by Celia Kyle
“Ivoth, what are you doing?” She did not sound injured or in pain, only sad.
Others had told him sadness could be painful. He would tell her to cease being sad.
But there was still the wound on her shoulder.
He pushed on the overlay with both snout and claw, his eyes missing nothing as the iridescence traveled down to the earth and disappeared beneath the dirt. He did not see a generator to power the shield and glared at the manicured grass. What was being done to hide the power supply?
“What do you want?” she shouted at him once more. Yet this time, she placed her hand over her shoulder—over the blood-stained bandaging. Why had Chashan not— “Well?” she snapped at him, impatience filling her tone.
The dragon narrowed its eyes, the feral beast not liking the way she spoke, but Elle didn’t seem to care. No, instead, she yelled louder, shouted even harder, and looked as if she’d gladly send him on his final flight.
Elle appeared capable of doing much violence—until she collapsed to her knees, hands lifted to cradle her face, and the distinct sound of sobs reached her ears. He knew the cries of the wounded, the devastated, the dying.
Elle did not wish for death, but that did not mean it did not hide within her mind.
A mind he could not reach if he could not speak, a mind that remained elusive to the still-shifted Ivoth. The dragon stepped back, its consciousness retreating in the face of Elle’s need for a different kind of support—the kind that included arms and wings wrapped around a female in comfort.
Distantly he knew that Radoo had landed not far away, the male’s grumbles and growls carrying on the wind, but Ivoth only had eyes for Elle.
Ivoth let the transition wash over him in a gliding wave of calm, his bones and muscles reshaping to the form he embraced day to day. His claws retreated, teeth grew smaller and lost their sharpness, while his scales slid from sight once more. The green returned to tan, the wings smaller, nails now blunted. He was back on two legs, not four, and was ready to embrace Elle. He would fix whatever was wrong—immediately and without question.
The change continued, his view of the world altering until he only towered above her by less than a foot, not several hundred. He did not attempt to move forward again, the shield’s power now crackling over his bare skin to announce its presence. He remained motionless, just out of reach of the glittering barrier and his gaze wholly focused on Elle. On…
“Shaa kava.” He ignored her sharp wince and the emotional ache that came with his words. “You are injured. You require healing. Where is…”
“No.” She shook her head and held up her hand, as if her extended arm could silence him. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to…”
“Where are Brukr and Triem? Argan?”
Movement to his left and then right drew his attention—the males stepping from the dark shadows of the trees. She was being watched at a distance. Good. He would not have to kill them.
“Why are you here, shaa—” Elle jerked as if she’d been struck, and he bit off the endearment. Hurt clenched his heart, squeezing the muscle so hard he thought he’d lose consciousness. Was that truly her pain? How did she stand it? “Why are you here, Elle?”
She snorted and shook her head. “Can’t you just leave me alone? Please? It’s…” She sighed and ran a hand over her face. When she looked at him once more, he noted the exhaustion and paleness of her features, the tiredness that seemed to have infected every part of her. “First you and then Charlie and you again? I can’t do this anymore, Ivoth. I can’t do any of it. I’m tired, don’t you get that? I’m tired, and I just want to sleep, but you… and him…” She squeezed her eyes shut tight and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just can’t.”
“Can’t what, shaa—” He did not have the right to call her shaa kava. He would learn to forget the words. “Can’t what?”
“Live.”
15
It was true. She couldn’t live with the way things were—the way things had been since she’d accepted the job with Delaney. She’d taken Charlie and walked away from Daven Bio without a look back, ready to make everything better in the world with a limitless budget and a supportive president of the company.
Months later, what did she have left? No family. No Charlie. No Ivoth. Not that she’d had him, but now even their friendship was gone. Gone, and she needed to forget about it—and him—for self-preservation.
“You will not die!” Ivoth’s yell shook the delicate technology that controlled the protective shield around the clearing. Originally, it’d protected the Preor delegation during negotiations with the Ujal and humans. Now it was one of the few nearby safe places outside Preor Tower. She could relax in the sunshine, the breeze caressing her cheeks, and not worry about bullets striking her—or large Preors intruding.
Ivoth could yell and roar, but he couldn’t get to her. His scent couldn’t reach her with their distance, and he couldn’t lay his hands on her skin. If he touched her…
It’d be over if he touched her.
Elle shook her head and sighed, staring at the furious warrior—the nude furious warrior—that stood nearby. She hated that her body betrayed her. She took in his form from head to toe, shoulders to wing tips, and felt a tendril of desire wind its way down her spine. Her pussy grew heavy and ached, her clit practically begging for his touch.
She would have given herself to him that morning if Triem hadn’t interrupted. And wouldn’t that have been a huge mistake?
“I didn’t say I was going to die.” She kept her tone even—emotionless. She wouldn’t reveal her pain. “I said I couldn’t live. Like this. Here. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You don’t have a choice. You must remain.”
She shook her head, not caring if her decision was stupid. “I won’t.”
Shaking her head was a mistake, the movement tugging at the wound on her shoulder. She unconsciously reached up and pressed the gauze tighter against the gash, making sure it remained in place. She’d have to be careful for a while—wait for the injury to heal a little better before she dove back into work.
Ivoth narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to the side, staring at her as if she was a puzzle he was determined to solve. “You are injured. Why has it not been healed by Chashan? They should have seen to your healing.”
Elle just snorted. Now he noticed her injury. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. It just… doesn’t.”
“I do not like your tone.” He frowned.
“I don’t like you being an ass.” She gasped and pressed her fingertips to her mouth, surprise making her silent for a moment.
“I am not a donkey.” His frown deepened. “Has your injury affected your mind?”
She just chuckled, the laughter edged with a hint of hysteria, and she didn’t have the strength to fight it. She closed her eyes and sighed, breathing deep and then letting it out slowly in an attempt to remain calm.
Of course, it didn’t work. The young woman who’d had a lifetime of pain had finally snapped. The careful façade she’d built around herself had one too many cracks, and now Ivoth would have to be faced with Elle in all her buttoned-up glory. Well, previously buttoned-up.
“You want to know what I’m done with, Ivoth? I’m done with my family trying to kill me. Because, let’s be real, we both know it was probably my father who hired someone to shoot at me—us—on that balcony.” And wasn’t that a truth she didn’t want to accept? But there was no choice now. “Because I left a thankless position at Daven Bio to work at Cole Pharma. I wanted to make a difference, and he tried—he’s trying—to kill me.”
She took a step forward, the pain and rage that’d consumed her now bubbling to the surface. She embraced the fury and frustration, letting the anger fuel her every move.
“Know what else? I’m tired of being poked and prodded. I’m tired of healers and doctors looking at me like I’m broken. I may not be perfect, but I’m fine. I’m healthy. I don’t need anyone t
o try and fix me.” She sneered the word, her fury at Chashan and Charlie resurging. “I’m fine the way I am. I’m happy.”
When she didn’t feel the need to cry.
Yes, both of those things bothered her, but what’d truly made things overwhelming was one other fact. One truth that’d made the other two too much to bear.
“Who states you are not perfect?” he snarled, baring his fangs while scales rushed forward to cover his forearms. “I shall…”
“You’ll what? Beat them? Kill them? Why?” she sneered. “Because I’m your friend?”
“Elle, you are more—”
She’d made a mistake and left him an opening, and she didn’t want to listen to whatever he had to say. “It doesn’t matter.” She sighed. “It really doesn’t.”
“You are—”
“I loved you, you know. Not the way I loved Charlie. I loved you. I was in love with you. I could have gone back to my father after his first threat. Or his second.” Or hundredth. “But I stayed, because even though we aren’t mates, I loved you.”
Ivoth froze, his wings the only part of him that moved. “Love?”
“No.” She gave him a sad smile. “Loved. In the past. This morning made sure you broke it—me. I was pitiful but happy to love you without saying a word, and then you…” Her lips tingled, the memory of his mouth on hers making the heat of arousal burn hotter. “You kissed me. You made me hope and wonder, and then you called me shaa kava…”
Heart partner.
“Just before you walked out the door to find your mate.” The pain in her heart settled into a solid block of ice, her body freezing from inside out. “So, yes, I loved you, but I can’t. Not anymore. A mate and a family is more important to you than your heart.” She sniffled and wiped at her cheek, a tickle making her rub the side of her face—her damp face. She was crying. Over a male.
Stupid, stupid Elle.
“I vowed to my sire…”
Elle released a rueful chuckle. “Like I don’t know that? Like I don’t know that you’re forever out of reach. If you hadn’t kissed me, said those words to me, I would have been fine.” Fine. “But you did, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself.”
Her throat ached, squeezing with more and more emotion. It drove her to scream, to yell, to beat on Ivoth until his physical pain matched her emotional agony.
But she didn’t. She swallowed back that knot and fought the tears crowding her eyes.
“Elle, know that if it were not for my vow, I would—” He moved toward her, body colliding with the shield once more, and he growled, glaring at empty space. “I would give—”
“Ivoth…” She softened her voice and focused on him, taking her time and committing him to memory. The way his long hair caught the breeze and the rippling textures of his wing skin. The breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his arms. She memorized every scar and bruise, needing them to get her through life until she found someone else to love.
Someone who could love her back. Someone who wouldn’t let a promise to a dying man stand in the way of a bright future. Was that fair of her? No.
Life wasn’t fair. Love wasn’t fair. Nothing in any of the galaxies was fair.
“It’s done.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m done.”
“Elle—”
“I’ll ask for a different quintet. Or I’ll promise to stay inside Preor Tower for the rest of my life. I’ll do anything if it means I won’t have to be near you every day.”
He staggered back, jerking as if she’d slapped him instead of whispered a handful of words. “You truly wish…”
No.
“Yes.” She fisted her hands, fighting the trembles that threatened to overcome her. “Yes, I do.”
“I…” He stepped back and then back again, increasing the distance that separated them. “I do not…” Ivoth met her gaze, and a hole in her heart opened and threatened to consume her. “I do not believe I can…”
She wasn’t sure what he couldn’t do, but it didn’t matter. “You have to. You don’t have a choice.” Elle wouldn’t give him one, and she’d make sure no one else did either. “Ivoth, you need—”
Pop.
The shield rippled, a wave of rings expanding from a spot to her right. She stared at the ever-widening circles, the multiple colors shimmering in the sun’s light.
Pop. Pop. It happened again and again, the waves overlapping, the rainbow of colors floating in the air.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Three times more, but this time it was different. This time the last made the shield flicker. Nothing more than a quick blink, but it lowered and then snapped back into place.
All the while, Elle couldn’t quite figure out what she was seeing. Things were striking the dome and causing it to…
Not things. Bullets. The killer was trying again, and the urge to laugh nearly overwhelmed her. She was behind a shield that—
Ivoth roared, a sound so loud and deep that the ground around her shook. Like an earthquake, the earth trembled while…
While the dome flickered once again.
Then more bullets.
More dragons joining Ivoth’s bellows.
The shield dancing back and forth between off and on.
Bullets. It was one word that repeated over and over. Bullets.
Hard metal formed into small projectiles that flew—toward her. Her father wasn’t done, and wasn’t that just amazing. She had nothing… and still the man wanted to take what crumbs were left. She had half a mind to finish the job for him.
But she wouldn’t. Her future wouldn’t include Ivoth, but she still had hopes. Hopes that couldn’t be answered if she was dead—which meant when the next bullet struck the ground in front of her feet, Elle spun. She spun and sprinted, running across the open expanse as fast as she could. Her feet pounded on the grass, legs carrying her farther and farther from the center of the clearing.
She glanced back just long enough to spy Ivoth and the others, some shifting, the others remaining on two legs, all focused on the tree line and finding the shooter.
No one looked at her.
Well, one person obviously did. The one holding a gun… aimed at her.
Yet another pop split the air, and pain blossomed in her chest, wrapping around her ribs and squeezing tight. The agony increased with every beat of her heart, the torment making her drop to her knees. She fell forward even further, barely holding out her arms in enough time to catch her weight. Her next move was to slump to the side, strength abandoning her when she needed it most.
Elle rolled to her back, attention on the sky with its shades of blue and wispy clouds. She could see why the Preors loved the skies so much. They were a peaceful serenity no one could find on the ground no matter how hard they tried. It both calmed and soothed her as life gradually left her body. Her father had won. The only daughter of William Davenport no longer worked for Cole Pharma because she was no longer alive.
Elle was dead.
And alone.
With only roars for company.
16
The others took turns sitting across from him, Elle pale and stretched out on the ryaapir unit between them. Ivoth did not take his eyes from her, gaze focused on the rise and fall of her chest. He gently cradled her wrist in his large hand, fingers carefully pressed to the inside. Her blue veins were visible through the thinness of her pale skin, and it was there he increased his pressure. Grace joi Kozav—human healer and mate to Primary Warrior Kozav—instructed him on the method to feel her pulse.
If Elle’s heart beat and she breathed, she was alive.
They told him it was the best he could hope for considering.
Considering a bullet entered her chest and pierced her lung. Considering it rested near her heart. Considering she had died twice while two healing masters and a primary healer fought to save her.
“Ivoth,” the whisper came with a gentle wave of caring and calm, a heart master’s gift. One he did not deserve if he could not keep on
e female safe. “You must rest.”
Khaza slid onto the seat on Elle’s other side and caressed him with her gaze. Not a seduction, but the gift of comfort. He did not deserve her comfort either.
“When she wakes.” He had said the words often enough. He wondered why they continued to try.
“Exhausting yourself does her no good.”
He had no response to her words and chose silence. He did not want to reveal the fear in his heart.
Khaza continued her plea even though he issued no response. “A room has been prepared for you across the hall. You would not be far and summoned the moment any changes occur.”
Ivoth grunted and shook his head. He would not leave another female to flourish—or perish—alone. “I will remain.”
The female released a soft sigh. “As you wish.”
She left at some point, though Ivoth was not sure when. He was too preoccupied with counting Elle’s breaths and the pace of her heart.
Another joined him. Another plea for rest. Another rejection. He would remain until she woke and demanded he leave. He would rejoice on that day, the moment she regained consciousness and argued with him once again.
He did not realize he would miss her arguments or her laughter, but he ached to hear her yell at him. He ached for her to carry that clean, fresh scent once again—not the sickly flavors of medical and pain.
So much pain. It was not as great as it had been, but it lingered. A pulsating ache that refused to leave him be.
He sensed her every hurt. Each physical throb was like a blow, while every emotional tremor was like a tsunami of hatred. Hatred directed at himself, his actions, his very existence. Ivoth did not deserve to share Elle’s air, and yet… he would not leave her.
Ivoth was not sure how much time passed; visitors did not stay for the same number of Earth minutes. Some remained for a handful of moments while others kept silent vigil for full turnings.