The evil Dracoth shrugs with disgusting indifference. “That’s everything,” he gestures to my ruined clothes.
Of course! Of course, it’s my fault. It’s always my fault. Not just my purse, but my cell phone and wallet are gone as well. I shouldn’t be surprised; nothing ever goes my way. I mean, look at this situation now. How could the universe be so cruel? It’s all too much, even for me. The familiar pit of despair surges from the emptiness in my heart that I can never fill, always waiting, always lurking. It finds me now, swallowing me whole.
Uncontrollable sobs shake my entire body as I curl into a weeping ball.
“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, young Dracoth,” Demon Egg-Head chimes in to mock. Slasher Dracoth plucks me from the floor with surprising gentleness, but I know what he’s really like—the horror he’s inflicted. I could fight and struggle, but what’s the use? Only anguish and whatever terror they have planned awaits me on this horrible hobo ship.
“This isn’t really going very well, now is it,” Demon Egg-Head comments, his voice growing distant.
Dracoth sighs as my wailing intensifies. “I tire of this,” he says, echoing a portion of my thoughts—I tire of life.
My tormenter cradles me like I cradle my torn Chanel suit, my tears soaking the fabric. His long strides ring out, and the blazing heat of his body grows uncomfortable. I’d complain, but then I’d have to stop crying.
The cell bars crash down, but I’m only vaguely aware of it, lost to the blackness oozing from my heart. I feel the cold hard metal floor cooling my bare skin, shockingly unpleasant compared to the alien’s radiant heat.
Dracoth the monster leaves with haste, offering no words, no glances—nothing. Just the cell bars slamming closed, leaving us four women to ponder with downcast faces what comes next.
“Pink suits you,Princesa,” Carmen mocks.
Fuck my life.
Chapter 7
Dracoth
Too soft
Twodayshavepassedsince we left Earth—a waste of time that makes my blood boil. I should have trusted my instincts and headed to Argon Six to assume control over myMagaxuswarriors, not pursue this farce. But I let that old fool Ignixis pour poison into my ear. Stupid to trust the words of a coward, even if he was once an Elder. In hindsight, it’s obvious; he sought the coward’s path, away from battle, away from glorious war against the Nebians.
I stand simmering with rage in the command center, staring out at the twinkling stars roaring past in a blur. Colorful nebulas dance, and sparkling space dust catches the glare of multi-hued stars. It’s beautiful—the vast, endless possibilities the universeholds. Icy cold, it freezes and rejects the weak, but I burn molten, like a supernova.
“Keth. Switch hyperspeed course to Argon Six,” I command, my tone hard as my homeland Scarn, glaring out the viewport.
The black-haired warrior obeys without question, his hands darting over the blue glowing navigational controls. Another advantage of the strange mental illness that affects the other young warriors—they do not question. My Scythian Battlebarge movement is almost imperceivable as the ship tilts toward the new trajectory.
Ignixis will learn of my plans soon enough. I can already picture his sneering face and endless rants. The oldgas-cloudhas wasted too much of my time. I should abandon him on Klendathor to face rightful punishment for his cowardice, only that would delay me further. I clench my fists in an effort to contain my rage. We’d only be a week away from Argon Six if not for this foolish detour—now I must wait nearly three weeks.
So much could change in that time. The thought stokes my Rush as crimson fury leaks from my eyes. Traitor Krogoth could arrive and bend the warriors to his will, or another may rise to assume control of my ClanMagaxusin my absence. But here I am, stuck on the other end of the galaxy, chasing lies.
And what do I have to show for it? Four human females—three as dainty and feeble as newly hatchedpuffrios, the other a rabid, spittinghydralith. Nothing but endless tears and sneers. It’s maddening. If I could drop them off at a nearby planet, I would do it in a blazing heartbeat. Their weakness sickens me. I feel infected by it. Infested with feelings of regret and concern that threaten to invade my mind, shattering my resolve.
I won’t allow it.
I stride to the viewport, watching the universe streak by in blazing trails of light—a brilliant, shifting mosaic that does little to distract me from my irritation. I have provided the femaleswith food, comforted them with furs, and answered their questions amid their pathetic weeping. Yet nothing satisfies them. Every avenue always leads to the same response—‘I want to go home,’ followed by their ball-shaped wailing. Even I know crying, much as it irks and haunts me to admit. But I reforged that pain into molten fury, twisting it into something useful—an insatiable lust for vengeance.
Why can’t they?
If none of these females are capable of the same, how could they ever be my suitable mate? The answer is obvious. It should have always been—They could never be my match. All failures. Even the two who initially showed courage soon fell into despair. Disappointing and pathetic. Just like their human warriors.
I turn to see Keth, absorbed in his work on the glowing blue controls, oblivious and incapable of the storm of emotions that cloud me—I almost envy him.
All the females offer is their beauty, albeit undersized. A fleeting pleasure to look upon. Like a work of art or a pretty flower, they wilt under the scorching heat I exude. I have no place for useless, pretty things—only the strong may bask in my coming radiance. Ignixis was mistaken. None of these females are my bonded mate. They can’t be, for weakness is an anathema to me.
It is by my will alone that Krogoth will die, then I will reclaim my rightful title.
“What is the meaning of this,boy?” Ignixis’ exasperated voice mingles with the swooshing door. He rushes towards me, his outrage clinging to him like his black robes. My gaze remains steady, fixed on the mesmerizing view of the void.
“I return to the path of glory,” I reply, my voice level, yet my heart simmering with rage.
