by Celia Kyle
Another thing in her life that wasn’t right.
A brush of scales, folds of wing skin sliding against each other, had Elle turning her attention from the puzzle of her life and to…
“Ivoth.” She gave the approaching warrior a soft smile while her body reacted as it always did—heating with desire, a bubbling need that gradually slid to encompass her entire body. Exhausted—ill—and still she wanted him.
“Shaa—” He cut off his quiet murmur, his steps faltering, and she winced with the beginning of the endearment. She didn’t want to hear shaa kava ever again. “Elle,” he corrected himself and continued. “Are you well?”
Ivoth lowered himself onto a nearby seat, and she slowly drew in a deep lungful of air. She couldn’t get enough of his scent, his presence, and the sound of his voice. And she hated herself for it. There was nothing between them—could never be anything between them. She needed to accept that truth.
“You should be resting,” he quietly admonished her.
That was something else that’d changed. Not a single Preor ordered her around or demanded her compliance. Sure, the healers had always been a bit more tender during their interactions, but as a whole, the race wasn’t the most considerate, nor did they ask for things. They demanded.
“I’m fine.” She kept her voice equally low and pulled on what energy reserves she had. She tugged the formation of a fake smile from memory and curled her lips.
Davenports didn’t let something as small as death get them down.
Ivoth clicked his tongue. “Syh does not like liars.”
She huffed out a small chuckle. “Syh…” Images flashed through her mind, memories of warm winds and freezing tendrils surged. She closed her eyes and pushed them away, refusing to acknowledge their existence. Bile churned in her stomach and she swallowed hard, fighting to retain what little remained of her lunch.
Callused, blunted fingers stroked the back of her hand before lifting it from her lap. “I am here.”
He was there—here—something. Three words he’d repeated so often she wasn’t sure if he could say much else.
Healing Master Whelon told her the reactions were nothing more than imaginings created from her body’s panic due to her loss of life. Panic attacks. He told her she was having panic attacks. She’d show him a panic attack. The memories, the experiences, were real. Real while they weren’t real. They existed in some weird in-between she couldn’t explain.
“Sor—“ Elle rasped and then coughed to clear her throat. “Sorry.” Another swallow to banish that feeling fully. “Sorry. Syh can take a flying leap.”
Ivoth merely shook his head and released a long-suffering sigh. “I have explained that Syh is the skies and that the skies always fly, so a flying leap is impossible. Did you lose your mind when you lost your life?”
There was that hint of a twinkle in his eyes, a nearly imperceptible smile teasing the corners of his lips, and a small shake of his shoulders that revealed the first hint of the Ivoth she fell in love with. Loved. Past tense.
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “My mind is exactly where I left it.”
“Hmmm… Perhaps.” He slid his gaze from hers, turning his attention to the view, to the rainbow of colors that painted the sky over the Gulf of Mexico. To the dragons in the distance, practicing and training just above the deadly waters. And the Ujal younglings frolicking in the shallows.
It was a scene so similar to one they’d shared not that long ago, but this time, things were different. She was different.
There were other changes, too, though. A reinforced shield protected the lower levels of Preor Tower as well as a wide expanse of the beach. An invisible bubble that secured its occupants from attack.
There were other additions. Delaney and young Lilet lazed on the sand beneath a large umbrella under Zadri’s watchful eyes. Fifty feet from that small family were Taulan and Lana, both parents attempting to keep the twins from lighting everything on fire—including each other. Their son, Shanas, giggled and fluttered his tiny wings, flapping them so hard he slowly lifted from the ground, which made the dragonlet laugh even harder while his father cursed and stretched to capture Shanas before he’d flown too far away.
Their daughter, obviously not wanting to be outdone, released a large gout of flame, Lorra trying to burn her little brother again. Taulan said Lorra had to be deficient in some way. Why hadn’t the baby learned that her fire couldn’t hurt Shanas? Lana informed Taulan—and everyone else—that Lorra wasn’t deficient, she was determined and stubborn… like her sire.
Their antics brought a smile to her face, a hint of happiness inching into her heart and taking up residence.
“We spoke of young once before.”
She suppressed the heartache that came with the memory. “Yes.” Elle met his stare. “And we talked about the fact that I can’t have them, too.” She pulled her gaze away once again, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. “The facts don’t need to be rehashed, so why are you?”
And why at that moment? Sure, she’d said she was fine, but everyone—even Ivoth with his Preor sensibilities—knew it was a lie.
“What if you could? Would you present young?”
She shrugged, hiding the agony from playing his ‘what if’ game. A game she’d ceased playing a long time ago. “Thinking about it is a waste of time and a pointless line of questioning.”
Davenports didn’t waste time. Time was money.
A rolling wave of sadness encompassed her heart, twining itself around the muscle and squeezing tight. The emotion ran deep, delving further and further into her. Or him? What…
“What about a mate? Would you take a Preor mate if he presented himself?” The words came out with a coarse rasp and she snapped her gaze to him, staring at the side of his face while he remained focused on the sights before them.
“Without the Knowing?” She shook her head, hating him a little bit for even asking the question. “No. I would never—could never—do that to a warrior.”
“Even if it was what he wished?” She became his entire focus. “Even if he could not live or breathe without you? Even if he is willing to lose all for a chance to claim you?”
He. Ivoth spoke of he and not him. Was it his way of saving his heart? Or was there a warrior who wanted her, barren womb, lack of Knowing, and all?
“Why?”
Ivoth jerked back. “Why?” He tilted his head to the side. “I do not understand the question.”
“Why does he want me? If we don’t share the Knowing, why can’t he live without me? Why is he willing to give up his dreams for me?” Elle turned in her seat, knees brushing his, and she fought back a shudder of desire. “All of it. Why?”
“Because you are his ma—”
“No,” she snapped. “Don’t finish that sentence.” She pointed at him. “If I was a mate, I’d have the Knowing. I don’t.”
“A mating is more than the Knowing.”
She snorted. She couldn’t help it. “Not for you guys. You all want to find your true mate and be gifted with the genetic history and blah, blah, blah…” She sighed and dropped her head forward, hating herself a little. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I shouldn’t joke about your people’s search—”
“They are your people as well,” Ivoth gently interrupted her.
“Nooo…” She slowly shook her head from side to side. “I’m a friend of Preor. I’m not a Preor or human-Preor mate.”
“When you were injured…” He frowned. “Whelon and Chashan consulted after you were stabilized and…” The frown remained, and he added a squirm. “I did not do it without thought.” He mimicked Elle, pointing his finger in her direction. “You stated there was love in your heart. You cannot deny those words.”
“Was. Was. Past tense.” The lie was sour on her tongue, but she wouldn’t retract the words.
“That is an untruth.” He narrowed his eyes. “I can feel you, Elle. In my heart. In my mind. I have for months, and I know y
ou lie. Your love for me remains.”
“No. You killed it.” He didn’t come close to killing it. Bruised and battered maybe, but still there.
“Did I?” His expression changed into one she couldn’t read. “And that is why, as life returned to you, you called out for me? You did not cry for another. You sought me. Yet you no longer have love for me?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“No.” Deny, deny, deny. That was another Davenport teaching. Questioned by a reporter about something? Deny it. Half the time they were fishing, and if they weren’t, the police would show up, not reporters.
Unable to sit still a moment longer, she pushed from her seat and tugged her robe tighter around her body. The soft material billowed as she made her way across the room, away from Ivoth and all he represented—a past she needed to let go of.
She wove her way past the furniture littering the room. They’d put her in a new—larger—condo in Preor Tower, one that had more bedrooms and was near the first floor. No one said it, but that meant the condo was also near medical. A fact she hadn’t missed.
As for the crowded space… Ivoth’s team stayed with her around the clock. And that meant in her condo. Everyone had been shaken by the attack, and she had to admit that she liked having the warriors close.
She strode into the kitchen and right to the cooling unit. She didn’t know what she was doing, but it had to be better than listening to Ivoth.
She tugged on the door, panel swinging wide to release a gust of cool air, a breeze that reminded her of that time. The time when the dark had been so thick that—
Nope, she wasn’t going there again.
“By the skies, Elle!” It was a combination of a snarl, a shout, and a growl, and she ignored it—him. “You were dead two turnings ago. You must rest.”
Part of what he said was true. She had been dead.
She leaned down and tugged out food—fresh vegetables and syncheese, as well as syneggs. She couldn’t make much, but an omelet sounded good.
“I can rest when I’m dead,” she called out. “Wait! I already did that!”
Hurt. Anger. Fear. Panic. All were emotions that had her yelling words she shouldn’t. That didn’t mean she’d apologize though.
She tugged on cabinets, opening one and glancing inside before slamming it closed once more. She went around the kitchen, hunting for a nice sized pan and… “Gotcha.”
She grabbed the handle and tugged it out before turning her focus to a cutting board and knives. That hunt went even quicker, and soon she had what she needed.
Too bad she didn’t know what she was doing. She’d had bots growing up, but how hard could it be? She’d watched the bots plenty of times. She could do this. The alternative was giving Ivoth her attention and risking her heart. Not something she was willing to do.
“What are you doing? Did you not hear me? You were—”
Elle clenched the handle of a knife in one hand and pan in another. She slammed them both down on the counter, a reverberating boom cutting through Ivoth’s voice in an instant. “I know.” She uncurled her fingers and spun to face him. “I. Know.”
She took a step forward, fury fueling every movement. “You don’t think I know I died? That I drifted in the dark? That I was lost and alone and no one…” She shook her head. No, that’d been a dream. It hadn’t been real. “You don’t think I know that my body and genetics were so twisted that I had to die to survive?” She moved closer to him, unable to resist his allure even as she yelled at him. “You don’t think I know that it was all my father? The tests, the treatments. Even if I don’t have proof, I have no doubt it was him, and it ended with a bullet in my chest and on a ryaapir unit that couldn’t do a thing for me.”
Someone was shouting. Was it her? It could be her, but she couldn’t stop the roll of words escaping her mouth. “You may have had to watch it all happen, but it was me.” She jabbed her chest. “So, yes, I know.”
“If you know so much, then how can you not know I love you?” Ivoth roared the words so loud she thought her eardrums would shatter. At least technology could fix her now. “I am your mate and you are mine. I claimed you and I shall keep you. Do not doubt that if you attempt to leave, I will give chase and I will find you.”
“Wait, you—”
“Whelon said I should remain silent and give you quiet while you recover, but you are not remaining silent. You are shouting, and I shall shout back because you. Are. Mine. No matter what happens once the Pol Mutation has been repaired, you are mine. I will live a life without the Knowing if it is a life with you, Elle. I may wish to throw you from the aerie at this moment, but I will not let you go.”
Elle stumbled back a step, shock silencing her while she rolled Ivoth’s words through her mind. They tumbled, one over another. Each time they floated past, they came more into focus, the meaning soon becoming apparent. But that didn’t mean she understood. “You…” She leaned against the counter, the cabinets keeping her upright when her knees failed her. “I have…” But then all her muscles forsook her and she slid to the ground. She tilted her head back and stared up at the Preor warrior towering above her. “I have Pol Mutation?”
Ivoth closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, chin to chest, with a heavy sigh. “I was not supposed to tell you of the remaining illness. Whelon and Chashan will have my wings.”
“Why?”
He opened one eye. “Why?”
“Why weren’t you supposed to tell me? I’m the ill one. I should be told… Isn’t Pol Mutation curable by the Preor? Why do I still have it then? Delaney told me about Grace’s mother who had… It can be passed from parents to children. Does that mean one of my…”
Ivoth lowered to the ground nearby, the large warrior kneeling next to her. “I will give you answers—”
“The truth.” He gave her an offended glare, but didn’t say anything to her about her veiled accusation.
“Truthful answers, but after you rise.” He reached for her, his warm palm against her cheek while he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “Please, shaa kouva. Rise and allow me to care for you. If you wish for food, I will hunt for you. If you wish for sleep, I will protect your slumber. If you wish for love, I give it freely. Simply tell me what you want.”
So many, many things, and she didn’t think he could give her one. His words were sweet, but… but she couldn’t trust them. Not now. Not yet. Not… ever? “I want the truth. Keep the endearments and the promises. Just give me the truth.”
20
She was not yet healed, not yet his, and Ivoth disliked having unmated males near Elle. Words bound her by human law, but taking her body would be the only way to pronounce his place to other males.
His place at her side, in her bed.
And if Whelon’s eyes drifted to the valley between Elle’s breasts once more, Ivoth would rip the wings from the Healing Master’s back. Slowly. Painfully. Then he would throw them into the sea so they could not be repaired. And then he would fly Elle to the highest aerie so the male could not reach them.
Yes, the plan was a sound one.
Ivoth stepped forward, prepared to put his plan into action, but an elbow to his side broke his concentration. He grunted and glared at his attacker—Zadri.
“Whelon does not wish to claim your female.”
“Mate,” he immediately corrected. No matter the outcome of the day’s tests, she would always be his mate.
Zadri simply rolled his eyes, and Ivoth decided he would punch out the male’s lights. He still did not understand the saying, but he did grasp the sentiment. Fighting Zadri would at least rid him of some of the concerned—not nervous—tension plaguing him. He could not take Elle to his bed to calm him. Fighting would do.
Ivoth turned to face the Defense Master, prepared to throw him through the nearest window.
“Mate, then.” Zadri sighed. “And do not think to attack, Ivoth joi Elle. I will best you and then order Whelon to allow your suffering.” The male quirked a brow. “
How will you claim your mate if you cannot move for the pain?”
“Carefully,” he snapped back and then decided he would hunt Triem when Elle next nap-d. Beating—training—Triem would lessen his concerned tension.
“If you will remove…”
Ivoth’s anger at Zadri snapped to Whelon. “She will remove nothing.” He did not care if he shouted at the male responsible for Elle’s health. Whelon was a male first, healer second. “You can inspect her while she is dressed.”
He did not wait to see if his demand would be acknowledged and accepted. He stomped across the room and to Elle’s side, not stopping until he held her in his arms. She could not disrobe if she remained captive. “The removal of clothing is unnecessary.”
Whelon sighed.
Elle stared at him. “Wha—”
“Males are very possessive of their mates. I had hoped since the Knowing had yet to manifest that he would be—”
“I am not. I am her mate. She will not undress.” The mere thought that another would see her lush body… His dragon stirred, enraged by the idea of an unmated male encroaching on his territory. Dark smoke escaped him, the beast pushing for freedom to challenge the male who dared—
“Hey.” Elle bumped her shoulder against his chest. “Quit it.”
He turned his glare on his mate. “He asked you to remove your coverings.”
“Because he’s a doctor. He can’t check my chest wound through clothes.”
Ivoth shook his head. “The ryaapir unit healed you fully. There is no reason to view—”
“You don’t think he’s a little worried about it when you think about all the other stuff I went through?”
He did not like that her point was valid.
“Then bring in a female healer. I do not wish him to see…” Parts of her he had yet to see, to enjoy.
“Ivoth.” It was not merely that she said his name, but the way she called out to him. Soft. Sensual. Chiding. Caring.
His cock became hard in an instant, his thickness straining against his katoth pants. The unforgiving material constrained his growing length, and he winced with the ever-increasing tightness. Having her so close, her scent taunting him and her voice tormenting him, was painful, but he did not wish to release her.