Jarek (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 1) Page 3
“Prince Tave fa’Vyl-Zeret, by Earth treaty I lay claim to Melissa Walker as Kouva to Jarek sen Claron, now Jarek joi Melissa, War Master to the Preor Third Fleet.”
4
“Prince Tave fa’Vyl-Zeret, by Earth treaty I lay claim to Melissa Walker as Kouva to Jarek sen Claron, now Jarek joi Melissa, War Master to the Preor Third Fleet.”
Each syllable pulsed inside Melissa, a resounding boom plucked her nerves and sent them reverberating against each other. They throbbed in time with her heart and spread, tendrils of warmth creeping into every part of her. Heat. So much heat. They called it the dragon’s fire, the way a Preor female reacted when she met her mate. Her blood—body—prepared itself for her mate’s claiming. They would be tied for all eternity—a Preor’s life never ending until…
Hold up. Wait a minute.
Melissa twitched in Jarek’s hold, fighting the mating heat attempting to shove her into his bed. Well, his pants anyway, the bed was optional.
The thud of his boots echoed off the metallic flooring, the sounds bouncing off the solid walls of the passageway. A chorus of similar pounding followed and she figured his warriors followed in their wake. She could understand the need for continued protection, especially considering the tense situation with the Ujal.
Which meant they’d have an audience while she put the brakes on the whole mess.
“Wait a minute.” She wiggled again. “Let’s hit pause for a second. Brakes. We need brakes. Can we get brakes? Pump ’em a little so they don’t lock up on us?”
“We will be in our quarters in a moment.”
“Look, there is no ‘our’ in this situation.” She wasn’t gonna panic. Panic? That feeling she was feeling—and wasn’t that so descriptive—had her heart fluttering in an uneven beat. Jarek grunted. Grunting was not an answer. It was… a grunt. She twitched again, wincing when her injury pulled and a bolt of pain shot through her. The scar was tender since Reesa spent time pounding on it and moving made it worse. “I mean it. Slow down.”
“No.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
The guy was way too literal. “I mean it. We need to stop. You can’t just take me from my people—”
“They were never your people. The Preor are your people now.” His response was immediate and she sucked in a rough breath.
The Preor… The Ujal were never… She’d only been with the Ujal royal family for a year, but they’d become everything to her. After what her brother had done, the way everyone else abandoned her, the Ujal had become her world. She’d dedicated herself to caring for Theresa and forming a bond with her ex-sister-in-law’s new family—Nessa, Erun, and Tabitha.
Now Jarek denied them in a handful of words.
“Put me down.” The constant throbbing of sensual heat tinged with pain turned into stabs of freezing sensation. “Now.”
“We are almost to my—”
Melissa fought the Knowing—against the need to find the nearest flat surface and the way his thoughts matched hers. She jerked in his hold, hissing with the lightning bolt of pain. She tore her arms free and kicked her legs, forcing him to drop her to the deck. She landed with a grunt, bones jarring and another spear of agony zinged up her spine. She pushed past the ache and tried to focus on her task. She needed to breathe for a moment, inhale air that didn’t come straight from Jarek’s body.
“Are you damaged?” His roar coupled with the fury in his yellowed eyes told her the question was more about whether she was an idiot and wasn’t really related to whether she’d hurt herself.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. When he reached for her, she recoiled and scrambled backward until she rested out of reach. Her skin screamed at the loss of his touch, but she ignored the ache that assaulted her. The Knowing slipped through her mind in a floating loop, giving her knowledge she wasn’t ready for. She didn’t want to accept the constant flow slipping from Jarek to her. She knew it was a second-hand feed due to the nature of a Preor-human mating. At least, that’s what she assumed since she didn’t actually have Preor blood. Before this moment, it’d all been supposition.
If a human and Preor matched.
If the Knowing initiated with the couple.
If the tie between the male and female was strong enough to support a mental connection.
Yeah, well, all of the ifs were true, only what she was fed felt blunted and half-formed. Their tie was strong, but she didn’t have the genetic memories he was born with. Which led to another if.
If they matched, the Preor would inject the female with Preor DNA.
She was not a petri dish prepared to grow little Preor cells no matter what treaty Earth signed. She hadn’t come to the conference for the chance of meeting one of the aliens and becoming a mate. She came because she wanted to see Earth from space and Rina and Tave needed someone to watch over Reesa. Even more, they felt it was important for the Preors to see a happy Ujal-human couple complete with a youngling.
Hope, Tave said. The Preors needed to witness the joining to feel hope.
Just because Melissa matched with Jarek did not mean she—they—became the race’s hope. She did not sign up to be Miss Hope of America, thankyouverymuch.
They wanted it? They could go down to Earth and find a woman named Hope for all she cared.
With the distance came slight relief from the barrage and she breathed a bit easier. Unfortunately, the Knowing didn’t stop coming. It merely slowed. It urged her to return to Jarek’s arms, to walk into his hold and let him cradle her close. It told her… why releasing him was a bad idea.
Too bad. Preors might fling themselves into mating-land, but humans didn’t. “I’m capable of walking.”
“Kouva,” his tone held a warning and Jarek narrowed his eyes as he reached for her once more.
She slid backward on her ass to put more space between them and then rolled to her feet. “Look, I get what’s going on here,” —sorta— “but we need to slow this down.”
Jarek’s glare deepened and he took a step nearer, fury etched in every line of his body. “You are my kouva. My beloved, my mate.”
Melissa swallowed hard and breathed through the pressure of the Knowing. “I understand what you’re saying.”
She was still stuck on the sorta.
“Then you know we must—”
“Melissa!” The shout was followed by a grunt and then she caught a flash of black just before one of the warriors at the back of the pack disappeared from sight. “Are you well?”
Rhal. His mate Cara was going to be pissed if he came home battered and bruised. Then again, Rhal would be thankful because he was fond of Cara kissing it and making it better. The males had no sense of discretion and talked way too often and way too loudly about their personal lives.
“Yes!” Mostly.
“I will be with you momentarily.” Rhal spoke as if he was merely walking down a crowded corridor and not fighting his way to the front of a line of Preor’s finest.
And how did she know they were the finest? The fucking Knowing and her connection to Jarek.
The press of the tie pulsated around her, drowning her in the overwhelming sensations—urges.
Touch him.
Taste him.
Love him.
Run. That was a real feeling, one that warred against the psychically driven need to stay with Jarek.
Run.
Yes. She needed space. Needed to just step away for a moment and then she could come back. After she centered herself. After she came to terms with all of… this.
Rhal burst past the last line of warriors with an elbow to one male’s nose and a punch to the other’s. She was surprised he hadn’t busted out his blades, but then again, no one wanted a war between the races. Ujal battling Preor would only mean bad things for Earth. Considering both races needed something from humans, playing nicely benefited all.
“Melissa?” Rhal smiled, his midnight eyes dancing with pleasure and she knew he was in his element.
The only complaint the envoy would hear later was from Erun because he missed out on the violent fun. Rhal lifted his arm and threw something at her. “Be thinking fast.”
Think fast. He still hadn’t quite gotten human idioms yet.
Melissa stuck her arm up and plucked the small metal device from the air. She recognized the shape and purpose, but was surprised as hell he’d managed to sneak it aboard. The entire group agreed to leave both Ujal and Earth tech on the planet, traveling through mechanical means only.
“Use it.”
Use it?
Jarek’s massive wings spread, blocking the corridor—and Rhal—from view. Effectively capturing her. His anger beat at her, a constant barrage of fury battling desire. Lust. Bloodlust. Desire for her.
Use it.
She just needed a second to breathe non-Preor air. At least, that’s what she told herself when she pressed the device to her chest. When her finger hovered over the smooth surface. When she brushed the tip across the alien metal.
And as she used it, she heard Jarek’s roar.
5
Jarek’s roar shook the ship, the entire mass of metal trembling in space and jarring every occupant. His men stared at him wide-eyed, their wings trembling with fear.
His warriors should hold fear close in their hearts. Jarek was not a male to be crossed. Ever.
He snarled and glared at the black-eyed Ujal, mouthwatering for a taste of Ujal blood in payment for helping Melissa escape him. No one should come between a male and his female once the Knowing struck.
All Preor knew this. All Ujal should as well if they’d read the materials provided. To separate them now? After the first touch?
The Ujal committed murder unless Jarek found her quickly.
“You dared?” He curled his lips back, baring his dragon’s fangs. His warriors retreated, giving them space for the coming battle. “You stole—”
“I stole nothing. She was not yours,” Rhal’s rumble reached out to him and Jarek sneered at the male.
“She has always been mine.” From the moment of her birth, she belonged to him. She just did not know it. “You will tell me where she is. Now.”
“No.” The Ujal’s response was immediate.
“Very well.” He tipped his head in acknowledgment and the other male narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He should be suspicious. For Jarek acknowledged the words, but did not accept them as truth.
They could not contain him. Not with their bodies nor ship’s restraints. Nothing—no one—would keep Jarek sen Claron from his mate.
Jarek reached behind him, palms finding his war blades with ease. They were normally hidden by his folded wings, but he had a use for them now. The swords whispered as they slipped free of their leather sheaths, the metal sliding along the aged katoth skin. He caressed the handles, palms settling into the worn grooves. He’d had the blades since he was no more than twenty years old and they’d seen him through many battles. While others purchased new weapons as they rose through the ranks, Jarek kept hold of his first set. He retained the two gleaming swords that saw him through training, countless wars, and numerous promotions. They’d tasted the blood of countless Preor and alien species. Now they would sample Ujal.
Others of his rank no longer wore war blades. The depended on others to keep them safe. Jarek would never be without protection. No one would take a blade meant for him and he would always take back whatever was stolen from him. Such as Melissa.
The Ujal’s gaze flicked to Jarek’s swords, the two-feet-long shining and sharpened metal he would soon plunge into his opponent. He would not kill Rhal, but he would discover Melissa’s location. If that required bloodletting, then he would do so. He flicked his wrists, forged blades swinging through the air. Let the Ujal see what he faced, let him see the razor sharp edges and polished surfaces. They were both beautiful… and deadly.
“This is your last opportunity, Ujal. Where is my mate?” Smoke unfurled from his nose, dragon’s breath staining the air. He was anxious to find her, anxious to bind with her. The Knowing continued to feed him information, pulsing knowledge through his mind. It ached with the rush and he knew nothing would bank that pain but Melissa. Her touch, her presence, would be enough to soothe him. The thought of needing soothing reminded him his human mate suffered as he suffered now.
Unacceptable.
Rhal shook his head and curled his fingers into tight fists. Then he relaxed them slowly, easing the tension. Yes, he’d relaxed, but he remained prepared. They were both poised for attack, gazes missing nothing as they sized each other up. Rhal had once been the Ujal king’s assassin, but he knew the male no longer killed for his monarch and hadn’t for quite some time. Out of shape. Possibly slow. He was a sea dweller and he did not imagine the male would do well on land. But Jarek would not underestimate his foe.
“You quoted the treaty, but the treaty also states the humans must be willing.” Rhal tilted his head to the side, his eyes bleeding full black. “She ran from you. That does not seem willing.”
“She is mine,” he hissed, grip tightening on his blades as he fought to retain control over his body. The killing urge overtook him, filling his blood with the need for carnage. He would destroy all that lingered before him.
He was Jarek joi Melissa. Male. Preor. War Master.
“No.”
Jarek decided he’d heard the word for the last time. He jolted forward, arm raised and sword poised to strike the Ujal. Not a killing blow, but painful nonetheless.
Rhal ducked and countered with a fist. It was a blow easily absorbed and he quickly returned the strike, changing his grip so the sword was perpendicular to his arm and giving him use of his fist. Rhal took the hit with a grunt and returned with a kick easily deflected.
Jarek would not be defeated in hand-to-hand combat. The battle began in earnest. Punches traded, kicks returned, snarls and grunts filling the air. His blades tasted blood once, then twice. Rhal stumbled back, but Jarek saw through the movement. He stumbled into one of Jarek’s warriors, spinning the surprised male and snatching a set of blades for himself.
Jarek would punish the warrior for being so clumsy. Later.
For now he had to deal with a male familiar with blades. Metal clashed, Rhal responding to each thrust and parry, each arching swing and blunted strike. Sparks flew from the metal, raining lights through the air, decorating the staid ship with the glow. His warriors remained silent as they watched. At least they were smart enough to remain quiet while he battled the Ujal.
“Where did you send her?” Jarek snarled. Thrust. Block. Thrust. Kick.
“She is not your concern.” Rhal growled, catching Jarek’s downward strike and then shoving him back.
“She is my mate.” He swung—once, twice, three times—and backed the male into the wall.
Rhal snorted. “You cannot—”
“Move!” The deep voice boomed through the hallway and his warriors were quick to part for the speaker.
Yet Jarek did not relent. Rhal had information he sought and none would stop him. When the Ujal ducked and slipped along the floor between Jarek’s legs, he quickly jumped up and used his wings to keep him free of the male’s glistening sword. He hit the deck with a heavy thud and went on the offensive once more. He attacked, snarling his demands as he attempted to subdue his opponent.
Yet he’d underestimated the Ujal. Rhal was quick and as fierce as tornado wind whipping at him. The male danced in and out of reach, both of them inflicting pain on the other. His body bled freely, some injuries deeper than others, but he imagined Rhal damaged him as little as possible. Since Jarek did the same. He wanted information, not death.
Movement to his right along with a growl and another snarled move announced the prince’s arrival.
“Jarek, what is the meaning of this?” Prince Tave’s tone told Jarek the male would not be denied. “Rhal,” he snapped. “Stand down.”
Rhal backed down, taking a large step back, but he did not relinquish the blade
s nor relax. Jarek found himself doing the same.
More movement to his other side and he spied Evuklar. “War Master Jarek?”
Jarek spoke to Tave first. “Your human Melissa is my mate. My female.” He ignored Evuklar’s gasp of surprise and instead turned his attention to Tave, then the other Preor at the male’s back. The prince had some balls, as the humans said, for walking through a company of Preors while battle need roared in their veins. And he was alone, no other guards surrounding him in the confined space. “And this male,” he gestured toward Rhal. “Gave her the means to flee.”
The fact she wanted to get away from him burned in Jarek’s belly.
“War Master…” Evuklar began and Jarek grunted so his friend would continue. “The Knowing?”
“Yes.” The flutter of wings from the males nearest to him showed their excitement. Hearing of others joining with a human female was not the same as seeing proof for themselves. Their leader experienced a Knowing with a human female. The word would quickly spread.
And just as quickly, so would the anger some harbored about the mission.
“Yes,” he leveled his gaze on his warriors. “I experienced the Knowing with a human female. Melissa who arrived with the Ujals is my mate.”
“You cannot claim a female without agreement,” Tave interrupted.
“Earth treaty states Preor will not approach any female unless she is willing, though it also states Preor laws will supersede Earth’s. By Earth treaty and Preor law, I can claim a mate upon first sensing. As it has always been on Preor.”
“Your people would force yourselves on humans?”
Jarek frowned. “It cannot be force. The Knowing binds us. We will know all there is to know of each other. Every thought. Every feeling.”
“Through the Knowing.” Tave pinched the bridge of his nose. “What if she doesn’t get this Knowing?”
He grunted. “She suffers from it already. She called me shaa kouvi. It is ‘my beloved’ in my language. She would not know the words if the Knowing did not visit her.”