Whelon: Dragons of Preor

by Kyle, Celia

  Sasha looked away, obviously not prepared to admit she had those types of injuries. Whelon noticed her distress and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.

  “I shall go too, then,” he announced. “Let us go to the surface and put a stop to this.”

  The display revealed a new scene of Melissa and Jarek holding a press conference at the foot of the tower. Melissa appeared lovely in a flowing red dress, but he could see the signs of strain in her features. It was unacceptable that a female so far along in her bearing was permitted to attend such an event.

  “I have to get down there,” he rumbled, furiously. “Look at what is going on! She should be in bed, not standing in front of hundreds of angry humans.”

  Sasha shook her head, gripping his hand tightly. “If you need to get down there, you should, but I can’t return with you.”

  “Why not? You just said you needed to return. I will be at your side.”

  “No,” she shook her head. “I have to go alone.”

  His eyes swam as he looked at her. The idea was beyond comprehension. He had only just introduced her to his world. He was not about to let her go so easily.

  “If I return with you, they’ll say I’m brainwashed or something,” she murmured softly. “I have to show up of my own will. Alone.”

  Alone. What a horrid word. Once the Knowing had commenced, it wasn’t a word either of them should ever entertain. He shook his head, and his throat squeezed tightly.

  “No,” he grumbled stubbornly.

  Sasha rubbed his arm. “It’s the only way. Look at the people. They’re howling for your blood. You think the Preor can handle this, but trust me, no one can handle the rage of an unrestrained mob.”

  Whelon shook his head once more, trying to understand. It was as if the rational parts of his mind were being rewritten by the feral thoughts of his dragon. He reached out for common sense, but it fled on a wave of loss.

  “I cannot be parted from you,” he admitted simply.

  She shook her head and stroked his face as she peered into his eyes. “I love you.” Her voice was so soft, but Whelon heard her words clearly. His heartbeat stuttered as if it too heard her message. “But I’m going.” The words were hard, her eyes unwavering and steadfast.

  “We’ll go, too!” Carla made a supreme effort to joist herself off the couch but tumbled back again.

  “No, no.” Sasha stood and waved her hands. “I appreciate the support, but in my mother’s eyes, you’ll be contaminated, too. If I appear with you guys, she’ll say you’re influencing me.”

  Whelon struggled with himself. His dragon coiled inside him, an endless expanse of black scales. For the first time in his life, it was as if the beast did not fit inside him. The beautiful moment of his two-legged form blending into his dragon shape had been bent and twisted. Instead of operating as one entity, it now felt as if they were at war.

  “I will… I will let you go.” Spitting the words out was a struggle, as if they tore at his chest and scraped his throat. Sasha turned and smiled at him, and he could tell she hadn’t truly been waiting for his permission.

  Is this why other Preor warriors are always walking around clutching their heads as if they are mad?

  That one look from his mate made him realize that whatever control he thought he might have over his life was now gone. He would never be sure of anything ever again, not with those deep blue eyes teasing him every day for the rest of his years.

  Sasha squeezed his hands. “I’ll be back. Or I’ll meet you down there. I know you have duties at the tower and your new clinic needs you.” She smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. “It won’t be long.”

  Then she turned and left the room, the soft murmur of Penelope’s voice guiding Sasha back to the shuttle bay—away from him. Remaining still and allowing her to leave was agony. Dawn quickly sat at his side, rubbing his back with her gentle touch. All the muscles in his back had turned into a savage knot with Sasha’s departure, but he soon relaxed under Dawn’s expert hand.

  “It’s okay,” she soothed him. He could easily argue that nothing was okay, but he would not snap at the Heart Master in training. She only meant to help and he could not deny that her presence comforted him. “You know, Whelon, the Preor did promise to stop kidnapping women.”

  “Kidnap! I did not—”

  “You kind of mirrored Kozav’s actions,” Grace informed him in a gentle tone. “Although, he really did take me without consent. You at least asked Sasha. The circumstances just look really bad.”

  Whelon winced, the lack of his mate a sharp and keen agony.

  “Honestly, Whelon, I thought you had more tact.” Penelope’s teasing poked at him like physical fingers.

  He heard their words but did not understand them. Not truly. He could not steal his mate… He could not abduct her. Such a thing was not possible. They were meant to be.

  “Whelon!” Dawn cried out with alarm.

  He could not look up. All he could do was remain motionless, his head in his hands. He knew scales now decorated his forearms, the dark symbols of his inner beast pushing to the fore. He felt his fingernails sharpening and coming to deadly points against his skull as his dragon asserted control.

  “Get Yazen!” Dawn ordered Penelope. “I’m trying to calm his dragon, but I can’t hold him. We need a sedative!”

  The rest of her words were lost to Whelon as he descended into the deepest reaches of his mind. The situation he found himself in was unacceptable. Something as flimsy as human opinion could not keep him from his mate. It was preposterous.

  A dragon could not understand human thoughts, so it did not. Whelon struggled with control over his beast, hoping Yazen would come soon and alleviate his burden before…

  Before Whelon lost all control and destroyed everyone around him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sasha wondered how she would get to the shuttle bay and who exactly would return her to Earth when she was enveloped in a shimmering curtain of light.

  “I can teleport you easily enough,” Penelope remarked, “since it’s a special occasion.”

  Sasha had no answer for the AI. She felt strange talking to a computer as if it were a person. She closed her eyes against the shining brightness, waited a few seconds, and then blinked them open as a sharp wind snapped against her.

  She was on top of Preor Tower, the afternoon swiftly moving toward night. The wind was cold and fast, the sky slowly filling with deep shadows. That was when she heard the mob screaming down below. She hurried through a nearby door and headed down the stairs to find an elevator.

  Even though Sasha wasn’t familiar with Preor Tower, she was used to being in new and strange places for her various shoots and interviews. With a bit of hunting through the top floor, she finally found the elevator and headed for the lobby.

  Her stomach clenched on the way down, tightening and squirming as she traveled closer and closer to the impending confrontation. Standing up to her mother always had this effect on her and today was no different. She knew she had found something worth fighting for, and this time, she could not stop. No matter how much it scared her, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—back down.

  She heard the roar of the crowd as the doors opened into the lobby. The people she usually addressed were happy, excited, and content. They cheered for joy and expected to be entertained and made to smile or laugh.

  This mob howled for blood. They didn’t even know whose they craved. Every person out there ran on rage, and it wouldn’t take much to set them off into a frenzy of fighting. The two sides were very clear as she approached the podium, shoving each other as they tried to get closer to the platform that had been erected. Melissa and Jarek stood before them, holding hands and speaking gently into the microphone.

  As Sasha took long, firm strides across the tile in her high heels, she took a deep breath. She flipped her wild hair over her shoulder and summoned her biggest smile. This would be her greatest performance ever.

  S
he walked out into the flashing of cameras, and the screaming of the crowd cascaded around her like a physical being. She came level with Melissa and Jarek and put a hand on each of their shoulders. They jolted and looked around in surprise, both of them visibly relieved when they recognized her. As Sasha stepped between them to take the mic, she noticed her mother right at the foot of the stage.

  She clutched a big megaphone and shoved herself against people to maintain her position. It was only a matter of seconds until punches would be thrown. Sasha reached for the mic and pointed at a nearby cameraman. He immediately trained on her and Sasha saw her face appear on all the screens in the area.

  “Hi, everyone.” She beamed. “I’m back!”

  The crowd let out a collective shout of joy and she breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to be easier than she thought. Both sides had been drawn together in solidarity the second she spoke.

  “Sasha!” her mother screamed. She climbed the stage and threw her arms around her daughter. Sasha wanted to peel her mother off, and even though she managed not to recoil, she didn’t return her mother’s embrace either.

  “Where have you been? What did they do to you?” Jenna shook her arm roughly and peered over Sasha’s shoulder at Jarek as if he was the cause of all of humanity’s problems.

  Sasha smiled and tilted her head toward the cameraman. She made sure her mouth was close to the mic so her voice would carry to the crowd. “I’m perfectly all right. I was just taking a tour of the ship.” She waved to the crowd, displaying the carefree happiness that was her trademark. People knew Sasha Dane didn’t act a certain way to create a good image. She was genuinely kind. All her fans knew about her charity work and her dedication to others.

  “Nonsense!” her mother snapped. “You were kidnapped. I have the footage.”

  “Whelon was simply helping me into the shuttle, Mother.”

  “You’re under an alien spell. We need to get you to a doctor.”

  Sasha sighed and turned away from her mother’s angry face to address the crowd. “The Preor do not ‘choose’ a mate out of a hat. It’s a process beyond emotion. The bonding that occurs means you will be together forever. It’s true love in a way humanity has never known. It makes them humble and gives them humility. It has made all of them incredibly disciplined and patient. In the absence of the mate bond, a Preor—”

  “Shut up!” her mother hissed low, for Sasha’s ears only. “What is this fucking shit? You’re selling fairytales? This is pathetic, Sasha. You’re using the weakest possible argument to fuel your own agenda and I won’t have it.”

  Sasha stared at her mother in wide-eyed, cold disbelief. Her mother had never spoken to her like that before, and she was utterly astounded Jenna could accuse anyone of something she herself was clearly doing.

  Does she really think I’m that stupid? Sasha thought with despair. Does she think she could get an argument like that past me?

  They glared at each other, Sasha not backing down. Her mother stared for only a few seconds, and Sasha spied the tic at her mother’s mouth that meant she was about to unleash hell on Earth. Her eyes crept to the crowd and back to Sasha once more, realizing she couldn’t tear Sasha apart in front of her audience.

  Jenna’s features flashed confidence again and as she stepped forward to the mic, Sasha knew she was going to work the crowd as her weapon. Sasha’s stomach twisted, but she stayed put, waiting for the next onslaught from her mother.

  “If this is as you say, Daughter,” her mother began with some flair, “then you will come with me and leave the tower—of your own free will.”

  Sasha pulled her lips into the biggest smile she could manage, waved to the crowd and blew them a kiss. “Of course, Mother. Let’s head off now. I’ll be back soon!” She smiled for the camera one more time and followed her mother off the podium.

  They quickly went around the side of the exterior of Preor Tower and jumped into a waiting car. Sasha noticed Dave drove and assumed her mother had the other mercenaries stationed around the building. Jenna liked to be prepared for anything.

  “Thank God I got you out of there. You look good, for a change. I’ve got a spot for you on that gossip show tonight so we better get moving.”

  “No.” Sasha ignored the insults and prepared herself to stand her ground.

  “No?” her mother echoed.

  “No.” Sasha reiterated firmly. “You can’t force me onto any new programs. You can’t make me say what you want me to say. I’ve had enough.”

  Her mother shook her head. “You’re simply brainwashed, sweetie!” Her tone was so thick and condescending it made Sasha ill. “You need to get right in the head and then we can talk.”

  “No, Mother. I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Jenna stared out the window, muttering to herself. She reached over and absently patted Sasha’s knee. “Yes, dear. Of course.”

  Shaking her head, Sasha realized her mother wasn’t even listening to her. With a sinking heart, she realized Jenna never would listen to what she had to say. She had been waiting for this moment—the day she could declare Sasha incompetent and take full control of her career and her life.

  There would be more fights tonight as she refused to do whatever press conferences or interviews her mother had scheduled. All she wanted was to run back to Whelon and the ship, but if she abandoned Earth now, the Preor were finished. It really would look like programming if she returned to him so quickly.

  She might have to give up everything she had built if she decided to be with Whelon. Sasha truly enjoyed her work and loved being a trusted figure in the media—even when she was only testing out the latest bikini trends.

  She didn’t agree with moving into “serious” news. She felt like a fake after her years of fashion advice and soap operas. Now that it was obvious Jenna was using her to push her own agenda, Sasha knew she had to get out of news all together.

  Two choices loomed before her—Whelon or her work here on Earth. Right then, that was all her future contained. When her mother glanced over, the curve of Jenna’s mouth self-satisfied and triumphant, Sasha realized she would do anything to get away from the woman. And her heart broke in that moment.

  Now I see her for what she truly is, Sasha thought. Thank God for Whelon. Mother may have broken my heart, but Whelon will put the pieces back together again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Several hours later, Whelon woke in the ship’s med bay, groggy and delirious from the sedative Yazen had given him. He did not need an explanation of what happened. It was quite obvious his dragon had lost all control and he was sedated before he could tear apart the ship in the fury of his change.

  He blinked into the med bay’s bright lights, slowly bending at the waist as he sat upright. He felt as if his skull had been pounded by hammers, but other than those sensations, he felt fine.

  More than fine. Ready to tear apart the universe until nothing stood between him and his mate.

  Stars, he cursed. This is worse than torture! I never knew the dragon could ride my heart and disrupt life in such a way!

  For most of his life, he had been in harmony with his other shape. It was one of the things that made him an excellent healer. The dragon was him and he was the dragon. He could not imagine fighting for control over the other half of himself.

  But all he had to do was think about his mate—his Sasha—and his mind was taken over by a wild, raging fury. He could barely fight the beast and some part of him did not want to bother with the battle. His every cell screamed to give in to the power that would make her his. How could he argue? It was all he desired in the world.

  “Easy,” Yazen murmured from nearby. Soon his friend’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Sit up slowly.”

  “That is what I am doing,” he growled low.

  “You will feel much better once you’ve claimed your mate fully. Until then, the primal urges are going to make you more dragon than male.”

  Whelon shook his head
, at a loss. His chest ached, deeper than blood and bone. Almost like a wound to his very soul.

  “Are you returning to Preor Tower? Chashan has asked that you return. The females there need your support.”

  He nodded weakly, though he only agreed because it would bring him closer to Sasha.

  Yazen gave him another pat on the shoulder and then moved away, further into the med bay. Whelon took a moment to compose himself and then rose and headed out of med bay, his destination—the shuttle bay.

  It was like living within a murky, dark night. The edges of his vision were clouded. Fighting that hot, fiery part of himself took all of his strength. When he reached the dock, a few Preor warriors were already climbing into a shuttle so he joined them, striding onto the smallcraft with a dazed expression.

  “Are you well, Whelon?” someone spoke nearby, and it took him a moment to discern where the voice had come from.

  “Oh, Amryn,” he murmured. “You are returning to Earth again?”

  “Yes, but you did not answer my question.” Amryn smiled, but Whelon spied the concern in his fellow warrior’s gaze.

  “I am fine.”

  “Good to hear. You’re always so calm, so easy going. It does not sit well to see you like this. The Knowing sickness packs a punch, yes?”

  Whelon felt as if he drifted far away and didn’t even hear the question. Everything was drowned out by the roar of the dragon in his blood.

  Find. Claim. Mate.

  The mantra was the source of every breath and beat of his heart.

  The shuttle descended through the night, the lights of the city falling away beneath them like glitter on velvet. Whelon did not see any beauty, not while there was nothing but conflict in his soul.

  When the shuttle landed atop Preor Tower, he walked across the roof, the strong ocean’s wind screaming at him like a siren’s song.

  Fly, fly, fly!

  He clenched his fists and tightened his muscles, bringing his wings taut against his back as he headed downstairs. He knew the rooms surrounding the clinic on the first floor had been converted into a lounge area with couches and beds so the women could remain near the healers. He headed straight for that area. Fighting the primitive urge took up so much of his mental processes that he could only focus on one thought at a time.