Slag: Book Four in the Galaxy Pirates Alien Abduction Romance Series (Shifter) Alana Khan (love letters to the dead .txt) 📖

is gripping his cock. He looks me directly in the eyes, his mouth partially open, panting. A’Zul’s green eyes change. They’re the same chartreuse, but now have a vertical black pupil. Dranii’s right there. He’s close enough now I can talk directly to him to pull him out.

I suddenly cover my eyes with both hands and sob, “What am I doing? This isn’t working to distract me from my fear. I can’t do this. I am so scared, A’Zul. Petrified. They are going to kill us. Probably rape me, then torture and kill us both. I am so scared!”

It’s not hard to make the fear sound real, since it is. The tears come and I sob with all the drama I can channel. “A’Zul, we need Dranii, only he can save me,” I wail.

Something changes. I feel it in the air, sense it, before I see anything.

A’Zul’s face changes. It’s so subtle I fear I’m imagining it. At first, it’s just the shape of his jaw, then the color of his skin, then a few iridescent midnight blue scales, then his bulk.

“That’s right, Dranii. Come to me. Save me. I’m begging. Dranii, don’t leave me here to die. I need you to help me.”

I should have known those words would be the final pull. He might be a dragon, incapable of higher thought, but he’s part of A’Zul, and protecting and helping are the two things that make him tick. Of course, his inner dragon would have the same strong desire.

I hear the high whine of the motors engaging at the same time I see A’Zul shimmer and fully shift into his golden Greek God form, then into a dragon.

The animal grows bigger and bigger, it’s eyes never leaving mine.

The dragon can only be described in two words—beautiful and fierce. Dear God, its shimmering cobalt scales are magnificent even in the low light of this crappy brig. Its broad head is bowed to fit under the ceiling. There is a line of increasingly large spines that run from the back of his head all the way down his back then grow smaller to the tip of his enormous tail. Its wings are tucked to its sides, and still one of them almost intrudes into my cell.

He came out for a reason. Butting his head against the bars of my cell, he wants to get to me.

“A’Zul! If you’re still able to hear me, you’ve got to get out of that cell and prevent this ship from taking off.”

I can almost see the internal fight being waged inside the magnificent beast’s head. A’Zul’s sober intelligence asserts itself for a moment, then the animal takes over, swinging its enormous spikey head toward the bars where I’m standing.

“Dranii.” I get his immediate attention. “They’re going to kill me if we don’t get out.”

He shakes his great head, all scales and teeth, and dangerous beauty, now fully on board with the task at hand.

He butts the top of his head against the door to his cell. With each thrust, he presses harder. It dawns on me that the dragon hasn’t been out for years, perhaps a decade. It probably doesn’t remember much, certainly doesn’t know its own strength. Maybe he doesn’t remember how to breathe fire—if he even can.

It turns out the head butting is enough. The door swings open on its hinge, misshapen, and the animal walks through, comes to my cell, and butts my door.

What happens if the animal is so bent on protecting me, that he decides he wants to stay with me and doesn’t get us to the bridge? I have to trust that A’Zul is working as hard on the inside as I am on the outside.

When my door is bashed to smithereens and no longer serves its purpose, I slip into the hallway and point toward the portal, locked of course, that opens to the main portion of the ship.

The dragon approaches the door sideways and flings its tail against the door with such force that the metal shrieks, moans, and then bends enough for him to pry the door from its catch and enter the next hallway.

I have no idea if A’Zul can hear me, and even if he can, if he can convince his dragon form to follow directions, but I say, “We have to kill everyone we see. We have to get to the bridge and keep the ship from leaving the atmosphere. Once we’re out of atmo, we’re dead.”

Someone inside that beautiful terrible head must hear and understand me because he’s running now. I was in the lead, but I’m behind now. From the back, Dranii’s all tail and scales and flicking wings.

He makes short work of the doorway into the bridge, then thrusts his head inside and lets out a sound so loud, so terrifyingly aggressive it paralyzes me for a moment.

I run to follow him when his tail stops me short. It’s horizontal, about three feet off the floor, and flicks at odd intervals. It serves as a roadblock. Even though he’s facing away from me, and seems fully in beast mode, he’s cognizant enough to want to protect me and keep me out of the fray.

And then I hear a sound more blood curdling than my mate’s roar. The sound of lasers. Firing at my A’Zul, my Dranii. His agonized screech tells me they’ve hit him.

“Fire!” I shout. “Use your fire! Now, Dranii!” Dear God, I hope he can breathe fire.

His tail flicks wildly as he lets loose a roar so deep and so loud I have to cover my ears. Then he breathes fire. I hear the sound of it and feel the heat of it a moment later. Males are screaming, screeching in pain. I hear something behind me and see three roaches thundering toward me as they don their hard-shelled combat gear.