Wyvern’s Outlaw Read online

  Anguissa took another breath of the Seed and didn’t care.

  She wanted him.

  She wanted him now.

  And he was hers to possess.

  Ryke knew better than to waste opportunity.

  Although he was tempted to linger, just to witness the arrival of Princess Anguissa on the deck of the Armada Seven. He wondered if she could possibly look as alluring in reality as she did on the display—some captains did manipulate their appearance—and he wouldn’t have minded having a closer view. Even on the display, her bold stance was enough to take his breath away—never mind the curves straining her uniform in all the right places and her dark eyes flashing with defiance. He was curious about women with spirit and verve, as they were unknown on Centurios. Ryke had a feeling Anguissa was both.

  And that she would more than satisfy his curiosity.

  He also guessed she would quickly shift shape to her dragon form upon arrival, and that would be a sight to behold. He’d never seen a dragon shifter and was curious why they were so despised on his home planet. They had to dangerous, of course, but at the same time, it would be exciting to survive an encounter with one.

  But even this temptation wasn’t enough for him to compromise his own plans. Ryke had been waiting too long for a chance to escape. Beautiful women and the temptation they offered had been his downfall in the past. A long run of enforced celibacy couldn’t influence his choices, not now.

  He needed to to grab the opportunity Anguissa offered. He’d never seen Hellemut so driven to conquer a foe before.

  Was it personal?

  Did that matter? It was useful, and that was all that should be important to Ryke.

  As soon as the sight of Anguissa faded on the display, Ryke watched his superior. Captain Hellemut leaned forward and gripped her chair, her anticipation palpable.

  Her attention was completely fixed on the transport deck.

  Was this the real Captain Hellemut or one of her doppelgangers? The copies had been improving so steadily that Ryke couldn’t reliably tell the difference any more.

  It didn’t matter, really. He just needed to remember that there were at least two Hellemuts to escape.

  Ryke could feel the tingle on his nape, the one he always felt during a transport—whether he was witnessing it or participating in it. Any second, Anguissa would arrive.

  After that, Hellemut would survey the deck.

  She didn’t miss a lot with her three eyes.

  This was a once-in-captivity opportunity.

  Ryke slowly eased away from his station. The trick was not to catch Hellemut’s attention with a sudden movement. His heart was pounding and his palms were damp. He hoped his concern didn’t trigger any sensors set to monitor anxiety in the crew. He kept his hands away from the controls, just in case. Most of the crew looked to be a bit worried so maybe his reaction wouldn’t stand out.

  There was a shimmer above the transport deck. Hellemut lifted a finger and leaned closer.

  Ryke ducked. He heard the slight sound of Anguissa’s arrival and felt the air change. He guessed she was changing shape, because his ears popped, but he was on the move. He expected her to roast Hellemut, which would suit him just fine.

  He felt heat and heard a roar. He smelled burning flesh.

  Everything was exactly as he’d expected.

  Ryke raced across the deck, taking advantage of the distraction Anguissa offered. The rest of the crew appeared to be transfixed by the sight. The color drained from the face of Lored, the nav specialist, when Ryke was alongside him.

  Lored had seen a lot.

  Lored swore softly under his breath, clearly amazed by Anguissa.

  It was too much. Ryke couldn’t deny himself one glimpse. He was on the threshold of escape, almost free, when he dared to glance back.

  Then he stared as well.

  Anguissa was magnificent.

  In dragon form, she was obsidian, gleaming black, with a writhing mane of hair instead of the scales he might have expected down her spine. She filled the transport deck, her back against the ceiling, her tail coiled across the floor and into the command area. Her eyes had orange flames instead of pupils, as if she was filled with fire, even as she exhaled a torrent of flames at Captain Hellemut.

  Hellemut had ducked behind her massive chair. The flames appeared around it like a corona, but Hellemut was looking over the deck.

  Ryke should have defended his captain.

  He wanted to help with her demise, instead.

  Anguissa seemed to be doing a good job. Time to run.

  “Ryke!” Hellemut snapped. He froze and straightened, knowing he’d been caught and doubting the result would be good. “Why have you left your post?”

  Anguissa stopped breathing flames as her attention shifted to him. Having her gaze fixed upon him was both terrifying and exciting—in fact, he hadn’t been so aroused in years. Celibacy definitely didn’t agree with him. It was messing with his concentration. Anguissa inhaled and Ryke was sure she’d breathe more fire. She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming, even as he eased back.

  The deck shook under her weight.

  “Ryke?” his captain demanded.

  Ryke bowed low to Hellemut, pretending to be frightened. “I left my post because there’s a dragon, Captain. It seemed sensible to flee.”

  Hellemut sneered. “And you, a warrior of Centurios, are afraid? Have we finally found something to terrify you, Ryke?”

  “I’ve never seen a dragon, Captain.” He glanced at Anguissa and summoned an expression of disgust. “They’re filthy abominations.”

  Anguissa reared up and roared, her eyes blazing so brilliantly that they were like glimpses of an inferno. The dark mane rippled on her back as if it was a living organism itself. Ryke realized it was a line of snakes, snakes with eyes as yellow as those of the dragon. They bared their fangs as she scattered sparks across the deck, then she took a deep breath, obviously intending to loose another blast at Hellemut.

  “There will be repercussions for this insubordination, Ryke,” Hellemut snarled, even as she reached over to his station and loosed the beams aimed at the transport deck. They generated an energy field of tangled green light, a vortex that surrounded and contained the dragon. It was designed to halt a hostile invasion from the transport deck and its effectiveness sickened him. Ryke could smell dragon scales burning as the trap closed around Anguissa like a net and she snarled as she was bound.

  The ship shook when she fell motionless to the transport deck. A shudder rolled through her massive body as her eyes closed.

  She looked dead.

  Turned out that subduing a dragon was very easy.

  Ryke felt his suspicion rise.

  Too easy.

  Captain Anguissa, he remembered from his research, was inclined to use a feint in battle.

  “That’s right,” Hellemut mused as she reseated herself in her chair. She brushed imaginary dirt from her sleeves, settling her enormous mass in place with satisfaction. “You have little tolerance of non-humanoid species on Centurios. I had forgotten.” She beckoned with one massive hand. “Exterminate the abomination, Ryke. You might enjoy it as much as I will.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Hellemut waved at the fallen Anguissa, whose eyes were open just a slit. “Farewell, Princess Anguissa. I don’t doubt that you’re still listening. I regret that we didn’t have longer to enjoy each other’s company but really, I thought you’d give a better fight than this.” She glanced back at the crew and her voice sharpened. “I expect damage reports as soon as the worm has breathed her last.”

  Ryke hesitated, trying to figure out how to foil Hellemut.

  He didn’t want to see Anguissa die.

  And he certainly didn’t want to be the one responsible for the deed. It was one thing to be abducted by the Gloria Furore—it had to be quite another to have a league of dragon warriors from Incendium hunting him, intending to take their vengeance for the death of one of their ro
yal family.

  Hellemut watched, eyes glittering, as Ryke returned to his station and surveyed the console. Why hadn’t Anguissa changed shape again? He glanced up and discovered that she was watching him. He could see the fire burning in the narrow slits of her eyes.

  It wasn’t dimmed at all.

  Her nostrils quivered and her eyes shone, those snakes trembling, as if she was excited about something.

  She had to be pretending to be more subdued than she was.

  Maybe all she needed was a chance.

  He held her gaze and the snakes bared their fangs. They were odd, but evidently a good clue to her thoughts.

  If given that opportunity, Anguissa would create the distraction Ryke needed to escape. She’d take her vengeance upon one version of Hellemut and he’d run. Ryke smiled and let his hand hover over the controls.

  “Say your prayers, Snake-Eyes,” he said, his words prompting Hellemut’s chuckle.

  Anguissa’s eyes flashed. Did she understand his plan? Ryke had to hope so. He tapped a command, knowing Hellemut could see it on her own display.

  She watched, then smiled and settled back, anticipating a show. “Excellent choice, Ryke. A slow incineration will maximize my pleasure.”

  As soon as Hellemut averted her gaze, Ryke changed the command to one that would stop the beams and release Anguissa. He executed it before he could be stopped.

  The force field blinked out, the green net of energy disappearing before their eyes.

  “Ryke! What have you done?” Hellemut had time to roar before Anguissa’s answering bellow filled the deck with deafening sound.

  He should have run, but Ryke had to watch.

  A dragon princess was a dangerous temptation.

  In the blink of an eye, Anguissa was on her feet and bounding toward the console that had emitted the energy beams. She ripped it from its mooring and cast it across the deck so that it shattered and smashed. Ryke ducked and retreated as she incinerated the crew that stepped up to retaliate, her plume of flame frying the wall containing the nav console to blackened wreckage.

  The Armada Seven had just become space debris.

  There was no better time to leave, to Ryke’s thinking.

  Hellemut shouted commands in fury but Anguissa turned the wall of fire upon her once again. Hellemut’s scream rose higher in her anguish. A pane of glass popped due to the frequency of the sound and the crew ducked as shards scattered over them.

  Alarms sounded even as Ryke was filled with satisfaction.

  It was good to see Hellemut suffer.

  It would be better to know that she was dead. She appealed to him, stretching out one hand from the core of the flames. Ryke simply stared back, letting her see that he wouldn’t help her.

  Mercy had no place in their relationship. She’d taught him that.

  Fury lit her eyes but Ryke didn’t care.

  It was payback time.

  The other crew members just watched, too. A lack of loyalty was, Ryke supposed, a hazard of creating a crew by abduction and keeping them in their place with physical torture.

  Hellemut’s screams faded as the smell of burning flesh became oppressive. When the flames stopped, a cacophony of alarms made him want to plug his ears. The sprinkler system had activated itself and the water made electrical systems short. Sparks flew across the deck, igniting fires where they landed. Anguissa shredded the captain of the Armada Seven with her talons, cast her aside, and scanned the deck hungrily.

  The realization that she wasn’t satisfied hit the crew like an icy tide of shock. The deck filled with shouts and chaos. When one crew member reached for the comm, Anguissa swung her tail and smashed the communications console, sending a chunk crashing to the floor. There was a small explosion, then eruptions of brilliant light all over the deck.

  Ryke saw the nav specialist, Lored, lunge for the button that would awaken the sleeping troops. Better late than never.

  He realized that even this opportunity was dissolving before his eyes. The temptation of beauty had almost cost him a high price again.

  The Armada Seven shuddered, as if it mourned the passing of Hellemut—Ryke supposed someone should—then began to slowly spin. Crew members staggered as the propulsion that kept a modicum of gravity on the deck failed in spurts.

  He lunged for the portal, fearing he’d waiting too long.

  “Ryke of Centurios!” Anguissa shouted, stepping on the corpse of Hellemut.

  He froze, his blood running cold that he was the object of her attention.

  Could a dragon smile? It seemed to Ryke that she did as she approached him, and he feared the worst. With another sweep of her tail, Anguissa cleared the deck, smashing the team into the walls. She spewed more flame over the survivors as if disinterested in their fates, her eyes gleaming as she stared at him.

  “I seize command of the Armada Seven, which means you all answer to me.” Her voice was low and sexy, somehow feminine despite her dragon form.

  Ryke really had been alone too long.

  But she was so magnificent.

  So beautiful, in either form.

  His mouth went dry.

  He held her gaze, even as she breathed a stream of fire that roasted the tips of his boots. “Not me,” he dared to say.

  Her eyes shone. “Yet you stopped at my summons, even though you think me an abomination,” she mused, smoke rising from her nostrils.

  “On Centurios, all non-human life forms are considered abominations,” Ryle said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Why?”

  “Because the bestial mind is different,” he confessed. Time was slipping away. The troops had to be awakening in the storage hold far below. Ryke heard the airlocks groan and recognized that the damaged deck would be sealed off from the rest of the ship before it was further compromised.

  “More focused?” Anguissa demanded, eyes blazing. He could feel the force of her will upon him and averted his gaze.

  “More manipulative.” He bit out the words, seeing her skepticism. He elaborated to insult her, hoping she would turn away from him. “A beast can deny the will of an umbro, twist the truth and even deceive the umbro into believing he’d witnessed something that had never happened. Such abominations defy the rules and refuse to be controlled. That added to their tendency to deceive means they had to be exterminated.”

  Her eyes flashed. “We’re not on Centurios, Ryke.”

  She was already showing her true nature, her interest compelling him to stand and explain when he should have been running.

  “No. We’re in deep shit, Snake-Eyes.” He gestured to the smoking and charred remains of the ship’s controls. “If you’re taking command of this pile of junk, good luck with it.”

  “Not a fan of the Armada Seven, Ryke?”

  “Trashing the nav system was a short-sighted strategy if you’d meant to use this vessel to go anywhere at all. What is your exit plan?”

  She was surprised. Ryke guessed it was because of his form of address, not because of the situation. She had to know that trashing the deck would have repercussions.

  She couldn’t be stupid, could she? That would have been a real abomination.

  “You’re impertinent, Ryke.”

  “I’m honest, Snake-Eyes. It’s a novelty around here.”

  “And you’re an umbro,” she whispered, leaning closer. Her eyes glittered. “Why haven’t you killed them all?” Her voice dropped low. “Why haven’t you killed me?”

  “There are some places even an umbro doesn’t want to go.” He wasn’t going to explain his strategy, not to a dragon shifter.

  Her eyes narrowed and he wondered how sharp her hearing was. Could she hear the airlocks and the troops?

  Ryke could. The airlock over his head was moving and would slide into place in seconds. The deck would be sealed off and the damage contained until it could be assessed and repaired. Either way, the Armada Seven wasn’t going anywhere soon.

  He had to leave immediately and forget this
dragon princess.

  “It’s been a treat, Fire Breath,” he said, and waved before he ran. Ryke took a chance that she wouldn’t be able to respond quickly enough to stop him, but he feared it was a long shot.

  Even with the air lock closing.

  “Stop!” Anguissa cried.

  Ryke didn’t.

  The Seed.

  The scent of it filled Anguissa with a seductive mix of yearning and satisfaction. Her lust was raw and rampant, her need so potent that it made her a little bit dizzy. The scent of the Seed made her desire rise and obliterated every other concern from her mind.

  It was dangerous and irresistible.

  It even overwhelmed her aversion to umbros.

  She knew what Ryke was, but she still wanted him. That was amazing. He was tall and strong, a warrior among men, and—if he hadn’t been an umbro—Anguissa would have wanted him even without the encouragement of the Seed.

  But he was an umbro. She should know better.

  Ryke. A good strong name.

  She could readily believe that he was from Centurios, whose fighting men were legendary throughout the galaxy for their ruthlessness, their cunning, and their raw power. That he was an umbro should have given her pause, but the Seed allowed for no hesitation. She was looking forward to claiming him, no matter what price she had to pay.

  It was true that the Seed had surprised her and made her flow of dragon fire falter. It was true that she’d been a little distracted as she tried to identify him in the ranks of the crew. It was definitely true that she’d been more enthusiastic in breathing fire than would have been ideal. It was the Seed, undermining her judgment, obliterating all concerns beyond seducing the Carrier.

  But once she’d spotted Ryke, she’d let herself be captured, knowing she needed to reserve her strength for their mating.

  He’d not only criticized her technique—which was refreshing—but he’d facilitated her release.

  Clearly, their thoughts were as one. She hadn’t believed he was revolted by her nature. No, there had been a very interested gleam in his eyes, one that Anguissa recognized well. She liked his blunt speech and his audacity.

  Why was he running?

  Belatedly, Anguissa recalled what she should have realized all along. The Seed was turning her into an idiot. Of course, Ryke was right. The deck would be cordoned off from the rest of the ship since it had been damaged. Her passionate extinction of Hellemut had compromised the Armada Seven more than she should have dared.