Rendan (Scifi Alien Dragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 4) (7 page)

“On my honor as a healer,” Chashan pressed a fist to his chest—a Preor salute. “He will live and will rise from the
ryaapir
without assistance within four hours. He will be weakened and his muscles will need time to become comfortable with his healed bones. That is why he must take at least one
dae
of rest. But you will not lose your mate due to the Trials of Syh, Carla joi Rendan Butler. I swear it.”

P
erhaps it would have been better
had he died during his trial with Argan. Then he would not be suffering through this unending torture.

He would not be surrounded by Carla’s scent, the delicate flavors of her sweet skin or heated musk of her arousal. And she was aroused, his mate desiring him even as she skirted his gaze. A light flush of pink stained her cheeks, the color a stark contrast to her normally pale skin. The Knowing fought to feed him knowledge of humans, the tie sluggish and weak. But it was enough to tell Rendan that his mate was embarrassed.

Why?

He did not know because she would hardly speak more than five words to him. No, four.
“Do you need anything?”
In her husky murmur. Did she not realize what her voice did to him? How her mere presence scraped at his control?

He had woken with her leaning over him, her touch delicate as she wiped his brow with a damp cloth. When she pulled it from his head, he noted its red staining and realized she tended him. She cleaned him as a
dam
would care for a dragonlet…

It’d made him harsh, that connection between his mate and thoughts of offspring. It’d rekindled their argument when he’d stomped off in a huff. Those were Grace’s words when she learned of his actions.

That’d also been before his trial with Argan.

Now he’d spent nearly one full rising in her company and he had another to go. How could he survive? He’d barely lived through the previous day with his sanity intact.

He had been fine while unconscious, but once they returned to Preor Tower, he had been placed in his apartment while Carla went to hers. Then… She opened the doors that separated their suites. The air in their rooms mixed and mingled, bringing him her scent and teasing him with what he could not have. He had spent the evening that way, mind whirling while he imagined Carla at his side, astride him, beneath him.

The early hours had not been much better, her luscious form striding into his apartment. She had not appeared to have suffered as he had during the night—his body yearning to be inside her—but her scent at least told Rendan she was not unaffected. He needed her to crave him as much as he craved her.

It was not a task that could be completed within the walls of Preor Tower, with the door between them that could close as easily as it stayed open. He needed to get her someplace she could not run and hide. Where neither of them could depart. His possessive instincts and need to protect her would not allow him to “stomp off in a huff.”

Rendan was the third fleet’s offense master. He would not be thwarted by a female—his mate. He would use his skills learned over two-hundred thirty-one years and defeat Carla before she realized she was under siege. It would not be the forceful demands that many others attempted. No, he would be
smart
about his approach.

He would be non-threatening. He would appear to be unable to push her for a physical connection and would instead—search for a melding of their minds.

Intimate. Seductive. An approach that would tie them as mates more firmly than if they’d only shared their bodies.

Yes, this plan was good. He let it unfold in his mind, following each thread and playing out different scenarios. He would find the angle that promised the most success.

Then he would pounce. Carefully. Secretly. Before his mate realized he’d sprung his trap.

Excitement surged in his veins, as if he once more planned a raging battle and not a day with his mate. The result was the same no matter the setting—victory and joy. A future that he could embrace without reservation.

No, that was not right. There was still a kernel of unease inside him, a small bit related to his mate and their family.

A family they’d never have.

Which, after their argument, he knew he could not tell her. It would be a secret he’d take with him on his final flight.

His conscience prodded him, making him question whether his choices were the correct approach. Should he pursue Carla while knowing he would lie to her—repeatedly? That he would purposely refuse her all she desired?

His dragon mind twisted and turned, the blood in his veins heating with the discontent in his other half. He had no choice when it came to Carla joi Rendan Butler. He would conquer her fears. He would climb her walls. He would claim her for eternity. And then pray to the skies she did not stay angry for more than a hundred Earth turnings.

The gentle sound of the ocean waves drew his gaze, the sun’s rays streaming through the sliding glass doors that led to the apartment’s balcony. They were not as high as Jarek and Evuklar—those decorated males occupied the top floor—but they were high enough.

High enough to…

Rendan pushed to his feet. He’d stretched and tested his body upon waking in medical and again when he’d finally been drawn from bed by Carla’s fresh scent. He stood now, arms outstretched, wings extended and body tense. He looked inside himself, mentally checking everything over for remaining aches and pains. True, Chashan instructed him to refrain from any trials this day, but he hadn’t said Rendan had to remain tied to a bed.

Though if he could tie his Carla to a bed…

No. He cut the thought off before it could fully form. He would not rush. He would not push. He
would
, however, be at her side. Quietly. Constantly.

Dragon-ly? Now he was adopting the weird speech patterns of some of the human-Preor mates. That did not make the idea any less valid.

He twisted from side to side, stretching his back, flexing his wings, and letting the dragon come forward. His scales rippled over his skin, that hint of his transformation a gentle stroke over his flesh. His joints did not protest to the dragon’s push and his flight lines accepted the expanding of his form. He curled his wings around his body, extending his wing base and encircling himself. If his body protested, it would happen then, as his muscles and tendons were snapped taut with the movement.

There was nothing more than a small ache, a twinge that would be gone the moment he settled into wings and claws.

Yes, his plan would work. His body was tired, but his mind and his heart were willing and prepared, ready to put the ideas into motion.

Rendan padded from his bedroom, intent on locating Carla. Each time they were together,
she
came to
him
. It left him off center and uneasy.

No more.

The apartment’s living room was empty, the kitchen equally so, and he moved to the threshold of Carla’s space. He spotted her with ease, her long blonde hair bouncing and body shaking as she sang along to some Earth song that filled the air. While her attention was elsewhere, he looked his fill, memorizing her lithe movements and easy grace. She was always tense around him and this gave him a better look at her lush form. She flowed from one dance step to the next, her voice rising with the song, and Rendan winced.

His mate, as beautiful as she was, could not sing. But he would not tell her so. Not until they were so tied she could not even think of leaving him.

Carla continued to flit around, towel whipping over the dishes she held before she replaced them in the appropriate cabinet. She’d shyly brought him an early meal but had scampered away before he could invite her to dine with him. That would not happen again. They would spend time together. He would batter down her walls using every tactic he’d learned as an offense master.

She would not be able to resist him.

The song gradually grew softer, a signal the music was coming to an end, and Rendan stepped into her space. Her scent wrapped around him like a seductive blanket and he fought to suppress his surging desire. His cock thickened and hardened, demanding to be released so he could fill his mate.

Not yet.
He did as he’d seen other human males and thumped the bulge of his length.

He nearly crumpled with the pain that followed and decided human males were idiots. He wheezed with the agony, carefully straightening when his mate spun to face him. He pushed away the lingering pain—it hurt more than when he’d nearly had his wing ripped off—and forced a smile to his mouth.

“
Shaa
—“ he silenced that endearment before it could form, though the urge to call her his beloved grew with every breath. “Carla,” he murmured. “Do you have plans this morning?”

First, he would inquire. Act like an attentive male and then bend her to his desires. Carefully. Patiently. Secretively.

“Um…” she pressed her lips together and wrinkled her nose. Her face was so expressive he could almost read her mind. “I was going to clean?”

At least she did not give the “hair washing” excuse. Though her desire to clean was just as preposterous. Her hair—and the apartment—were both spotless.

“Would you like to join me for a time?” He gestured toward the windows, sunlight streaming through the glass. “The sun is bright. The skies are clear. I would like to feel the wind on my wings. It would be good to ‘get out of the house’ and learn of one another. We are mates, Carla, but we are still individual beings. The Knowing ties our bodies, but we must explore our hearts.”

And I want your legs straddling my neck.

But he did not say that aloud.

Carla nibbled her lower lip and he wished to tug it from her mouth and soothe the redness she caused. “Chashan said…”

“That I should take a day for recovery.” He nodded slowly and then grinned. “Chashan is also what humans call a
row-man-tick
at heart. He wished us to spend time together.”

Which was only a half-lie. The healing master
did
want them to spend time together, but Rendan’s primary responsibility was to heal.

So he could participate in even more trials.

An impending task he would not discuss with her. Not while Carla looked as if she’d say yes at any moment.

Rendan padded forward, slowly closing in on his delectable mate. Her blue-eyed gaze scanned his body, her eyes stroking him with invisible hands. Her attention focused on his broad chest, his flat stomach, and the fullness of his
katoth
pants. Her pupils dilated, a sign of her arousal and desire for him. That knowledge nearly had him tossing his plan to the skies and laying her on the kitchen counter, but he restrained himself. Barely.

He had a plan.

He did not stop until mere inches separated them, and then he reached for her, his fingers curled to protect her from his nails. They’d sharpened when he allowed the dragon to push forward and would not be suppressed. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, stroking her hair and then tucking it behind her ear.

“Do you not wish to feel the wind in your hair, little
soma
.”

Carla’s breath caught when the endearment rolled off his tongue and he wondered if she’d object to the love name. “What…”

He cupped her face, thumb sliding over her cheekbone. “I cannot call you what I wish, not while so much is unsettled.” He let his gaze weigh heavily on hers, hoping she saw his desire, could read his mind and know that
kouva
lingered on the tip of his tongue. “But you are so like a small
soma
.” He sought a description, recalling the Preor animal’s image. He was sure the Knowing would give Carla the information had she thought to search for it, but he wanted to provide it himself.

“A
soma
is a small animal on Preor with golden fur. Almost like a smaller version of Earth’s
pan-dah
bear.” He stroked her hair, the strands falling through his fingers. “It appears sweet and petite—vulnerable. A Preor would see the furry animal lazing in a tree and would smile. They are gentle creatures, beautiful and majestic, and just one glance makes you wish you could hold it in your arms for eternity.”

Just as he wished to hold Carla.

“But?” she whispered, her warm breath fanning over his bare chest.

“But they are fiercely territorial and protective—females more so than males. Many who wished to touch and hold a
soma
have lost limbs. When she has found someone she cares for deeply, she will do all she can to protect them.” He kept his gaze trained on her, watching each emotion and thought skirt across her face. “You are my own personal
soma
. The way you reacted to Ballakin…”

Ballakin, the male who’d disobeyed orders and violated the Trial of Syh. It was a violation he’d have to address. Later.

In medical he’d only been half-conscious, but he’d sensed both her fear and determination when speaking with Ballakin. His mate had at once withered and then strengthened during the confrontation.

“Yes, you are my
soma
.” Rendan ached to brush his lips across hers, take a taste of her moist mouth and savor her natural flavors.

But he could not. He must lay his plans and put them into motion first.

“So,
soma
do you wish to feel the wind against your skin?” When she opened her mouth as if to deny him, he pressed a finger to her lips. He did not wish to hear her refuse. “A quick rush of fresh air.”
As I fly us through the skies
. He traced her lower lip with his finger, massaging the plump bit of flesh. “Say yes,
shaa soma
. Say yes.”

Carla’s breath caught, eyes widening, and he waited for her answer.

“Yes.”