by Kyle, Celia
The women in the lobby screamed, but not for Preor blood. Every single female in the area who had seen the display was going mad looking for her own dragon savior.
“Pick me! Please pick me!” The screams rose above the crowd and women began throwing punches and fighting to get into the lobby.
“Now, everyone wants their own pet dragon.” Penelope giggled. “Honestly, it came together better than I planned. I hoped to make the other women jealous, but that step off the roof was a master stroke. Making him catch you? Ahhh…” Penelope released a drawn-out, lovesick sigh.
Sasha laughed again. “It will be pretty hard to stop the treaty now. The women would go to war against the government if they don’t get a chance to catch their own dragon!”
Whelon was amazed at the events. He was still too caught up in the idea that he had his mate in his arms—his arms—to truly understand what was happening below.
“Okay!” The camera flipped around on Sasha’s phone and Whelon was presented with his slightly shocked face coming into the view.
“Take it home, Sasha. What does it take to be a Preor bride?” Penelope acted as the interviewer.
“Well, you have to be chosen.” She grinned. “And not by the dragon. The ancient process of the Knowing, that has been grossly misrepresented I might add, is genetic. It means that our genetic code has to match.”
“Whelon, what does that mean for you boys?”
“We spend our entire lives—centuries for some of us—looking for our mate.” He explained simply.
“Come on, give me a bit more than that.” Penelope laughed and it sounded as if she was really warming up to the role of TV presenter. “Why don’t you tell us how promiscuous all you dragons are?”
“Huh?” Whelon murmured with true confusion. “We aren’t—we cannot be. We cannot breed with any who is not our mate.”
“Say it again, Whelon, one more time,” Penelope asked softly.
Whelon straightened and addressed the camera. “Preor warriors cannot mate—ah, breed—”
“Fuck,” Penelope supplied.
“Yes! Fuck. We cannot fuck any who is not our mate. It is our one and only, or nothing.”
Sasha reached for him and they shared a deep, passionate kiss—one filled with want and longing and so, so much promise…
“That’s right, folks. You heard it here first. The Preor dragons can only have one woman—ever—and one woman only! I ask you, citizens, does media darling Sasha Dane look unhappy about any of this?”
The screaming of the females below intensified. People still shouted against the Preor but those were being attacked by angry girls. A lot of them were still trying to get into the lobby while others hailed cabs demanding to be taken to Preor Tower or Choosing Station Tau.
“The next Choosing is going to be interesting,” Penelope murmured.
Whelon chose not to listen to her any longer. His entire world had narrowed to his lips on Sasha’s and nothing else in the whole world could distract him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I suppose we should get off the roof at some point,” Sasha murmured lazily. She rested in Whelon’s arms, her cheek pressed against his warm chest. She expected to feel awkward over their shared nakedness, but being naked with Whelon wasn’t anything like being nude with a human man.
Her mate’s body was all kinds of hard in all the right places, and her curves seemed to fit against him perfectly, smooth skin sliding over smooth skin with no tricky places. They were skin to skin, belly to belly, his arms tight around her shoulders while she clung to his waist.
His cock was rock hard, there was no denying that, seeming to have risen in response to her closeness, but that was all. She felt no pressure from him to do anything sexual to alleviate his desire for more. By now, an interaction with a human man would have been full of tension—the wrong kind of tension. As if a man had the right to demand sex just because he had seen a naked body.
Whelon was soft and comforting against her. When she peered up and saw his half-closed eyes as he swayed back and forth, she knew that holding her was reward enough for him. He was utterly content with this and nothing more. He desired her, but he would also wait until the end of time to satiate that desire if necessary.
The idea that he cared more about her feelings than his own release was a strange one to her. She couldn’t escape the feel that she somehow owed him sex just because their skin touched.
“The urge to claim you is so very strong, my Sasha,” he whispered, sensing her feelings as only a mate could. “But even the dragon would never touch you without consent. In fact, I think even the most beastly parts of me would hold back until you screamed ‘yes’ repeatedly and tore my clothes off, just to be sure.”
She reached up on her tip toes and kissed him gently. “That moment might not be too far away.” She giggled. “But why? Is it cultural? That you don’t display your desire to females?”
“Yes,” he answered, the single word rumbling deep in his chest. “We are taught from a young age to respect females and never use them as objects for our entertainment. Sex between mates is a sacred act. Seed should be kept for the purpose of creating dragonlets. I’ve learned all of this in my growing years. When you see no females… it simply enhances the idea that we must protect them, but…”
“Yes?”
“Once I found you, I knew I had never seen anything so beautiful. To coerce you, even gently, to make you feel guilty if you did not let me use your body—such a thing abhors me. I want you joyful.” He bent and kissed her. “I want you hot.” Another kiss. “I want you hungry.”
This kiss was far deeper, and Sasha felt as if she was being stroked from inside out. Somewhere deep within a great beast of her own awoke. She realized she had never fully embraced her own sexual power. Her mother had kept her far away from anything sexualized, and Sasha thought it had been simply for modesty’s sake. But she now realized it had been another form of control for her only parent.
Embracing her sexuality was a sure way of increasing her independence. The longer she looked, the more she recognized that her life had been a carefully constructed stage. She only had freedom while she moved between the wings. Beyond that, she was supposed to be a good-looking mannequin that didn’t speak or have thoughts of her own.
She hugged Whelon even tighter, knowing her life was going to utterly change. She still loved television and action and doubted she would ever leave, and a thrilling sensation flooded her as she realized she could finally do any piece she wanted and act on her own terms.
“I agree, we should get off the roof,” Whelon eventually said. “I want to see what’s going on downstairs.”
Hand-in-hand, they strode over to the roof access door. Or rather, what little remained of it after Whelon’s flames baked it to a crisp. They stepped over the remnants of the roof access, and Sasha took him down the steps she had ascended so painfully only a short time before. She could barely remember the pain—the agony—now. At the time she had been sure she would die for the aches, but she hadn’t truly understood the power of the bond.
They hurried down the hall to her apartment where Sasha threw on an outfit. She had no clothes that would truly fit Whelon, though she had a very large, baggy pair of overalls she sometimes wore to the soup kitchens and other charity organizations where she volunteered.
She peered at him strapped into the blue overalls and couldn’t stop giggling. “We need to get you a straw hat and a length of grass to chew.” She chuckled. He grinned, getting the joke and brushed his hands over his chest self-consciously. “What happens to your straps and stuff when you shift if you don’t strip first?”
“Well, when we know we are flying to a specific destination, we carry a small pouch with our clothing. For emergencies, we simply shift and destroy our clothing. Our katoth cross straps bear our rank and honors, but every Preor warrior keeps a few spares nicely tanned and ready to go.” He smiled. “You never know when you are going to have an
emergency and must rush to save your mate.”
“Damn right.” She grasped his hand and led him to the elevator. Sasha had words for her mother and wanted to confront her, if she hadn’t bolted the second the meeting went down the drain.
When they arrived in the lobby, numerous police and Preor warriors were moving humans back and encouraging them to disperse. Anyone being violent was arrested and thrown into police vans. Sasha though her mother had disappeared for good when she suddenly saw the slender figure rising out of the crowd as she attempted to brain a Preor warrior over the head with a camera stand.
The poor puzzled Preor caught the makeshift weapon with ease and stared at Jenna as she desperately tried to bludgeon him with the tripod. He held the camera stand gently and looked around in alarm, unsure how to handle the female attacking him. “Can someone—I mean—what is this? What do I do with her? Lady, lady! Please cease.”
Jenna got the tripod free and tried swinging it again, and a cop hurried over and cuffed her, making the Preor sigh with relief. “Thank you, officer,” he offered. “The poor thing would hurt herself. She is not well.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Sasha muttered.
Jenna screamed at the retreating Preor that she would get him, get all of them.
“Mother,” Sasha called. She stopped in front of the handcuffed Jenna, but not too close.
“Sasha! Help me! It’s all a misunderstanding. You know that. Have your dragons let me go and we can work it all out. I can get you a spot on—”
“Mother,” Sasha cut her off firmly. “You would have let me die just so you could cover the story. I owe you nothing. You should think yourself lucky that the police cuffed you and not the Preor.”
“You are no friend to the Preor,” Whelon growled with menace. He kept his hand on Sasha’s shoulder for support and Jenna’s eyes ran up and down Sasha’s body, noting how close she stood to Whelon.
“You’re under a spell!” Jenna hissed. “You aren’t my daughter. You’re one of them now! My enemy. I disown you. You’re a traitor to your own race. You—”
“Save it, Mother.” Sasha shook her head tiredly. “I’ve really had enough.”
She turned and hugged Whelon as they dragged her mother away. He stroked her long hair, and even though she was comforted, the recent events were catching up to her and she was incredibly tired—exhausted—by everything.
“Let’s go back to Preor Tower,” she requested softly. “I want to see the others.”
He nodded. “I also have duties to attend.”
“Well then,” she grinned, linking her arms behind his back, “let’s fly. I’ve got a sordid urge to watch these overalls pop open across your huge muscles.”
Chapter Thirty
The night swept under Whelon and he felt as if it lifted him without any urging from his own wings. Now that he had his mate, everything was beautiful, and his heart overflowed with hope.
He took a few turns around Preor Tower before landing, just to feel Sasha’s delight as he swept along in a big curve. She was utterly without fear and he could not wait to take to the sky when she was well.
Once on the roof of the tower, he secured a pair of loose pants for himself, placed there for this exact purpose. Preor landing on the roof and transforming into naked, two-legged humanoids was not a big deal but wandering around the tower in search of clothes definitely ruined the human-friendly atmosphere they sought to achieve.
He took Sasha straight to the main living area near the clinic they had recently set up, desperate to see Melissa. He could not believe he had left his patient, but he knew that saving his mate’s life was the only acceptable reason to do such a thing.
The room seemed full of people, and Brukr was the first to turn around and welcome him inside.
“My male!” Brukr grinned, hurrying over to shake Whelon’s hand and clap him on the shoulder. “That was an impressive stunt!”
“I did not mean for it to be a stunt,” he murmured, somewhat embarrassed by the attention. All the other Preor and their mates turned and advanced on them, and Whelon noted that Sasha’s grip tightened. She was anxious and he did not blame her.
“Sasha,” he spoke softly. “This is Brukr. The lovely female over there holding the baby is his mate, Hannah.”
Sasha waved shyly. Then he went through each couple, Ellie and Ivoth sitting off to the side of the room where they could see the television but where none could feel like a threat to Charlie. Lily and Argan were nestled together on the couch, while Delaney and Zadri were in the kitchen area making dozens of cups of tea for everyone in the room.
Movement on the other side of the room caught her attention, and Sasha broke free of Whelon’s grip to run to the other woman.
“Dawn!” she cried, and Whelon heard the excitement in her voice at seeing a familiar face. He hurried after his mate, eyeing Dawn as he drew closer. He did not like the tense look on her face.
“Dawn, how is she?”
“Not well, Whelon. Come through.”
He entered the room hesitantly and found Chashan standing over Melissa who lay flat and pale against the ryaapir unit. Her hair was damp from sweat and she had dark circles under her eyes. Jarek was collapsed in a cot next to the unit, one hand reaching out weakly to touch Melissa.
“What’s happening?” Sasha asked, her voice filled with pain for the pregnant female.
“She’s struggling with labor,” Whelon answered absently as he approached. He gave Chashan a quizzical look, eyebrows raised in question.
“We managed to turn the young one,” Chashan murmured. “But her body is still not responding. I’ve tried extra pregnancy hormones, but nothing is working.” He touched Melissa’s forehead gently.
“I want you to get some rest, Whelon,” Chashan voiced tiredly. “I need to sleep soon, and I want you to monitor her in the meantime. There’s a room for you in the other hall.”
“I’ll stay,” Dawn said gently. “There’s technically nothing wrong with Jarek. He’s simply too connected to his mate. If I can rouse him, he can help her. It’s a joint effort, so I’ve heard from Lana.”
Chashan nodded and went to a nearby table for a cool cloth to wipe Melissa’s face. He waved Whelon off and, with a nod, Whelon drew Sasha from the room. The moment they were outside, his mate spoke.
“Can’t you help her?” There was fear for Melissa in Sasha’s voice.
His sweet, sweet mate.
“We have lots of technical equipment,” Whelon told her. “We can perform a perfect Caesarion if needed. Preor young are not human, though. They can be put in serious danger if they are taken from the womb too soon. Even with all our technology, caring for a dragonlet that needs to be within its mother or at her breast is difficult. Our young ones simply do not survive in incubators as yours are able.”
“That’s… fascinating, but scary.”
“Do not worry, shaa kouva… It will be some time before you must think on babes and pregnancy.”
From her sudden silence he realized he might have said the wrong thing. If she were afraid of bearing and labor, though, there was little he could do about her fears right then.
“Do you wish to see the others?”
She shook her head. “It’s a bit crowded in there. Let’s just go to your room.”
He guided her down the hall, grinning a little when he saw the doors labeled with each Preor’s name in a rabid scrawl. It was a hasty setup, indeed.
The room was very small and plain, with a very ordinary hospital bed as its only furniture.
“It’s like a cheap hotel.” Sasha giggled. “Kinky.”
He smiled at her laughter as he flicked on the TV and then went to investigate the bathroom. To his relief it had a decent shower, and he turned on the hot water, sinking into it gratefully as he washed away the remnants of his travels between buildings and the stinging, salty spray of the ocean’s breeze.
Sasha was quiet while he bathed, and when he emerged fresh and clean, he dis
covered why. She sat on the edge of the bed, chewing a fingernail while her eyes remained locked on the screen.
A news program covered the day’s events and the laws that were to be passed. A massive international convention was being arranged where they would discuss the powers the Preor would have on their new world with complete disclosure of both parties absolutely necessary.
Preor would have to ask permission before entering areas where they were not approved and setting up impromptu “camps.” Whelon scowled as he realized they were discussing his clinic.
“I can help you set it up again,” Sasha assured him, picking up his thought before he could put it to voice. “Whatever red tape is in the way, I can handle it. We’ll get your clinic open again. You can count on it.”
The details were not fully worked out—that was the purpose of the conference, after all—but the newscaster made it very clear that one of the first actions of the new laws were to be prosecution for anyone who disturbed the peace of the treaty.
The majority of human and Preor wanted to live together in peace and enjoy every aspect of the mutually beneficial arrangement. Anyone who protested against the Preor had every right to do so, but if they disrupted the peace by harassing the Preor or risking danger to any citizen, they would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the new laws.
“It looks like it’s all coming together. Peacefully,” he announced and Sasha smiled up at him.
“Yeah, I want to get into that conference, if I can. I’ve decided it’s going to be my new job—human-Preor relations.”
He chuckled. “It would not hurt for us to run some classes here at the tower. Basic lessons about our history and customs. This way, people won’t get strange ideas about us. They’ll have the truth. No more secrets.”
Sasha stood and headed for the bathroom. Whelon brushed her hand as she went, aching for that simple touch of skin on skin, and after she left, he soon heard the shower start.
The thought of her luscious, naked skin beneath the spray of hot water tempted him, but he let her be. Even if it would have been incredibly satisfying to simply watch her lather her body in soap, he refused to put any added pressure on her to take their relationship to the next level sexually.