Zadri (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 5)

by Celia Kyle

  No. No. He could not let the pressure of her blood rise as it had the other day.

  But her xina clung to her curves, her plump breasts strained against the constricting fabric. He recalled the taste of her nipples, the flavors of her skin on his tongue. She was lush and full, made more beautiful by the presence of their dragonlet. He did not believe he’d ever seen anything as erotic as a pregnant female—his pregnant female.

  “What have you selected for us, shaa kouva?” He said the words even though Delaney had not yet returned them, but they had time. “Where shall we go?” He pulled her forward until they touched, her undulating stomach pressed to his. Their offspring was active and that relieved him. Worry constantly attacked him along with fear that he would lose both Delaney and their young. “I have read that couples enjoy long walks on the beach. I have also seen humans frolic in large rectangles filled with water.”

  Zadri shuddered. Water. Water was deadly to a Preor, their thin wing skin unable to function when drenched. A wet Preor was a dead Preor. He wondered if that applied to senchamber water, as well. He mentally shook his head. He did not wish to find out.

  Delaney’s eyes sparkled and a tickling laugh escaped her lips. The sound lifted his heart, easing some of the tension that constantly chased him. “No, don’t worry, I’m not going to force you to walk on the beach or go swimming in a pool.” She shook her head. “There aren’t many liquid pools around anymore anyway. My parents…” Her smiled wavered and she shook her head once more. As if trying to banish those new thoughts. “It doesn’t matter.” Her wide smile turned brittle and insincere. “Ready?”

  At his nod, she tilted her head back, face turned to the room’s ceiling. “Ship? Delaney joi Zadri Sim One, please.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Zadri grinned at her. “You do not have to direct your voice up, shaa kou—“

  The scenery blurred, gray whirling with a million shades of color, enveloping them both in a mass of spinning hues. They moved faster than he could track, the whipping clouds taunting him.

  As quickly as the whirlwind of colors began, they ended, peeling away from the ceiling and fluttering to the ground in a gentle mist of solidifying hues. The gray was now painted with the senchamber’s programming. Blue skies rose high above them, true pale clouds like those on Earth blowing past by the senchamber’s wind.

  Wind that pulled at his clothing and tugged on his hair, ruffling his wings with occasional gusts. He let his attention wander further, wondering what type of place his mate decided to bring them for relaxation. All was well until he lowered his focus, staring at what surrounded them. Buildings. Building upon building crowded the ground below. And it was truly below.

  They stood atop a large structure—a sky scraper if he recalled correctly—but it was bigger than the others that surrounded them. He released Delaney and moved toward the edge of the room, a railing in place to keep others from falling. Down below, humans—he believed they were humans—hurried along st-er-eats. Loud noises from vehicles also reached them and he watched more than one hovocar nearly run down a human. It was pure chaos and it set his nerves on edge.

  “Shaa kouva, what is this place?”

  His mate slipped her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. He returned the embrace, breathing deeply when he nuzzled the top of her head. He would never get tired of her scent. It filled him with need and joy and other emotions he could not begin to explain.

  She was simply… right.

  “You told me about your past,” she murmured and pressed her cheek to his chest. “It’s time I told you about mine.”

  Delaney trembled, small body shaking, and he ran his hand down her spine. He traced her vertebrae, letting his palm linger near the upper curve of her ass for a moment before he moved on.

  “This distresses you and you are not to be distressed,” he could not stop the hint of a growl that tinged his words. “You indicated this outing would be calm.”

  She snorted and eased back, tipping her head back to meet his stare. “Calm and upset are two different things. I’m calmly about to cry my eyes out.”

  “No,” he snapped, tightening his grip while he stepped away. “I will not allow it. Whelon ordered you to take care and you shall. Ship—“

  Two delicate fingers rested against his lips, the temptation to taste her nearly overwhelming his need to get Delaney to safety—far away from whatever might upset her within the senchamber.

  “Ordering the ship to let you out is pointless.”

  Zadri spoke against her fingers, unwilling to risk touching her. He was torn between dragging her from the space and dragging her to the ground so they could make love. “I am—“

  “The defense master of the Preor Third Fleet,” she nodded. “But the ship will only respond to Taulan, his mate, or me. Whelon is aware of what we’re here to discuss.” She tapped her chest with her free hand where the sareslia rested. “If I go into distress, the monitor will remove the block and summon Whelon.” Delaney slowly moved her fingers away. “It’s time we had this talk. No miscommunication anymore. No getting snarly when you don’t like my choice because you’ll understand why I made that choice.” She cupped his face and he allowed himself to become lost in her eyes. “And hopefully, when all is said and done, you won’t try and kill anyone.”

  He could not make that promise. If his mate was this serious and concerned, he did not think what he was about to discover would bring a smile to his face.

  “You must show me this?” He narrowed his eyes. “I do not wish to be told if you are hurt in the telling, shaa kouva. Nothing is so important that you must endure pain.”

  Delaney’s hands drifted down his neck and came to rest on his chest. “It’s only a small pain for a lifetime of joy.”

  Zadri grunted. “Any pain is too much.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We’ll agree to disagree.” Then she moved away, taking two steps before holding her hand out for him. “Come with me?”

  He paused and let his gaze scan the horizon, eyes pausing on building after building. The wind ruffled his hair and stirred his wings, but no scent was carried to him on the air. A reminder that they were in a senchamber—not atop a large building.

  “Yes, shaa kouva, I shall come with you.” No matter how much he wished to run in the other direction.

  As she said, there had been too many moments of miscommunication. Too much disagreement that could have been avoided by speech. He’d read the texts on finding a mate and the Knowing, but until that moment, he had not understood the teachings. The Knowing assisted in finding mates, but it did nothing to bind them. That task was left to the male and female.

  Zadri had not failed in battle in his life. He would not fail his mate.

  In truth, he should not have made that resolution so quickly. Or at least not before he entered the building with Delaney.

  They stepped through a set of automatic doors. At first, he had not realized there even were doors, but the tiniest disruption in his vision revealed them. They were invisible and thinner than even a Preor’s wing skin. And he imagined they were much stronger than wing skin. Otherwise, they would be useless for protection.

  Then again, he was dealing with humans. While he believed his mate was perfect in every way, many humans were stupid. They made stupid purchases for stupid reasons and later regretted their stupid choices.

  Perhaps Whelon was not the only male who had spent a great deal of time around humans and adopted their speech.

  Delaney followed his gaze and ran her fingers over the thin surface. “Military nanotech. It’s illegal to manufacture because a few nanites went rogue and killed several officers by turning their bodies into armor.” She knocked on the panel, the whole door wavering in place. “It used them to make things like this.”

  Zadri did not think and merely reacted to her words, snatching her close while he released a low growl. He directed it at the nanite device, glaring at the threat to Delaney. If nanit
es had killed in the past, there was no reason they could not kill again.

  “Shhh…” Gentle fingers stroked his bare skin. “This is the senchamber, remember? And on Earth they’re encapsulated by an Araimi shield.” She shook her head. “I just need you to see it all.”

  Zadri grunted. The Araimi had the best shielding systems in all the galaxies. It was why their weapons suffered. They did not have to strike, merely defend. They could use the assistance of Rendan. The offense master had much to teach them.

  And perhaps, in exchange, they could obtain shielding technology. He could erect a shield around Delaney so—

  “Zadri?” Her lilting voice drew him from his thoughts and he glanced around, spying his mate standing beside a door on the other side of the small room.

  He strode forward, not liking that she’d gotten away so quickly and without notice. They would discuss that later. He recalled an article in ancient human history when parents used leesh-iz on their young. He would use one on Delaney. That would keep her contained. He would request the ship’s assistance in creating one once they were done.

  For now, he would keep hold of her hand.

  He twined his fingers with hers when he was close enough, unwilling for her to escape once more.

  “Show me, shaa kouva. Show me the world you have created for us.”

  17

  Delaney straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, preparing herself for what was to come.

  Over dramatize much, Delaney?

  Yes. No. Maybe.

  It wasn’t that her parents physically hurt her. They were just… heartless. Cruel. Selfish.

  Neglectful on the best of days. But at least she’d had nannies, right?

  She drew Zadri into her sterile home, the penthouse apartment she’d shared with her parents until they’d deemed her utterly unworthy of the Cole name.

  Everything was as she remembered. Her mother’s favorite Zengari crystal figurine turned exactly thirty-seven degrees on the mantle. Always thirty-seven degrees and God help the cleaning woman who didn’t replace the piece in exactly the right position. Thirty-six degrees and the sculpted, extremely expensive, crystal shined a dull orange and thirty-eight degrees made it look like a muddy blob.

  Coles did not spend a million credits for a muddy blob.

  Even if they stood in a senchamber and not her parent’s home, Delaney reached out and turned the piece, throwing the angle off kilter. She never would have dared in the past but today—with Zadri at her side—she felt like she could do anything.

  She drew him past ancient furniture, a “fainting couch” from the eighteen hundreds and a small table nearby that was even older. Both were protected by Araimi shields so a person could look but never touch.

  They moved on, shoes clicking out a slow rhythm as they walked across the room. The floor was so smooth it was nearly like a mirror of old. The white marble was polished weekly by hand until it almost looked like glass. The walls were the same, a home shaped out of stone so cold it felt like ice. Nothing decorated the solid stone, the material meant to be seen for its beauty and not to display other items.

  More proof of their wealth. More millions—billions—of credits wasted.

  She turned left at the first hallway, her mate keeping pace with her shorter strides while they drew closer to their destination. At the end, she turned right and then left again, weaving through the twisting, turning halls. Zadri remained silent, quietly moving in her wake. The only sound to break through the quiet was the rustle of his peach wings.

  They stood in front of the final door, a pale panel that glittered with an Araimi shield—or did it? The flat surface glittered and sparkled while the others in the house remained flat and clear. She ran her fingers over the smoothness, small ripples trailing her touch. Just as it had when she’d lived at home—the nanites welcoming her while it tolerated the others in the household. Delaney’s nanites were more like playmates than an expensive door. They’d deactivated the Araimi shields with ease and only projected the appearance of captivity.

  Delaney didn’t have human friends growing up, she had… nanites.

  They remained in place outside her childhood bedroom—quiet and still—until Zadri spoke. “Shaa kouva? All is well?”

  He broke the spell surrounding them, the trance she’d fallen into while she greeted her old friends—of sorts.

  “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

  He grunted and she grinned. She’d learned the different inflections of his grunts now. Was able to differentiate annoyance, disbelief, and frustration without a problem.

  It’d been difficult to explain her interactions with her nanites to the ship, so she’d programmed an identipad for use in the experience. One press and then were granted entrance to her own version of hell.

  They stepped into the pristine space, more white marble coating the floors and walls. Every piece of furniture was just as barren—utter lack of color permeating the room. Well, rooms. If Delaney was going to be kept out of sight from her parents’ guests, she needed more than one room for herself.

  In truth, she had her own mini-apartment within her parents’ home.

  “I’m sorry, but I do not understand what it is you are showing me, shaa kouva.”

  Yeah, she knew that and she gave Zadri a reassuring smile. “C’mon.”

  He furrowed his brow but finally nodded and she returned to her path. Through her own sitting room. Then the small dining area and on to the kitchen. Yes, even as a baby, she’d had her own kitchen.

  She didn’t stop until they entered her bedroom. There, on the pale bed, a miniature version of her sat on the edge of the mattress in a frilly white dress, her hair tied with a white ribbon and delicate white shoes on her feet. Thin legs hung off the sides, hands folded in her lap, back straight and neck elongated. Coles were regal. They did not slouch. They did not fidget. They did not have a hair out of place. Their skin was peaches and cream and if it wasn’t, a healer was called in to make it so. If that didn’t help, Cole Pharma—her family’s pharmacological empire—would create something. They would go to endless lengths for perfection. Even biologically engineer their own child—her.

  “This is me.” Delaney gestured at the miniature version of herself. She remembered that itchy fabric, the tight shoes, and painful pull of her hair on her scalp as the dresser whipped it into shape. She stared at the young girl, remembering. “And it was my monthly visit with my parents.”

  Zadri jerked. “Monthly?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. On the first of every month, they would come and visit.”

  And they’d hated leap years. It threw the Cole’s schedule right off. She’d secretly enjoyed those days.

  He released her hand and moved toward the holographic little girl. He stood at her side, the program not acknowledging him. “You cannot be more than six turnings.”

  She shook her head. “Just shy of five. My birthday was on the second.” She tipped her head toward the girl. “The very next day, actually.”

  And hadn’t that annoyed her mother. Remembering her daughter’s birthday was on the second instead of the first—Coles were always first in everything—was difficult.

  The click of her parents’ shoes on the tile announced their approach and the digital representations of her mom and dad strode into the space. Her mate took a step back, but didn’t go far, standing near where her parents stopped.

  Where her parents stared down at her.

  Young Delaney tilted her head back and stared at the two adults. “Mother. Father.”

  “Delaney Collins.” Her father’s deep voice wasn’t so deep when she compared it to Zadri’s. “You appear well enough.”

  “Yes, sir.” Delaney sat that much straighter. Well enough was a compliment from him.

  Her mother harrumphed, though in public she’d deny she ever made such a sound. It was undignified. “Her nose is too pointed.” Her mother turned to her father. “Don’t you agree? She’s turn
ing into a throwback to your mother’s father’s uncle.” She sniffed. “Disgusting. You must correct it, Winston.”

  Young Delaney wasn’t going to cry. Coles didn’t cry, but her mother wanted her to go through another…

  Her father bent slightly at the waist and gripped her chin, forcing her head to turn right and then left. “Tomorrow.”

  He released her and stepped back before turning his back to her. Delaney’s mother did the same and the two strode from the room, side by side. Less than five minutes had passed from entrance to exit.

  Still, at four—but almost five—Delaney didn’t cry about having to go through yet another sculpting session. Sculpting. That was what they called it. Illegal to perform on a minor, but anything could be purchased for a price.

  What would follow—on her birthday—was the fourth sculpting session in her life. Fourth of eventually many.

  “I do not understand,” Zadri murmured and she went to him, sliding beneath his arm and leaning into his side.

  “Just watch.”

  The images around them blurred, the senchamber washing away the white walls only to replace them. This time, Delaney was a couple of years older. She was still dressed in white, but the frills had been replaced with pencil skirts and tailored blouses. Low heeled shoes covered her feet, legs crossed at the ankles and slightly tilted to the side. Her hair was curled into a perfect chignon, makeup understated, and a single string of pale pearls at her throat. Real pearls—the Coles didn’t wear knock offs or engineered imitations.

  She was demure perfection in all its glory.

  “They only came every other month when I turned ten. I’m twelve here.”

  Delaney squinted at the hologram, staring at the tip of her nose. She knew what was to come, but even now, she tried to see what her mother disliked. She couldn’t spy a thing.

  The familiar click and clack came again, steps measured and strides in unison as her parents entered. Her mother looked the same where her father had a few strands of silver in his dark hair. She’d overheard them talking about his appearance once and he’d soothed her mother’s arguments with a single sentence.