Vorik: A Scifi Storm Dragon Romance

by Natalie Kristen

  I grab the male by the collar and fling him towards the far wall. He groans and slides down the wall, stunned and dazed.

  With that out of the way, I focus on the human woman.

  Two large, hazel eyes stare up at me, and I try to tamp down my rage at the sight of her injuries.

  I take a step towards her, but she flinches and scrambles away. Her eyes are showing so much fear and pain, and I have to force myself not to reach for her and make all the pain go away.

  Her skin is pale and sporting cuts and bruises all over. There is blood trickling from her temple and her pink lips are broken and bleeding. Tendrils of wavy, brown hair cling to her face and neck.

  This small human female is the most exquisite, beautiful, perfect creature I have ever seen.

  I hear her whimper in fright as she looks up at my face. I realize that she is seeing the lightning in my eyes and I take a deep breath and force the silver glow to fade from my eyes.

  Lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating my face. The woman stills for a moment, gazing up at me with her mouth open.

  I catch the movement just as the woman turns to look over her shoulder. The human male has grabbed a rusty blade off the floor and is charging towards us.

  I can move much faster than him and my fist is already around his wrist. There is the snap of bone and the knife drops from his hand.

  I yank one of the silver plates from my chest and press the edge against the man's neck. The plate is about the size of my palm, and the edge is razor sharp. It will slice through flesh and bone like...butt-tar. I know that butt-tar is a smooth, yellow, edible substance and from what we have observed and the communications we have intercepted, the humans seem to love it.

  The male makes a high-pitched sound which does not sound at all masculine. He tries to grab my arm, but his grip is weak, slippery and ineffectual. “Don't kill me, please don't kill me...” he rasps.

  “Kill,” I say flatly.

  I have mastered some human languages. Storm dragons are fast learners. I can speak his language, but I don't see the need to waste words on him.

  I just need to get my point across.

  A single word is enough to make him understand my intent.

  The scent of fear and desperation comes off him in waves. He knows his life is about to end.

  “No!”

  I stay my hand at the female's shout.

  I frown at her. Why no? She does not want me to kill her enemy?

  “Enemy,” I snarl.

  She shakes her head rapidly. “No, no, no. Just no!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cassie

  I shake my head at the extremely tall, broad, muscular man who appeared out of nowhere and rushed to my rescue.

  Everything happened so fast. One second that thug was on top of me, trying to rape me. The next second, he was in a heap at the foot of the wall.

  My rescuer is big and scary, but in a good way. His muscles are well-defined and his bronze skin is marked with numerous scars. His clothes are a bit odd though. But they suit him. They make him look seriously badass.

  I thought his eyes were silver before, but maybe it was just my imagination. His eyes are emerald green and his features are all sharp, fierce angles and lines. So is his body.

  I don't know if he noticed me ogling him. I may have taken a couple of hits to the head, but my eyes are still working fine. I can see how perfect his physique is, and how good-looking he is, especially when the lightning highlights his handsome profile.

  His black pants mold to his long, corded legs and his torso is half-covered with shimmering inter-locking metal plates. His thick, muscular arms glisten as he moves and I catch a faint design over his skin. They look a bit like scales, but I can't be sure.

  Not only is he good to look at, he is impressive in action.

  His movements are incredibly, almost superhumanly fast and deadly.

  He moved so swiftly and silently, I hadn't even seen him coming into the alley. He simply hauled my would-be rapist off me and flung him away like a sack of trash.

  And right now he has one of those metal plates pressed against the thug's throat.

  Those metal plates are not just for show. I thought they were just part of his costume, but I thought wrong.

  I can see a line of blood appearing at the man's throat, and I can see the stark pain and terror in his eyes.

  “No!”

  My rescuer freezes at my shout.

  He shoots me a look of confusion and disgust.

  “Enemy,” he snarls, increasing the pressure on the man's throat and drawing more blood.

  “No, no, no.” I shake my head quickly, hoping to stop him before he slices into the man's jugular. “Just no!”

  My rescuer growls and holds the man hostage for another few seconds. Then he raises his arm and slashes at the man's face. A long line cuts diagonally across from the man's temple to his jaw. It is a shallow cut made with extraordinary precision and control.

  My hand flies to my mouth. If he had exerted just a little more force, he would have sliced the man's face cleanly in half.

  The thug stumbles away from us, whimpering in horror and agony. He doesn't even dare look at me as he makes his escape from the alley.

  I listen to the echo of the man's frantic footsteps and release a shaky breath. Turning around, I find myself eye to chest with my rescuer.

  I tilt my head all the way back so I can look him in the eye and thank him properly.

  The guy is tall, very, very tall. Maybe...seven feet tall.

  “T-thank you,” I manage to stutter. “Thank you for saving me.”

  He nods.

  I take a step back and offer my hand. “I'm Cassandra. Cassandra Day.”

  His huge hand engulfs mine. He holds my hand in his for a long moment. He doesn't shake my hand, just holds it with a look of wonder and pleasure on his face.

  I try not to wince as I gently tug my hand free from his grasp. I don't want to be rude to my rescuer, but his behavior is a little odd, to say the least.

  “What's your name?” I say casually as I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out of the alley. I try not to appear to be in too much of a hurry, but I really need to get out of this shitty alley and be on my way. But I find I can't walk that quickly. My body is hurting all over. I just want to get home, clean myself up and go to bed. It has been a long night, but with my hero's appearance, my night has improved somewhat.

  “Vorik.”

  I turn at the sound of his deep voice. When he is not growling and snarling, he sounds surprisingly gentle.

  I smile at him. “Thanks for saving me, Vorik.” I allow myself to step closer to him. I check out Vorik's costume—I can only assume he is wearing a costume, because seriously, who would go around dressed like that, in black pants which almost look like it's part of his skin and shimmering metal plates? Did he just come from a costume party?

  His costume shows off his ripped, defined physique to great advantage. His intense green eyes seem to be ringed with silver, and he is sporting a short, military cut. His golden hair has a purplish tinge to it. It looks really cool.

  I can't stop my eyes from trailing slowly down his handsome face and roving all over his big, hard body. I squint at his arm and notice the scale-like pattern under his skin. A faded tattoo, perhaps? Or maybe it's just some very clever stage makeup.

  I snap my fingers, and huff out a laugh as I point at him.

  Of course! With his costume and his movie-star good looks, why didn't I make the connection earlier?

  “You're an actor!” I exclaim.

  Vorik stares at me.

  “Are you in a stage play? Or are you acting in a mini-series? A movie?” My eyes bug.

  The corner of Vorik's lips curve. I suck in a breath. His smile is so, so sexy.

  But just as quickly and unexpectedly as his smile appears, it disappears.

  I blink and it's gone. Just like that.

  I shrug. That's not a big de
al.

  Some people just don't like to smile, while others go around smiling at everyone. And honestly, I'd much rather have no smile than a fake smile any day.

  Vorik may be an actor, but he's not fake. I just know it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cassie

  “So, can you tell me the name of your play?” I ask as I continue walking down the street. “It's been a long time since I watched a play.”

  I sneak a sidelong glance at Vorik when he doesn't answer. The big guy is just walking stiffly and silently beside me. He seems reluctant to offer information about himself.

  Maybe he doesn't want his fans to recognize him. And after he saved my life tonight, I am definitely a fan. I am so going to watch all his shows.

  Or...maybe he is one of those method actors, and he wants to remain in character even after the show is over. He looks really serious and intense, totally dedicated to his craft.

  I totally respect that. Vorik is an artiste, a professional, a true thespian.

  I prattle on to fill the silence. I name some of my favorite movies and books, and try to get him to tell me more about himself.

  I stop mid-sentence when Vorik puts his hand on my elbow and turns me around to face him.

  I blink up at him in surprise. His expression is grim as he stares at my numerous colorful bruises.

  I don't need a mirror to tell that I am black, blue and purple all over. Plus, my lip is split, and I can feel one side of my face beginning to swell.

  “I guess I look like an alien, huh,” I say with a wince.

  “He hurt you.” Vorik's voice is low and dangerous, thrumming with leashed fury.

  I stare at him for a moment. Is that why he's been so silent all this time? He's been worrying for me? His anger is genuine, and I can't believe that a stranger would be so angry and outraged on my behalf. No one has ever cared whether I got hurt or not. No one has ever looked out for me.

  I manage a smile. “You're sweet,” I say softly. “You're a very sweet man, Vorik.”

  “Sweet?” He looks confused.

  “Yes. You're very kind to me.”

  Vorik reaches out and takes my hands. His jaw is clenched tightly as he examines my bruised, bleeding knuckles and the abrasions on my palms.

  I carefully slide my hands out of his grip when I notice his expression becoming dark and dangerous. The guy is really, really intense.

  “Don't worry about me,” I chirp. “I'll heal. I don't break easily. If I did...” I sigh and shake away the memories. “I wouldn't be here.”

  Vorik presses his fingers against one of the metal plates over his chest.

  “That's a pretty dangerous costume you're wearing,” I remark. “Those plates are really sharp...”

  My eyes round when I see the metal plates changing color. The plates change from silver to pale green.

  “Woah,” I sputter. “How...”

  Vorik removes his hand from his breastplate and steps up to me. Gently, he presses his fingers to my forehead and slowly moves his hands down my face.

  His large hands feel so warm and soothing. I can only stare up at him in shock as he moves his fingers over my forehead, my eyes, nose and lips, touching my battered face with infinite tenderness. The throbbing pain in my cheek fades. My head no longer hurts, and I can feel all my muscles relaxing.

  I almost sob at the welcome relief.

  His touch feels so, so good. I lean towards him as he moves his hands from my shoulders to my arms.

  My arms stop aching and hurting at his touch. I glance down and see the cuts and bruises fading and vanishing before my very eyes.

  Vorik runs his thumb across my lips and I shiver involuntarily. The gesture is so intimate and sensual.

  He leans in and for an instant, I wonder if he is going to kiss me.

  But he only looks me over carefully and asks, “Any pain? Anywhere?”

  I take a deep breath. “No.” I shake my head slowly, disbelievingly. “No pain. You...you healed me. But...how? What...”

  What just happened?

  What did he do to me?

  “That—” I point shakily at the metal plates he is wearing. “—isn't a costume,” I stammer. “And you—are not an actor.”

  “I never said I was.”

  I inhale sharply. That's the longest sentence he has uttered so far.

  I should back away, but I find myself frozen to the spot.

  “Who are you?” I whisper.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Vorik

  I see the suspicion in her eyes, and a trace of fear which she tries to hide. I don't know if my answer will frighten her, but I won't lie to her.

  “I am a storm dragon,” I answer her question. “And Commander of the Seventh Squadron.”

  “Storm...dragon,” she repeats, looking me up and down. “Seventh Squadron? What does that even mean? Is that the name of a club, a gang…?”

  I shake my head and point at her. “You are human. I am dragon.”

  “Riiiiight.” I can see that she doesn't believe me. “So, you're a storm dragon. Is that what you're telling me?”

  She looks skeptical and leery. She is doubting my words and my sanity. I decide that the only way to convince her that I am telling the truth is to just show her my other form.

  Holding her gaze, I step back and lower myself to a crouch. Then I leap into the air, shifting into dragon form at the same time.

  I shoot into the sky, before banking sharply. She is staring up at me as I fly in a tight circle. The storm clouds start gathering around me and lightning flashes twice as I swoop down towards her.

  Shifting back to human form, I drop in front of her and stand up.

  “Holy shit!” she exclaims.

  “What?” I understand the meaning of the individual words, but together, they make no sense whatsoever.

  Her mouth opens, closes, opens again. She makes some sounds but they are not coherent words.

  “You're shitting me, right?” she splutters at last.

  I shake my head. Human languages are stranger than I thought.

  “Oh my God!” she gasps. “You...you're serious! You're fucking serious!”

  I inhale sharply and carefully taste the air with my tongue. But there is no scent of her arousal and hunger to mate. “Fuck,” I growl, aware that I am becoming painfully hard. She has just put the image of us fucking in my head. And it has been a very, very long time since I have had a female…

  But she doesn't notice the huge, throbbing bulge in the front of my pants. She stares into my eyes and nods slowly to herself.

  “Yes, yes,” she mutters. “I see it. The silver. I thought it was just the light.” She swallows hard and asks, “You're not from around here, are you?”

  “No.”

  She gulps. “So...where are you from?” Her tone is light and casual but I can see that she is holding her breath.

  “Svaata.”

  “Svaata. Of course.” She flaps her hands and starts fanning herself.

  “Calm down, Cassie,” she mumbles to herself. “Svaata is a country, a country you've never heard of. Right?” Her pitch rises. “Right?”

  I realize that her question is directed at me.

  “No,” I reply. “Svaata is a planet.”

  “A planet. Of course! Of course it's a planet!” she squeaks. “Where…?”

  “Svaata is seven hundred and eighty-nine billion miles from Earth.”

  She blinks at me repeatedly.

  “You are an alien,” she whispers at last. “An alien storm dragon.”

  “Yes.”

  She looks up at the sky, then back at me. “The lightning, thunder, wind...it was you...” She gasps. “You can control storms.”

  I nod.

  “And this...this armor you're wearing, it's alien technology. It healed me,” she breathes.

  “Cass-shaun-draa Day,” I say quietly. I am sure I have mangled her name, but she doesn't look offended. Instead, she gives me a quick smile and say, “Cas
sie. Call me Cassie.”

  “Cassie.” I am surprised at how much pleasure it gives me to say her name. “Cassie.”

  She looks at me and gives me a strange, lopsided smile. “Just my luck,” she mutters. “I thought I just met the man of my dreams. But it turns out, you're an alien.” She lets out a short, brittle laugh.

  There is no joy, no humor at all in her laugh. “You know, no one has ever saved me or protected me before. You're the first person, ever, to look out for me. And you healed me. You stopped all the hurt and pain,” she says softly. “It doesn't matter that you're an alien, Vorik. You are the bestest man I've met in all my years on Earth.” She holds up one palm. “Truth.”

  The Commlink on my wrist vibrates. I glance at it and see the message. I need to return to the ship at once. We are running low on energy, and we can't keep circling Earth and the nearby planets. There is just enough energy left to get us back to Svaata.

  But I don't want to leave Cassie behind.

  “Cassie. My ship.” I point it out to her. From Earth, it looks like a star in the sky, a star with a slightly reddish hue.

  “You're leaving,” she says matter-of-factly, but I see the sadness in her smile.

  She doesn't want me to leave. And I don't want to leave her.

  Cassie is special. She is extremely smart and level-headed. I have just shown her my dragon form, and told her that I am not from her world. Yet she is unfazed and unafraid. Cassie looks young, but I have seen how tough and brave she is. I know she will be able to survive anywhere.

  I stretch out my hand to her. “Come with me. To Svaata.”

  Cassie sucks in a breath. “You're asking me to leave...Earth?”

  “Yes.”

  “And go to your planet, Svaata?”

  “Yes. Come with me, Cassie. Come...home.”

  “Home.” She looks up at me and says wryly, “Funny you should use that word. I've never had a home.”

  I resist the urge to grab her hand. “Cassie,” I say urgently. I have to leave now, but I need her to leave with me.