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

by Celia Kyle

  “Really?” Hannah snorted and continued her approach, soon standing at his side. She stared up at him, her gaze like a soothing caress, and some of his tension bled away. He was still unused to the sensation—unfamiliar with her mere existence changing his world so much. “Hey, Brukr?”

  “Yes?” He did not remove his attention from Whelon.

  “You keep forgetting I’m in your head, too.” She eased closer and pushed to her tiptoes, warm breath fanning his cheek. “Syh doesn’t like liars.”

  He’d spent so many turnings hoping for a mate, and now that he had one… He sighed. “I would not say it was a lie.”

  Another female’s voice, one he knew well, too. Why did Syh hate him so? Brukr didn’t dislike Elle, but with her came… it.

  “I wouldn’t call it the truth, either.” Elle’s light voice, tinged with a hint of laughter, reached him a bare moment before she came into sight. And there, perched on her shoulder was… it—the quasti.

  A dangerous being that could kill with a single sound. The quasti did not battle with bodies, but with voices. His fingers itched, anxious to reach for his blades as his inbred instinct to destroy it pushed forward. Even his dragon urged him to rid the ship of the beast, but… he would not.

  And not only because Elle’s mate—Ivoth—would kill him for eliminating the quasti. It was also because his Hannah had a “soft spot” for the animal.

  He only prayed she did not beg for a quasti of her own. May Syh help them if quasti reproduced like Earth rabbits and ran rampant all over…

  Hannah snorted and then giggled, tinkling laughter escaping her curved lips. The sound drew away what remained of his frustration and anger. “Oh, God, quasti aren’t like bunnies.” She chuckled again. “I don’t think it’s something you need to worry about.”

  A questioning trill came from Elle’s direction, the quasti under discussion easing into sight. It was a gift that added to the animal’s threat. They could cloak themselves—become invisible—with little effort.

  Hannah answered the beast’s inquiry. “He’s worried we’ll suddenly have a ship filled with interfering, annoying little quasti like you.”

  The quasti sniffed and flicked his tail, the furred tip curling and uncurling against Elle’s shoulder. That was followed by a chuckle from Elle. “Charlie wants me to tell you that you can just do your own checkup since your mate obviously doesn’t need his reassurance.”

  Charlie even went so far as to rise to his paws and turn around on Elle’s shoulder, presenting the room with his back. As if by turning they no longer existed. He was told Charlie behaved much like a human child in some instances. He wondered if this was one of those times.

  “Aw, Charlie,” Hannah cooed and padded toward Elle as if she was going to try and soothe the animal’s feelings. “Don’t be mad.”

  “Hannah.” He unfolded his arms and grasped her wrist, tugging her back to his side when she would have gone to the deadly beast. “We do not go near an annoyed quasti.”

  No Preor who still possessed their mind went near a quasti, ever. An annoyed quasti? This had to be further proof of Hannah’s illness. Her injuries didn’t merely damage her body, but her mind as well.

  Charlie glanced over his furred shoulder and clicked his teeth at them, curling one tiny lip to expose a fang before he whipped away once more. Elle released a tinkling laugh, head thrown back.

  Of course, her joy ended with the sound of someone’s stomping approach. Elle’s shoulders slumped and she sighed just as Ivoth rounded the corner and strode into the room.

  “I sought you in our quarters, but you were not there. Then I went to the dining hall because bearing females are often hungry, but you were not there either. Then—”

  It took a single touch from Elle to rid the male of his fury at his mate. Would it be the same way with him and Hannah someday?

  Yes… The softest of whispers, the quietest of murmurs, but he knew it came from his mate—his Hannah.

  “I brought Charlie to see Hannah so Brukr could quit worrying.”

  “I do not worry.” Brukr countered Elle’s statement, which earned him a glare from both Ivoth and Charlie. Perhaps his voice had been elevated. Slightly. He cleared his throat and softened his tone. “I am not worried over Hannah’s condition. She is not fully healed. She will not be departing medical today.”

  “I already did depart medical,” Hannah pointed out. “To go meet Elle and Charlie.”

  Brukr chose to ignore her words. If Charlie could pretend they did not exist, Brukr could pretend he lost his hearing for a moment.

  “Why do you need to bring Charlie to Hannah?” Ivoth returned to grumbling at his own mate. “Brukr has said she is not healed. Whelon does not need an annoying quasti to confirm his analysis.”

  Brukr groaned and Hannah echoed the sound. Even Whelon joined them while Elle winced. As for Charlie… He screeched at Ivoth—and only Ivoth. The quasti had learned a measure of control now that he was surrounded by so many. He could target a single person instead of injuring many with his sounds.

  At the moment, he attempted to harm Ivoth. And, based on the sudden tightness in Ivoth’s body, he succeeded.

  “I… did… not mean…”

  Ivoth attempted to speak and Elle chastised the quasti while Whelon strode to a nearby cabinet for supplies. Ivoth would be in pain once Charlie was done. The two constantly butted heads, and it seemed today would be no different.

  A tug on his hand drew his gaze from the arguing group and down to his Hannah. “Brukr?”

  “Hmmm?” He lifted his eyebrows in question. She tugged and he followed her lead, staying with her as she drew him to the other side of the room.

  “You have to let go.”

  He frowned and stared at their joined hands. “You are holding me.” He narrowed his eyes. “See? This is why you should remain in medical, shaa kouva. You do not see that—”

  Hannah leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his chest. He wondered if she sought an embrace. He decided not when she did not wrap her arms around him. Instead, she tapped her head on his chest. Perhaps it was a human ritual of some type. A prayer to her god? She had never spoken of her god, but…

  Even as that thought entered his mind, another replaced it. She did not perform a ritual, merely an expression of frustration. Often humans would bang their heads against a desk. He supposed his chest was an adequate substitute. Though not quite as hard as a table, it was firm.

  Brukr wondered where that thought came from, and it was Hannah who answered him. The Knowing…

  Yes, the Knowing came in bits and pieces, some facts ringing through their minds as clear as the sun while others struggled to make themselves known.

  “Hannah, explain what I must let go.” He pulled free of her gentle grip and cupped her cheeks, encouraging her to meet his stare. “Please.”

  Eyes—green when they were so recently brown—searched his. “I need you to stop being so worried. I need you to not hold onto me so tight. Am I perfect? No. But I’m as well as I can be.”

  Brukr traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “You are perfect for me.”

  “That’s cheesy.” She grinned.

  “I do not have any cheese, but I believe we can obtain some.”

  She leaned forward and propped her chin on his chest. “Dork.” She sighed. “I—we—are leaving medical. Today. Now.”

  He shook his head. “No, you—”

  “Yes, we are. I’m…” She shuddered and took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I need to get away.” She dropped her voice further, words hardly a whisper, but her emotions also resonated in his mind. “The warriors don’t mean to, but every one that comes through here stares at me.”

  Fury overtook him. His mate wished to leave medical because of others. “I will kill them, first for staring and again for making you uncomfortable. I will pluck their eyes from their heads and—”

  Hannah sighed, and he added that sound to his list of human actions he di
sliked. It joined his hatred for the word “fine.”

  “I’m an oddity. It’s not their fault that they’re curious. You claimed me without the Knowing, but now its manifested. My father is…” she grimaced, “who he is, and my appearance changes every day.”

  He grunted. “The choice is made. They will die.”

  “You’re going to kill over half of your quintet, too? Argan, Radoo, and Triem have—”

  Brukr shrugged. “Triem is young and sloppy. Radoo is a worthy opponent. I will have to be cunning with Argan. He nearly became the Defense Master, and it will be difficult to overtake him, but I am confident—”

  “Charlie, stop it right now or I’ll tell Lorra and Shanas where to find you…” Elle’s growl rivaled the snarl of a bezor.

  Charlie responded with a series of squeaks and growls, voicing his displeasure. The quasti did not like Lorra or Shanas since both dragonlets constantly attempted to light him on fire. The dragonlets thought it a fun game. It was obvious Charlie did not.

  Brukr did not wish to remove Hannah from medical, but he could not continue their discussion while Elle argued with both Charlie and Ivoth—Charlie for harming Ivoth and Ivoth for being an overbearing jerk. He would ask the ship about the term later. He needed to remain focused on his mate.

  He swept Hannah into his embrace, holding her high against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and gently nuzzled him. He breathed deep and drew in her crisp scent, the soft aroma that his beast recognized as his.

  His and too important to risk by allowing her discharge from medical. Yet he could not have their discussion—not argument—in the middle of the oncoming battle. He strode from the room, leaving Elle, Charlie, Ivoth, and Whelon behind while he sought a quiet, calming space. They were too far from their quarters to find peace there, plus he did not wish to stray too far from a healer. Especially when he peered at his mate and noted the color of her face. Or rather, lack of color.

  It was that paleness that had him ducking into the first empty room he found—an observation center meant for relaxation. Relaxation was not a thing known to Preor males, but since so many of them continued to find their mates, it was deemed necessary to establish areas females would enjoy. This space, with its soft colors, dimly glowing lights, and vid projection of Earth occupying one wall, was well-liked by human females.

  They had requested the installation of a kah-fee machine and a second vid display for afternoon sope ah-per-ahs. Brukr was fairly certain the females requesting ah-per-ahs made of sope were mentally deficient in some way, but he would never say so aloud.

  He padded to a large, cushioned bench near the projection—what the humans called a window seat—and lowered to the soft surface. He did not release Hannah, choosing to keep hold of his mate for a little longer.

  Forever…

  Her voice, soft and sensual inside his mind, forced an instantaneous reaction from his body. His wred hardened within his katoth pants and he gritted his teeth against the rush of stinging pain. No male liked pain—of course—but Brukr welcomed the sensation. His body craved Hannah—his mate—and he was blessed by Syh to have her in his life and by his side.

  And he would like her to remain with him. Which was why he still felt she needed to remain under Whelon’s care.

  “Shaa kouva, now that we are alone—”

  A low whoosh, the sound familiar, and he groaned. If Taulan would not become furious, he would blast the door with a ball of fire and melt the panel into place. No one could come through the door if a door did not exist.

  Hannah sensed his frustration and laughed—giggled—at his expense. He should be angry but… he was merely thankful she lived to smile for him.

  “Brukr,” she murmured and gifted him with a soft, sweet smile. A pulse of caring—love?—slipped from her heart to his and he hugged her tighter.

  They had not exchanged the words, but she had to know his heart.

  The heavy stomps of someone approaching reminded him they weren’t alone even though that was what they’d sought. He tore his attention from Hannah and swung his gaze to the room’s entry—and the male stomping in their direction.

  “Engineering Master Vende, we are—”

  The male did not even glance in their direction. He grunted and waved at Brukr, all the while glaring at the projection of Earth, a projection that disappeared without warning. One moment they had a beautiful view of the blue and green planet, and the next they saw nothing but a wall of gray.

  “By the stars, ship, you will return the view immediately,” Vende roared, pure dragon fury in his voice, and deep blue scales emerged to cover his arms and chest.

  “Programming ended unexpectedly. Diagnostics in process. Cause of interruption is to be determined, Engineering Master Vende.” Penelope’s tone was even, but Brukr recognized the system’s inaccuracy. Penelope was not programmed to lie but did occasionally experience inaccuracies.

  Brukr did not know the difference, but both Liquid Knot and War Mistress Lana assured him they were not the same.

  “Would you like to be notified of diagnostic findings?” The ship fell silent after that question, but Vende did not.

  A growl slowly built within the Engineering Master, sound so low Hannah could not hear. It would not remain quiet, though. The male’s body increased in size, shoulders expanding and muscles thickening with Vende’s rising fury. It meant his dragon’s anger would grow louder as well, until it was finally unleashed on the room.

  Something that could not happen while Hannah remained. She could be harmed while he attempted to remove Vende or if he tried to remove them from the observation room.

  “Penelope,” he murmured. “Request the presence of Triem, Radoo, and Argan.”

  Penelope countered his order. “Security warriors can be summoned—”

  “My quintet less Ivoth. Immediately.” His voice remained a low, harsh whisper.

  “Confirmed.” The ship’s voice was sharp as it snapped out the single word.

  He would almost believe he harmed her feelings, but Penelope was a machine, not a being. Though he was not sure how much longer that definition could apply to the ship.

  “You are the cause of the stars damned interruption!” Vende roared, head tipped back and mouth wide. The anger pulsed from him like a pounding drum, the beat of impending battle. “You will explain yourself now, or I shall—”

  Another entered and they all swung their attention to the newcomer—newcomers. The unmated males in Brukr’s quintet stood in the doorway—pale blue, maroon, and sun yellow crowding the space. Thankfully, none clutched their war blades. Although Triem had already lost control of his dragon, his fingertips black with his beast’s claws.

  Vende glared at the warriors, and Brukr found himself in an odd position. He wished to stand by the side of his fellow warriors, and yet… he refused to move away from Hannah. He did not understand the change, but he did not have a moment to think on its source. He did not have time to discover why a dedicated warrior’s loyalty would shift so quickly.

  “What do you want?” The air shook with the strength of Vende’s bellow.

  Argan and Triem’s attention stayed on Vende while Radoo looked to Brukr. “You summoned us?”

  Radoo’s focus drew Vende’s to them as well, and the Engineering Master narrowed his eyes at him and Hannah. “When did you arrive?”

  Brukr’s dragon stirred, his dragon’s breath swelling within his lungs while scales pushed at his skin. The beast wished to explain to Vende why it was a bad idea to glare at his mate—painfully. As if sensing his growing agitation, Hannah stroked his arm, brushing away some of his rising anger.

  Some, but not all. The feral animal remained present if not overpowering.

  Then she shifted in his grasp, wiggling on his lap, and his body responded. Even amidst impending violence, he wanted her. And when a hint of that same desire slithered over their connection, he knew she wanted him too.


  But first she had to deal with Vende.

  She? Vende? That was her thought, not his, and he would be damned by Syh before he allowed—

  Another gentle caress, her soft fingers petting his arm before she slid from his lap.

  “Hannah…”

  “Trust me,” she murmured.

  He trusted her. That did not mean he trusted an enraged Preor warrior who appeared to be breaths from turning into a dragon.

  “Vende…” A smile tinged her voice, her tone one he had heard her use often when negotiating with young Violet. She spoke to the Engineering Master as if he was a dragonlet?

  Brukr rose and repositioned himself in the room so he remained near and ready to intervene if needed. He hoped he would not have to step between his mate and Vende. The male was a Master—knowledgeable in his field and a strong warrior—but he would risk all to protect her.

  “What did Penelope do now?”

  A soft, mechanical huff ghosted through the air. Hannah’s implication obviously offended Penelope. The sound drew Vende’s ire once more, but Hannah spoke before he could release another roar.

  “I can talk to Liquid Knot for you if you just tell me what’s wrong.” Hannah smiled wide and Brukr’s dragon grumbled. It did not like her smiling at other males.

  Not when they had yet to claim her fully.

  “This stars damned ship—”

  “Don’t talk about Penelope that way.” The vid screen behind Brukr flickered to life, the voice so like Penelope’s and yet so different. It had a harsher, harder quality. There were no lilting tones, only a fast cadence that cut through the air like a war blade through flesh.

  Now they were in the middle of bickering once more.

  Brukr went to Hannah and tucked her against him, pulling her away from Vende while he became occupied by the female on the vid display. Liquid Knot—a human female despite her odd name—filled the projection. Her blonde hair fell in frizzy, large curls around her shoulders, and a pair of dark-rimmed gl-ass-iz balanced on her nose. Her eyes were a peculiar shade of purple—a color nearly matching the War Master’s scales—this day. They often changed color, but he had yet to discover why. Perhaps it was a gen mod…