Chosen by the Dragon Alien (Zarux Dragon Brides #2)

Chapter 7

SEVEN

Fivra

The soft glow of the evening lights in Erovik’s huge, grand hall filled the space with a warmth that was both welcoming and disconcerting to Fivra. Its towering ceilings were decorated with swirling patterns of gold and silver. The sounds of laughter and light music wafted through the air. Extravagance was everywhere, from music to the free-flowing drinks, to the dizzying array of food. For her, it all held an air of risk and expectation.

As Ria guided her around the beautifully adorned room, Fivra’s heart pounded. Her palms were tacky with nerves. “Tonight is a special event,” the robotic maid explained, her tone bright despite the tension that coiled in Fivra’s stomach. “We’re hosting a gathering for some of our most esteemed clients. You will not have to entertain anyone specifically, but you will be expected to mingle.”

Fivra knew this. Cyprian had explained it all, but she swallowed hard, unsure whether to feel a spark of excitement or overwhelming dread. “Mingle?” She thought she knew what it meant, but the word felt foreign and unwelcome. A heavy weight that settled like lead in her chest. She’d rather face the specters of the shadowlands than confront the crowd of males who gazed about the stunningly adorned courtias as if they were shopping for a dress. They were of many species—none of which she recognized, but then, her people had been purposefully isolated, thanks to the Axis.

“Yes,” Ria said. “You are a new arrival. Your presence alone will be a point of interest. Just relax and engage in conversation. In time, it will come naturally.”

Fivra nodded, but the confidence she tried to muster was shaky at best. What did she know of “mingling” amongst those accustomed to wealth and frivolity? How could she charm them when it took every bit of courage to just stay in this room instead of bolting back to her suite? “Where is Cyprian?” she asked with a hint of desperation. She didn’t see him anywhere. After the kiss they’d shared, he was the only male she was looking forward to seeing. Had he regretted it?

Probably. He hadn’t told her not to come here, to meet clients, to show herself off. Just the opposite. Maybe the kiss had been a test of sorts, to find out if she had some level of seduction to offer the clients. If that were the case, she supposed she passed. She was here, after all.

“Cyprian is all the way to your right, against the wall, behind the tall client in the white robes,” Ria replied. “Remember, hold yourself as if you know you are the most beautiful female in the room.”

“I’m not the most beautiful female in the room,” she said through gritted teeth, craning her neck to glimpse Cyprian, but it was impossible to see past the large, robed client. All she glimpsed were the sides of his large, dark red wings.

Ria made her digital-sounding laugh. “You underestimate yourself. I guarantee that you are the most beautiful female to someone in this room.”

But not Cyprian. Fivra sighed, wishing she could have a do-over of that kiss. She should have said something more. She could have let him know that she’d liked kissing him, or something to indicate her interest. Even if he rejected her, she’d know where she stood with him.

Lights twinkled above and laughter danced through the air as Fivra struggled to breathe evenly. All around her, elegant beings adorned in sumptuous fabrics moved about, each uniquely exquisite, with soft music playing in the background, weaving through the chatter like a silken thread.

Fivra’s instinct was still to flee, but she pressed her lips together and forced herself to march forward. Her feet took her deeper into this uncharted territory. She could feel the stares of multiple patrons landing on her; some curious, others calculating. They were sizing her up, as if gauging her worth through the stark lens of their wealth and experiences.

“Keep breathing,” Ria whispered beside her, and the gentle reminder provided a small tether amid her spinning thoughts. “You are doing wonderfully.”

Fivra didn’t feel wonderful. “I’m not walking right,” she muttered, smoothing the gold sheath she wore. The hem landed high on her thigh and the straps over her shoulders were thin gold chains, draped to flow and wink in the dim light. “What if I fall in these shoes?” The heels were high and narrow, held on by delicate straps.

“You get up.” Ria’s voice was the only thing that felt real to Fivra. “Here is where I leave you.”

“What?” she said. “No.”

“Yes.” Ria’s light blinked up at her. “I must leave. You are fine, Fivra. I recommend a glass of the ravitok spring wine. It’s light and sweet. Drink nothing that is blue. They are all too strong for you.” With that parting advice, her maid turned and glided swiftly from the hall.

Deciding it was better to move than remain frozen in place, Fivra forced herself to the massive, curving bar where a tall, angular bot turned toward her. “Something to drink?”

“Um. Ravitok spring wine , please.”

The bot nodded and produced a slender glass filled with pale red liquid. She took a sip. It fizzed on her tongue and tasted as Ria had described.

“You look lovely,” said a smooth, female voice.

Fivra turned to see Siku, dressed in a black garment that looked like a ribbon twisted around her stunning figure, barely concealing her. “Thank you.” She took another sip. “This is weird.”

Siku chuckled, deep and sultry. “Being on display? Yes, it is. But it allows us to see what clients we would like to add to our collection, and which ones might be better passed off to another courtia .”

“Collection?” Fivra asked, confused.

“Yes. We think of clients as part of our collections.” She shrugged carelessly as her sharp gaze moved around the room. “And collections grow and change.” Her mouth curved as a tall male with sleek dark scales approached them. “Ah, just in time to illustrate my point,” she murmured for only Fivra to hear.

“Siku, you look ravishing,” said the tall male, bowing his head as Siku lifted hers.

“Thank you, Horian,” she purred, then took Fivra’s hand in hers and lifted it, presenting it to the male. “May I introduce Fivra, a fresh addition to our humble home.”

“It is always a pleasure to see fresh faces at our gatherings,” Horian said and pressed his thin lips to Fivra’s knuckles. “Welcome, Fivra.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Her voice wavered, but got steadier as she found her footing in the interaction. Even as she spoke, the urge to retreat shimmered at the edges of her mind, but she inhaled deeply, willing herself to stand firm.

Horian adjusted his eye-catching collar and leaned toward her. “What brings you here, my dear?”

“Easy, Hor,” Siku chided with a grin. She placed a hand on the male’s chest in a way that looked very familiar. “She’s not available, yet, as I’m sure you know.”

“Just catching her scent,” Horian said, blinking his huge, black eyes and turning to Fivra. “You smell delicious, my dear. Perhaps when you’re ready, you’ll consider allowing me to call on you?”

Fivra’s mind blanked, but before she could stammer out an answer, another client—a rounded male with shimmering blue hair—flitted closer, eyeing her with a wide, toothy grin. “First time at an event like this? You must be a few days fresh, my lovely.” The male leaned forward, excitement dancing in his eyes. “The glimmering lights and delightful company can be quite overwhelming. You’ll find it addictive, I assure you. I am Pimmi, duke of the Yura’lav kingdom on Acur-9.”

A duke? Fivra swallowed hard, her heart racing. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fivra. And yes, I—it’s a lot to take in,” she managed, the words slipping out a touch more stilted than she intended. But as she glanced around the room, catching snippets of laughter and the soft clinking of glasses, she recognized that this interaction was not as terrifying as she had expected. Perhaps there was a way to fit in without entirely losing herself.

“Indeed, little one.” Horian flashed a charming smile. “There are many temptations here. Your beauty will draw attention, even from those who may not have your best interests at heart.”

“Beauty,” she breathed, “was not a thing of value where I came from.”

“It is here,” said Siku. “And you would not be here if you didn’t possess it.” She slid a finger down Fivra’s pink hair, which flowed freely but had gold strands woven in with it.

“Yes! Such radiance is as natural as breathing among our courtias . How refreshing!” Pimmi clutched his hands together as though in delight. “Tell me, Fivra, what is it you desire?”

The question echoed in her mind. It was an odd thing to ask someone shortly upon meeting them, and to be asked by royalty was disorienting to say the least. “I want…”

At that moment, she looked up and finally had a clear view of Cyprian. He stood clear across the hall, a drink in his hand and an inscrutable look on his face. It struck her how he too flaunted his own strength in this world, yet still held mystery—his role as protector uniquely intertwined with her journey. His silver eyes bored into hers, leaving her feeling both grounded and oddly light. Him . I want him. But she didn’t say that. Oh, no. Those words could never fall from her lips. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, trying for a light tone. “Another glass of this, I think.”

They laughed, light and airy, and for the first time during the party, Fivra felt like she said something that was expected of her. Or, at least, not strange. Fivra managed to smile, quietly recalling Cyprian’s words about controlling the prey and trying not to recall the feel of his mouth on hers. Maybe mingling wasn’t solely about charm and seduction; maybe it was more about connection—finding common ground among unique individuals. Her head felt light, and it wasn’t from the wine.

“Well done,” Siku whispered as Pimmi took Fivra’s nearly empty glass and hurried off to fetch her a new one. “Although be careful.” Her gaze slid to Cyprian, making it clear that she’d seen where Fivra had looked. The female was smart and clever and, judging by the amused look on her face, knew very well what had been on Fivra’s mind when asked what she desired. “He is beautiful, our fine director. The ultimate prize. But he will not touch us.”

Fivra didn’t react. At least, she tried very hard not to. Horian wasn’t listening. He had turned to speak with a male who came over to ask him something about business. “I…am not interested in Cyprian.” What a lie , but she knew better than to think anyone could be trusted.

Siku smirked, knowing better but dropping it. “Horian was mine some time ago, but we grew bored with each other. He would be a good client to start with when you’re ready.” She nodded toward the male standing not far away, still engaged in conversation. “He’s gentle, considerate, and his cock is simple. Not too large or uniquely shaped.”

Fivra blinked rapidly, trying to find something to say to that. Thank you didn’t seem like the right thing. She’d never been offered someone else’s lover before. “Um.”

“Here you are, darling,” Pimmi said, returning. He handed the glass to Fivra with a flourish. “What a fabulous party,” he announced to no one in particular, but clapped Horian’s arm as he rejoined the group. “It is always a pleasure to find company with those who revel in the thrill of hedonism.”

Siku inclined her head. “Well said, your grace.” But she turned to Fivra with a look of restrained laughter. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself.”

Fivra felt a familiar presence looming on the fringes of her awareness. She turned her head slightly and her gaze locked with Cyprian’s across the room. His silver eyes were fixed on her with a look of intense focus etched into his features. There was something in his stare that made her skin tingle. A silent claim that sent an unexpected thrill coursing through her veins.

“Indeed,” Pimmi replied, taking another big drink from his glass of blue liquid—the variety that Ria had advised Fivra against trying. “And meeting such an interesting newcomer is truly a treat. Where are you from, darling?”

“I don’t know the name of the planet,” Fivra admitted. “A settlement. Far from here. We were farmers.”

The fluffy-skinned creature jiggled his drink enthusiastically. “How unique! It’s truly fascinating to see a former farmer from an Axis penal colony rise through society and land at a place such as this. I suspect you will be the captivating anomaly we all desire, Fivra.”

Fivra froze. Her smile was plastered to her face as the words rolled through her head.

Penal colony. The clamor of laughter and conversation blurred into a background hum. Fivra forced herself to keep hold of the glass in her hands, but her fingers shook. She looked up at Horian and Pimmi and the words were on her tongue: what penal colony?

But a warning look from Siku made her close her lips. “Excuse me, please,” she said instead, and stepped away. The room tilted, spun. She needed to get out of here. Away from this and out of these cursed shoes. If she didn’t sit down soon, she was going to fall down, and she wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to get up.

A shadow fell over her, and the scent of clean male and wine smashed into her senses. “Fivra.” Cyprian’s deep voice instantly centered her. “What happened?”

She looked up at his strong, gorgeous face. His brows were low and drawn together. His lips were a tense line.

“Did one of them say something to upset you?” A hint of something dark lay in his silver eyes.

“No,” she said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “And yes, but nothing like…” Something clicked into place. “He said I was from a penal colony?” She turned her gaze to Cyprian, bubbling with anger. “Am I?”