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

Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Fivra

Fivra sat on the plush floor in the back of Viparia’s wardrobe. It was a large space, but it was crammed with so much stuff that it felt quite cramped. Gowns of every imaginable hue and texture draped over carved hangers. Their shimmering surfaces caught the soft glow of the lights embedded in the ceiling. Displays of jewels sparkled like miniature galaxies, some nestled in ornate cases, others laid out in cascading trays as if they’d been casually tossed there by a being with far too much wealth to care. Above her, shelves held crystalline cases containing wigs dyed in colors she couldn’t even name, styled in elaborate coils and waves.

The sheer indulgence of the space was overwhelming, suffocating. It was everything her home hadn’t been, and it made her feel small in a way not even the Axis could manage.

“You look like you’re about to bolt.” Viparia’s smooth voice broke the silence as the courtia leaned casually against the doorframe. Her arms crossed between her two lower sets of breasts. Every movement the female made seemed deliberate, languid, as if even standing was an art form she’d long since mastered.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere to bolt to,” Fivra muttered, keeping her gaze fixed on the shimmering hem of a nearby gown. The golden threads curled and coiled like tiny rivers, mesmerizing in their complexity. “Not unless you’ve got a secret escape chute hidden under all this—” she gestured vaguely to the wealth around her, “—stuff.”

Viparia chuckled, a low, throaty sound that somehow was both comforting and intimidating. She stepped fully into the room. The lush carpet muted her heels as she crouched gracefully in front of Fivra. Up close, the courtia’s vibrant green skin seemed to glow softly, amplifying the glint in her golden eyes.

“My dear little farm girl,” Viparia began, the corners of her mouth lifting in a knowing smile, “you are not hiding in here to escape. If I know Cyprian—and I do—you are hiding because he is afraid of losing you. And I am inclined to agree with him.” Her hand darted out, surprisingly gentle as she took hold of Fivra’s chin and tilted her face upward. “So why do you look like you’re the one about to run away?”

Fivra gently retracted from Viparia’s grip. “Because none of this makes any sense,” she said, her voice sharp in contrast to the trembling in her chest. “I don’t belong here. Not in this wardrobe. Not in this station. And certainly not with Cyprian.”

Viparia didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, she rose to her full, towering height and reached casually into a display of hair ornaments. Her fingers played over jewels and combs until she plucked out a delicate clip shaped like a starburst. Idly, she turned it in her hand, letting the light refract off its many facets. “Cyprian thinks otherwise,” Viparia finally said, her tone teasing yet laced with a seriousness that made Fivra glance up, despite herself. “And between you and me, darling, Cyprian is not a male prone to whims.”

“I think I’m a whim,” Fivra countered, hating how small her voice sounded even as she tried to keep her jaw firm. “Or at least…whatever he feels, it’s not real. It can’t be.”

Viparia raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Oh? And why is that?”

Fivra sighed. “Because males like him don’t fall for females like me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m nothing special. I’m just an ordinary farmer who got caught in something I don’t understand. He’s—he’s powerful, confident, and everything I’m not.”

Viparia tilted her head, studying Fivra as if she were an intriguing puzzle. Then, with slow deliberation, she crouched again, leaning just enough to bring their faces level. Her golden eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Oh, my dear, sweet Fivra. How little you understand the heart of a male—especially one like Cyprian.”

Fivra blinked, her gaze dropping self-consciously. “What am I supposed to understand?”

Viparia straightened and began to pace the luxurious wardrobe, trailing a fingertip along the edge of a line of gowns as if choosing her words with the same care someone would choose a gemstone. “Cyprian has been at the helm of this place for longer than most beings in this station have been alive. He’s cunning, calculated, and fierce. But despite all that power, all that…control, I see something in him now that I have never seen before.”

“What?” Fivra asked, her voice softer now, her curiosity piqued.

A sly smile curved Viparia’s lips as she turned to face her fully. “Vulnerability.” She let the word hang in the air for a moment, letting its weight press itself into Fivra’s thoughts. “Do you know how rare it is for a male like Cyprian to expose even the smallest crack in his armor? To admit his emotions—let alone act on them? And for you, no less.” Her gaze dropped to Fivra’s chest with an expression of bafflement. “Your breasts are so very small.”

Fivra flushed, the warmth crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. “He doesn’t act vulnerable,” she said, ignoring the comment about her chest. It was impossible to compare herself to a female with six full, bouncing breasts.

“Of course, he doesn’t,” Viparia said with a breezy laugh. “He’s the director, darling. They have to project strength—it’s part of the job, you know. But you…” She stepped closer, her voice dipping into something almost conspiratorial, “You’ve made him want . Do you have any idea how dangerous that makes you?”

Fivra blinked, caught off guard. “Dangerous?” she echoed, frowning deeply. “I’m not dangerous, Viparia. I’m—”

“—a female who holds sway over a dragon male,” Viparia interrupted smoothly, her eyes sharp. “Don’t underestimate what that means, little one. Cyprian’s fire burns for you. Not for the glittering courtias who surround him, not for the wealth and power he’s worked centuries to secure, but for you . That makes you the most dangerous creature in his world.”

The words settled around Fivra like an unfamiliar cloak—one she wasn’t sure how to wear. She hugged her knees tighter. Her gaze flickered to a display of shimmering tiaras as if they held some answers. She wanted to believe Viparia’s assessment, to take comfort in the idea that someone like Cyprian could care about her deeply and genuinely. But doubts clawed at her. Could it really be true? Or was she somehow misreading everything?

Viparia seemed to sense the confusion in her thoughts. The courtia sighed extravagantly and dropped gracefully onto a plush ottoman beside Fivra, her arms draping over its edges like languid vines. “Fivra, let me be blunt with you. Cyprian could have chosen any courtia in Erovik if it was merely about indulgence or fleeting infatuation. But he hasn’t. And he won’t. He wants you.”

Fivra swallowed hard, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe. “I still don’t get it,” she whispered, her voice laced with vulnerability she hadn’t meant to betray. “Why me?”

Viparia’s expression softened. Her predatory edge receded as warmth seeped into her gaze. “Sometimes, darling, a heart recognizes something it needs before the mind can grasp it. Many, many males have fallen in love with me, so I know what it looks like.” She smirked faintly, leaning closer as she added, “I’ve never been in love myself, but if I had …” She waved a hand. “I would have followed them anywhere. Left this place in a heartbeat and had scads of babies. My species births four to six offspring at a time, you know.”

Fivra, to her credit, kept her gaze on Viparia’s face. “I believe you.”

“Then believe this—when a male like Cyprian chooses, it’s not something done lightly. His heart is a stubborn thing.”

Fivra opened her mouth to reply, but Viparia held up a hand and cocked her head, listening. “They’re coming down the hall.” Her voice turned cool. “Get far back in here and don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

Fivra scrambled to her feet, panic constricting her breath as Viparia’s sharp tone broke through her thoughts. Without a second’s hesitation, she ducked deeper into the wardrobe, weaving her way past swathes of shimmering gowns and elaborate wigs. She wedged herself into a narrow alcove lined with cascading jewels and a startling number of feathered headdresses, her breath shallow as the muted sound of Viparia’s heels faded behind the closed door.

Her pulse thundered in her ears as she crouched low, pulling a satin garment over her legs to conceal any trace of herself. The soft material was hardly armor against her fear, but it was all she had. The darkened enclave of gem-toned fabrics felt suffocating yet oddly protective.

She heard the door to Viparia’s quarters slide open with a gentle hiss, and Fivra’s heart stopped. She was glad she could hear through the layers of gauzy dresses and the wall to her left that divided the wardrobe from the main room of the suite.

“Ah, how bold of the Axis to come knocking without an invitation,” Viparia’s sultry voice cooed, dripping with amusement. “I suppose even the most powerful must lower themselves to bell-ringers from time to time.”

A deep, metallic voice followed, devoid of warmth or mirth. “I am Xryvos, Axis Inspector #449-12S. My entourage and I are here to ensure compliance.” His tone was sharp, like the echo of a blade sliding from its sheath. The distinct sound of boots stepping into the room sent a shiver down Fivra’s spine.

“Compliance?” Viparia purred, the faint creak of leather accompanying her voice as she probably perched herself onto one of her ottomans. Even without seeing her, Fivra could picture every calculated motion, every deliberate flick of her hand. “Such a dull word to bring into a room as vibrant as mine. Shall I pour us a drink to liven it up?”

“Your hospitality,” the inspector said coldly, each syllable clipped and careful, “is unnecessary. I am here to verify reports concerning a recent acquisition from Falmic-5. A Terian female. I require immediate access to all spaces where personnel may be within this facility.”

“Oh, there’s no need to hunt, darling,” Viparia said, her voice blooming with feigned distress. “Tiny thing with pink hair? That female didn’t last long here. She just wasn’t cut out to be a courtia .”

“Are you saying she is no longer here?”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Viparia answered airily. “I haven’t seen the little snip in several cycles. Of course, I haven’t been looking. I’m the most in-demand courtia at Erovik.”

Xryvos sighed impatiently. “Step aside so I may search your quarters.”

“Ah, dear inspector, Erovik is all about discretion. You see, our…esteemed patrons would take grave offense if they thought representatives of the Axis were snooping about their favorite playground. And we wouldn’t want to upset our patrons, would we?”

The silence that followed was thick, tense, but Fivra could practically feel the courtia’s smile radiating through the walls of fabric that concealed her. Viparia was weaving the conversation with the skill of a seasoned courtia , pulling the threads of flirtation and threat into a web that even an Axis inspector would tread carefully through.

“I will not be deterred from my task,” Xryvos finally said, sounding irritated. “If you have nothing to hide, then you will not object to my search.”

“But of course,” Viparia purred, her voice warm. “Shall I start by giving you a tour of my wardrobe, then? Though I must warn you, the sheer opulence of my collection has been known to blind lesser beings.”

In Fivra’s tight hiding spot, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. No, no, no. Viparia couldn’t possibly let them search—not here . She clutched the fabric tighter. The sound of her own breathing was too loud in the suffocating space.

“A wardrobe is hardly—” Xryvos began, only for Viparia to cut him off with a sharp, delighted laugh.

“Oh, please, spare me your dismissiveness. This wardrobe is, in fact, a masterpiece in itself. I cannot allow you to overlook such a defining feature of my quarters. Failing to appreciate it would simply be uncivilized.” Viparia’s voice dripped with faux indignation, underlined by a coy, teasing tone.

A heavy pause followed, during which Fivra could almost sense the inspector’s hesitation. Viparia had masterfully flipped control of the encounter onto herself, and now she was reeling her prey in step by careful step.

“Fine. Show me the wardrobe,” Xryvos relented, sounding annoyed but resigned.

Fivra’s stomach plummeted. She pressed herself as far back as possible. Her body trembled. The jewels and silks that had once been a strange source of comfort now felt like chains, pinning her in place.

“Wonderful,” Viparia purred. “But I must insist on some ground rules. One does not simply barge into a space like this without the proper reverence.” Her tone shifted, as if chastising a child for a minor infraction. “Do try not to touch anything. Many of these pieces are one of a kind and worth a small fortune in credits.”

“I do not have time for this, courtia ,” Xryvos snapped. “Step aside.”

She heard the wardrobe door slide open the sound of heavy boots crossing the threshold. Fivra bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to remain still and silent. Fabric rustled as the inspector began his search.

“All this,” Xryvos said, his voice holding a tone of disbelief, “for one female?”

“Oh, darling,” Viparia crooned, her voice slinking through the air like velvet. “Do you know the lengths one must go to maintain elegance in a world such as ours? Each piece tells a story, Inspector, one you’ll never quite grasp with that dreary uniform of yours.”

“Your point is noted, courtia . But I am not distracted by your…flamboyance.”

“Oh, such a pity,” Viparia replied dryly. “It’s so rare to meet someone immune to my charm. Truly, I’m devastated.”

Fivra could hear the smirk in her voice and, despite her own terror, respected the courtia’s fearlessness. Viparia was buying her time—drawing the inspector’s ire and shifting his focus.

“Inspect quickly,” Viparia continued. “Though I do wonder,” she added after a pause, “what you think to find among my clothing, Inspector? Some unfulfilled longing, perhaps? A need you’ve buried under all that metal and formality? I must say, it’s a tragic waste if you’ve never explored the pleasures Erovik has to offer.”

“Your silence would be a pleasure,” Xryvos barked. “You are walking a dangerous line, courtia .”

“And yet,” Viparia said, her voice low and silky, “you’re still here. Digging through gowns and silks when you clearly have far more pressing matters. Perhaps you enjoy this more than you let on.”

The rustling ceased again, and Fivra felt a trickle of sweat run down her spine. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her body trembled as she strained to hear what would come next. There was an ominous silence, the kind that preceded a storm—or, in this case, an Axis agent’s wrath. Fivra bit her lip so hard she tasted copper.

“This is not a game,” Xryvos snapped. His voice betrayed a gritted restraint, as if it physically pained him to interact with her nonsense any further. “We are hunting for a serious breach of Axis protocol.”

Viparia’s laughter softened into something almost conspiratorial. “Oh, Inspector, that is where you and I differ. Every moment we breathe is a game. The only question is whether you’re clever enough to win it. And right now, dear, I’m afraid you’re not even close.”

Silence followed, and Fivra could practically hear the bubbling frustration emanating from the inspector. For one agonizing moment, she thought he might lose his temper and order the entire wardrobe dismantled. She held her breath, her fingers clutching the soft fabric of the flowing gown draped over her knees.

Then came the sound of muted footfalls moving toward the door. “Very well,” Xryvos said. “I’m satisfied. But if I find even whispers of noncompliance here…”

“If there’s nothing else, Inspector,” she drawled lazily, “do make sure to avoid the crowd on your way out. We wouldn’t want anyone mistaking you for one of our more… curious clients, now would we?”

The growl that followed from Xryvos was indistinct, definitely not professional, and Fivra heard the hiss of Viparia’s door sliding shut behind him. For several agonizing seconds, silence reigned before the sound of Viparia’s heels sounded once again, the rhythm measured and unhurried as if she had not just taunted a representative of the most powerful entity in the quadrant.

Fivra released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her hands unclenched from the fabric she’d been gripping. The sheer audacity Viparia displayed left her stunned, though admiration stirred in her chest.

“Safe to come out, little farmer,” Viparia called in an amused voice. “The big, bad inspector has tucked his tail between his legs and scurried away.”

With a shaking breath, Fivra pushed herself up and stepped carefully out from her hiding spot. She nearly tripped on a flowing cascade of fabric that caught on her ankle, but Viparia steadied her. “Careful now, darling. This isn’t your farm anymore; it’s filled with treasures and trip wires.”

Fivra straightened, blinking up at Viparia with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. “You really handled him,” she breathed, still reeling from nearly being discovered. “I… I don’t think I could have done that.”

Viparia waved a hand dismissively, a sultry smile unfurling on her lips. “Xryvos didn’t scare me. The Axis is good at many things, but they are terrible at charm. You just have to know how to wiggle your way around their authority while wrapping them in silk.” She chuckled lightly. “And, darling, I know endless ways to incapacitate a male if the need arises. He wouldn’t have left here with you.”

Fivra couldn’t help but smile slightly at the confidence radiating from Viparia. It was infectious, rekindling a small spark of hope within her. “The way you handle everything… It’s incredible.”

Viparia stepped back, crossing her arms as she regarded Fivra with a thoughtful expression. “Listen closely, Fivra. I haven’t just navigated these waters for the thrill of it. Many cycles ago, I paid off my contract and decided I’d steer my own course.” She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering as if sharing a deep secret. “I intend to retire on a lush resort moon when I no longer find pleasure in this life. I won’t be dragged down by someone else’s choices—especially not the Axis’.”

“You paid off your contract?” Fivra asked, wary yet intrigued. “But you’re still here.”

“Yes, darling. Once you reach a level of influence and gain sufficient credits, you hold the power. However, it does require determination and skill—qualities I see in you, too, even though you wear them like a cloak you want to cast aside.”

Fivra bit her lip. “I don’t feel powerful. I feel lost.”

Viparia straightened, her expression firming slightly as she grasped Fivra’s hands in hers. “Love has a strange way of breathing new life into a being. Believe it or not, I know this. You’re stronger than you think. Don’t let fear rob you of something that could be breathtaking.”

Fivra’s heart fluttered at the praise. “But I’m just a farmer,” she argued, hearing the words she said, over and over. Just a farmer. She was the only one who seemed to see her as that. “What could I possibly offer someone like him?”

“More than you realize.” Viparia’s grip tightened around Fivra’s hands, golden eyes radiating sincerity. “You bring him something that has been missing in his world for far too long. It’s right there in his eyes when he looks at you.”

As Fivra absorbed Viparia’s words, the warmth seeped into her soul, igniting flickers of bravery she didn’t know she possessed. She was a survivor. She’d endured exhaustion, hunger, hopelessness in a settlement that offered no respite. Perhaps it was time to see herself as something other than a Terian female whose only purpose was work and breeding. “I’ll think about it,” she said, her voice steadier than before.

Viparia smiled, a slow, satisfied grin that glimmered like the jewels draped around them. “Good. Now get back in those dresses until Cyprian tells us they’re gone.”

A sudden thrill of warmth moved through Fivra, enveloping her in an emotion just out of her reach. The courtia’s confidence was inspiring and the realization that she wasn’t alone in this strange and terrifying world meant something. Perhaps she was not just a farmer lost to the winds of life. Maybe she could have more. Maybe she could be more.

With a last squeeze of her hands, Viparia stepped back, her demeanor shifting as she regained her composure, the courtia facade slipping back into place.

“Viparia,” she said, just as the other female turned away.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Thank you.”

Viparia turned, something tender yet mischievous dancing in her golden eyes. “You’re welcome, little Terian. Now, stay out of sight and don’t fret. The Axis will look for you, but they won’t get past Cyprian.” With a flourish, she slipped out of the room.

Fivra took a deep breath, settling back among the sumptuous silks and jewels in the wardrobe. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to let her muscles unwind and her belly to settle. While the path ahead was uncertain at best, tragic at worst, she also had a purpose. And there was a connection to Cyprian that was deeper than she imagined.

“Alright, Fivra,” she murmured to herself. “Let’s see what happens next.”