Dragons of Preor: Taulan Page 9

  His injuries throbbed in time with his heart, each step jarring him and sending new bolts of pain down his spine. Exhaustion teased him, tempting him to succumb, but he would not fail his Lana. So he continued. He pushed. He moved from one hallway to the next, whispers in his wake.

  Then… Then they were finally at their destination, the double doors of medical standing wide and welcoming. The two healers on shift along with several healer assistants stood near the opening. Thankfully, they did not dare approach. Taulan’s dragon shouted for blood, demanded they bathe in the red liquid of their enemies. At the moment, it would even accept a friend to devour.

  The second he drew close enough, the Healing Master spun on his heel and led Taulan to a nearby platform. Yes, the Healing Master moved quickly but it was Taulan who spoke first. “Do you have human repair programming?”

  If they did not, he would go to the surface, the Ujal and humans be damned.

  “It was the first item negotiated by Zurer joi Sobol.” The healer rushed to a datapad while the other acquired one nearby. “Diagnose or repair?”

  Diagnose? He could tell them what was wrong. As for repairing her, she was bleeding and—

  “I shall repair,” the other healer replied.

  He was not talking to Taulan.

  Lana opened her eyes and slowly turned her head to meet Taulan’s gaze. “Shaa kouvi.” She stretched out her arm, searching for his touch, and he stepped forward, anxious to feel her skin against his. “Shaa kouvi.”

  She called to him and he went, easily reaching her side in two strides. But when he went to grasp her hand, the healers stopped him. “The diagnosis cannot be completed while she touches another.”

  Taulan curled his fingers, forming a tight fist while he battled the urge to kill the healer for keeping them separated. Lana gave him a pain-tinged smile and then slowly closed her eyes. At first he believed her to be asleep, but he soon recognized the signs of loss of consciousness and he shot a glare at the Healing Master.

  The Healing Master did not appear to care. “Her pain does no one good. She will sleep until she is adequately repaired. The damage looks superficial but there are traces of other injuries deeper within.”

  Lights encompassed Lana, the white shifting from red to blue and yellow. The rainbow of hues skated over her skin in an invisible caress. He did not know much about healing—only about warring—but he recognized the colors of serious injuries.

  His gut clenched, a tremor sinking deep into him and he gasped for breath. He stumbled and caught himself on another platform, using it to stay upright. “Healers?”

  They did not give him their attention. Their focus was on their machines and his mate’s body.

  “Healers?” Smoke escaped his nose, the dragon’s fire lurking at the edge of his control. It would not take him much to release the banked heat.

  The Healing Master glared at him and then nodded at the secondary healer before approaching Taulan, his expression grim. “War Master Taulan—“ At least not everyone disagreed with his new position. “Lana Coburn—“

  “Lana joi Taulan Coburn,” his correction was immediate even if he shouldn’t worry about such things at the moment.

  “Your mate will require extensive healing. Previous injuries have complicated…”

  “She only had a small bit of blood…” He waved his hand at his lip.

  “As I said, it is hidden beneath her flesh. We are repairing those areas now, but it will take time. She is human. Our technology will work, but at a slower pace than if she were Preor.”

  Taulan stared at his mate, remembering her wide smile and the vivaciousness she showed. “But she will heal?”

  The Healing Master drew up to his full height. “I have not lost a single soul to the stars on this platform and I shall not begin with the War Master’s own mate.”

  That was the truth. Taulan had lived, the worst of the injured from the multiple explosions, while in the healer’s care. “See that she does.” He jerked his head in a quick nod. “Keep me informed.”

  “We will keep her sedated for many hours so she will not experience the pain of healing.”

  He hated that he wouldn’t be able to hear her voice until she was well once more, but he was more dismayed at the idea of her feeling pain if she was conscious.

  “Understood.” With that, he turned toward the entry to medical, intent on reaching the two captive males.

  “War Master? You would leave her?” Disapproval lingered in the healer’s voice.

  Taulan’s bloodlust rode him too hard, pushed and prodded him to take additional steps to protect his mate. Including eliminating threats.

  He stopped at the entryway and leaned against the wall, his injuries drawing strength from him but not doing anything to diminish his resolve. “I leave to kill those who touched her.”

  Slowly. Methodically. Painfully.

  14

  Lana woke with a splitting headache, her head throbbing in time with her heart. She squeezed her eyelids and then pulled them open, blinking against the blinding light. She slammed them closed once more and turned her head away from the glow. Her next attempt came one eye at a time, a slow reveal that didn’t sting quite so much. Of course, with her head turned, her first view wasn’t of those glaring bulbs but the face of a stranger.

  She jerked back, unnerved by the male’s closeness, only to groan and curse herself for the movement.

  “She has woken, Healing Master.” The stranger spoke and pushed to his feet. It was then she noticed his uniform—of sorts. The Preor warriors wore straps that crossed their chests and tight pants, both made from a tanned leather-type material that was native to their planet. The markings on one of the thick straps denoted his rank—First Warrior.

  Hands gripped her, one wrapping around her wrist while another clipped something to her forefinger on the other hand. She wrenched her arms free, swallowing her moan of pain as she sought to evade their grips. She’d already been held down by another Preor. She didn’t want to add others to the mix.

  “Keep your hands to yourself,” she growled.

  “War Mistress—“ One healer attempted to grasp her wrist again.

  “Lana Coburn—“ That healer clipped the device to her finger.

  This time, she wasn’t as nice. Despite the pain throbbing through her body, encasing her veins and sinking into her muscles, she crawled away from them. She pulled her legs up and crab walked backward until she clenched the edge of the platform-bed-thing.

  She gritted her teeth and swallowed the agony that came with her next movement. She kicked against the platform’s surface and held the edges even tighter. Between the push and the tightening of her muscles, she flipped up and back, rolling until her feet landed on the ground with a resounding thud that sent a jolt of pain up her spine. She hadn’t retained much about the defense portion of her self-defense class, but Steven taught her one thing—the importance of getting away. She was very, very good at that.

  She swayed on uneasy legs, fighting for balance as she kept her attention focused on the males in the room. The two healers and the First Warrior weren’t the only ones around her. No, two others lingered near other platforms. Like hers, they held bodies. Unlike hers, the bodies lying there were covered in translucent pods.

  The Knowing rushed forward. Freeze containers for the dead. At least it didn’t try and spout the Preor language at her.

  Who’d died?

  Movement drew her gaze back to those surrounding her, the healers and single warrior standing uneasily nearby. Well, the healers looked uneasy. The warrior had a speculative gleam in his eyes.

  “War Mistress…” The elder of the two healers—a Healing Master if the Knowing was to be believed—took a step forward.

  Lana countered his movement with one of her own, heading backward and farther away.

  “Lana Coburn…” The younger healer tried again and she bristled at the name he’d used.

  “My name is—“

&nbs
p; The First Warrior finished berating the male on her behalf. “Lana joi Taulan Coburn. And you will remember this or I shall beat it into you.”

  Okay, she liked the warrior. She still didn’t want the healers touching her. Not that she wanted the warrior, but she liked him a hint more than the other two.

  Her location was obvious, but the reason escaped her. She hadn’t been that hurt. Had she? She could take a punch. Steven proved that many times over. “What happened?”

  “You suffered from a broken cheekbone, fractured ribs, several contusions—“

  Lana licked her lower lip. She would have just called it a split lip, but whatever.

  “—And shock.” So… nothing new. “It also appears you have suffered many such injuries in the—“

  The first question that came to her during every hospital stay jumped forward once again. “Can I go?” She ached, but didn’t hurt. “Where’s Taulan?” She didn’t want to talk about what she’d endured in the past. At all. Ever.

  “I do not know why you rose before your healing was complete, but you still have additional—“

  She held up a hand, silencing the healer. “I’ve been healing on my own for a long time.” She pressed her fingers to her ribs, checking her pain level. “And I’ve felt worse. This’ll be gone in a day or two.”

  The elder healer wasn’t giving up. “You must—“

  “I shall escort you to your quarters, War Mistress.” The First Warrior stepped forward and she decided he was her new best friend.

  “Where’s Taulan?”

  The First Warrior’s lips tightened and formed a white slash beneath his nose. “On the command deck.”

  And the command deck was on the way to her quarters. “We’ll swing by there on the way home.”

  Home. Was their suite home now? A home of sorts, anyway. Private, quiet, and theirs. With her fight with those two Preors came something else—the destruction of her hold on the Knowing. Now information flowed freely, Preor words identifying every part of the ship rested at the tips of her fingers and the edges of her mind.

  The First Warrior kept pace with her, his heavy boots thumping against the metal pathway. He kept his pace slow—or at least slower—for her. His steps were shorter and matched her own, the massive male not drifting from her side or attempting to lead her.

  “What’s your name?” She might as well learn as many names as she could. It seemed she’d be on the ship—with Taulan—for the rest of her life. Might as well learn about those involved in it.

  “Skala sen Hweda, War Mistress,” he murmured.

  They turned yet another corner and Skala froze in place. When she turned her attention to him, it was to see his wings fluttering. His nostrils flared and a glare overcame his eyes. She followed his line of sight and her eyes fell on a splotch of red that marred the silver.

  Blood.

  Probably her blood.

  He growled low, maroon scales coming into view while his wings shimmied once more. “Skala? I…” The Knowing surged. She had to appeal to his need to nurture and cosset a female. She softened her voice and swayed. The swaying wasn’t faked but the hoarse whisper was. “Skala sen Hweda.”

  He slowly tore his attention from her. “War Mistress?”

  “I’m getting tired. Are we close?”

  He glanced at the spot once more and then nodded. He gestured for her to continue. “This way.”

  Skala didn’t say a word as they traversed the rest of the hallways. He was quiet but she was not.

  Who were the males who attacked Taulan and me?

  Droze and Luuvak. Cousins and Droze’s father was an important male to the council.

  How did they come through the battle?

  Dead.

  Dead. Dead. The word rang through her mind, bouncing around her brain and refusing to be banished. Dead?

  “I didn’t think—“

  “They breathed when you departed,” Skala assured her.

  “Then who was it? What happened?” She slowed her travels. If the men were alive when she and Taulan left, who’d completed the job?

  “The Preor…” he frowned and looked away.

  “Skala?”

  “Droze and Luuvak were taken into custody and then the War Master vowed that—“

  Skala’s words were silenced by their arrival at the command deck. And the shouts from within. He pressed the palmpad to part the doors and they emerged into… chaos.

  No, not chaos, her mate on a rampage.

  Taulan stood in the center of the massive space, his skin a deep purple and covered in scales. His shoulders were broader, thicker and more heavily muscled. His legs stretched his pants near to bursting and his hands were tipped with deadly claws. The massive screen at the other end of the room was split down the middle, two males glaring at her mate.

  Then their words filtered through.

  “My female still sleeps! A full turning since your dragonlets attacked and she still recovers!” Taulan roared.

  The male on the left sneered while the one on the right snorted.

  “So you kill worthy males? You, wingless bastard, dared—“

  “At least she still breathes and lives to taint your line!”

  Taulan inhaled and released the breath slowly, his body expanding even further. “If you dare speak another word—“

  “What shall you do Taulan sen Pavon? Shall you murder me as you murdered my son?”

  Lana sucked in a harsh breath and pressed a hand to her stomach. Had he killed for her?

  “I would be justified to end the life of a male who dared touch my mate. Justified!” Now, every word was a ship-shaking roar.

  “You. Lie,” the left Preor hissed.

  “Say the words again, Councilman, and I will forget who you are and rip the words from your lips.” The banked violence in her mate’s tone told her he’d do it, too.

  Lana took a step forward, intent on ending the verbal battle before it escalated further. She wasn’t sure of the details, but these two had to be the fathers of the dead males. Dead males Taulan destroyed? Did she care? She shifted her weight and swallowed her groan of pain. No, maybe she didn’t. Not when the agony throbbed through her veins like a burning blaze.

  A soft, barely-there touch from Skala had her hesitating and she quirked a brow in question. When he remained quiet—not attempting to stop her—she returned to her path.

  Her steps were silent as she approached, the males around her slowly coming to notice her presence. But her mate did not. Not yet. She didn’t stop until she stood at his side and a soft touch to his arm was all it took to garner his attention. He looked to her with a snarl on his lips that quickly disappeared beneath the stark relief in his gaze.

  “Shaa kouva.” Large arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she sank into his tight hold. “Shaa kouva,” his warm breath fanned her cheek.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Are we not worth your attention, War Master?”

  A deep growl vibrated through her and she stroked his chest in an attempt to sooth him. It didn’t work. Instead, Taulan released her and pushed her behind him so he could face off against the two males. “You will speak with respect within Lana’s presence or I will remove your ability to speak!” The bellow shook the area.

  “This is the reason for their deaths? This useless—“

  “End the comm,” Taulan shouted and the Comm Warrior gave her mate a doubtful look.

  Lana nodded, trying to encourage him, not scare him beyond belief.

  “You can’t—“

  “How dare—“

  The screens blinked out. They could and they did dare.

  Strong, firm arms wrapped around her, engulfing her in his scent and sweetness. She felt nothing but safe in those massive arms, any hint of unease vanishing with the embrace. “I thought I would lose you,” he whispered.

  “I’m harder to kill than that. It was just a few cracked ribs.”

  His lips brushed the top of her head
and then her temple, soothing her with nothing more than those barely-there kisses. “You are precious and vulnerable.” He released her and placed a finger beneath her chin, encouraging her to lift her gaze to his. “And you’re mine.”

  Then he kissed her. Not sweetly or softly but with intent. He plundered her mouth with his passion, suckling and stroking as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He possessed her fully, taking and taking while she whimpered and moaned. She clung to him, fingers curled around his biceps in an attempt to remain upright. Despite her pain, her body reacted instantly, nipples hardening and pussy heating with the need for touch. For his touch, his caress, his… love.

  Yes. Maybe not now, not right that second, but someday. At the moment, she was more concerned about her injuries, the dead bodies, and the Preors from the screen. She pulled from his kiss, slowly easing it until their passion simmered. “What’s going on, Taulan?”

  He huffed and then sighed. “Come, shaa kouva. Let us retire and I… I shall tell you.”

  15

  Taulan could not figure out who he wished to kill first. The Healing Master, Skala, or the sires of Droze and Luuvak. Then there were all the males he passed as he strode down the corridors, Lana secure in his arms. One such Third Warrior’s gaze lingered on her body a moment too long and he bared his fangs with a drawn out hiss.

  “Avert your eyesss.” Or he would claw them out.

  Lana nuzzled his chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Shaa kouvi…”

  He shuddered, not believing he got a chance to hear those words from Lana once more. When he’d left medical and sought Droze and Luuvak… He hadn’t been sure he would be able to return. Murder, destruction, and death were all on his mind.

  He would end them. End the Vender line with Droze’s passing and cripple Luuvak’s family.

  But when he’d arrived at the holding cells they’d—

  “Taulan?” Lana’s murmur was like a soft caress.

  “Here, shaa kouva. We’re almost to our suite.” If she was well enough to rise and travel from medical to the command deck on her own two feet, she was well enough to heal in their rooms.