Ivoth (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 7) Page 8

  She agreed. “Yes, and it will stay yours. Your aerie,” she murmured. “Your space.”

  Ivoth grunted and repeated the word, yellow eyes on hers. “Mi-ne.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t touching that second claiming and instead focused on healing the warrior before her. “Chashan? What do I do with this?”

  “First, you must obtain a sample of his blood using the ara attached to the side.” At Elle’s raised eyebrow, he explained a little more. “It is a collection device. It will test his blood for any impurities which will assist in calibration.”

  She shook her head. “He was shot, not poisoned.”

  Chashan just shrugged. “It is sometimes one and the same. The past has taught us…”

  “Of course.” The past. The poisoning of the females and dragonlets that decimated their race during the Great Conflict. Poison was the reason the Preor had come to Earth in search of mates.

  Without hesitation, she listened to the rest of his instructions—followed his every order to withdraw the aca carefully and then gather a sample. Which, conceptually, was easy. Actually touching Ivoth and knowingly causing him pain, however…

  “Ivoth, I have to gather blood from your wound, and it might hurt.”

  He gusted out a wave of smoke, the gray swirling around them both, and straightened his back. “Do.”

  Tears pricked her eyes, the slight sting and blurriness blinding her for a moment, and she wiped her face on her forearm. She didn’t have time to cry. “Okay, here we go.”

  And there they went, the aca in her trembling hand. She pressed it to one of the holes in his flesh, careful to only push deep enough for the device to get a good sample. All was well until she pulled it free. It was followed by a gush of red liquid, the flow heavier than others, and she immediately reached for something to stem the current.

  One hand went to the hole, putting pressure on the wound while she blindly scrambled for a nearby blanket. She’d used one earlier in the day and it had to be nearby…

  Her fingers stroked the soft fabric and she fisted the throw. One tug and she had it in her grasp. It was a quick switch, blanket replacing blood soaked hand only for him to bleed through that as well.

  “Chashan!” Panic had her body—and voice—trembling. “He’s—”

  “No,” the snarling denial gave her a renewed surge. “Mi-ne.”

  Stubborn, stupid males.

  “How do you get this thing to heal wounds?”

  “You must first remove the projectile—”

  “He’s going to bleed to death if you don’t tell me how to stop the flow, dammit.” Her conscience was only tweaked a little with the curse. Apparently, Davenports could get used to cursing.

  “A handheld torr is within the side compartment. It is crude and used for battlefield repairs.” Chashan rushed the words out, his voice quavering—anxiety or frustration?

  It didn’t matter. Once more Elle sought an alien device, her wet hands making it difficult to grasp the metal tools. But she finally tugged it free and cradled it in her palm. “Now what?”

  “Hold it over the wound. It will detect and repair damage.” Chashan’s words tripped over each other, his statement rushed and running together.

  Elle immediately went to work, pulling the fabric free and holding the torr above the injury. She ignored the burning in her injured hand, the throbbing behind her eyes, and the overwhelming stench of blood in the air.

  Instead, she focused on the hole, on the raging river that gradually transformed to a meandering trickle. With each passing moment, she prayed to God, to Syh, to any deity that decided to listen, because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if Ivoth was permanently injured because of her.

  “Elle?” Khaza called out to her, and she swallowed hard, fighting against the dryness in her throat.

  “It… the bleeding slowed.” She swallowed again and told herself that it was still dry mouth. She wasn’t choking up from tears. She was pretty sure Davenports didn’t cry. “It slowed.” She lowered her hand and looked past Ivoth to Chashan. “Now explain how to truly heal him.”

  “It would be best,” Chashan took a step forward. “If I—”

  More growling and a new tear formed at the edge of one gash. “No.”

  Now it was her turn to glare… at Chashan. Fear—from the attack and for Ivoth—spurred her sharp tone and furious expression. “Healing Master Chashan joi Khaza, you will remain outside my dwelling and either explain how to use this device or find someone who does. But you will not remain within the walls.”

  The male looked as if he was about to say something, and Elle cut him off before he could try.

  “Argan!” The yellow male immediately stuck his head around the open portal.

  “Yes, Officer Elle?” He generally called her only Elle, but at that moment, it was more a reminder to Chashan than a formality.

  Elle, for all her humanity, was a close friend of Delaney and by extension, her mate—the Defense Master.

  “Cease.” Chashan snarled, and Ivoth snarled back.

  They’d never get any healing done at this rate.

  “If you two don’t stop I’ll murder you both, and then no one will need healing or have a reason to argue!” Elle may have roared the words. It may have even vibrated a little bit of the furniture. It definitely silenced both males. She cleared her throat and pretended she hadn’t just roared like a Preor. “Now then, how do I use the portable ryaapir unit?”

  9

  Ivoth had forgotten the feeling of comfort. Was that what he experienced? The touch on his scales was both cool and warm—a caress that reminded him of a deeply buried memory. Yet it seemed so new and strange at the same time.

  He did not understand how it could be both, but the sensations remained a twisted combination of old and new. He closed his eyes and allowed the strokes to soothe him even as his dragon’s mind demanded he remain alert. Alert in case…

  Ivoth opened his eyes and scanned the room, searching for what put the beast on edge. What kept that feral part of him so vigilant? Vigilant and determined to protect Elle at all costs—even its own life.

  He shook his head, unsure why the beast made a point to push that single thought forward. Die to protect Elle. All females were precious to Preor. Of course he would ensure—

  Die. Pro-tek-t.

  It was insistent—that part of him that was him and yet not.

  “Ivoth?” Elle’s lilting voice filled his ears, her moist breath bathing the injuries to his back. “Are you okay?”

  With her hands on him? Always. But he did not say so. They were not mates. It was dishonorable to share love words with a female who was not his own. “I…” Forming words was difficult, even more so with fangs filling his mouth. “Well.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She knew he lied, but she did not demand the truth. Good. He would hate to lie further.

  Soft murmurs drew his attention, his quad along with Chashan and Khaza lingering outside the condo’s entry. Chashan and Khaza were mated—for many, many turnings now. But his fellow warriors were not. He rumbled, the dragon’s heat rising inside him and gathering in his chest. It did not like unmated males near Elle. It wanted no challengers for her…

  Challengers?

  “Shhh… I’m almost done.” Her scent slid over his scales with those few words, caressing his heated scales and creeping into his flesh. He was overcome with her innate flavors, and he let those aromas comfort him.

  True comfort. He realized that now. Her very touch, smell, comforted him as if his dam held him close and calmed him when he was no more than a dragonlet. Ivoth’s feelings for Elle were nothing like those a dragonlet felt for their dam. His need for her went much further.

  Ivoth snorted and hid his wince, the movement pulling on his healed flesh. “Li-ar.”

  The dragon still refused to relinquish its hold. Fiery eyes remained pinned to the entry, to the males who could look at Elle—his Elle?—with desirous eyes.

  Mi-ne
. The dragon again.

  “Spee-k, Mi-ne.” The dragon spoke, but Ivoth would also like to hear her voice. He’d become used to their talks each morning and their comfortable silences when he returned her to Earth.

  “You didn’t get enough of me talking when you shuttled me around?” She remained at his back, but he heard her smile, the way her voice lifted and the heavy notes lightened.

  Even that tiny bit of relaxation soothed the raging fires of his pain.

  “Spee-k.” Ivoth closed his eyes and let the aches beat him into submission. He drifted in the meandering river of hurt and fought to memorize the feel of her fingers on his scales.

  “Okay, then,” she murmured and fell silent for a moment and then two. He opened his mouth to demand her voice once more, but she quickly filled the quiet.

  “Did I ever tell you about some of Charlie’s abilities? What makes the quasti so unique?”

  He curled his lip. The quasti. He did not like to think of the beast unless it was to imagine him pierced on the end of his sword.

  He did not tell her so—mainly because he could not speak. Instead, he merely grunted and waited to see if she would inflict stories of the quasti on him.

  “You know he can make himself invisible.” Her words lulled him, but the reminder had him snapping his eyes open. He scanned the interior with his gaze, searching for the murderous animal. Something in his posture or tension must have revealed his intention because Elle chuckled. “He’s on my shoulder and fully visible at the moment.”

  Ivoth glanced over his shoulder and met the dark stare of the small animal. He narrowed his eyes, wishing he could spit a single ball of flame and rid the galaxy of one more quasti.

  But he did not. Mainly because he believed he would lose consciousness if he tried.

  “He can also pass through any material. He’s not limited by a cage or net…” The last word was no more than a whisper, and his heartbeat stuttered, felt as if it was squeezed in a tight, punishing fist. “Actually, I’m wrong. They can get through anything but an object made of treilium.” Elle’s touch became feather light, and he sensed he no longer held her full attention. “Like the nets my father’s men had.”

  This time he mentally sneered and remained quiet. He did not wish to draw attention. Instead, he wanted to hear Elle’s thoughts on her sire.

  “He wasn’t always bad, you know? He didn’t always want me…”

  “De-d.” The fire in his gut stirred and surged.

  “Exactly. He was… decent enough until Ben was born.”

  Ivoth grunted. The useless brother. The one who did not speak in defense of Elle.

  His feral nature wished to rid the Earth of such a weak male, both Ben and Elle’s sire.

  “Then it was all about the golden child.”

  Her words held pain even as she smiled as she said them. He turned to meet her stare once more and narrowed his eyes, searching her expression. “Do not un-der-stan-d.”

  “Turn around, you’ll undo all the work I’ve done.” Her small hand nudged his shoulder, and he did as she demanded. He found he was weak as a hatchling around her.

  “Good.” The warmth of the torr bathed him once more. “Golden child means that he was favored by my father, but before he took an interest in Ben… he was such a sweet kid. We hardly ever answered to anyone, which meant we got into every trouble imaginable.”

  She did not seem saddened by the trouble. Did not sound as if she was sorry, either.

  Humans were odd.

  “One time we stole my father’s hovocar when he was out of town and raced it around Tampa.”

  Her laughter sent another rolling wave of her scent over his flesh and his wred—cock—swelled in his katoth pants. Even injured and consumed by pain, Elle aroused him. She was beauty and everything that was good. Even as he reminded her of her sire’s actions, she found joy in the past.

  A small squeak and a low huff came from behind him, and his dragon’s fire rushed forward, the reminder of the quasti bringing his bestial need forward.

  “Hush, you,” Elle chastised him, and he immediately swallowed the gathering ball of flame. He could not set the animal on fire—no matter how much he wished it so. “I only ended up with a scratch. Ben got the worst of it, remember?” More animalistic grumbling from the quasti. She censured the deadly animal? “Anyway, he was all of ten and I’d just turned sixteen. My father thought the nanny was working but she’d been on vacation for two weeks, which meant we were left on our own.”

  Her joy and laughter reached for him, and he held it close. He did not acknowledge that the sharing of emotions was not possible for two beings who were not mated. He wished to revel in the anomaly longer.

  “The driver dropped us off at home and parked the hovocar in the garage but didn’t lock up the activator cabinet before he left.” The warmth from the torr moved, sliding across his back as her healing continued. “So, after midnight, I grabbed the activator to my father’s most recent, most expensive hovocar, and we went for a drive.”

  A soft whine followed by the scrape of teeth interrupted Elle and she sighed. “Yes, I know you had to work very hard that night. But you enjoyed the fair, too. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

  Those chiding words were followed by a laugh, and Ivoth… realized he did not like looking in on their interaction from the outside—as a true outsider. As a male standing alone with no other family…

  But he had no family. He could not forget that fact.

  “Eh-lle?” The dragon remained hesitant to retreat. It liked being in Elle’s company almost as much as Ivoth himself.

  “Sorry. We went to the fair, drove along the coast. It got later and later until almost no one was on the road, and like the idiot kids we were, we decided to see how fast the car could go.” Charlie whined, and it was followed by a soft shhh from Elle. “I’m fine now, aren’t I? And Ben?” Charlie grumbled.

  “Elle?” The dragon released more of him, fangs retreating.

  “We took a turn too fast and flipped. The vehicle kept rolling until we finally collided with the Cole Pharma building. Funny, right? The Daven Bio children nearly killing themselves with Cole Pharma.” The warmth of the torr gradually lessened. “It was the second time Charlie saved my life.”

  Ivoth growled. “You stated you only suffered a scratch.”

  “I lied.” The torr’s glow vanished completely. “And you’re done.”

  10

  Elle focused on sliding the torr back into place and securing the device. The moment the latch closed, she rolled to her feet and darted to the left, scooting around Ivoth while he…

  She glanced at him, his brows furrowed, nose slightly crinkled, and mouth turned down in a frown while he remained kneeling on the floor, confused and distracted.

  Good. She needed him to stay distracted. She’d revealed more than she’d intended and wasn’t prepared for his next question. Or questions.

  She strode across the living room, intent on handing the portable unit back to Chashan. That’d be followed by her encouragement to get Ivoth out of the condo.

  Before she did something stupid like tell him more about her distant past.

  A cool nose nudged her neck, Charlie giving her reassurance the only way he knew how. A tendril of love and support wound its way around her heart, the feeling familiar and welcome. Then he turned his attention to something else, to rubbing that nose and tiny tongue over the scrape on her temple.

  Elle nudged him with her chin, pushing him away. “Thank you sweet boy, but save your strength. My hand is…”

  Mentioning her hand brought the pain in her palm flaring back to life. She stole a peek, not wanting to bring Ivoth’s attention to her continued distress, and grimaced. The redness was back, and a couple of blisters had formed while she’d tried to save her… Well, he was something to her. He wasn’t only a friend; he was more. But he wasn’t much more either because she wasn’t his.

  Movement near the entry drew her attention, pulling
her mind from focusing on the pain to getting the Preor warrior out of her condo and to medical with Chashan. If he lost use of his wings because of her… A knot formed in her throat and she swallowed it down. He wouldn’t lose his ability to fly. He wouldn’t. She just had to keep telling herself that.

  She reached Khaza first, Chashan standing just behind his mate, and Elle handed the device off to the couple. “The bleeding has stopped, but the bullets are still inside him, and I don’t know if they broke anything. If you guys will let the rest of the team through, I’m sure they can help you get him—”

  “No.” The snarl filled her ears at the same time a massive, claw-tipped hand wrapped around her arm and spun her in place. She stared up at the glaring Preor warrior, his face red, eyes practically shooting flames and lip curled to expose a sharp fang. “Not leave.”

  “Ivoth,” she murmured, searching for a soothing tone. “You need to have Chashan look at your wounds.”

  “Not. Leave.”

  It was like dealing with her younger brother when he’d hit the terrible two stage. “You can come right back, but first—”

  “Not.” He even had that stubborn glare that matched Ben’s.

  This time, she stepped closer and rested her uninjured hand on his bare chest, gently stroking his skin with her fingertips. “How about we both go?” Anything for him to agree to medical attention. “We can go down to medical together and—”

  “Not. Safe.”

  “How is it not—”

  She didn’t get to finish because a group of male voices spoke over her. “Agreed.”

  Elle panned her gaze from Ivoth and back to the doorway—the crowded doorway since it was filled with the rest of Ivoth’s team. Each colorful stare was intent on her. Most of them anyway. Argan’s focus was on her hand… and where it still rested on Ivoth’s chest.

  She snatched it away, embarrassment sliding up her spine while the back of her neck and up to her cheeks heated. She pretended she wasn’t as red as a fire hovotruck and spoke to Khaza—Khaza who grinned at her with one of those happily mated secret smiles.