Ivoth (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 7)

by Celia Kyle

  “—were against a Preor female and her dam.”

  “He wasn’t your mate when father allegedly killed your mother. That crime was not against a Preor female,” Ben countered, and Elle sighed.

  “He admitted to it after I’d been claimed,” she gently reminded her brother. “Regardless, any crime against me—ever—is a crime against Preor.” She gave her brother a pleading look, aching for him to understand and be at her side in support, not protest. “Please understand, Ben.”

  “Bennett.” He bit off the syllables.

  Ivoth’s next squeeze came with a sweet wave of comfort and concern. Their connection was still limited to emotions, might always be limited to emotions, but she hoped that once her Pol Mutation was repaired…

  She hoped they’d have a mating like any other.

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head, murmuring his soft endearment. “Shaa kouva.”

  She turned her head and pressed her face to his chest, closing her eyes as she drew his spicy scent into her lungs. “I’m fine.”

  He snorted, the sound saying more than words and reminding her of something he often repeated to her. Syh does not like liars.

  Elle straightened and met Ben’s stare, adopting her persona as Elle Kathleen Davenport, daughter of William Davenport, and the Ice Queen of Daven Bio. “Bennett,” she repeated. “Nothing you say, no amount of petitions or pleading to father’s political connections, will change what’s in motion. The Preor are too important to the Ujal, and the Ujal are too important to Earth. It’s done.”

  “Father has the ear of the President—”

  “And the Preor have the ear of the Queen and Prince of the Ujal. You recall the Ujal, right? They’re the ones who cleaned up the Earth after humans poisoned the environment. They’re the ones who ensured that no others suffered from Pol Mutation. Father will receive a trial with a Preor aesi—attorney.”

  “A fair trial?” Ben tossed back, and that was followed by a trio of growls from the warriors.

  “Yes, a fair trial held here on Earth.”

  “But you’re taking him to the Preor ship.” He jerked his head toward the short flight.

  “He committed crimes against the Preor. He will be held by the Preor.” Ivoth spoke directly to her brother, and she had to give Ben credit. He didn’t so much as blink or squirm in discomfort from receiving the full brunt of her mate’s anger.

  Ben opened his mouth, and she read him as if he was a new datapad. She recognized the changes in his posture and the shift of his eyes. She’d been with Ben every day of his life and easily identified his intent—an insult that had a chance of ending with more than growls and snarls.

  Elle changed the topic in an instant. “When will you take over as President of Daven Bio, Bennett?”

  He clicked his teeth together. “President?” He shook his head. “The attorneys are reviewing federal and worldwide laws, but right now, you’re the head of Daven Bio.”

  Elle was shaking her head even before he was done. “No, I don’t want it. I never did.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Besides, William doesn’t want me to have it, does he? Women don’t belong at the head of the conference table.”

  Ben clenched his jaw and she spotted a tiny shift in his eyes, one that said a kernel of doubt grew in his mind. “You’re more qualified to lead Daven Bio than me, than him.”

  She shrugged. “But I don’t want it. I can do more with the Preor and the support of Cole Pharma.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “You’re still going to work for Cole?”

  She shook her head. “With Cole Pharma. The Preor can cure Pol Mutation, and Cole Pharma has the facilities to engineer the cure for each sufferer.”

  “It’s replicable?” He quirked a brow.

  “The doses are genetically altered to work only with the patient. It requires specific processing, but it’s something that can be easily done by companies like Cole Pharma and other bio firms.”

  “Like Daven Bio.” He connected the dots that quickly, his mind always whip fast and sharp.

  “If Daven Bio was willing to donate its services in exchange for support from the Preor and assistance in public relations recovery once the story about William breaks.”

  “We have a PR firm on retainer.”

  “True,” she acknowledged. “And they’re good, but they’re not Liquid Knot. Your firm can disseminate information. Liquid can control it. Literally.”

  “Daven Bio has full control and discretion over production.”

  “Cole-Daven has control and discretion over production as well as full autonomy. You tell Cole-Daven what plants can be utilized and when. Cole-Daven will take things from there,” she countered. Ben would push, but just like she knew him, he knew her.

  “Cole-Daven?”

  “Funded and supported by both Cole Pharma and Daven Bio. Run by a Davenport—me.” She lifted her chin and waited for him to object, but he… didn’t.

  Instead, he remained silent, gaze locked on hers for one moment and then another until he finally spoke. “Accepted.”

  The short flight powered up, engines rumbling to life before settling into a gentle purr like a biocat—a genetically engineered and produced feline. Not a clone, but not fully original either.

  The shuttle slowly lifted from the platform and hovered in midair silently for a moment before shooting across the skies. It quickly gained altitude, headed directly for Penelope in Earth’s orbit. They all kept their focus on the transport until it completely vanished from sight, too far away to track any longer.

  Ben’s attention returned to her. “I’ll expect a full prospectus and implementation plan within a week.”

  Elle’s sareslia—a portable med monitor Ivoth demanded she wear until her Pol Mutation was repaired—released a soft tone followed by a familiar voice.

  “Full prospectus and implementation plan delivered as requested, Bennett Davenport, brother of Elle joi Ivoth Davenport.” Apparently Liquid had programmed Penelope with initiative.

  Ben flicked his attention from her face to the device draped around her neck and back again. “Your assistant?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Efficient.”

  Which was the closest thing to a compliment the Ben of today ever gave out.

  “Thank you, Bennett,” Penelope answered, and Elle just kept her mouth shut. Let him think he dealt with a person instead of an advanced tech system.

  “I’ll review the documents. If everything is in order, I’ll sign and submit a schedule of plant availability and current capabilities.”

  And that was it. Those were the last words he gave her before he turned on his heel and strode for the edge of the landing platform. He jogged down the stairs, his body guards falling into step around him and matching his pace. She tracked him with her gaze, her younger brother heading directly for his transports—plural because his bodyguards also formed a hovocar barrier around Ben’s own.

  Another few minutes and he was gone, hovocar entourage gliding from the parking lot and into traffic. So quick, so simple. Such a short conversation that would forever change the population landscape of Earth.

  Now she was alone. Or as alone as she could expect when she considered she had a Preor mate.

  Argan and Triem remained nearby, gazes scanning the area for any intruders. Soon Brukr and Radoo joined them, the flap of their wings announcing their approach, the wind they created sending her hair flying.

  Their quintet was whole once more, some of the heightened tension that’d dogged them now gone.

  “Do we believe he speaks the truth?” Radoo crossed his arms over his chest, skepticism in his voice.

  The other warriors grunted—a male “I don’t know” if she ever heard one.

  “Yes, he does,” she spoke up. Not just because he was her brother, but because she could read him. “He may disagree with what’s happening to William, but he taught us both to protect the company. No matter what happens, Daven Bio has to live on. It’s the Davenport legacy.�
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  “Dragonlets are a male’s legacy.” Triem’s words were innocent enough, spoken without malice, but they cut her deeply just the same.

  What if her Pol Mutation was repaired and the Knowing didn’t manifest? He said he wanted to remain her mate, but if she couldn’t give him children…

  “All is well, shaa kouva,” Ivoth murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

  Triem paled, and he stared at her with wide, panicked eyes. “I did not mean—”

  “It’s fine.” She waved him away and hoped he couldn’t see the pain in her heart. “We all know what you meant, and you’re right. A company shouldn’t be the greatest thing a male leaves behind—it should be his family.” Elle shrugged. “William simply never thought of it that way.”

  The wind gusted, briny ocean air whipping at them. A salty moistness came with that fierce breeze, and more than one of the warriors grimaced. The sea was deadly to a Preor. One caress from a turbulent wave and their wings became useless. From there, their weight would carry them down to the very depths of the waters.

  But that wasn’t what drove their discomfort now. It was the stinging that came from the salted air scraping over their wings and scales—the dryness that accompanied the breeze.

  And it gave her something to focus on other than William, her brother, and the procedure to come.

  The one where her entire world would change. Literally.

  “Let’s get out of this wind, huh?” She dug out her perkiest persona and widest smile. “Maybe grab a bite to eat for lunch? Or do you guys have plans?”

  “Shaa kouva.” Ivoth’s voice had her meeting his stare. “We will return to Preor Tower, but we will not consume food.” Yeah, she knew that, she was just… He lowered his head to hers once more, forehead to forehead, his eyes on hers. “You have nothing to fear. Whelon and Chashan are two of the finest healing masters.”

  “But what about…”

  “And when you wake, we will bind our mating.”

  “I might not be your mate.” She got the words out, hating them, but they needed to be said.

  Ivoth cupped her cheeks. “From the moment I saw you, the very instant I caught your scent, you were mine. You are my mate until I take my final flight and beyond. Accept it, for I will not let you go.”

  It should have sounded creepy—scary—to hear his possessive claiming, but to Elle… it was just sexy.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He sounded skeptical, but she couldn’t blame him. She’d pushed for the delay, for him to rescind his claiming, and now she wasn’t.

  “Let’s go to medical. Whelon and Chashan can do their thing, and then we’ll see what happens.”

  Ivoth snorted. “What will happen is that I will find the closest surface and make you mine.”

  23

  Ivoth handed Elle off to Khaza as soon as they entered medical. The Heart Master would calm his mate before Whelon and Chashan began the procedure. And while Khaza kept Elle occupied, Ivoth would discuss the procedure with the healing masters.

  His team stationed themselves throughout the main area, senses heightened as they watched for any attack. It was true that Elle’s father was no longer on Earth, but Ivoth remained concerned for his mate. He glanced around the space, ensuring his team was appropriately positioned, and then glanced at the door his mate had just walked through. It slid firmly shut behind the two females which meant…

  Ivoth whipped a short blade from his pants in an instant. He quickly changed his grip while he shoved Whelon against the wall, Ivoth’s forearm across his throat and sharp metal pressed to flesh.

  “Ivoth,” the Healing Master drawled, bored gaze meeting his. “Can I help you with something?”

  The male did not attempt to break free of Ivoth’s hold and merely stared at him, gaze intent. It was no fun if the male did not fight, but that did not mean he would not issue his warning.

  “If she dies…” He trembled, whole body shaking at the mere thought of Elle’s death. “If she…” He coughed and cleared his throat. “You will not live a breath past her. Not a heartbeat.” He pushed harder, giving the male more of his weight and cutting off Whelon’s air. “Do you hear my words, Healing Master Whelon sen Autyr?”

  Chashan stepped closer, gaze sliding from Ivoth to Whelon and back again. “Speech requires breath.”

  “I am aware,” he growled out. “Nods do not.” He pricked Whelon’s skin, a tiny nick to show the male he was serious. “Do you hear my words?”

  Whelon glared at him, eyes narrowed and yellow with flames, and finally nodded. A battle—painful and long—would come from the confrontation if Elle lived. When Elle lived. If she did not… Whelon’s death would be swift.

  With a grunt, he pushed away from Whelon and stepped back, giving the male space. Whelon’s glare remained, but he sounded calm and collected when he spoke with Chashan—completely ignoring Ivoth.

  “Is all prepared? The injection? The ryaapir unit is programmed to monitor? Grace and Carla?” Chashan’s answers to Whelon’s rapid fire questions were the same.

  All was as ordered.

  A high-pitched squeak and squeal came a split-second before Charlie burst through the wall. Once more, the quasti performed a spinning search for Ivoth, chirping happily when Charlie spotted him. Charlie raced across the floor, darting around the furniture and other obstacles before finally launching himself at Ivoth.

  Mate f-am! Hot cha!

  Dragonlet cries came from the hallway, and Ivoth sighed, dropping his head forward while Charlie continued his upward climb. “When shall you learn to cease taunting the dragonlets? I shall let them turn you into a meal if you do not stop tormenting them.”

  Not. Charlie sniffed.

  “Not tormenting or I will not allow them to eat you.”

  Yes.

  To both, probably.

  Ivoth turned his attention to the more pressing matter—Elle. “CharlemKle’phi-juewee, will you attend the healing of Elle?” The furred body froze, not a strand of fur moving. Charlie became a statue on Ivoth’s shoulder. “CharlemKle’phi-juewee?” Still Charlie did not move and Ivoth sighed. “You are as ageless and deadly as a Preor, and yet you act like a hatchling with your dam’s shell clinging to your tail. You cannot hide from her forever. You are hurting her heart, and I will not allow it to continue.”

  He growled out the last sentence, a puff of smoke to show the quasti he did not make an empty boast.

  Bad f-am to cha. The stilted words held a note of sadness that tore at Ivoth, and he reached up to stroke Charlie’s head.

  “That does not mean her love is gone, merely bruised. You have not shared quiet moments with her, and I feel the hurt in her heart. If you do not wish to be her f-am, then leave her. I will care for her until we take our final flight. She does not need a fickle quasti for the remainder of her turnings.”

  Anger and indignation smacked him across the face, as did Charlie’s tail when he spun on Ivoth’s shoulder. Tiny claws pulled and tugged on his face, the nails scratching his skin while Charlie ranted.

  My f-am. Bad Mate F-am. CharlemKle’phi-juewee is f-am be-for Mate F-am. Mi-ne.

  “What’s… Ivoth?” Elle stood framed in the doorway, a pale, flowing robe wrapped around her body that outlined her curves in a way that made Ivoth wish to blind the males in the room. “Charlie?”

  Ivoth winced as did Charlie, and they both gave her their full attention.

  “Shaa kouva, are you prepared?”

  “Yes, but Charlie…” Her heartache speared him, cutting deep and nearly sending him to his knees. “I don’t know.”

  Ivoth glared at the quasti, mentally urging him to speak, but he did not—which left Ivoth to make choices. He reached up and tugged the quasti from his shoulder and placed the beast on a nearby seat.

  “Charlie is present to say goodbye. He is a weak, poor excuse for a quasti and brings shame to his house. He leaves to seek his own future. He does not wish to stain our dragonlets with his prese
nce.”

  Ivoth expected the screech. And the howl. As well as the growl. He also expected the quasti to come after him. Instead, Charlie went to Elle.

  Not to attack, but to… complain so loudly that even Ivoth heard his grumbled words.

  Not go. Not. Stoo-pid Mate F-am. He make dumb cha. CharlemKle’phi-juewee teach smart. Teach on-or.

  “Like the honor you’ve shown Elle? Our dragonlets do not need your honor taught to them.”

  Charlie huffed at him, giving Ivoth a glare, before the quasti focused on Elle once more. He pet her face with those small paws, claws pinching and tugging on her skin as he climbed her face. When they were eye-to-eye, he spoke—loudly—once more.

  CharlemKle’phi-juewee bad to cha. Want best. Did worst. Stay from F-am and Mate F-am.

  “Charlie…” She gripped him with shaking hands, trembles overtaking her body, and Ivoth went to her side. He helped her hold the quasti, cupping her hands with one of his. “Charlie, I was mad, but staying away—ignoring me—broke my heart.”

  Ivoth did not like hearing the truth aloud and narrowed his eyes, giving the quasti a glare that promised death by fire if he did not fix the hurts he’d caused.

  Fix. Not go. Fix hart. Teach smart cha from stoo-pid Mate F-am. Charlie spun in a circle in her cupped palms, wiggling and twisting, making a nest for himself in her grip. Stay.

  “No more hiding from me?” Elle’s voice warbled, and Ivoth decided quasti would be a good evening meal. “William and Ben…”

  Grief overtook him, one stronger than even his own when he’d lost his family so long ago. A tear escaped her eye, falling to land with a plop on Charlie’s head. The quasti jolted to his feet, scrambling left then spinning right before focusing on Ivoth.

  Stoo-pid Mate F-am! Leek-eeng. Cha leek-eeng. Charlie crawled up Elle’s arms, not stopping until he was atop her head. Then he gripped her hair and shimmied down her face until they were nose to nose. Stoo-pid Mate F-am, cha is bro-ken.

  His panic was enough to break the hold grief had on Elle. She snuffled and then barked out a single laugh that turned into a chuckle.