Enticed by the Alien Warrior Hope Hart (the giving tree read aloud .TXT) 📖

set aside some time if you would like to negotiate now? I understand if you would prefer to rest after your journey.”

I almost smile at that. This tribe king believes he can taunt me into negotiating with him without a clear head. Little does he know that my father ensured I was trained for exactly this circumstance. Along with almost any circumstance imaginable.

In fact, it is to my benefit if this tribe king believes I am negotiating while tired.

“I’m willing to talk now if you are,” I say, and Rakiz smiles, baring straight white teeth. I show him my own teeth, and Korzyn steps close, hand on his sword.

Rakiz glances at my commander and turns away as if unconcerned, leading us toward his tashiv. But two of the tribe king’s guards fall into step between us and the king, making it clear we are not trusted at Rakiz’s back.

These negotiations are already going well.

While this barbaric camp can’t compare to my own kingdom, the tribe king’s tashiv is large and comfortable.

A fire crackles, removing the chill from the air, and a large pile of wood is stacked neatly next to it. There are two closed doors in the tashiv, likely leading to a bathing room and a sleeping room. An older servant bustles into the room, placing a platter of food on a large table, and Rakiz gestures for me to be seated on one of the low chairs surrounding the table.

Korzyn positions himself behind me while more of Rakiz’s warriors file in, joking with the tribe king and jostling as they help themselves to food before taking their own seats. I left all my advisers behind, unable to trust the people around me enough during these negotiations. Meanwhile, Rakiz is joking with one of his warriors about the male’s mate, taking bets on when his babe will be born.

Is this a negotiation tactic? To make me see exactly what I’m missing in my own kingdom?

Rakiz makes one more low remark, and the other warrior throws his head back and roars with laughter. Then the tribe king focuses on me, taking his seat, his face clearing.

My mood is foul. The brotherhood here reminds me of my father’s court. He hated formality, and the people he kept close were his friends.

At least most of them were.

Unbidden, I can see myself sitting next to my father, learning how to be king—and hoping I would one day be half as worthy to rule as he was. It wasn’t just my father who was killed that day. My father’s best friend was also found dead in another supposed accident elsewhere in the castle, as were three more of his most trusted advisers.

More of them died over the next few years, and while I built my own court, I will never be able to trust them the way Rakiz so obviously trusts his men.

The thought feels like a heavy weight on my shoulders.

Rakiz focuses on me, leaning back in his seat, and I do the same. He holds the upper hand while having these negotiations in his territory, and unless he is an idiot, he will be wondering exactly why I have not brought more of my men here.

“We want access to the marketplace,” he says.

I nod. As I expected. “I want dragon scales.”

Rakiz stills, and low murmurs sound from a few of his men. He glances at one of them, and the warrior nods, leaving the room.

Rakiz returns his attention to my face. “Why?”

“That is none of your concern.”

I won’t trust my own men with this information, let alone this tribe.

“Dragon scales are some of the most valuable goods on this planet.”

“I’m aware. I am also the reason the last dragon on Agron still lives.”

Rakiz nods. “We thank you for your quick action,” he murmurs. “And the berries you used.” From the gleam in his eye, he would also like to get his hands on some cava berries.

Perfect.

I turn my head as the door opens, and Dragix steps inside, his female by his side. Charlie, I believe her name is. She is pale, her face slightly green, and from the fierce look on Dragix’s face, he is unwilling to leave her alone.

Despite the chill that comes from the wind today, the dragon is wearing nothing but a pair of pants, his gold eyes bright as they narrow on my face.

Rakiz explains what I’m looking for, and Dragix shrugs. “Are your warriors not collecting my scales as they fall?”

“I would prefer those that have not been discarded,” I say. I cannot risk anything less.

Charlie narrows her eyes at me. “You want him to pluck his scales from his body and give them to you?”

I smile. “Has Vivian mentioned the many vendors who cross this galaxy to trade in my marketplace?”

Dragix glances at his female, and she frowns. They are likely having one of their silent conversations—a useful ability indeed.

“I don’t want you pulling off your scales,” Charlie says aloud, glowering up at the dragon.

Dragix leans forward, ignoring the many eyes on him, and his hand rises to Charlie’s hair. He carefully selects one single strand and pulls it from her head, holding it up.

“Do you miss this, little two-leg?”

She shakes her head, and he smiles.

“Exactly.”

Rakiz shifts, the languid movement drawing everyone’s attention. “You have already given Vivian and Sarissa access to this marketplace,” he reminds me.

“Yes,” I say. “But they will be leaving Agron.” I ignore the way my hands want to fist at my words. “I am willing to allow you to move within my territory to use this marketplace. A concession I have never made for any other Braxian tribe.”

Rakiz smiles. “You must want these scales fiercely.”

I smile back. “You were the one who came to me to provide help against the Dokhalls.”

The room goes silent at the reminder. The servant squeezes between two large warriors and removes one of the trays of food, replacing it with cooked meat.

“Uh-oh,” Charlie mutters. She strides to the door and opens it, and the sound of