his boots.

“Woah! Don’t mind me!” I quickly back out of the bathroom and hold up my hand to my eyes as he shoves his pants down, giving me a view of his muscular, scaly bottom.

It’s a good behind, as far as they go. Pretty mesmerizing.

“I don’t.” Darax turns to face me, hands on his hips.

This time the squeak I release is significantly louder as I get a full frontal view of…

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