Slag (Galaxy Pirates #4) - Alana Khan Page 0,1

life depended upon it. I’ve never felt so free.

I wade through the stream, up to my knees in the swift-flowing water, then dip my head for a drink. Water never tasted this cool or refreshing.

As I amble back to the pillars, the fires return. Is it always supposed to hurt like this? I squeal in pain, going down on my front knees, unable to stand.

Agony burns brightly in my withers until I squeal again. And then wings emerge from my withers, and I realize I’m shifting into a dragon.

Moments later I sense how to lift myself off the ground and I fly. The feeling is amazing as the wind caresses my skin. No, no longer skin, iridescent cobalt scales.

How many times have I laid on the pale purple grasses, looked up at the birds, and wondered what it would feel like to fly? To drift on the wind currents? This. This is better than I imagined.

As I circle toward the temple, I see all my tribe spilling out the front door to point to me. I snort at them and fly to inspect the People’s lands.

We’re bounded by the mountains to the East and the Malee River to the West. The country is lush and purple with rolling hills.

When I return to the temple, my people will think I’m a dragon shifter, but I’m not. I’m a chameleon like my father—an az’rah. I can shift into anything. It’s truly a gift from the Gods. I can help my people in many ways, from land and sea and air.

I want to be the best male I can be. I want to lead, if that’s in the stars, but most of all I want to protect.

Chapter One

Present Day . . .

KJ

Somewhere in the last ten minutes, I lost all hope that I’d wake up from this nightmare. I’d kept up the illusion that this was a bad dream from opening my eyes in a stasis pod, to seeing the boar-faced aliens who abducted me from Earth, to landing on this planet and being force-marched through swirling red sands toward the mansion where I’m standing.

I can’t keep up my self-delusion any longer, though. Every inch of my exposed skin is stinging from the biting sand, and there’s a point on my spine that aches from where one of the guards thumped me with a laser gun to prod me to move faster.

The most conspicuous reason of all that I can’t pretend this isn’t happening is the humanoid snake standing less than two feet from me.

“My new pet has arrived,” he says, circling me. As he appraises me, I do the same. He’s six-feet tall and bipedal. He’s wearing a blue silk Hugh Hefner-esque smoking jacket. His arms are humanoid to an extent, but his black fingernails are sharp as stilettos.

It’s his head, though, that’s the skeeviest part. It belongs on a cobra. Covered in black scales, there’s a cowling around what I assume are hidden earholes. When he blinks, you can’t see his eyes—they’re so black they’re camouflaged by his scales. It’s only when his reptilian eyes are open and reflect the light that you can tell he has eyes at all.

All of that is overpowered by his most alarming feature—the teeth. Two elongated canines at least an inch and a quarter long are surrounded by a random assortment of shorter, jagged teeth that most certainly must be classified as lethal weapons.

He called me a pet, but I have a feeling he has specific uses for me that won’t stray far from the bedroom.

“Finally. A replacement for It,” he says with disgust. “It!” he bellows.

A lovely four-armed female with pale opalescent blue skin scurries into the room. She’s naked, her posture is hunched, her eyes downcast. She practically curtsies as she stops in front of him and waits.

“I’ve grown tired of you. This female will be taking your place. I’m having trouble deciding whether I should let the fighting males in the Pit have you until they use you up, or toss you to the males in the mine.” He taps his pointed black nail on his chin as he deliberates. “I’ll have to think on it.”

Three of my abductors brought me here at gunpoint. In addition, the snake guy has three armed guards of his reptilian race standing behind him. I don’t see any escape. Glancing at poor It, it’s obvious she wouldn’t be here if there was any way out. Her beautiful skin is marred by bruises and cuts. I don’t