A size sixteen, Cheyenne didn’t exactly have the body of a runner. Still, she really liked running. All the villagers back home were used to seeing her running through the reservation. They didn’t stare. They didn’t laugh. But she knew the city wouldn’t treat her so kindly. She’d forgo the track suit, the comfortable, form-fitting, non-chafing lycra she usually wore, in favor of baggy running shorts and oversized t-shirt.
After going up to her room in the hotel and conference center, Cheyenne exited through the lobby. The slow jog she started out with felt good. The muscles of her calves, then thighs, then abs tingled warmly. She tried to imagine her feet meeting with the compacted sand of the reservation roads instead of the unyielding, sticky pavement of the city. She tried to imagine the feel of the night breeze of the desert on her sweaty, slick skin. She tried, but she couldn’t shake the reality of the oppressive heat that rose in visible waves from the tar and dirty metal of the city. She tried to hear the noises of her town, the men and women talking on porches, children laughing in the driveways. She tried, but all she could hear were car horns, music, and indecipherable, angry voices that floated out of the bars and restaurants and late-night cafes. Unable to bear the uncompromising noise any longer, she made her way toward the business and warehouse district of the city. That section would be abandoned this time of night. She was aware that she was putting herself at some degree of risk, a woman alone in a deserted area of a city at night, but that area wasn’t well-known for crime, and Cheyenne wouldn’t be there long anyway. She just had to get away from the overwhelming noises, smells, and heat.
She passed empty lots and abandoned warehouses before coming upon an enormous, state-of-art building with a glass front. The building, marked Gen-Ex Labs, was so incredibly out of place in this district it gave her chills. She picked up her pace. As she reached the far corner of the building, she thought she heard a faint sound.
There it was again. A low moan, perhaps?
She focused her attention on the quiet of the night. A low groan, louder this time, was unmistakable, emerging from the shadows of an alley. She knew she should just keep running. This wasn’t the reservation, it was a city. She was a woman alone. The groans could be coming from anyone—a killer, a mugger, a drug addict in a crazed state. But, when the person in the shadows moaned again, she recognized it instantly as a moan of pain. She was familiar with that sound. She had heard many, many moans of pain. Too many recently. She knew them all too well. Whomever was in the alley was hurt, and she couldn’t walk away. Cheyenne stopped running. She snuck to the edge of the building, peering around the corner.
“Is anyone there?” she asked, edging into the alleyway one tip-toe at a time. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness before her. The only reply was another groan. She took a few more steps. Yet another groan, this time more intense, the sound of extreme pain. She crept toward the sound, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. When she saw a nude male figure lying on the ground, she rushed forward. Blood ran freely from under the right side of his torso.
“Is the wound on your back?” she asked.
The man nodded in response to her question. As her eyes continued to adjust, his facial features sharpened into view. She could see his strong nose, his full lips, his unnaturally blue eyes. She was momentarily frozen, dazed, as if in a trance. She knew that face. This was the man she had been dreaming about for as long as she could remember.
“Virlek?” Cheyenne whispered, eyes wide.
“Cheyenne?” the man replied, his words labored.
Cheyenne snapped out of her trance. She reached out, intending to help him roll over but as soon as her fingers touched his flesh, they began to tingle. The tingling shot up her arms, to her chest, and centered in her heart. Her breath was stolen from her. The pool of blood underneath Virlek shrank until it disappeared.
The tingling sensation abated and Cheyenne gasped sucking in a huge gulp of air as she jerked her hands from Virlek’s skin. At the same time, he sprung to his feet, completely healed. He stared into her eyes, his gaze boring deep into her soul, as she watched him transform. The transformation started at his chest, his tan skin becoming dark-blue scales. spreading out to his arms, up over his face, down his abdomen, hips, thighs, shins, feet. Cheyenne noticed that he suddenly had wings. His mouth grew and sported a set of sharp, flashing teeth.
Virlek, the man of her dreams, had transformed into a dragon.
With a snap of his enormous leathery wings, he flew away, leaving Cheyenne kneeling in the shadow of the alleyway.
Chapter Three
Virlek paced the metal floor of the docking bay. After the fight with the Gen-Ex soldiers, he, Zarek, Jandric, and Aubrey had flown to the outer limits of the Milky Way where the Plarizakian fleet was awaiting them. The crew members were docked on a hospital ship waiting for Aubrey to recover from her wounds. Once her recovery was complete, their ship would take its position of honor at the front of the caravan. Their ship would be one of the few ships leading the Plarizakians to their newly discovered home planet.
Virlek should have been celebrating such an honor, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Cheyenne, the woman from his dreams, his mate. He couldn’t get the real-life memories of her full lips, her prominent nose, her high cheekbones, her raven hair out of his mind. Cheyenne, the real woman, had surpassed even his most vivid dreams about her. Yet, he couldn’t return for her. He had to lead his own people to their home where all would finally, after a long, trying ordeal, have a chance to find happiness and fulfillment. All except him. After having come face to face with his mate, the thought of living without Cheyenne was destroying him.
The inner door of the bay opened and Zarek entered. Both men wore the same uniform—a white vest with white tear-away pants.
“Virlek, what is wrong?” Zarek’s voice was soft.
Virlek went back to repairing the ship. He picked up a laser welder and one of the ships smaller outer panels. He held the panel in place before positioning the laser. Zarek put his hand on Virlek’s. He took the welder.
“Put it down,” Zarek said, referring to the panel. Virlek did as Zarek asked. “Sit.”
Zarek pointed to one of the benches that lined the wall of the single-ship docking bay. Both men sat.
“What’s wrong, Virlek?” Zarek asked again.
Virlek stared blankly toward the ship before shaking his head and speaking. “Nothing that can be fixed, my friend.”
“Tell me,” Zarek said.
“There’s no point,” Virlek answered.
“You’re my closest friend,” Zarek tried again. “Please.”
Virlek studied his friend. Zarek had been a great pillar of strength and support for him so many times. Before their desert planet had been flooded by the water-breathing Nefarianics, Virlek had been nothing but trouble. A wild dragon. A transient, a thief, a drunk. He had no family, no friends, nobody, and that was fine. He hadn’t wanted anybody. When the Nefarianics attacked, Virlek had two choices: play by the Council’s rules, or die.
Unfortunately, the Council didn’t have a position that matched his skill set. But Zarek remembered Virlek. They had been friends long ago in childhood, and Zarek had seen Virlek’s potential. Zarek gave him a maintenance position on his ship, and to everyone’s surprise, Virlek’s quick mind, bold, daring nature, and electronic prowess had proved beneficial for more than thievery. Virlek had worked his way up to Weapon’s Officer, an honored and respectable position, and he owed everything he had become to Zarek. That’s why he had such a hard time saying no to the man, especially when he threw around such terms as “closest friend” and “please.”
“When we were on Earth,” Virlek began, “after the fight at the lab, I was shot while in humanoid form. I was dying, and I would be dead now if it weren’t for…” He paused for a moment. “A woman healed me. I mean, she touched me. She touched me and my wounds just healed. Instantaneously. Zarek…” he turned his head and looked straight into his friend’s eyes
, “It was her.”
“Who?” Zarek asked, a familiar feeling rising in his stomach. He thought he knew, and the thought saddened him to the point of feeling sick. He had asked Virlek about his mate dreams, and Virlek had described them. Still, he didn’t want to believe it. They couldn’t go back to Earth. The Plarizakians had to get to their new planet as quickly as possible. Their people’s lives depended it.
“Her.” Virlek said, his voice low. He stared blankly at the ship’s outer panel in his hand again. “It was Cheyenne, and yes, I’m aware that we can’t go back for her.”
Zarek didn’t say anything for a while. There was nothing to say. Nothing that would help, anyway.
“Well,” Virlek finally broke the silence. “I guess we should get some sleep, huh?”
The two silently entered their ship with the intention of acquiring rest.
Virlek had barely closed his eyes in sleep when the dream began. He saw a cluster of run-down buildings surrounded by an open desert. The dream took him past several shacks and rusted hunks of metal that had once been human automobiles, finally setting his feet down on the front porch of a large, two-story building with dirty, white, peeling paint. Beside the door was a sign: Dr. Cheyenne Skye. Something propelled him through the front door. The room to his right held a desk surrounded by shelves of files. In the room on the left was an observation table and cabinets containing medical equipment.
The dream swept him up the stairs. He felt his body transforming, changing, and when we looked down, he saw that he was wearing a white jacket—a doctor’s coat. He also had sprouted large, feminine breasts. He reached up to touch his hair, bringing a strand in front of his face. The hair was long, black, and shiny. At the head of the stairs, he saw a full-sized mirror. His mouth opened in shock as he saw his reflection. Cheyenne.
He didn’t have time to linger on the reflection, though. He heard whimpers coming from a room on the right. He walked to the door, opening it slowly. The room was set up like a hospital. Cots lined the walls. Children, their faces sweaty with fever, filled the cots. Boils covered every inch of the children’s exposed skin—large, oozing boils. He passed a girl, averting his eyes when he saw stumps where legs would have been.
Virlek heard whimpering again. He looked around trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound. It was coming from a dark-haired boy of about 9-years. The boy coughed, opening his eyes as Virlek approached.
“Can I have water, Dr. Skye?” the boy asked, looking at Virlek. That’s when Virlek saw the boy’s eye. His pupil and iris were covered by a liquid-filled boil.
A woman wearing a nurse’s uniform, entered the room.
“Susan’s waiting for you,” the nurse whispered. “She’s not doing well.”
When Virlek re-entered the hall, his body changed again. He was now himself again, and Cheyenne stood before him.
“There are ten rooms full of patients,” Cheyenne said, her eyes pleading. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Virlek’s body transformed again. He now wore a hospital gown. The pain hit him all at once. His skin burned like boiling tar. Blisters rose on his legs, his stomach, his arms. He reached toward his face as a blinding pain shot through his right eye. The boil kept growing, the pain knocking Virlek to his knees.
“Virlek!” It was Zarek’s voice. Virlek tried to answer him, but couldn’t drag himself from the haze. The torment of the boils was relentless. The pain paralyzed him. He could only listen as medical officers entered his quarters and transported him to the ship’s medical bay.
Chapter Four
Cheyenne’s alarm jolted her out of the dream. She felt as though her body was on fire. A searing pain shot through her right eye. Though partly awake, she could still hear echoing dream voices.
“Put him under!” a female voice commanded. “His fever is out of control. Quick! Administer the injection.”
She felt the sting of a needle in her arm, though there was no one in the room with her. The needle prick woke her fully, and finally the voices ceased.
After showering and dressing, Cheyenne made her way across the dusty reservation to the council building. The elders and leaders of her tribe were already seated around the table that half-filled the small structure.
“Welcome back, Dr. Skye,” Chief Artie greeted her.
“Thank you,” Cheyenne answered as she took her seat at the table. Cheyenne looked around. She saw the expectant smiles, the hopeful glimmer in the eyes of the people she respected most. She couldn’t hold any of their stares. She looked at the table top in front of her.
“It’s not good,” she sighed. “We didn’t get any funding. Everyone wanted to know why we don’t just move to the city and use their hospital.”
“But—our land—our people—” an elder tried to say before giving up.
“I know,” Cheyenne whispered, still staring at the table. “I know. I’m sorry. I failed.”
“You didn’t fail,” a man said, his voice quiet but strong. Cheyenne looked up this time. Elder Bear rarely spoke, and when he did, all listened. “There is more, Cheyenne. I see in your eyes, in your soul. There is more.”
“No,” Cheyenne said. She didn’t want to contradict him, but there was no more. There was no hope. She felt that. She saw it in the eyes of the men and women around her. Their hearts and souls were broken, just like hers. “There’s no more. We can’t get funding. This was our last chance.”
“No,” Elder Bear said patiently. “Something has changed you. What is it? What is it that has happened?”
Cheyenne’s couldn’t help but think of her encounter with Virlek.
“Yes,” Elder Bear smiled. “That twinkling in your eyes. It’s not a bright twinkle. It barely shows, but it is there. What is it?”
“I saw,” Cheyenne paused, not knowing how to explain what she saw. “I saw a man. He was hurt. I stopped to help him. He was bleeding, almost dead. When I saw his face…his face was the face of a man I have been dreaming about for a long time, since I was a girl. When I touched him, he healed. He healed. He stood up, but…”
“What happened next?” Elder Bear asked.
“He…he stood up. He turned into a dragon and flew away.”
She expected everyone to laugh at her.
The room was silent for a moment. Then, the murmurs began.
“The legends,” one man started.
“The dragons,” another added.
“The Guardians,” a woman said.
There were many legends associated with the Guardians, though a good many of the details had been lost through the generations. In the version Cheyenne remembered, the Guardians were described as dragon men. The dragon men had rescued the tribe when the ancestors’ planet had been destroyed. The Guardians, it was told, would return if the tribe ever needed them.
Aside from Elder Bear, the oldest man in the tribe, no one took the legends as truth, at least not until now. Now, in their desperation, Cheyenne thought to herself, they were willing to believe anything. Cheyenne certainly wanted to.
“Cheyenne has met a Guardian,” Elder Bear declared. “There is hope.”
Cheyenne dreamt of Virlek again that night. This time, he was stretched out on a hospital bed. She reached out to take his hand, but hesitated when she noticed the boils. Her desire to touch him overrode her hesitation, but instead of taking his hand, she reached for the skin of cheek. Her fingers immediately tingled. As it had in the alley, the tingling made its way up her arm and to her heart. As the tingling intensified, the boils on Virlek’s skin began to slowly subside. His eyes fluttered open. The tingling sensation stopped.
Cheyenne was about to pull away when Virlek reached up and grasped her wrist before covering the top of her hand with his palm. Her hand cupped his cheek.
“Don’t leave,” he whispered, turning his head to get a better look at her. She knew this was a dream, whether the legends were true or not, but it felt so real. He rolled over slightly so he could gently stroke her face with his other
hand. They stayed that way, looking into each other’s eyes for a long moment. His irises were several shades of blue, each outer layer darker than the one it circled.
Virlek sat up, his long legs dangling over the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry about your people,” he said. She melted into his arms as they encircled her and drew her into his chest. She was lost in his scent, a mix of cinnamon, fire, smoke, and a cold wind.
“What do you know of my people?” She asked, pulling away to look into his eyes again.
“Shhhh….” He hushed her, touching her lips, tracing them with his finger. “I need time to think. Right now, just dream.”
Right. Dream. This was just a dream. With that thought, she let Virlek draw her in again. This time, she let her head rest against his heavily muscled chest. He ran his fingers down her back, tracing her spine over the cloth of her night shirt. She kissed his neck breathing in his male scent before moving her lips to the hollow behind his ear. Then, she ran her tongue around the ridges of his ear. Virlek reached behind her, and in a fluid motion, slid her shirt off over her head, her heavy breasts tumbling out of the garment. She stood before him topless, her tan nipples tightening to pebbles from exposure to the cool air. Her long black hair tickled the skin of her back and arms. He traced the bottom curve of one of her breasts, while his other arm slid around her waist to draw her back to him. He cupped her breast and brought his tongue down to lave over it. She shivered, tilting her head back, releasing a small moan.
Virlek ran his hands down to her waist, out over the flesh of her hips, and down to the apex between her thighs. He pushed her legs apart a little, and her body willingly obeyed. He slid his hand under her panties and caressed her lower lips with his fingers, her upper lips with his tongue. As he thrust his warm tongue into her mouth, he separated her lower lips and began circling her clitoris. Cheyenne let out another breath. She ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of his, then the bottom, then the other edge. She lifted her leg, putting one foot on the edge of the bed allowing his finger to enter her, following the slow rhythm of her tongue in his mouth. Gentle waves of pleasure were making their way from her hips to her core. She gyrated her hips, forcing his finger deeper inside her.
BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection) Page 150