Brukr (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 8)

by Celia Kyle

  Hannah flinched with the mention of her own sire, and Brukr curled his lip, exposing his fangs. “Radoo, if you do not—”

  Argan intervened on his behalf. He reached around the maroon male’s body and placed his forearm against Radoo’s throat. Argan brought his other arm up and placed his hand over Radoo’s mouth, silencing the male completely.

  Radoo struggled, but Argan had him at a disadvantage, holding the male from behind instead of a frontal attack. Not quite honorable, but not quite dishonorable either. Adequate.

  “Radoo has nothing else to say.” Argan growled the words, and Radoo still struggled. “And if he continues attempting to voice words, he will not be able to because he will be unconscious. Then I shall contact Healing Master Chashan and his mate, Heart Master Khaza, and Radoo can explain himself to them.”

  No warrior liked speaking their heart to another—Radoo the least of them all.

  The maroon warrior froze in place, wide eyes zeroing in on Brukr while he shook his head. Or attempted to.

  A soft touch, lighter than the flutter of a sriss’s wings. The creatures were careful, delicate, and prone to damage if a being was not careful. Much like an Earth butterfly, it brought joy to see and watch. And if worthy, feel the brush of wings against his flesh. Except, they were not on Preor and in the forests of the surface. There were no sriss on Earth.

  But there was Hannah and her barely-there caress of his skin. He lowered his attention to her once more, meeting her confused gaze. Her expression pleaded for an answer while his heart pleaded with him to remain silent. Now was not the time to discuss his reasons behind his demand that she remain.

  Specifically, because he did not have a justifiable motive.

  “Brukr…” Her hand remained on his chest, the touch nearly imperceptible, but the proof was before him. Her thin fingers, with their blunted nails, lay over his heart. She did not know that it beat for her and her alone. “Why?”

  She also did not know that a simple question had that part of him ceasing to beat. Blood roared in his ears, overriding the other sounds in the room until his entire world became the female in front of him. He had no thoughts but for her. Her scent filled his nose, her vision his mind, and her touch… his soul.

  And she wanted to know why he did not want to release her? Brukr did not have the words. He did not believe he would ever be capable of explaining himself.

  Which was why he gave Hannah an answer he’d received from others in his past. “Because I do not wish it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You don’t wish it?” Hannah said the words slowly, carefully—sounding out each syllable to make sure she grasped what he said. At Brukr’s nod, just a quick jerk of his head, she knew she’d heard him right. He. Didn’t. Wish. It. “Did you just give me the Earth equivalent of ‘because I said so?’”

  Brukr’s eyes widened, his expression turning from pleading to wary. Good, he should be wary. “You wished for a reason.”

  Yes, yes, she did, but…

  His wings twitched and the rustle of clothing and wings from behind her reminded Hannah of who she was dealing with. They were aliens. Big, sexy, lickable aliens, but still aliens. Their customs and practices weren’t the same as people from Earth.

  She took a deep, calming breath—ignoring the insistent hardness that rubbed her pussy—and lowered her legs from Brukr’s hips. She couldn’t think when all she was concerned with was getting him inside her as soon as possible.

  And this whole situation required thought. A lot of thought. Especially since her feelings matched his. He didn’t want her to leave? Well, she didn’t want to leave either. But she couldn’t stay.

  Hannah lifted her hand from his chest, already aching from the loss of that connection, and wiggled away as much as she could. In their passion, he’d lifted her and placed her on the counter, a nice solid surface to support her weight. It was also deep enough for her to remove her pink bits from his katoth covered cock. She had to get away from temptation before her pussy went back to making decisions for her.

  “Shaa freem…” He murmured those two Preor words again, words she didn’t understand but sounded like what mated couples said to each other.

  Nicknames. Endearments.

  “What,” she rasped and cleared her throat. “What does that mean?”

  “My fighter,” he dropped his voice and murmured in return. “You have fought for many Earth turnings and—”

  She held up her hand. “And it’s not going to stop anytime soon. Even now, the crowd is growing. Who knows how many will be out there by the time Eric arrives. Hundreds? Thousands?” She shook her head. “Brukr…”

  “The human Eric approaches.” Penelope’s soft voice drifted through the condo. Apparently even Penelope disliked Eric in her own electronic way.

  If Hannah was honest, there were plenty of times she didn’t like the agent either. But he’d kept her safe for years, and considering he was the reason she still breathed, she could forgive some of his more interesting personality traits.

  “I need to get down. I’m not done packing.” She didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want her to go either and… fuck it hurt. The whole situation hurt.

  She woke thinking of Brukr. Went to sleep thinking of Brukr. When she stood at a podium and tried to convince others to step forward for treatment, she always looked for Brukr. He was in her mind—in her life—constantly, and the moment she stepped out of Preor Tower, his spot in her world would be gone.

  A knot formed in her throat, tightening and squeezing. The ache built, gathering strength while it twisted and turned to form a sob. Her tears stung, burning with the rush of salty liquid, but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

  “Hannah, please.” His shape was blurry, altered by the tears that weren’t in her eyes, dammit, but the yearning was in his voice. The closest thing she’d ever get to a Preor warrior dropping to his knees and begging.

  The air in the room changed, the mood swinging from one extreme to another in an instant, and she didn’t have to look to know why. Eric had arrived—or would at any moment.

  “Hannah, let’s go.” The loud voice, the edge of command and barking tone, was all Cocky Eric. He had different faces, different personas she’d learned over the years. This one didn’t have any patience. It wasn’t like she was afraid of the mood swings and changes, but sometimes it was better to go along to get along.

  She tore her gaze from Brukr’s, breaking their connection, and brought her hands to her face. She wiped away what portion of her tears she hadn’t been able to banish and then scooted back to the edge of the counter.

  “Excuse me, Brukr.” She kept her voice low. “I need to get down.”

  “But you are not leaving.”

  “Hannah!” That sharp bark came a split-second before Eric came into sight, and the glare he shot her… It was darker than any she’d ever seen—whether that be from him or a furious Preor. “Let’s. Go.”

  Well, so she wasn’t getting out of the condo without looking at him again. She lifted her gaze to his, focusing on the male she wanted more than her next breath. “I am leaving.”

  “No.” He shook his head and didn’t budge.

  “Yes, she is.” Eric stomped closer, his booted feet thudding against her carpet.

  Funny how his human steps sounded so hollow and light compared to Brukr and other Preor. In the beginning, those deep thumps made her think of the past, of people attempting to break down a door to get to her. Now, a feeling of safety embraced her when she heard a warrior approaching.

  A low murmur came next, the crackling, and snap of Eric’s comm. The man pressed a finger to his ear. “Go.” His dark eyes bored into her, deepening in color, and she watched as more and more frustration suffused him. “Copy that,” Eric snarled and dropped his hand. “The crowd is restless, and local authorities don’t think they’ll contain them much longer. We need to go. Now.”

  “Brukr…” She wasn’t sure wh
at she meant when she said his name. Brukr, let me pass? Brukr, help me? Brukr, give me a reason to stay?

  “Look, we really don’t have time for this.” Movement from her right, Eric stepping even closer, and then his large hand wrapping around her wrist—that wrist. “Let’s go.”

  Hannah hissed and sucked in a hard breath, holding it while she waited for that starburst of pain to retreat. It pulsed in time with the beat of her heart, the rush of blood dragging the pain through her veins. It scraped her nerves, and she gritted her teeth against the rising ache. And it didn’t end there. It didn’t end with the tight grip. He pulled next, yanking her arm as if she voluntarily remained Brukr’s captive.

  But wasn’t she?

  No, she had to go. For everyone’s safety, she needed to leave Preor Tower. If she said it to herself often enough, she might remember.

  Then the rush of metal on katoth—a familiar sound since she’d watched the warriors spar and train. Someone had unsheathed their war blade in a whip-fast movement, and now… Hannah swallowed hard. Now the tip rested just beneath Eric’s chin, the sharp point digging into his flesh but not quite piercing his skin.

  “You will release her.” She followed that weapon, gaze skating over the polished metal, scarred hilt, and up the golden arm of the male holding it steady. Argan. “Now.”

  “Do you know who I—”

  Argan lifted his weapon, increasing the pressure, and she held her breath. Would Argan really hurt Eric? She couldn’t be the cause of some intergalactic incident.

  “Stop.” She pushed on Brukr. “Just stop. I’m coming. Eric, let me go. Argan, put your war blade away.” She’d hop down and then they’d be on their way. Except Brukr still hadn’t moved. “Brukr.” She pushed him with her free hand and fought to ignore the continued pain in her other. “Move.”

  “No.” He shook his head, dark eyes on hers and filled with an emotion she craved but she knew it wasn’t real. She was projecting her hopes and dreams on a warrior who sought Ms. Knowing, not Ms. Right Now.

  “You have to.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and pulled against Eric’s grip, trying to free herself once more. The idiot still wasn’t letting go. If he didn’t listen to Argan soon, he’d end up losing his head. “I can’t stay. Please.”

  “Do you wish to stay, Hannah?” Was that hope in his gaze? Yearning?

  No. Neither. She needed to get her head out of the clouds and move on. “What I wish to do and what I have to do have nothing to do with what’s about to happen.”

  “You are a Preor. Your place is here.”

  Hannah huffed with disbelief and shook her head. “Just because you keep saying something doesn’t make it true. I’m human and I’m not a Preor mate. I’m a safety risk to everyone, and the longer I stay, the more dangerous my presence becomes.”

  “If you could stay, would you? If it was safe. If your presence with the Preor did not risk others. If the human Eric did not demand you leave. Would you stay?”

  “It was stupid to think this would work. They find me. They get to me. They always do.” She wondered how much of her face would have to change now. How drastic would the mods have to be to hide her.

  A callused hand caressed her cheek, soft and hard at the same time. “If they could not…”

  “Hannah—” Eric squeezed, she winced, and Argan growled—followed by Eric’s shout.

  Distantly, she recognized that Argan had injured Eric in some way and she should probably care, but Brukr… Brukr’s stare was so intent, so searching, that she couldn’t look away.

  She gave him the only answer she could. If everything was different, she would stay even if it meant risking her heart. “I would stay.”

  Brukr grunted, that Preor sound that conveyed a cocky pleasantness that came naturally to the warriors. Then… then he made her one of the happiest women alive.

  While Brukr ruined his own hope for happiness with a handful of ritualistic words. “By Earth treaty I lay claim to Hannah Carr as kouva to Brukr sen Zak’lu, now Brukr joi Hannah, warrior in the Preor Third Fleet.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brukr had not walked into Hannah’s condo with the intention of claiming her as his mate, but it was done and he would not change the fact. Ever.

  For the first time in many turnings, his dragon was at peace. For the first time since he’d taken a blade for the emperor, he had a purpose that filled him with strength and determination. He no longer wished to be worthy of the emperor’s favor. He wished to do nothing but make Hannah happy.

  So far, he believed he’d failed, but he could—would—do better. He did not know how, but there were other mated males. At least one of them had to have knowledge to share. They’d acquired the Knowing with their matings. They had to have the tools to assist him. If they did not… Well, perhaps the Knowing was—as humans said—overrated.

  Brukr’s dragon snorted and blew a puff of smoke, the gray cloud drifting through his mind. No, he did not believe himself either, but he did not regret his claiming of Hannah.

  Hannah, who seemed unable to remain still. She paced, slowly but constantly and in a predictable pattern, from one side of the space to another, her gaze on the projection on the wall. The wall within their new quarters on Penelope.

  The ship had transported them with a quickly issued order, leaving Radoo, Argan, and the human Eric behind on Earth. When they’d rematerialized, it was within this suite—one left empty and unassigned. One to be filled by newly mated couples.

  Like him and Hannah.

  The projection on the wall gave the space a perceived “openness” that human females enjoyed—according to Penelope’s research. There were other changes—deh-kor-a-shuns that appealed to mates. Several potted pwaa trees—similar to Earth palm trees—added a touch of home to the suite. They reminded him of Preor—the plant life only able to survive on the ship or his planet. There were bright colors as well—pill-ohs and colorful swaths of cloths made of xina spread over cow-chez. The material was typically reserved for clothing—the weightless and indestructible cloth a protection for females. But Brukr did admit the hues brightened the gray space.

  When Hannah trailed her fingers across the arm of a chair and paused to stroke the xina as if the touch was pleasurable, he decided he would request more from the ship. She seemed to like the silky texture, and he wished to do all he could to please her.

  On her next pass, she lifted the fabric from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders, hugging it close to her body.

  “Are you chilled, Hannah?” he murmured. “Should I request Penelope raise—”

  She glanced at him, a rueful smile on her lips, and shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

  Brukr narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Mates state that when their females assure them they are ‘fine,’ they are not being truthful.”

  She quirked a brow, her smile transitioning to one of amusement. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “I would never accuse you of being dishonorable. I merely state a fact.” He shrugged. “And I wonder if perhaps you would like to alter your response.” She rolled her eyes and gave him another shake of her head. “I do not understand. Does that mean you are being truthful or you are declining to alter your response?”

  “I…” She sighed and returned her attention to the projection. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft he nearly missed her words. The only reason he heard her was due to his dragon’s need to hear her voice. It was entranced by her every sound and never wished to miss one. Brukr admitted his other half felt the same. “What do you think is happening down there?”

  He risked much and moved closer to her, slowly delving deeper into their quarters. He’d remained near the entry but now closed that distance between them. He passed the cow-ch and chair, not stopping until less than four feet separated them. He hated any distance between their bodies, but he did not believe she would welcome his touch. Not after… Not after he’d taken every choice from her.

  “
I believe Esteemed Warrior Jarek is doing as he always has.” At her questioning expression, he explained, “The humans would say he is ‘kicking ass and taking names.’ Though I do not believe there would be kicking. He has his war blades and dragon’s fire. They are much more efficient.”

  Hannah’s eyes widened and her face paled, mouth parting slightly while she sucked in a quick breath. “He’s killing them?”

  Probably. Though he did not say that aloud. She did not appear to like his initial answer so he sought another. Now he understood the warnings he’d heard from mated males. Craft responses with precise care.

  “Jarek would not use unnecessary force.” A Preor’s definition of unnecessary and a human’s differed greatly, though. “He is an honorable male, and his mate is at his side. She is not a Heart Master, but I believe with proper training she could easily attain such a designation. She has a calming touch. She will encourage him to…” He furrowed his brow and sought through all he’d learned of humans. “To ‘take a deep breath’—is that the term?”

  Preor often took deep breaths. It typically preceded a ball of flame. He did not tell her so.

  “I just can’t believe…” she whispered, voice trailing off.

  “Cannot believe what?”

  She slowly pulled her attention from the projection, gaze eventually meeting his. “What happened.” She waved toward the displayed view—the blue and green planet so far below them. “Down there.”

  Brukr tilted his head. Perhaps the stress caused her to forget. “The events occurred.” Then another idea came to him and dread suffused his body. “Did the travel from Earth to Penelope harm your mind? The ship can recount the events if that would assist you.” He spun and sought the comm station, driven by overwhelming concern—Preor warriors did not feel fear—for Hannah. “I will also summon Healing Master Whelon. He warned the ship that he was unsure how human bodies would react—”