Draekon Rogue: Exiled to the Prison Planet Read online

  Draekon Rogue

  Exiled to the Prison Planet

  Lee Savino

  Lili Zander

  Copyright © 2018 by Tara Crescent, Lili Zander, Lee Savino.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Many thanks to Miranda for her sharp eyes.

  Cover Design by Kasmit Covers

  Contents

  Draekon Rogue

  The Dragons in Exile Series

  1. Bryce

  2. Hurux

  3. Cax

  4. Bryce

  5. Hurux

  6. Bryce

  7. Cax

  8. Hurux

  9. Bryce

  10. Bryce

  11. Cax

  12. Bryce

  13. Bryce

  14. Hurux

  15. Bryce

  16. Cax

  17. Bryce

  18. Cax

  19. Bryce

  20. Hurux

  21. Cax

  22. Bryce

  23. Hurux

  24. Bryce

  25. Cax

  26. Bryce

  27. Bryce

  28. Cax

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Glossary: The Dsar Cliff Inhabitants

  Glossary: Who’s who among the Zorahn

  About the Authors

  Books by Lili Zander

  Books by Lee Savino

  Draekon Rogue

  I'm caught between two alien warriors, sworn enemies intent on destroying each other. The one thing they agree on: I’m their mate.

  The prison planet is a dumpster fire. War is coming.

  The Draekons are on high-alert. I’m freaking out. The Zorahn soldiers are looking for the nine human women that crash-landed on the prison planet, and whether we like it or not, they intend to send us back home.

  Then I get captured by two hot hunky alien warriors…

  Cax, leader of the fabled lost city of the Draekons.

  Hurux, the commander who wants to send me back to Earth.

  And they’re my new mates.

  This isn’t a fairy tale romance. This is a disaster.

  Draekon Rogue is the seventh book in the Dragons in Exile series. It’s a full-length, standalone science fiction dragon-shifter MFM menage romance story featuring a very spunky human, and two sexy aliens who try their hardest to resist her. No M/M) Happily-ever-after guaranteed!

  The Dragons in Exile Series

  Are you all caught up with the Draekons? Don’t miss any of the books.

  Draekon Mate - Viola’s story

  Draekon Fire - Harper’s story

  Draekon Heart - Ryanna’s story

  Draekon Abduction - Olivia’s story

  Draekon Destiny - Felicity’s story

  Daughter of Draekons - Harper’s birth story

  Draekon Fever - Sofia’s story

  Draekon Rogue - Bryce’s story

  Draekon Holiday - coming soon!

  Subscribe to Lili Zander’s mailing list and be the first to find out when new Draekon books are released! As a special thank-you, subscribers will receive a free Draekon Mate bonus scene, guaranteed to steam up your e-reader!

  1

  Bryce

  Dear Diary,

  I’m about to do something pretty damn stupid.

  Fluffy is missing. Viola thinks she saw her last night sleeping near the greenhouse doors, one eye half-open, ever hopeful that someone would wander by and let her in. “But I can’t be sure,” she adds. “I was busy hurling my brains out. Morning sickness my ass. I’m sick twenty-four hours a day.”

  It’s oddly refreshing to hear Viola talk about something as normal as puke. For the past week, the only topic of conversation has been the Zoraken outside our mountain home, and the mysterious shield that prevents them from entering, and as a fun side-effect, prevents us from leaving.

  War is on our doorstep, and we’re trapped.

  The shield seems to interfere with the communicator.

  The Draekons are on high-alert. The women are freaking out. It’s clear by now that the soldiers are not only looking for Raiht’vi, they’re also looking for us. The nine human women that crash-landed on the prison planet.

  Six months ago, if you’d told us that the possibility of rescue was imminent, we’d have cheered from the rooftops.

  Six months later, things are very, very, different.

  Eight of us have Draekon mates. Two guys for every girl, in fact, because that’s Draekon biology for you. Or is it physiology? Don’t ask me, I’m not a science major.

  Two of us are pregnant. Felicity’s about to give birth any minute now, judging from the size of her belly—I’ve seen smaller whales off the coast of Maine. And Harper’s already given birth to an adorable baby girl, Kaida.

  (You’re probably doing the math right now and wondering how she could have already popped one out if we’ve only been here for six months. Evidently, Draekon babies come quick.)

  Guess who the only person without mates is? Me. Yup. On a planet filled with men—almost fifty of them—everyone’s managed to find a pair of partners.

  Except me.

  Not going to be bitter about that.

  Even though I knew that there would be no electricity in space, I brought my laptop along for the journey to Zoraht. (I was teaching myself to knit, and I had thirteen tabs open on my browser, all pointing to Ravelry.) I can keep track of Earth time, sort of, as long as my battery doesn’t run out of juice.

  Today’s the one-year anniversary of my brother’s death.

  Look at you, trying to couch that in passive voice. Let’s be brutally honest here, Bryce. You killed Liam. You might not have forced him to take the pills, but you did everything else.

  For weeks, I’ve been trying to distract myself with Energizer-bunny level activity.

  Brewing beer? Check.

  Helping Ryanna make fruitcake with alien fruit and syn-made flour? Check.

  Going on two disastrous dates with Draekons who were painfully disappointed when no mating magic happened? Check.

  Salting fish? Feeding Kaida? Taking over Viola’s greenhouse chores? Check, check, and check.

  Nothing has worked. Time ticks on, uncaring.

  I could drink myself through today. I could drink glass after glass of kunnr wine, and sink into blissful numbness. But booze is an abyss, and I know it. Kunnr wine isn’t the answer.

  Fluffy McCutie hugs, on the other hand, might be the kind of warm comfort I need.

  You know, because I don’t have a mate.

  Not that I’m bitter or anything. Really.

  Maybe the Draekons can instinctively sense the ugliness inside. The same ugliness that kept you from helping Liam. For arguing with him about rehab instead of being there for him. Being a loving, supportive presence in his life.

  Guilt and self-loathing are familiar presences. I push them away to the background. Right now, Fluffy needs me.

  I think my pet escaped. There’s a weak spot in the shield, in one of the ventilation tunnels near the greenhouses. Everywhere else, the shield feels like a solid wall, and pushing through it is impossible. But in that one, hidden, spot, if you try hard enough, you can get through.

  My damn karvil really hates being trapped. She misses the great outdoors. She misses the warmth of the sun on her fur. The smell of fresh air, free of pollution. She misses grazing in her favorite fields.

  I caught Fluffy trying to get out two days ago. Crawling into the shaft, I’d pulled her out, sucking in my stomach to fit, and muttering curses under my breath at the tight squeeze. Then I’d told Arax about the vulnerability, and he’d assigned guards around the clock near that tunnel, even though the odds of the Zoraken finding the one weak spot in our defenses are low.

  What my pet doesn’t realize? The great outdoors, especially on the prison planet, is a pretty dangerous place. The terrifying dwals—about the size of a pony, and raptor-smart—are one of many predators here. There’s also the swarms of hairus at night. The ahuma’s bite is venomous. Herds of argangana could trample her.

  On a different day, I might be sensible, but today? Today, my chest is tight, and my eyes are itchy with remembered tears. Today, I can’t leave my orange fluff ball to fend for herself.

  Today, I’m going to find my goddamn pet.

  Bryce.

  I put the book away in a drawer. It had been a therapist who’d suggested keeping the diary. “You might find it helpful,” he’d said.

  It’s not particularly helpful. Some people find journaling cathartic. Not me. It’s just a habit, that’s all. Something to do. It’s not like there’s Netflix on the prison planet, and unlike the other women, I can’t use sex to pass the time. No threesomes for me. Not when every Draekon is desperate to find their mate.

  Cock-blocked by biology. Or rather, twat-blocked.

  The Draekons aren’t going to come looking for me. A few days ago, Rorix and Ferix, in the grip
of the mating fever, had walked out of camp, and the Draekons hadn’t chased after them. They’d accepted their decision. It had been Sofia, Rorix and Ferix’s mate, who’d gone to find them, accompanied by Dariux.

  I don’t have a mate. Nobody’s going to risk their life to come in pursuit.

  Not that what I’m doing is dangerous.

  Okay, it’s a little dangerous.

  Fluffy is a creature of habit. I know where she grazes. Dariux’s skimmer is, fortunately for me, outside the Dsar Cliffs, stashed in a cave at the base of the mountain. Before he left with Sofia, he’d been sneaking out too, looking for Raiht’vi. “She’s a friend from childhood,” he’d said when I’d asked him about his search. “I can’t bear to think of her, alone and lost.” His lips had twisted. “Of course, she’s betrothed to Lenox now. Our past is old history.”

  It didn’t sound like old history, but hey, if Dariux wanted to lie to himself, who was I to stop him? I’m an expert at burying my head in the sand myself.

  Hopefully, Dariux found Raiht’vi.

  Hopefully, Sofia found Rorix and Ferix.

  Hopefully, they’re all okay. Safe and unharmed.

  Hopefully, they’re not prisoners of the Zoraken.

  Hopefully, I’m not walking into a trap.

  Of course you’re not, I tell myself, forcing a note of cheer into my voice. If all goes well, it’ll take you less than an hour to find Fluffy. You’ll be back before anyone even notices that you’re gone.

  As I’m giving myself a pep-talk, I’m also packing. Tent. Bed-roll. Supplies. Hairus-repelling paste. All of that goes into a crude pack.

  Liam thought I was impulsive. You always act before you think, he’d scold me. I can’t always be there to pick up the pieces, Bryce.

  It’s so vivid, the memory of him saying that to me. I’d been sixteen. My friend Jyoti and I had gone to a house-party on the outskirts of town with a couple of guys we’d just met. One of the guys—Brad Kettle—had tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I’d kicked him in the groin and jumped out of the car, and I’d called Liam for a ride back home.

  He’d rescued me, of course. And then he’d proceeded to give me the older brother lecture all the way back home.

  He was my big brother. The person who groaned at all my corny jokes yet tried to top them with even worse ones. He was my rock.

  And now he’s gone.

  I blink away the tears. It’s been a year, but the wound is as raw as ever. Today of all days, I can’t let myself dwell. Swinging the pack on my shoulder, I head toward the karvil-bait tunnel.

  Haldax, my least-favorite Draekon, is standing guard. He frowns when he sees my pack. “What are you doing, Bryce MacFarland?”

  “Going after Fluffy,” I reply, giving Haldax a cheerful smile. “I think she got out through the ventilation pipe.”

  Haldax doesn’t hate us humans, but he definitely sees us as lesser. It’s not personal; he’s obsessed with blood status, and anyone who isn’t Highborn is inferior. He’s fun company, Haldax. Not. “Does the Firstborn know?”

  “Sure,” I lie shamelessly. “Would I leave without telling Arax?”

  Yes, of course I would. I like Arax—he’s a bit serious for my tastes, but he’s not a bad sort. But come on, I’m not a child. I refuse to ask for permission to leave.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “You could ask him,” I suggest. “Of course, he’s been up all night, watching his mate puke her brains out. He’s probably tired and cranky and freaking out. I’m sure he’ll love to know why you’re bothering him with trivial stuff.”

  Haldax wavers, and then yields. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Too late, buddy. Too damn late. I’m already wriggling my way outside.

  Fluffy McCutie, here I come.

  2

  Hurux

  What a disaster.

  A week after the dragons lay waste to our camp, we’re finally back to some semblance of order.

  If we can call it that. One of the Adrashian ships has been damaged beyond repair. How the Adrashian Federation is going to view the damage of their property, I have no idea. For the moment, I have more pressing concerns.

  The soldiers assigned to this mission are not from my company. These Zoraken resemble hardened criminals more than trained Zoraken.

  Ten of them are missing. Undoubtedly, they’re off in search of Sofia Menendez, attracted by the massive bounty on her head.

  When we get back home—if we get back home—I intend to see that they’re court-martialed and thrown out of the Navy for disobeying a direct order.

  The other forty are still loyal to me. Thirty-two of them are patrolling the mountain inside which the human women have taken shelter. The remaining eight watch the Adrashian ships. We can’t risk anything happening to them; they’re our only way out of here.

  I reach, by habit, for my tin of kesvet cookies, but it’s empty. Bast.

  The cookies are an indulgence. My mother bakes the sweet crisps herself; she’s been making them for me all my life. One of my earliest childhood memories is of my father being dragged away by soldiers. I’d sobbed and tried to cling to him, and my mother had pulled me away, her face pale. Two days later, she baked the cookies for the first time.

  The maternal display is unlike her, and maybe that infuses the treats with more flavor in my eyes. Every month, she sends me a full tin, no matter where I’m deployed, no matter where I am.

  Except this time.

  This assignment had finalized in the last minute. A shipment of cookies had been on their way, my mother had assured me, but I had couldn’t wait for them, of course.

  She’d seemed upset about the sudden deployment, more worried than usual. So much so that I’d lied about the cookies, telling her they’d already reached me.

  Why are you thinking about cookies?

  I know why, of course. It’s because I’m avoiding thinking about the disquieting conversation I had with Dariux three days ago.

  A knock on the door jerks me from my thoughts. Nardox comes in. “Commander Hurux,” he says, saluting me crisply. “We’ve run into a problem, Sir. Our communicators aren’t working. We can’t talk to central command. We’re even having issues with surface-to-surface comms.”

  That’s not good. “Did the dragons damage our equipment?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Sir. It’s almost as if someone’s blocking our signal.”

  Someone. But who?

  You know who, a voice inside me whispers. You heard Dariux’s transmission. The Lost City of the Draekons.

  “What about the mountain shield? Have we broken through?”

  Once again, Nardox shakes his head. “We’ve been concentrating all our firepower at it, but it still holds. Worse, it’s absorbing the energy we’re pouring into it, and it’s getting stronger.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  A shield that can’t be penetrated. Jammed communicators. All the evidence points to advanced tech.

  I push aside my curiosity. As much as I’m intrigued by the idea of a hidden civilization that has flourished on the prison planet, my mission is clear. Find Raiht’vi. Retrieve the human women. “Tell the soldiers to keep at it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Once he’s gone, my thoughts return, against my will, to my former mentor.

  Once upon a time, I’d been a spy. I’d enjoyed the machinations, the intrigue, the ability to trade wits with the best and the brightest of the Empire. And none had been more talented than Dariux, one of Surax’s three assistants.