Chapter 11
Mercy needed space. And time.
And about a thousand shots of liquor.
Saffron Court was about as far from her life as she could imagine.
The decadence pressed against her skin like an ill-fitting suit, making her hyperaware of every scuff on her boots, every burn on her fingers.
Sure, she'd taken vacations before. She'd even dropped passengers at places like this a time or two.
But staying at a place like this as a guest?
She felt like someone was going to figure out she didn't belong and throw her out if she held her drink the wrong way.
Zane didn't have that problem. He'd set himself up by one of the luxury pools, fruity drink in hand, and let himself soak up the sun like this was a vacation and they weren't on the run from a horde of angry pirates.
Her skin was vibrating with worry, and she needed to move.
She wasn't sure if they were in the desert or at the beach.
Possibly both. The resort had transformed the landscape into something otherworldly, where sand dunes met clear blue water in defiance of natural geography.
Water lapped at the edge of the resort, and Mercy walked along, letting the sand squish between her toes.
If she could just live here for about a thousand years, she might be able to relax.
But how much did this place cost? Zane was on a first-name basis with Myles Judd, who was the head of security of all things.
He'd been little more than hired muscle for a freight hauler when she'd known him a decade ago.
But he didn't cheat at cards, and he'd had her back in more than one shady situation.
But it was hard to imagine him in charge of things. He'd been more of a shooter than a thinker when she knew him, with a pile of debt to their shared captain unlikely to ever be paid off.
If this was the kind of place that a dragon lord went to frequently, it had to be so far out of her price range that she wouldn't even look at it as a joke.
As far as she could tell, Saffron Court owned a large chunk of this planet, maybe the entire thing. There weren't many people around, and those she saw were clearly either guests or staff. All the buildings seemed to be part of the resort, and there wasn't much air traffic.
Under regular circumstances, she couldn't even afford a night.
How could she let Zane pay for this?
Her lips tingled in memory of that kiss.
The ghost of his mouth on hers made her stumble slightly in the sand.
She could still taste him, could still feel the desperate press of his body against hers in that cramped shuttle cockpit.
The sounds he'd made when she'd nipped at his lip, low and rumbling like distant thunder.
She'd wanted to climb into his lap, to forget about pirates and danger and destroyed ships in the most basic way possible. Had wanted it so badly she'd ached with it, every nerve ending screaming for more contact, more heat, more of him.
But she'd pulled back. Because that's what she did. That's what kept her safe.
Except nothing about Zane felt safe. He burned through her defenses like dragon fire through wood, leaving her exposed and wanting things she couldn't afford to want.
Wanting a client had never been an issue before. Usually she hauled cargo, but the few passengers she took on had always remained respectfully professional.
Zane blew past all that without even trying.
And she had no idea who he really was.
Spoiled lord?
Dangerous dragon?
Commitment-phobe?
Maybe all of that. His plan to avoid an unwanted engagement sounded ridiculous, and she had no idea why he couldn't just talk to his family about his wants and needs.
Then again, she was walking away from the resort as far and fast as she could to avoid speaking to him, so who was she to say anything?
The water was warmer than she expected, lapping at her ankles with gentle insistence. She found a spot where smooth rock jutted out from the sand, creating a natural seat, and settled down to watch the horizon.
She dug her toes deeper into the sand. This was real, at least. The grit between her toes, the heat on her shoulders, the ache in her chest that had nothing to do with her recent injuries.
In the distance, she heard the whine of a speeder engine. Common enough at a resort like this. Rich guests needed their toys. She tracked the sound absently, a pilot's habit of monitoring her surroundings, but thought nothing of it until the pitch changed. Growing louder and closer.
Much closer.
Mercy's head snapped up. The speeder was cutting across the beach directly toward her, sand spraying in its wake. Not a leisurely cruise. This was purposeful. Targeted.
Her body moved before her mind caught up, scrambling to her feet and stumbling backward in the soft sand. Her hand reached automatically for a weapon she didn't have. Stupid. She'd gotten comfortable, let her guard down in this paradise of fake beaches and perfect weather.
The speeder skidded to a halt twenty feet away. Two figures in mercenary gear jumped out, their movements too coordinated to be anything but professional. One Kellian with mottled green scales, one human with cybernetic enhancements gleaming at his temples.
"Zane!" she screamed. He was too far away to hear her, she knew that, but her instincts didn't care.
The mercs crossed the distance with deadly efficiency.
She tried to dodge, but sand was a terrible surface for quick movements.
The human caught her arm, spinning her around while the Kellian produced a handheld scanner.
She lashed out with her free hand, catching him across the jaw, but he barely flinched.
"Hold still," the Kellian growled, pressing the scanner to her face despite her struggles. The device beeped, a cheerful sound that made her stomach drop.
"Identity confirmed. Bounty on Mercy Webb in progress." His voice was almost robotic, like he was using some kind of modulator.
Bounty? Her mind raced even as she fought against their grip. Was this Horris's doing? Had he put a price on her head? Or was this something else entirely, some new nightmare connected to her father's legacy?
She drove her heel down on the human's instep, satisfaction flaring when he cursed. But these weren't drunk pirates or station thugs. They moved with military precision, the Kellian producing restraint cuffs while his partner kept her arms pinned.
"Stop fighting," the human said, almost conversationally.
She twisted hard, managing to get one arm free, and clawed at the Kellian's face. Her fingers caught scales, tearing, and he snarled something in his native language.
Brace yourself, she heard Zane's voice in her head and had to be hallucinating. You're going to be okay.
A breath later, she heard a dragon's roar loud enough to rattle her eardrums, and a wave of heat rolled over her. Around her. Past her.
But the fire didn't touch her.
What?
The mercs released her instantly, diving away from the inferno that engulfed the space where they'd been standing.
Sand turned to glass beneath dragon fire, the heat so intense it warped the air itself.
But where Mercy stood, in the center of it all, she felt only warmth.
Like standing in sunlight, pleasant and safe.
A massive shadow blocked out the sun. She looked up to see Zane in his full dragon form, wings spread wide enough to darken the entire beach. Scales caught the light like gold, edged in deep crimson that flickered with inner fire.
He was beautiful. Terrifying. Absolutely magnificent.
The mercs scrambled for their speeder, but Zane wasn't finished.
Another blast of fire turned their vehicle into slag, metal running like water into the sand.
They tried to run. Pointless. A dragon could cover ground faster than any human, and Zane moved with predatory grace that made her shiver despite the heat.
One more blast of fire, and the mercs were nothing but ash and bone.
Zane landed on the beach with surprising delicacy for something so large, the impact sending tremors through the sand. One massive leg extended toward her, claws carefully tucked away.
Hop on, he said in her mind. I've got you.
She might have been going crazy, but right now she would take that over sanity.
His scales were warm beneath her hands, almost hot, but not burning. She found purchase between the larger plates, hauling herself up with muscles that remembered climbing cargo nets and access ladders. It should have been terrifying, clinging to a creature out of legend.
It wasn’t.
The world dropped away as he launched skyward. Wind whipped at her hair, tore at her clothes, but she pressed close to his neck and held on. Below them, the resort sparkled, and she could see the dark spots on the beach where sand had turned to glass.
Evidence of dragon fire. Evidence of Zane's protection.
They circled back to their suite, Zane hovering with remarkable control beside their balcony.
She slid off carefully, her legs shaky as they hit solid ground.
Then she watched, transfixed, as he transformed mid-air.
The massive dragon form condensed, shifted, reformed into the man she knew.
He landed on the balcony with casual grace, as if shape-shifting in mid-air was perfectly normal.
Wow.
His face was a mask of fury as he ushered her inside. Smoke was coming off of his body in waves, making their room smell a bit like a campfire.
"I'm alright," she told him. She placed her hand on his arm, and he froze.
Beneath her palm, his skin radiated heat like a furnace, and she could feel the tremor of barely controlled rage running through him.
"How did you do that? Not burn me up?" If she thought about it too hard, she might go crazy, so she was trying to remain calm.
Logical. As if logic was possible at a time like this.
He huffed for a moment until his breathing evened out. "I was careful." But it felt like he wasn't saying something.
What wasn't he saying?
"What kind of shitshow is Judd running?" Zane growled. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and she could see the effort it took not to punch something. "This place is supposed to be safe."
"They said something about a bounty. They scanned my face and confirmed my identity. It wasn't a mistake."
Fresh smoke curled from his shoulders, and his eyes flickered with actual flames. The temperature in the room jumped several degrees. "I'm going to kill them for touching you."
"I think you already did that."
"Not enough." The words came out more growl than speech. He paced the suite like a caged predator, every movement sharp with barely leashed violence. "They put their hands on you. Threatened you. I should have—"
"You saved me." She kept her voice steady, soothing. Like talking to a spooked beast, except this particular beast could breathe fire. "That's what matters."
He stopped pacing, fixing her with those impossible eyes. The fury was still there, but underneath it, something else. Something that made her chest tight and her pulse skip.
They stood there for a moment. Then Zane seemed to pull himself together, the smoke dissipating as he regained control. He moved to the sofa, and after a beat, she joined him. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"We need to tell Myles," said Mercy.
Zane grumbled when she said that name. Strange. "I'm sure he knows by now."
The adrenaline was fading, leaving her shaky and too aware of everything. Of how Zane's shirt stretched across his shoulders. Of the way his jaw tensed when he was thinking. Of how he'd roared her name across a beach and turned her attackers to ash without hesitation.
She'd never had anyone protect her like that. Never had anyone care enough to come running when she screamed. It was terrifying and wonderful and made her want things she couldn't have.
Because men like Zane didn't stay. They played hero for a while, enjoyed the thrill, then went back to their real lives. Their important lives that didn't include broke cargo pilots with more baggage than credits.
But the way he was looking at her now …
"Come home to Vemion with me," he said suddenly. "I can keep you safe there. No one will touch you."
"That's a nice offer, but from the sounds of it, no one would like it if you showed up with … me when you're supposed to be finding your own lady." She had to shut it down before she dared let herself dream.
His eyes flashed, and for a moment, she saw dragon fire in their depths. "I don't give a damn about that. Come with me. Let me protect you. Let me …" If he was going to say more, he thought better of it and trailed off.
Mercy wasn't sure how she was supposed to take that. It didn't sound like he was talking short term. It sounded like … she couldn't let herself think about what it sounded like.
Because thinking about it would mean acknowledging the way her heart hammered when he looked at her. Would mean admitting that when he'd spoken in her mind, it hadn't felt foreign or wrong or like some sort of hallucination.
It would mean accepting that she wanted to say yes. Wanted to follow this impossible dragon lord to his impossible world and let him keep her safe. Let him keep her.
This was insane. They'd known each other less than a week. Most of that time was spent running for their lives. She didn't do this. Didn't want people like this, with a desperation that clawed at her ribs and made rational thought impossible.
But when had anything about Zane been rational?
She crossed the couch and kissed him.