by Celia Kyle
He was unsure. If he were in such a state, the injuries would be due to pride and nothing else. But they were not the same no matter their similarities.
“No, I don’t want you to comm Healing Master Chashan.” She spoke through gritted teeth once more. “I want you to give me ten minutes—”
“Human or—”
“Preor minutes to finish getting ready for the day.”
Brukr narrowed his eyes. “You are injured. That is unacceptable to me, Hannah.”
Hannah sighed, stiffness leaving her as she slumped against the frame. “Look, I know Preor have a thing about women being hurt. I get that. But…”
He shook his head and could not stop himself from easing closer. “I do not deny a Preor’s desire to care for females, but…” He did not know how to explain without sounding like a male who’d lost his mind. “I cannot stand the thought of you in pain. You.”
It was the first time he said those words aloud to anyone. The first time he hinted at his soul-deep need to care for Hannah in particular. If only the Knowing formed between them… His dragon prodded his mind. Ivoth had mated Elle without the Knowing. His heart had been filled with so much emotion, Ivoth had been unable to stop himself. It tried to tell him that Brukr felt the same.
She swallowed hard and her gaze did not waver. “Brukr…”
The way she whispered his name—a plea and dismissal in one.
“Finish preparing for the day, Hannah. I will take you to medical. Chashan will repair your feet, and we can discuss the healing of your Pol Mutation.”
And perhaps once her Pol Mutation was cured, they would discover that they were mates. The Knowing would manifest, and its presence would support his dragon’s desires. Then he would claim her. Wholly. His cock throbbed, need overriding all else inside him, and he nearly groaned aloud.
Or did he? Because Hannah’s gaze skated over his body, sliding down his chest, and not stopping until she reached his dick. Her stare lingered there for a moment before she lifted her head to meet his gaze once again.
Her cheeks flushed pink and lips parted slightly, her tongue appearing to wet first the top and then bottom. A soft sheen reflected the light, making her mouth even more alluring—tempting.
Then she ruined his dreams, his wants, and his fantasies with a few simple words. “I refuse to have my Pol Mutation cured.”
Chapter Six
Like a coward, Hannah darted out of sight the moment the words left her mouth. She didn’t want to see his reaction to her words or argue with him about being cured. She also didn’t want to keep staring at his body and imagining what it’d feel like to be wrapped around him, his hard cock snug against…
Yeah. She needed to get laid. Or order a sex bot. Do something before she decided to risk her heart and ride Brukr like a pony. He wanted her—his hard, thick cock was proof—but she wasn’t his mate. She wasn’t anyone’s mate. If she climbed into his bed, made love to him, she’d lose her heart to the large warrior.
Then he’d crush her heart when he found his mate and the Knowing manifested. He’d leave her behind without another glance while he embraced another woman.
“Hannah,” he growled, and that dark sound went straight to her core. Her pussy ached and grew heavy with wanting, her body desperate for a single caress—a single stroke.
One touch of his hand and she’d find her release. That was all it’d take, and how ridiculous was that?
She really, really needed to get laid.
By Brukr.
Yeah, no. Not by Brukr.
“You must be treated.” He sounded way too close.
And way too tempting.
Hannah left him, but it was obvious he’d followed. Of course. He just had to torment her. The heavy thud of his booted feet on the plush carpet reached her a split-second before his warmth stroked her skin. That was something about him that always lured her to his side. His warmth, his heat, the way his mere presence soothed her. Well, soothed and aroused. The two went hand in hand when she was in Brukr’s presence.
“No.” She glanced over her shoulder and didn’t slow her pace, continuing to her closet. “I really don’t.”
“You represent Cole-Daven. Their purpose is to heal Pol Mutation. You must have your Pol Mutation healed.” His voice remained a deep rasp, a mixture of his frustration and the natural gruffness from his old injury.
Hannah took a deep breath and sought a calm that seemed just out of reach. She couldn’t shout out the reason for her denial. She couldn’t tell him—anyone—exactly why she shied from treatment.
She paused beside the closet door and pressed her hand to the panel. A rectangle separated from the wall and slid free of its recessed home. It expanded and formed a long barrier between her and Brukr. Clothing swayed, dangling on hangers from the extended rod. It was just high enough to hide his body from her, giving her a chance to get her wayward libido under control.
Ish.
“It’s my body, Brukr.” She met his stare. “Mine. Not yours. Not the Preor’s. Not Cole-Daven’s.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t have a lot, but this,” she pressed her hand to her chest, “is mine. I don’t want to change.”
But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell him why. She wouldn’t explain the risks associated with tinkering with her genetics. The government had already done so many gen mods. She had no idea what would happen to her if the Preor tried to heal her.
If they tried to clean her genetics of the mutation, did that mean they’d return her DNA to its original state?
Would she go back to looking like him? The mere idea…
“I can’t change, Brukr.” There. The closest she’d ever come to the truth.
“I do not understand.” He shook his head.
Yeah, she knew he didn’t. She didn’t think any of the Preor would—ever could. Did any of them have something so dark, so wicked, so evil in their past that they wanted to keep hidden from the world? Probably not.
“You don’t have to understand to listen.” She reached for a shirt and tugged it off the hanger before grabbing a pair of pants as well. With a pantsuit, she could at least wear flats so her blisters and tears on her feet wouldn’t get worse.
“But—”
But the comm dinged, cutting him off. Then it dinged again, the tone slightly different. When the third came immediately after, she knew who called. She’d set a specific rhythm and tone just for him.
Lovely.
With a groan, she turned and padded across the room to the comm station tucked in a corner.
Hannah didn’t lower to the seat, but bent at the waist. She clutched her shirt and pants in one arm, pressing them firmly against her chest to keep her towel in place. She wasn’t about to appear nude in front of him.
She tapped the control panel to answer the comm and silence the still beeping unit. She also fought damn hard to ignore Brukr’s presence.
The screen flicked to life and she forced a smile to her lips. “Good morning, Eric. How are you?”
He didn’t return the smile. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, dropped his brow, and pressed his lips together so hard they formed a white slash above his chin. Eric was not a happy camper.
“I’m sending a transport for you this morning. Get on it.”
Yeah… Hannah ignored him and instead, had the conversation she wanted to have. “I’m good, thanks. My feet are a little sore, but what are you gonna do, right?”
“I mean it, Hannah.” His face darkened.
And… she still didn’t want to acknowledge his demand. Childish? Yes. She figured she learned from the best. Violet was great at ignoring her aunt. “My plans today? Well, I’ve got a quick visit to a nearby Pol Mutation segregated school, and then I’ve got the tail end of the breakfast shift and lunch shift at the diner. Then I get the rest of the afternoon to myself. Finally, a chance to just relax. Awesome, right? Maybe I’ll go for a—”
“Dammit, Hannah. You’re playing a dangerous game,” he growled, but instead o
f being worried over his tone, she felt… nothing. She figured it was hard to be afraid of a human man when she was surrounded by grumbling, snarling Preor. Wing sporting aliens who could transform into two-hundred-ton dragons were definitely scarier than a human—any human.
She dropped her smile and pressed her lips together, returning his glare with one of her own. “I’m not playing a game, Eric. I haven’t played games in years.”
Not since she was a hint over ten and her ball had bounced down the stairs into the basement. Then she’d seen…
Yeah. She didn’t want to think about that anymore.
“Why do you insist on being so irresponsible?” He shook his head. “You’re not the girl I was assigned ten years ago.”
Ten years ago… She’d been just shy of twenty—too young and immature to know her own mind. She hadn’t had a purpose then. She had one now.
“I’d like to think I’m a better woman now.”
Eric snorted. Asshole. “You’re naïve.”
Hannah ran a hand down her face and tried to rub away her rising frustration. Lately, all she ever did was argue with Eric. Ten years of working to keep her safe—ten years of friendship—all gone because she wanted to do something right and good with her life. Something to make up for all he’d done.
“Did you comm just to yell at me or did you need something?” She was tired of this. So damned tired.
“If you keep making appearances, they’ll find you.” It almost sounded like a threat instead of a warning. A shiver went down her spine, and she fought to suppress the shakes.
“I’m different now. The last round…” Movement to her left reminded her she had an audience. An audience who might report her—get her fired—if he learned the truth. She flicked a glance at Brukr and decided she’d ignore his thunderous expression right along with Eric’s. They could both take a flying leap off the roof as far as she was concerned.
Then again, that wouldn’t hurt Brukr since he had the whole wing thing going on.
“Is someone else there?” Eric’s loud voice drew her gaze back to the comm.
“My…” She almost called him a friend, but was he really? No, he was a guard—a warrior and nothing more, even if his body tempted her almost beyond sense. Even if he looked as if her body did the same to him. His cock remained hard and thick within his katoth pants… For her? She wished she was the cause if only so that she wasn’t the only miserable half of their duo. “It’s my guard. I told you that the Cole-Daven employees are provided with protection.”
“Does he know who he’s protecting?” Eric lifted a single brow. “Does he know that they’ll find you any day now? That he’s really protecting the daughter of—”
“Stop.” Her whole body shook, fear and worry battling inside her. Fear of “they” and worry that Eric’s words would spur Brukr into exploring her past. “Just stop.”
He sighed and shook his head. “You know I only want to take care of you. I care about you, Hannah. Why won’t you let me be there for you?”
She wished she’d grabbed a chair instead of standing while she answered the comm. Her feet ached, wounds throbbing harder the longer she remained upright, and now he wanted to get into this conversation.
Hannah softened her voice. “Eric, you know I love you like a—”
“That’s not what I want.” His face flushed red and she ignored the tense Preor at her side. She also ignored the wave of heat that suddenly filled the air.
“Eric,” she adopted the placating tone she’d perfected over the years, “I’m not in a place in life to—”
“When, then? When they find you? Today? Tomorrow? The day after?”
The anger and heat from Brukr turned into a distant worry while Eric’s words took their place. “Are they that close?”
“There are rumors. I can better protect you if you just agree—”
“No,” she shook her head. “Just… Just tell me if they—”
“Dammit, Hannah!” The air vibrated with Eric’s shout, the comm cracking with his sudden volume, and she flinched away from the station. She took one step, surprise and fear pushing her back, and then winced when a new jolt of pain assaulted her—pain and Eric’s voice once more. “Why do you have to be so fucking stu—”
The comm went black, Eric’s words still hanging heavily in the air, and she stared at the control pad in front of the display. She stared at Brukr’s large hand nearly covering the entire area. The large hand that’d just cut off her call with Eric.
She followed his arm, eyes touching on the scars on his forearm and the bulging muscles of his biceps. Then on to the chiseled angles of his chest and up his neck. Her attention touched on the thick scar across his throat, and soon she met his eyes. Emotions flickered through his expression, one after another after another, and she only caught small snippets of a few. Anger was obvious. Frustration was a second that repeated. But a third she caught… A third had her sucking in a quick breath, a soft gasp because she couldn’t understand what she saw.
Brukr was… jealous.
Jealous?
Chapter Seven
If another asked, Brukr would tell them he ended the comm between Hannah and the human Eric because his words frightened her. In his heart, he knew the truth. The man wished to join with Hannah, and Brukr did not wish for that to happen.
His dragon wished to set fire to the male and parts of his other half wished the same. The male wanted what Brukr considered his.
His and yet not.
Those thoughts—desires—confused him. They also made his mind drift to Ivoth and Elle. The male had been prepared to live a life without the Knowing and his destined mate. The feelings in Ivoth’s heart were stronger than his desire for dragonlets. Only fated mates—those that shared the Knowing—could create dragonlets.
Part of him yearned for such a connection—a family. While the other part of him craved Hannah—needed her more than his next breath. Was this how Ivoth felt when he claimed Elle? Brukr was not sure. Perhaps he would speak with—
“What the hell?” Hannah whirled to face him, fury in her gaze, and his body responded to her anger.
It did not recoil with her ferocity but instead flushed with desire. The pinkness of her skin, the flashing of her eyes, and the rise and fall of her chest aroused him. His cock somehow hardened further, desperate for him to part her lush thighs and sink into her hidden depths. He wanted to touch her, stroke her, make her scream at him to give her more.
And he would fulfill her every desire. Every. Single. One.
“Brukr?”
He blinked hard and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the haze of desire. When he was able to think of more than the taste of her skin and the feel of her heat wrapped around his shaft, he spoke. “Yes, Hannah?”
“What the hell?” She glared at him even harder, more of her angry passion in her gaze, and he had to force his mind away from thoughts of her nude body once more.
He was a highly trained and skilled warrior. He’d survived many battles and healed from countless wounds. His control should be better, but in Hannah’s presence, he was like a dragonlet.
Or a sixth warrior driven to dishonorable acts out of fear.
That thought was enough to pull him from the drive to claim Hannah and back to the cause of her anger. He’d ended the comm between her and Eric without permission—a fact he did not wish to address. It was not dishonorable to redirect the conversation.
“Humans speak of ‘hell’ and I do not understand the reference.” He straightened his spine and crossed his arms over his chest. “Explain.”
“You…” She furrowed her brow. The anger remained, but confusion also lingered in her expression. “Huh?” She shook her head. “That’s not the issue. You just—”
“You stated you would answer questions about humans.” He shrugged and only felt slightly guilty for purposely confusing her. He knew the answer she sought. He simply did not wish to provide it to her. Ever. “What is the mea
ning of the word ‘hell’?”
Hannah lifted her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose. The changing hold had her towel slipping ever so slightly, exposing the upper curves of her breasts and the deep valley between them.
That quickly, his body responded to the new view and Brukr groaned.
Aloud.
The sound snared her attention, and she glared at him once again. He would take her glares. She was glorious when angry.
“Oh, I’ll answer it. After you tell me why you ended that comm?” She pointed at the station with her free hand. Pity. He’d hoped she would forget her towel’s precarious position and release it entirely.
Did that also make him dishonorable? He mentally sighed. Yes, it would.
“The human male, Eric, made threats.” And lusts after you. “That is unacceptable.”
Hannah gave him a gentle shake of her head. “No, he spoke the truth.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and glanced at the darkened comm once more. “He…”
“Who are ‘they,’ Hannah? Why does he believe he can protect you better than the Preor? Who does he wish to protect you from?” She must tell him so he could then end their lives.
“It’s not your concern.” Her jaw hardened and the tendrils of fear he’d spied were replaced by a hard resolve—a hard resolve he sensed all the way into his soul? No, he did not experience her emotions. Or did he? Perhaps…
“You are under my—the Preor’s—protection.” Though with Eric’s threats, he would ask to be assigned to Hannah alone. He could not trust another with her well-being, and he did not wish to examine that driving desire. “Everything about you is our concern.”
His concern.
“No, it really isn’t.” She dropped her gaze from his and stepped to her left which he countered with one to his right.
He blocked her path, not yet ready to end their discussion. “You are a friend of Preor. Everything about you concerns us. Who are ‘they’? Why does he believe joining with him will protect you? I am a stronger male than he.”