Dragons of Preor: Taulan Read online

  Such as the skin—scales—beneath her palms. Like the fact that a child’s legs didn’t encircle her, but a fluttering tail brushed her thighs. Or the knowledge that others slowly popped above the water’s surface in a loose circle around her. Others that were covered in scales that glistened in the light, and she had no doubt that if she could see into the cool waters, she’d notice they had tails as well.

  Oh shit. What did she just walk into?

  The youngling in your possession is—

  That weird thing again. Lana didn’t have time to play with some idiot who thought it was fun to toy with her.

  She shook her head, pushing that voice—those imaginings—away once more. The toddler clung to Lana, rubbing her tear-stained cheek against Lana’s shoulder. Lana ignored the others and simply sought to soothe the girl, brushing her hair back and whispering against her temple.

  “It’s okay. I have you. Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  The girl hiccupped, lifting her head to meet Lana’s gaze, and that plump lower lip trembled. “S’unged my tail.” She lifted said tail up and out of the water, pointing at a web of red lines crisscrossing the sparkling scales. “D’ere.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll get some…” Some something. How did Ujal treat jellyfish stings?

  “It would be best if you released Theresa to us,” a green Ujal spoke over her, drawing both Lana and the child’s attention.

  “Nooo!” No one could wail like a kid.

  “Shhh…” She glared at the green male while she stroked the girl. Theresa was hurting and crying, obviously scared, and this massive Ujal wanted to take her away from a source of comfort. Lana understood the race didn’t care for humans and were worried about Lana’s intent, but she was the one who’d swum into the middle of the ocean, wasn’t she? She wouldn’t have come out to save Theresa if she meant to do harm.

  That weird thing in her mind tried to push forward, and she shoved it back. If she resisted his attempts at emotional manipulation and control, she could resist some aliens.

  Fatigue slowly inched its way into her, the waning of adrenaline leaving her exhausted. Her strength gradually flagged the longer she held Theresa while treading water. She wouldn’t last too much longer, not against the gentle unending battery by the currents. Then she wouldn’t have a choice but to relinquish the girl.

  “Theresa,” the green male growled, the sound threatening. His glower sent a small shiver of worry down her spine.

  “No!” Theresa clung to her even tighter and she could tell that further arguing would just make her dig her heels—er, tail—in even harder.

  Lana would try to reason with the green male.

  “Look, I swam out to save her because—” Lana ignored the snorts and didn’t let her focus waver. “—the guy on the beach…” She tipped her head toward the pale sand and then glanced at that male as well. He prowled the beach, striding back and forth. Fury and worry filled his form, making each step heavy and brisk. “Just let her swim on her own and didn’t come after her when she yelled for help.”

  The stranger stopped and cupped his hands before shouting, “Bikk!”

  The green guy—Bikk?—sighed and shook his head before turning his attention to another male—this one pink. “Go tell Taulan that all is well. We will escort—“ Bikk glanced at her, a single brow raised.

  “Lana Cob—“ She really needed to get used to her new name. “Cooper.”

  “Lana Cooper to the station.” The male swam off and Bikk’s attention remained locked on her. “We will bring you with us. You can obtain new clothing and speak with security personnel.”

  She tilted her head toward the man on the beach. “What about him? Does he have to speak with ‘security personnel’? He let—”

  “He could not have done more than he did, which was alert us to trouble.” Bikk pressed his lips together and looked toward the sandy beach. “Preors cannot tolerate the seas. They sink and do not have the ability to swim. Coming into the waters would have been a pointless death.”

  For some reason a jolt of worry and concern assaulted her and then a wave of comfort and reassurance came from the Knowing.

  Someone was dicking with her head and she didn’t like it. At all.

  But if he was a Preor, why didn’t the male on the beach have—

  “And that is something Theresa knows.” A grim admonishment filled his tone and Theresa flinched.

  “Are you gonna tell Mama and Papa?” Her voice was so small, so tiny.

  “No, you will.” Bikk’s words brooked no argument.

  A cramp teased her outer thigh, and she gritted her teeth against the pulsating pain in her muscles. It wouldn’t be long before all thoughts of conversation were replaced with the urge to simply stay alive. While she didn’t exactly trust these Ujal, something inside her urged her to put her faith in Bikk and the others.

  “Bikk, right?” She hissed when her calf knotted and then fought against the grimace threatening to overtake her face.

  “Yes?”

  “Either take me to the beach, take Theresa, or support me. I won’t last much longer.” She hated to admit the weakness, but pride wouldn’t keep her breathing.

  The words had Theresa tightening her hold and burying her face against Lana’s neck.

  “Apologies. I forget human frailty.”

  Frailty? If she wasn’t so tired she’d show him frailty. Treading water in the ocean in a suit skirt while holding a toddler was hardly frail.

  Bikk drifted forward, slicing through the water without difficulty, and then she found herself flush against him, her side pressed to his chest. Goosebumps rose all over her, overcoming her skin, while a wave of revulsion embraced her from head to toe. She swallowed against the accompanying zip of pain and suppressed the urge to groan. His touch caused more pain than the cramp stiffening her thigh.

  He didn’t wait for her to grant her agreement. Instead, the moment she was flush with him, he took off. He sliced through the water, moving with surprising speed despite the added weight. The others moved to surround them and easily kept pace, their granite-like gazes missing nothing as they surveyed the surroundings.

  Theresa’s hold never lessened, small arms firmly clinging to her.

  Bikk didn’t say a word while he transported them to UST.

  Yet, while the Ujal remained quiet, the Preor did not. Within seconds of beginning their travels, the other male roared, the sound shaking the air and forcing the water to tremble with its strength.

  Yes, he shouted and it sounded like… “Mine.”

  But that wasn’t the surprising part—or not the only surprising part. No, what frightened Lana even more was the way her body reacted. She sucked in a quick breath when her nipples pebbled and body tightened. That single word resonated through her from head to toe and that weird, intrusive person—thing—announced itself once more. It didn’t do much beyond whisper a single word through her head in return. “Mine.”

  No. No way. She wasn’t losing her mind. She wasn’t infatuated with some Preor running along the beach who roared instead of spoke. She wasn’t.

  But that didn’t stop the sensations from coming. No amount of denial halted the certainty in its tracks. Just as sure as she held an Ujal youngling in her arms, she had a Preor chasing them.

  A Preor who belonged to her.

  5

  They would not allow him to see her, would not even tell him her name or her condition. He’d raced over the sands, cursing his lack of wings with every pounding step. His dragon prowled, his fiery nature snarling at his handicap. If he’d had his wings…

  But he didn’t. Which meant two legs had to take him from place to place. Sand flew when he took off, and a roar escaped his mouth to be followed by a spurt of red flames. His fingers ached and throbbed, the need to shift pummeling him, yet what good would it do?

  Nothing. It would simply make him too large to prowl the hallways of UST. The purple dragon lingered just beneath the surface of his tanned ski
n, the fiery beast searching for a chink in Taulan’s armor. It would not escape. He would not allow anything to keep him from racing to the female’s side as soon as he was able.

  He glared at the two guards flanking the doorway, first flashing the expression to one Ujal—Rhal—and then the other—Erun.

  They were two of Ujal’s greatest warriors and part of the principessa and prince’s personal guards. Rhal could silently kill any, his midnight scales allowing him to slip in and out of any home when he’d worked as the king’s assassin. Erun…Erun could kill just as easily, but he was anything but silent. The male pummeled and destroyed, causing as much pain as he could before ending a life. His time in Ujal’s fighting spheres taught him much.

  Their returning stares were warning enough. If he dared try to breach the room, he would die quietly and quickly or loudly and painfully.

  He did not look forward to either. Not when his… his mate occupied the room beyond that set of doors.

  The Knowing pressed in on him, continuing to pummel him with his race’s genetic knowledge. All that came before him was dumped into his mind. It taught him the secrets of their kind, about events in the past that would shape his future. It gave him the memories of every other Preor in their history. He understood why the Knowing only struck when a mate was found. He would have fallen beneath the weight of this new knowledge, but with his mate to share the burden, he could endure this initial rush of information.

  But he didn’t have his mate—not yet. She remained sequestered, held captive by the Ujal he called friend and ally. A dragon’s roar filled his mind, pushing aside every attempt by the Knowing to give him more. It tried to funnel facts about the Knowing and what must happen when mates found each other. He needed to be at her side or…

  Well, none of it mattered if Rhal and Erun blocked his path. Dragonfire burned him from inside out, scorching his thoughts, and his skin stretched as the animal pushed forward. His shoulders broadened, and he sensed rather than saw, his scales slipping free of his humanoid flesh. He couldn’t have that, though. The walls of UST could not contain a two-hundred-ton dragon. He would destroy the station and all that worked within.

  Including his mate.

  Unacceptable. The Knowing would kill him without her. The knowledge would be too much for a single mind to carry.

  So he must wait. Wait and worry and pray that whatever kept them separated would soon vanish.

  He turned his burning gaze to Rhal and met the male’s black-eyed stare. Not a hint of color showed in his eyes, pure midnight encompassing the orbs. A warning from the Ujal. The assassin was prepared to battle Taulan.

  A battle—the Knowing assured him—the Ujal would win. Already the information weighed on him, stretching his mind almost to the breaking point. If it came down to death or being at his mate’s side, Taulan would risk death. Except, would it mean death for his mate, as well? They were tied now, the Knowing striking them both, though his human mate got it to a lesser degree. At least, he believed her to be human. A Preor and Ujal could not form a bond. And had the female been Ujal, she would not have needed additional assistance in returning to the station.

  Assistance from Bikk. The unattached male had touched his female.

  And Bikk was within that room with his mate. Bikk who sought his own female.

  Unacceptable.

  Taulan took a step toward the doors, skin rippling with the threat of his dragon. The raging beast no longer cared about crushing those around him. Not if it meant getting to her side. It did not care if it did not have wings. It was still a fierce, fire-breathing beast. It could still battle and win.

  “Taulan.” Rhal’s voice held more than a hint of warning. He growled low, and Rhal’s black scales fluttered beneath his skin in a clear threat. The male was reminding him of his status, of who Taulan would fight if he did not calm.

  Taulan found he did not care.

  “I will enter that room, Rhal of the Ujal.”

  “No, you won’t.” To his right, Erun said the words without a hint of inflection, not a true warning but a blatant statement.

  “Yes.” He flexed his hands and pushed against the dragon. “I will not be separated from her.”

  “You were already separated when you failed in your duty,” Rhal countered softly.

  “Yes.” He could not deny he’d failed both Theresa and his mate. That did not mean he would relent. “But nothing you do will stop me from passing through those doors.”

  “I do not wish to do you harm.” Erun crossed his arms over his chest.

  He did not wish to, but he would. This, Taulan knew. Would Taulan not do the same to a Preor warrior who’d failed?

  “I—“

  “Primary Warrior!” The harsh bark preceded the sure stomp of his War Master, Jarek. The rustle of wings sent a pang through him—envy rearing its head—but he pushed it aside in favor of his need to get to his mate.

  He turned and clicked his heels as he pressed his fist over his heart in a salute. “War Master.”

  “Explain,” Jarek snapped, and Taulan did as demanded, recounting the events until… He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Rhal’s and then Erun’s before returning to Jarek. He’d hoped to announce his status privately since he wasn’t sure how his new mate would take—was taking—the Knowing. Rushing her would not help his situation.

  Instead of berating him, the War Master gave him a hard stare, his expression unreadable. If his superior demanded he leave, then Taulan would… disobey Jarek without hesitation. He would not put any additional space between him and his mate. Already he felt the heavy effects of the Knowing dragging him down, and he worried over how his small mate handled the influx. She was so small compared to his height and bulk. Her head would hardly come to his shoulder, and her body was curved in a way that reminded him of the War Master’s mate. Soft and alluring. Gentle.

  And she was protective. Good of heart. Diving into the sea—a place he could never go—showed courage and strength. She’d swum far from shore to save a youngling. True, Theresa hadn’t needed saving—even if she cried over her small stings—but his mate had not known. She saw a child in need and risked her life for that young one.

  Jarek raised his hand, and Taulan tensed, awaiting the punishing strike that was to come. He would not object to a blow to the face for shaming their people and failing in his duties. He imagined he would spend much time incarcerated on the ship as well. He would be taken from the Earth’s surface. He would not feel a hint of wind on his scales.

  Instead…

  Instead, the War Master brought his hand down on Taulan’s shoulder with a hard thump and then squeezed. “Congratulations, Primary Warrior.” And he knew Jarek meant those words. Happiness from his superior was visible in every inch of his expression. “Congratulations.” Another squeeze that nearly sent him to his knees. Nearly. Taulan had not become Primary Warrior because he was weak. He could stand against his leader. It was merely his age that kept him from attaining such a position. Jarek’s next movement forced him to turn with the warrior until they both faced the two Ujal. “Grant us entrance.” Rhal quirked a single brow, and Jarek gave him another punishing tightening. “He will be well and will remain calm.”

  Rhal merely grunted and nodded to Erun. Soon the panels parted for them and Taulan allowed himself to be pulled forward. It took every ounce of control to remain at the War Master’s side. Especially once his gaze scanned the room and landed on his mate.

  Principessa Rina cuddled a subdued Theresa on a nearby chair while Prince Tave stood at her side. But it was his mate who kept him enraptured. Not because of her beauty or the pull of the Knowing.

  It was because the remainder of Tave’s guards surrounded her as she sat in a chair in the center of the room, more than one trident aimed at her.

  A fury he’d never experienced bombarded him, the dragon mentally tackling him with a surprising strength. This was not the frustration that came with being separated, but a rage at her capti
vity—at the threat of violence. Taulan breathed deeply, chest expanding and then contracting. Except with every inhale, the breadth of his shoulders increased, stretching the fabric of his shirt. The beast was not going to relent. Not until his mate was free and held tightly in his arms. Then he would spirit her away, hunt an aerie and keep her safe from those in the room.

  No one would threaten her in such a way ever again.

  But not only the captivity destroyed his control. It was the fear. Her fear. The stinging scent stirred his dragon into a frenzy and adrenaline pumped through his blood. A dragon’s battle readiness overtook him with that single fearful glance. A glance that became a stare. Her bright eyes bored into his, tears swimming in their depths, and then she blinked them away as quickly as they’d appeared. She closed her lids and took a deep breath as well. As if she sampled the air and sought his scent. Yet humans could not find aromas like the Preor.

  It still aroused him to see her try.

  Need and rage battled, one trying to overcome the other until they both pulsed inside him. Take her. Mate her. Take her. Mate her. Over and over the words repeated, urging him to go to her side and do as he desired.

  “Jarek, what is the meaning of this?” Tave’s voice sliced through his mental battle and drew him back to the present. The Ujal leader looked past them to stare at the two males who’d granted them entrance. “Rhal? Erun?”

  Jarek must have recognized Taulan’s internal fight because he tightened his hold even more until Taulan nearly buckled beneath the War Master’s strength. He cursed the lingering exhaustion from his wounds all that time ago and the dragon snarled at its continued captivity.

  It would be free soon enough. He tried to reassure the beast. Soon.

  “You are holding the mate of a Preor and unless you would like to battle with one of my males, you will release her.”

  Taulan may still battle them for daring to touch her. When his mate opened her eyes once more, she settled her unnerving gaze on him. There was so much in her expression. Hope. Heartache. Devastation. Need.