His Highness the Duke

Dragon Lords V:

His Highness The Duke

By

Michelle M. Pillow

Dragon Lords: His Highness The Duke © copyright 2012 by Michelle M. Pillow

First Electronic Printing January 2012 The Raven Books

Cover art by Natalie Winters © Copyright 2011 - 2012

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission

from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author‘s imagination

and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is

merely coincidence.

Published by Raven Books

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Raven Books and all affiliate sites and projects are © Copyrighted 2004-2012

Dragon Lords V:

HIS HIGHNESS THE DUKE

By

Michelle M. Pillow

Bonus!

At the end of this book you will find complimentary material free of charge.

Happy Reading!

The Raven Books

Dedication

To Lilifus the Vampire Kitty. We love you always.

We‘ll miss you, Lily.

About Dragon Lords (Books 5-8)

The Noblemen brothers aren‘t new to the sacred Qurilixian bridal ceremony.

After several failed attempts at finding a bride, it‘s hard to get excited about yet another

festival. No matter how honorable they try to live, it would seem fate thinks them

unworthy of such happiness--that is until now.

With very few words spoken and the shortest, most bizarre courtship in history,

they will bond to their women forever. And once bonded, these men don‘t let go.

Dragon Lords is the first installment in Michelle M. Pillow‘s bestselling futuristic

romance multi-series. The first four books center around the four Draig Princes, men

who, unlike their cousins, have no problem with commitment as they enter their first

ceremonies. Books 5-8 follow the lives and loves of the noble cousins, starting with the

High Duke of Draig. The books can be read separately from the first installment of the

series, though the author recommends reading the books in order.

The futuristic multi-series continues after the Dragon Lords with the Lords of the

Var series, Space Lords series, Zhang Dynasty series, as well as the short stories Galaxy

Playmates. For details or reading orders please visit www.michellepillow.com.

His Highness The Duke

Chapter One

Intergalactic Gambling Championship, Torgan Black Market

City of Madaga, Planet of Torgan

Aeron Grey tucked the full length of her long black hair beneath the black

headcap, even the short bangs. The Federation Military uniform wasn‘t necessarily the

most inconspicuous attire, but she did her best to blend in with the crowd. It was the

usual ruffian mix of humanoids and other beastly creatures one would expect to see on

a black market planet. Some looked like human males with only minor differences, like

strange protrusions or ripples of flesh on their faces and bodies. Others were hairy, with

long arms and massive chests. There were those with the skin of reptiles, large black

horns, or flesh of many colors. Some had wings. Some had webbed fingers. Every

disreputable lowlife creature imaginable came to Madaga—pirates, crooked

businessmen, slave traders, bounty hunters, guns for hire, and now apparently

absconding Federation Military analysts looking to hitch a ride from a degenerate

gambler for a long distance space trip.

―Nice costume,‖ a humanoid man drawled as she passed nearby. He wore a

feather dress and shiny red boots. ―Where do I enlist?‖

―I love a girl in uniform,‖ his friend added with a high-pitched laugh. She

couldn‘t tell if the sparkling blue skin was painted on or part of his natural alien

complexion.

Aeron flinched, giving him a nervous smile as she quickly moved past. Perhaps

the uniform blended more than she thought. Seconds later a swaying battalion of

soldiers sauntered past in mock formation. It would appear someone hijacked a

Federation Military uniform shipment and sold it at the market—which was actually

pretty lucky for her.

―Come on!‖ One shouted excitedly, seeing her attire. ―Join us!‖

―Into formation, soldier!‖ Their leader yelled, laughing.

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Michelle M. Pillow

Aeron shook her head, backing away. She bumped into a gurgling creature with

red horns and instantly changed directions. ―Excuse me.‖

The creature gurgled louder. Since she didn‘t speak Gorga, she didn‘t

understand what he-she said.

She looked up through the glass ceiling toward the night stars. A slash of three

rings split the sky into sections. They encircled the entire brown-gray planet. Aeron had

flown past them while landing. From the sky, the Torganian city of Madaga was a dusty

spec of hell in the shape of a desert sand dune. Up close it was a dusty gathering of

adobe-style businesses built out of the brown-gray earth, shoved up against the larger

complexes of metal and glass. Oh, and not only did it look like hell, it was the

temperature of hell as well—at least outside on the docking platform. Inside the metal

structure, the air was much cooler.

She continued navigating the crowd in the main compound, trying to focus more

on the surroundings than the people. Large banners declared the much anticipated end

of a year long Galactic Scavenger Hunt in a few months‘ time. Others flashed seductive

pictures that advertised the Galaxy Playmate dancers were coming to the planet.

Several of the guys in her assigned spaceport had those exact pictures stuck on their

walls.

The main compound had the appearance of a legitimate trading center, but

everyone knew it was a virtual black market of fenced goods and tawdry services. If it

was illegal and sought after, chances were it could be found here.

Aeron neared the round bar in the center of the room and navigated her way

around the tables. This was the last place she wanted to be. The loud music, smoky

atmosphere, and drunken patrons were a far cry from her well-disciplined life. She

never had time for dancing and music. She rarely drank, except on leave—which,

ironically, was spent alone in her room on Federation property. As she neared the far

side of the bar, she hesitated. Long, metal tables stretched out before her, most of them

occupied.

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His Highness The Duke

She didn‘t want to be here, but she had to be. Other people might not

understand. The military wouldn‘t understand, or care, but she had to do this. For five

months, ever since she‘d heard that damned transmission about a possible genocide

attack over some ore mines in the Y quadrant, she could think of little else. The planet

was called Qurilixen. The Federation has no authority there, and quite frankly little

interest in it but for their mining operations. The people kept to themselves and by all

reports lived quite primitively. She‘d reported the incident and then made a nuisance of

herself until she got an answer. Unfortunately, she was told the Federation refused to

get involved. So long as they got the ore mined on the planet one way or another, they

were keeping their hands free of the whole situation. But, Aeron couldn‘t let it go. She

couldn‘t stand by and do nothing. She didn‘t know the Qurilixen people, aside from a

few facts she‘d managed to dig up in the Federation archives. Regardless, to her

thinking, there was only one decision to be made. She had knowledge that could save a

race of people, so she was morally obligated to try.

As a civilian contracted as a Federation analyst, she was supposed to listen,

translate and analyze the threat according to certain protocols. To her, genocide was the

ultimate threat. A primitive people might not have the technology to get advance

warning of an attack or take over. Genocide. Enslavement. Whatever the Tyoe

eventually planned for the Qurilixen people, it wasn‘t good.

Following several sets of eyes upward, she frowned. A woman‘s larger than life

face shone in oversized holographic contemplation. Auburn hair was slicked back to

reveal a slender face.

Under her breath, Aeron muttered, ―Riona. There you are. Figures you would be

at the center of this crowd.‖

―You want a good seat, darling? Come over here and I‘ll let you bounce on my

lap. It‘ll only hurt for a second. Then it‘ll feel real nice.‖ The man was so hairy she could

barely make out features. Large flying insects buzzed around his greasy head. He

reached for her hips to make good his threat. She jumped out of his way and hurried

toward Riona.

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Michelle M. Pillow

Aeron heard a woman‘s boisterous laughter before she found Riona at a center

table in the spotlight. Metal discs floated before her in a large game grid. Tiny snaps of

electricity shot between them. Fingernails tapped an inert disc as the woman

contemplated her next move.

Not wanting to waste time, Aeron reached for Riona‘s arm and said, ―Ri.‖

At that same moment, Riona chose to toss her disc. Her smile fell and she blinked

heavily at the sudden distraction. It was too late. Her finger slipped and the disc slid off

its original course, right into a strip of electricity. The unit blinked once and then fizzled

as it was destroyed. Metal particles fell to the table. Chaos erupted in a series of cheers

and pounding fists of protest.

Slowly, Riona stood, her returning smile strained but there. Lights flashed

around them and Aeron ducked her head down to avoid the photographs. She knew

the military could trace her, but hopefully one missing low-level analyst wouldn‘t cause

too many problems or red alerts. When this self-given mission was over, she would

explain her actions and throw herself on the mercy of her Federation superiors.

Eyeing Aeron, Riona said through tight lips, ―Greetings, sister. I didn‘t know the

Federation was sending security guards to the event. You should have sent a

transmission warning me. I would have told you this wasn‘t your scene.‖

Aeron stiffened at the familiar way her sister spoke to her. It was an automatic

reaction. She spent most of the time denying she had any family to speak of. There was

a reason for it. Her sister was a degenerate gambler who didn‘t take a thing seriously. If

not for the big glaring hint in the form of a gambling tournament, Aeron wouldn‘t have