Rendan (Scifi Alien Dragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 4) Page 14

  “He asked about you.”

  Of course he would. The Knowing had already informed her they’d go crazy without each other. She wasn’t just physically attracted to him. She was biologically driven to be with Rendan. Forever.

  “You weren’t the only one hurt, Carla.” Grace chastised her, tone grim and sharp.

  Carla knew that. She remembered clinging to Rendan, the struggle to stop, the other dragon’s assistance, and then… blood. Blood and pain and she knew it hadn’t all been her own. A spear of regret and worry struck her heart, sliding quickly through the muscle.

  Her eyes stung, tears blurring her vision as she imagined what her mate had done to save her. “Is he okay? Can he still fly?”

  She hated that part of her wished he couldn’t. As precious as the ability was to the Preor, as long as Rendan could fly, he could fight with the other warriors.

  “Yes.” Grace reached for Carla’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you explain what’s going on? I can see that pushing him away hurts you, but you’re still doing it. Why?”

  Carla released a rueful chuckle, groaning when a throbbing ache followed. Maybe she wasn’t as healed as she thought. She gripped her ribs, freezing in place while she worked through the pain.

  “What the hell?” she groaned.

  “The ryaapir platforms have the data on human biology, but Chashan was concerned about healing you completely since it hasn’t been tested before. There’s bruising, but nothing is broken or at risk of tearing or re-opening.”

  Yeah, she just bet he was “concerned.” Asshole.

  “Right.” She breathed through the last roll of dull pain.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on, Carla? This silent treatment is bullshit,” Grace snapped and Carla recognized the tone in the woman’s voice. It was one she’d often used when they both worked at East Fortuna Medical.

  In the past, Carla would cringe beneath the woman’s anger. But that was the past. The new Carla was too tired to be a pushover and too sore to be nice. They—both Kozav and Grace—had been asking her the same questions for two days. She was ready to answer.

  “You wanna know? Fine,” she snarled right back, pushing herself fully upright while she slipped her legs over the side of the bed. A girl couldn’t be intimidating while lying down. “My mate, the one who gave me this magical gift of the Knowing,” she didn’t think it was very magical at the moment, “took it upon himself to get an alien vasectomy. Then, he didn’t tell me about it. Then, he informed Chashan it was at my request. And what happened when I came to work?” she curled her lip. “The amazing Healing Master Chashan showed me what it’s like to be treated with honor and respect.” Carla flushed, the memories of Chashan’s distaste ringing through her mind. “Then I fell off a building!”

  Yelling hurt but it felt damn good to get the words out, to unleash her anger and frustration.

  “Fell?” Grace quirked a brow, not even reacting to her rant. That was disappointing. “Or pushed?”

  “Huh?” Carla frowned. Even that hurt and she wondered if Chashan left some pretty bruises on her face as well.

  “I…” Carla paused. No one had asked her what happened. They just ignored what caused her injuries and worked at repairing them. And until now, she’d been too injured to talk about how she’d ended up half-dead in medical. “I went looking for Rendan and ran into…” She tugged on the memories, luring them from the hidden reaches in her mind. “Ballakin. He told me Rendan was on the roof but I wasn’t allowed up there because of the removal of the balustrade.”

  “But?”

  “But he led me up a back entrance.” The dark had scared the hell out of her, but she’d been fueled by righteous indignation. A girl could get over a lot when she was mad. “And left me a couple floors down because he didn’t want to be caught.” She recalled the sun being bright and searing her eyes when she’d pushed the last door open and stepped onto the roof. “Except no one was there. I went to peer over the edge—I thought that maybe the warriors were just out of sight—and then I…”

  There was the quick glance down and then a shuffle, a scrape of a shoe on pebble-strewn stone. Then nothing but air. “Someone pushed me.”

  “I thought so.” Grace gave her a small smile.

  Carla shook her head, the memory replaying once more. She’d peered down, cursing herself for getting so close to the edge and then… “It was a man…” She held up her hand, examining its small size. “His hand was big. Strong.”

  “Anything else?”

  Another negative. “No, I don’t remember anything other than falling—being afraid.”

  And then Rendan saved her. Rendan who’d lied and—She cut off that line of thinking before it had a chance to sink its claws into her mind.

  “Do they know who it was?” Who had tried to kill her?

  “No,” Grace shook her head. “Security footage was erased. The last time you appeared on the vids was with Ballakin.”

  That name made her shiver and shudder. “Him.”

  Grace nodded. “Yeah, he’s not a favorite, but he’s a good warrior even if he is an asshole. His story lines up with yours.”

  “Oh.” Well, that was good, she supposed. She cleared her throat body thrumming with a sudden need to move. As if it sensed something her mind had yet to understand. “When can I get out of here?”

  “I can call Rendan—“

  “No.” Carla wasn’t ready to talk to him—see him—not yet.

  “Carla,” Grace sighed. “Preor aren’t like human men.”

  “They lie easy enough,” she drawled and Grace winced.

  “Okay, point taken. But what I mean is, their entire existence—their happiness—depends on human women, and Rendan…” Another sigh. “Something happened in his past—something Kozav won’t reveal—that makes him crave a mate, but deathly afraid of having dragonlets.” Grace gently squeezed her hand. “Talk to him. I’m not saying what he did was right, but you’ll never figure it out if you guys don’t talk.”

  “I hate it when you’re right,” Carla grumbled.

  “So you know I’m right when I tell you to give him a chance to explain. The Preor are honorable men—“

  “They prefer male.”

  “—but they’re still men. They’re not perfect just because they arrived on a space ship and are sexy as sin. They have flaws.” Another gentle squeeze. “Give him a chance to apologize and beg your forgiveness.”

  Carla quirked a brow, ignoring the new ache that came with the movement. “Beg?”

  Grace shrugged. “He’ll probably growl a lot and then fuck you like it’s the end of the world. It’s their way of saying ‘sorry.’”

  Carla grinned at that, wondering if she might just enjoy his apology.

  But not before they talked things out. Carla had been a pushover for her father. She wouldn’t be one for her mate.

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “Where can I find him?”

  “You—and your new guards—will find him at Ujal Station Tau. Several of the men went over there to review Ujal security footage on the off chance that their cameras caught something.”

  Carla heard every word, but she was more concerned about the “new guards” portion of her friend’s statement. “New guards?”

  “Yup.” Grace spun and headed to the small door of Carla’s room. “Be right back.”

  Door? She vaguely remembered Rendan bellowing that his mate would be placed behind walls so no others could view her beauty. She would have snorted—again—if she didn’t know it’d hurt so badly.

  Grace was back quickly, as promised, two Preor males in tow, both of whom she recognized—Zadri and Luzan. Zadri because he wanted to fight with Rendan in the Trials of Syh and because he’d been the other dragon.

  “It was you,” she whispered. “You saved us.”

  Zadri’s tanned skin darkened to a deep red. “I helped a brother warrior and his mate.” He shrugged. “Nothing more.”


  Carla grinned. “For a person who wouldn’t be sitting here if you hadn’t helped, I think it’s a bit more than nothing.”

  He shrugged again and Carla slipped from the platform, making her way slowly across the small space. She reached out and grabbed Zadri’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.”

  Carla turned to Luzan, one of Taulan and Lana’s guards. “Any chance you can tell me where to find your offense master?”

  Apparently, they couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Carla wasn’t sure, but in the end, it didn’t matter because the result was the same. She stood on the boardwalk behind Preor Tower while one of her guards kept watch, the other disappearing to locate her mate.

  Funny how he’d been fired up (heh) to speak to her and now he had to be dragged to her side.

  Carla shook her head and sighed, exhausted both mentally and physically. The cool beach winds soothed her, washing away some of the tension in her body, but plenty still remained.

  “Are you well, Carla?” Zadri’s voice sliced through the breeze, reaching out to her from the shelter of the tower’s overhang.

  The briny winds and damp air were physically uncomfortable for Preor. The salt stung and dried their scales while water on their wings was almost a sure death depending on the volume and where they were. Flying over the ocean and get hit by a wave? They’re going down and not getting up again.

  Besides, she was still within sight. A mere fifty feet away and in full view of Zadri.

  She turned away from the railing and waved at him, shouting to be heard over the wind. “I’m fine!”

  Movement to her left snared her attention and she spied a flow of women leaving the nearby building. Human females of all colors, shapes, and sizes went in and out of the low structure—Preor Choosing Station Tau. The “official” meeting space for Preors and human women. Where both races could come together and see if they experienced the Knowing. She wasn’t sure if any—or how many—Preor had found mates in that way.

  Then the one person she didn’t want to see actually appeared.

  Ballakin.

  Her stomach churned, the unease she always experienced around him twisting and squeezing her belly. Her fight or flight responses kicked in, demanding she flee already. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and goose bumps rose along her arms. Adrenaline filled her veins in a rush of blood and fear, and she struggled to breathe through the rising panic.

  It was as if her body knew something her mind had yet to acknowledge, and she wondered if he was the one who’d pushed her over the edge of the building. Had he followed her? Crept after her and…

  He drew closer with each long stride, wings ruffling with every step and rotted green scales slithering across his shoulders. As a primary defense warrior, he should have better control than that. The twitching wings were difficult for even the strongest Preor to master, but the scales… Even a young sixth warrior could suppress the tell-tale slither of color over their skin.

  Which meant Ballakin was consumed with overwhelming emotions—ones that made his body betray him.

  And that evidence caused her unease to skyrocket. To rise higher and higher until she thought she’d collapse in a heap of panic and fear.

  But she wouldn’t back down. It didn’t matter if he closed in on her. It didn’t matter that the old Carla would stare at the ground and cower before that heavy anger. She was an all-new Carla. One who’d had enough of Preors doing whatever the hell they wanted when it came to human women. Hell, when it came to anything, it seemed.

  New Carla wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, New Carla turned to face him fully, set her jaw in a hard line, straightened her spine and tipped up her chin. He continued his approach, stare darkening the closer he moved, and she fought the instinctive desire to quail. Okay, the “go fuck yourself” part would hopefully come later. Probably when he was gone because she suddenly decided she’d do baby steps.

  Really, really baby steps.

  He narrowed his eyes, gradually slowing before coming to a stop in front of her. His glare slid up and then down her body, his heavy stare pushing against her like physical hands.

  It was as if he hated that she’d survived and another block of suspicion plopped into place inside her mind. He hated her—she was certain of that. But why?

  Though, really, did it matter? No. No, it didn’t.

  “Ballakin,” she acknowledged him first, slicing through the silence with her voice.

  “You lived.” His attention flicked to her right—to where Zadri stood stiffly at attention. He was uneasy around Ballakin as well, it seemed. “And others nearly died.”

  Carla’s breath caught. They’d told her that Rendan and Zadri had been injured, but nothing the ryaapir units hadn’t been able to handle. She remembered the snaps and cracks, the overwhelming scent of blood… the fact that they hadn’t come from her.

  Had Grace and Chashan lied? She could believe it of Chashan. He’d been disgusted with her since the moment he’d heard Rendan’s story. Grace on the other hand…

  “Next time you wish to take your own life, ensure you are truly alone.” He smirked, the half-smile filled with a combination of loathing and contempt.

  “Considering I didn’t jump off the roof, but was pushed, I’ll ignore your suggestion.” Look at her being snarky.

  “Were you?” He quirked a brow. “And this… attacker… has been located?”

  She pressed her lips together, hating that she was such a bad liar. “No, not yet.” She tilted her head, her suspicions running forward and refusing to be blunted. “But you know that since you’re not under arrest.”

  He raised both eyebrows then. “I see. You believe I would dishonor myself in such a way? That I would ever harm a female?”

  His expression was right—that “sugar wouldn’t melt in my mouth” look. But the underlying tone of loathing remained.

  “Yes.” She could do this. She could confront him. She’d been prepared to argue with Rendan and he was her mate. She could fight with a complete stranger easily enough.

  -ish.

  “Yes, I think you could and did.” Carla’s voice was hard as she spoke. “I think you hate me for some reason and decided killing me was your answer. I don’t know what your problem is, but I haven’t done anything to anyone.”

  “Have you not?” He curled his lip, the small lift just enough to bare a single, long fang.

  His dragon’s fang.

  Okay, maybe backing off a little would be a good idea. She didn’t want to deal with a Preor so close to shifting. Carla versus a two-hundred-ton dragon? Yeah, the dragon would win.

  “No, I don’t believe I have.” Her spine lost some of its strength and she hated that her voice wavered at the beginning of the sentence. “I don’t know anyone.”

  “You know your mate.” He stepped forward, towering over her, and she eased back. “You have your mate’s ear.” Another step and she swallowed hard, shuffling farther away. “Your mate who denied me not once, but twice. Your mate who banished me from the Trials of Syh.”

  But that’d all been before she even met Ballakin. She shook her head. “I didn’t…”

  “I heard you,” he leaned down, hissing once the last word left his lips. The low, threatening sound sliced through the wind buffeting them, sliding right into her heart. Her heartbeat doubled, fight or flight urging her to run already, dammit. “I heard you tell your mate of your feelings and he denied me. You. A female. A human.”

  Well, at least she was hated first for her sex, not her race.

  “I didn’t—“

  “Liar.”

  Carla shook her head, putting more distance between them. Or trying to. “No—“

  He reached for her, claw-tipped fingers curled and tense. Ready to grasp her arms.

  “I cannot allow you to stand between me and—“ Ballakin stiffened and whirled away from her, his body spinning so quickly his movements were a rotted green blur.

  Shouts from Preor Choo
sing Station Tau drew her attention as well. She spied a pregnant woman, the curved mound of her belly stretching the thin t-shirt she wore. She slowly fell to the ground, other women rushing to her side, but her gaze was only for Carla.

  No, she followed the stranger’s line of sight, Ballakin. Were they…

  By the skies or God or whatever deity rocked the world, she hoped not. She wouldn’t wish a mating to Ballakin on anyone.

  “Carla?” Zadri’s anxious voice drew her gaze from the crowd near PCST and she realized he was already half-way to the downed woman. His body was tense, muscles bunching beneath his skin, and she sensed his need assist the stranger.

  Carla waved at him and took a step forward to follow. “Go! I’m right behind you!”

  Except she wasn’t—she couldn’t. Not when large, claw-tipped fingers wrapped around her bicep. The razor-sharp tips sliced through her thin shirt, pricking her skin and sending a jolt of pain along her nerves.

  “No, you are not.” Another long hiss followed, Ballakin’s grip tightening.

  She pulled against his hold, those claws digging deeper into her flesh, but she shoved the rising hurt away. Zadri wasn’t a trained healer and she didn’t hear the tell-tale sirens of human medics on their way. Even if they called Chashan, she was still closer than any other emergency responder.

  This was her job, what she did.

  “What are you—“

  He took a step toward the walkway that led to the beach. “Come.”

  His words and tone were right, but he stumbled into the railing, gripping the metal bar with his free hand while he shook his head.

  “Come,” he rasped and pushed off the rail. “Now.”

  He shuffled forward then, steps no longer strong and sure. He kept turning his head, his gaze going from the pathway to the downed woman and back. Carla’s attention bounced toward the dazed female as well, noting the dizziness and way she swayed even as she sat up.

  She recognized those symptoms—a person’s reaction to…

  “Is it the Knowing? Is she your—“