eye the facility far, far in the distance, through the trees and across the shattered landscape, hoping to see her. A splash of red among the green. But she’s nowhere to be found from our vantage point way up on the cliffs.
I haven’t seen her in many days. Venom leaks from my fangs. I need to see her soon or I may do something crazed, like storm the humans’ barrier and take on their robots for just a glimpse.
She is the same color as me. I never thought such a female existed besides my sisters. One with Viper in her blood.
No creature in all the verdant lands or the oceans of sandy waste has ever been the same color as me. She is mine because of this. Even if I haven’t memorized her face, even if I don’t know the sound of her voice, or her name, she is mine.
My hands tremble with the need to comb my fingers through her hair. My nose itches to burrow into her neck and languish in its warmth, in the scent of her skin.
“We give them nothing, and they won’t be the wiser,” I hiss, “while they give usss everything in return.”
The other males beat their chests and hoot in agreement. The coming hunt excites us. I feel it in my veins, the way my blood pumps heavy. My member rises to the occasion. I slam my fist against my chest and hoot with them.
“How many females are there?” Vagan asks when we settle. “Not enough, last I checked.” His blue scales and long, slender body are like mine, except he is blue where I am red. Vagan is of the Blue Coral clan, a ruler of the dangerous waterways. He may be brightly colored like me, but to face him near water was certain death.
Of all the nagas gathered, Vagan is the one I watch the most. Him and the Death Adder.
But Zhallaix, the Death Adder, is not here. He would rather kill us than work with us. An enemy to us all. He has no honor, nor allegiance. Ruthless and wild, he is probably fucking a mossy rock and spitting venom somewhere off in the hills. I have not seen Zhallaix since the ship first appeared.
“I have only seen three,” Zaku answers. The King Cobra is fearsome, but I do not watch him like Vagan and some of the others. One bite and the Cobra could take out any one of us, but he has honor in his cold veins.
Honor I do not know if I have. But Zaku isn’t just honorable, he’s pompous and hard-headed. Everything is beneath him, and it shows in his inability to help anyone but himself, even in this. If Zaku could steal a female human for himself, he wouldn’t have gathered us. Sometimes I think he’s not honorable at all, just overzealous.
I keep an eye on him anyway. If Zaku doesn’t win one of the females today, he’s going to destroy the world. Or die trying.
As for everyone else? They watch me.
I tighten my grip on my spear, meeting their eyes.
“Three? Three is not enough!” Vagan shouts. “There are at least seven of us here, and more yet in these woods. How will three brides appease us all?”
“They won’t,” I say. “We will fight for them when they are handed over.”
Some growl, some hiss in agreement. We size each other up, considering who we could off now before the humans arrive.
The Boomslang with the shimmery green scales slips to the ledge, his voice lowering. “Why not fight now? Until there are only three of us left?” Azsote suggests, waving his hand.
“Why not let the females choose who they want to mate with?” another offers. I look at the naga and bare my fangs. It’s the Copperhead. He is a quiet one. I’m surprised to hear him speak at all.
“No,” I snap.
“That won’t work,” Zaku says at the same time.
“We will not honor their choices,” I add. If my female chooses another over me, I would kill him and take her.
I am not honorable, after all.
The Copperhead nods. He knows what I say is true. The females can’t have the luxury to choose, not now that their very presence has created a strange fervor.
Our members have filled up with unspent spill, causing pressure, bringing us pain. When I first saw my human, my shaft flooded with seed, seed that has been dormant for years, and I have had to milk my prick nightly to relieve the