Coral

Given his pupils are mere slivers of onyx in his flaming eyes and the light is low in this place, he's obviously stuffed to the eyeballs with the drug Drega has been giving him. Even if he's pulled out the tube which should be snaking into his chest.

Drasus stares at me for so long, I'm beginning to wonder if Sarkarnii can sleep with their eyes open.

"I need…Drega," he forces out.

I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but this huge beast of a Sarkarnii looks uncomfortable.

"Drega is on the Golden Orion today. I can help if you're in pain."

I reach for the tube dangling above him, ready to reconnect it to the port in his chest, which is apparently where Sarkarnii have the best veins for medication.

A massive hand closes over mine. Drasus is drugged but he's still fast.

"The only pain I have is from needing…" He closes his stunning eyes, swallows hard. "…to use the sanitary facilities," he grinds through gritted teeth.

Drasus needs the bathroom. And he needs it badly, given the way he slides from side to side.

"My legs. They don't want to work," he says, and this time the fear and the anger flow through his words.

I pull back the thin blanket covering him. He is naked, but as I've come to expect, the fabled Sarkarnii cock isn't in evidence, it's neatly tucked away in what they call their "pouch." Drasus hisses at the movement of the covers. One by one, I gently lift his legs free and slide my arm around his waist.

"Rest on me. I'll take you to the bathroom…I mean sanitary facility."

Drasus glares. "You cannot hold me."

"I think you'll find I can. And anyway, you have no other option."

He looks around the room, as if hoping a Sarkarnii will appear out of the walls. I hide a smile. I know he's badly injured, but drugged like this, a huge male like Drasus, fighting with his psyche, he is a little bit cute.

"Fine," he growls and I help him stand.

Boy! He is heavy. I mean, he is seven foot plus of muscle and scales, so I don't quite know what I was expecting, but his weight is crushing as we make our way the six or seven feet to the sanitary area.

Unlike most bathrooms the Sarkarnii prefer, this one doesn't have a bath. Instead it has a rudimentary shower and the alien equivalent of a sink and toilet.

I feel Drasus speed up from slug to snail's pace as we get close, one hand fumbling around with his crotch, as presumably the pouch opens up for reasons other than having sex.

He must really need to go.

Concern twinges in my chest. How long has he been like this? Should I have been paying more attention to him in Drega's absence?

We reach the bathroom, and he puts one hand up on the wall. I grab at his crotch, as there's no sign of his penis, but he bats my hand away.

"I don't need you," he growls. "Go."

"I don't want you to fall."

"I won't nevving fall. Let me piss in peace," he snarls, pupils still thin slits, eyes flaming as he delves into himself. "Just leave me alone."

"Whatever!" I throw my hands up. "I'll be out here if you need me."

Drasus urinates with a loud, satisfied moan. From where I've positioned myself, I can see his hand gripping the wall, and it flexes as he relieves himself for what seems like forever, until finally the stream slows and ceases.

The hand slips suddenly, and I'm on my feet, racing back to the bathroom to catch him just before he does a header into the toilet.

When I say catch, it's not quite as noble as it sounds. I let him fall on me and I struggle to keep him upright. The saving grace is he has managed to put his cock away.

"Female?" Drasus slurs.

"Yes," I snap. "Female."

"Don't want one," he says, words a hoarse sigh.

"You don't have one, Mr. Beast," I mutter under my breath, bracing myself to take his virtually dead weight. "Certainly it's not me."

"Good," he growls.

Rude.

With some difficulty, because on the return journey Drasus is absolutely not trying to help himself, I get him back to the bed. His eyelids flutter, but then they open, and he stares at me.

"What are you doing here?" he snarls.

"Helping you!" My patience gives out a little, and I immediately inwardly chastise myself for behaving in such an unprofessional manner.

Drasus has been badly injured. So badly, he can't change his shape to heal himself like other Sarkarnii, who heal better when they are massive dragons. He narrows his eyes at me, opening his mouth, presumably to make some other remark about my sex or status. I grab the tube hanging down from the half-filled infusion and employ an ages old technique known as a "chemical cosh" by plugging the tube back into the port installed in his chest.

He growls. He glares, but as the infusion makes its way into his system, those eyelids flutter again, and very soon his eyes are closed, long dark eyelashes sweeping the tiny iridescent purple scales on his face, and his breathing deepens.

And just like that, the Kirakos' beastliest grump is asleep. Thank goodness.