by Celia Kyle
“It was negligent,” Taulan snapped.
The male had been test-ee since yesterday, according to Lana. Lana smiled while she said those words and Rendan found he did not care. Especially when that also had his mate laughing.
He realized he could ignore much for a hint of joy from Carla.
Odd.
“I am kor-ting my mate.” Another shrug merely because it annoyed the war master and also he was not yet sure the full definition of the human word. Otherwise he would explain further.
“Your courting nearly brought down the tower—”
Rendan was not sure how the destruction of a single floor turned into collapsing Preor Tower
“—frightened the humans, destroyed a beach within one of Florida’s protected areas—“
Rendan did feel a measure of regret for that, but the joy on his mate’s face had been worth the error. The happiness and desire in her gaze when she’d seen his naked body. It’d taken all of his training not to pounce on Carla and show her the pleasure he could give as a mate.
But the definition of courting also included warnings to “take things slow.” So, he did not take her to the sands. He now understood Kozav’s references to blue bahls.
“—and now my bearing mate wishes to throw herself off the tower as well because ‘it looks like so much fun.’”
Rendan believed that was the true source of Taulan’s anger. “Explain that bearing females keep their feet firmly on solid ground.”
Whether that ground was on the surface or in a Preor’s aerie.
Taulan snorted and rolled his eyes. The male seemed to have picked up several human expressions as well.
The low click and scrape of metal on metal sliced through their argument and the nearby door swung open. Since Carla’s demands were so pressing, they’d decided to put in human doors similar to those in human history rather than wait to have traditional portals installed. It was odd, but it seemed to be enough to please the females who came to speak with Carla.
A tinkling laugh—Lana’s—filled the air just as the War Mistress appeared. “So you’re saying I’m going to lay an egg? Like a chicken?”
Taulan glared and Rendan decided he would remember the word since it annoyed the war master so much.
“You are not a bird,” Taulan spat the last word.
Lana rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not, but,” she patted her stomach where a future Preor dragonlet rested. “There’s a happy little shell in there.”
Shell? Rendan frowned, and Carla jumped into the conversation with a quick explanation—her speech concise with an edge of nerves. Rendan glanced at Taulan, noting his glare, and then strode to Carla’s side. He would not allow the male to frighten his mate, no matter his position within the fleet.
“It’s not a shell,” Carla interrupted. “It’s a thicker amniotic sack.”
Lana grinned. “Like a shell.”
“Like a stronger lining to protect your uterine wall should you become pregnant with a boy.”
“Boy?” Rendan murmured.
“Male dragonlet,” she whispered in return before addressing the couple once more. “And everything looks fine. Her blood pressure and pulse are normal, the baby’s heartbeat is a little fast, but we’re going to operate under the assumption that it’s due to the differences between humans and Preor. It’s also a little large, but we’re going to simply document the changes. Between Lana’s pregnancy, and others, we’ll be able to draw a few assumptions.”
“But she is well?” Taulan pulled Lana beneath his wing, curling it around the smaller human.
“She’s well.” Carla nodded. “Just bring her back once a week and call if there’s anything wrong. Get the worrying out of the way now and you’ll be the perfect papa when you guys decide to try for number two in a couple of years.”
Rendan froze and slowly turned his gaze to Carla. He surely did not understand his mate correctly. “Number two? Couple of years?”
His mate’s smile didn’t waver, her happiness obvious in her expression. “Sure. In general, women are encouraged to wait eighteen months or so between pregnancies. It gives her body time to recover before being stressed by another baby.”
“Eighteen,” he whispered. “Months?”
“Earth months.” Taulan’s tone was much calmer now that Carla had spoken. The male’s eyebrows lowered and lips turned down. “Humans are capable of becoming pregnant approximately every thirty risings.”
“Thirty,” he rasped. It could not be. He focused on Carla, pure terror suffusing him. Every thirty risings? That meant he would have to acquire protection often if he did not wish her to bear for him.
And he did not. Ever.
Carla’s smile wavered. “Human women have monthly menstrual cycles. I know Preor females only go into heat every ten years, but we are capable of becoming pregnant once a month.”
Once a month. He could not believe her words.
Taulan punched his shoulder. “Is it not wondrous? A mated male can have many dragonlets. He will not have to hope and pray for offspring every ten years.”
Which was a fact that would please many males, just not Rendan. He would never inflict such pain on a dragonlet. Not if he had a choice. With the advances in Preor technology, he had such a choice.
“That would mean a female would birth twelve dragonlets an Earth year?” He would cut off his bahls now to avoid such events.
Carla’s tinkling laugh gave him hope that he was wrong—very wrong. “No, once she’s pregnant, she can’t get more pregnant. She’ll carry one—or more—babies. Then wait eighteen months before she should try again.”
“Yet during that time she could become bearing again? Try means she can not try? How would pregnancy be prevented?”
How could he prevent it for the rest of his risings?
“Chashan developed an injection that renders a male’s syha’i unable to impregnate a female.” Her gaze was intent, eyes scanning his face, and he pulled his attention from her. He did not wish her to see his thoughts in his expression. The injection would make his seed incapable of fostering dragonlets.
“It is good that medical was able to find a way to protect recently-bearing females.” And give him a way to avoid his worst imaginings. He hated himself for his thoughts, but could not stop them from coming forward.
“Rendan?” Her delicate fingers danced over his forearm. “Are you okay?”
He forced a smile to his lips, pushing his troublesome thoughts away. “Of course, shaa soma.” He stroked her cheek, enjoying the feel of her warm skin. “Merely anxious to spend time alone with you.”
He hadn’t been permitted to engage in another Trial of Syh, ordered to rest, and now he wished to hold his mate in his arms—naked, skies permitting. Yet if he was with her without clothes, he would be tempted to fully mate Carla, which could risk pregnancy. Perhaps time alone was not the best idea.
“And I,” a feminine purr drew his mate’s attention, breaking the spell between them, “want to be alone with you.” War Mistress Lana pressed to her tip-toes, using the war master’s uniform to pull him down. She captured his lips and soon the two wrapped around one another in a passionate embrace.
Their moans and seductive kisses made Rendan’s condition even worse, his desire for Carla rising with every whimper Lana released.
If Rendan remained another moment, the display before him teasing his senses while the scent of Carla’s burgeoning arousal filled his nose, he would take her to the exam room. He would strip her, explore her body, and then slide into her wet heat until he filled her with his syha’i.
Rendan focused on Carla, ignoring the other couple. “Are your duties complete, shaa soma?”
Her smile was radiant, wide and sparkling. “Yup, Lana was my last patient and now I’m all yours.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Gonna take me home and—“
No, he wanted her nowhere near a home. Not while he could still give her dragonlets. He sought out the Knowing, hunting for alternate
activities that would not end with Carla beneath him.
The Knowing showed him examples of love making that could occur with Carla above him as well.
The Preor blood memory was not helping.
“I intended to walk along the beach with my mate as the sun sets. Research indicates that a ‘long walk on the beach’ is a favorite past-time of females.”
When her smile widened, he believed he made an excellent choice. He would not tell her it was one made of desperation.
“But not in your natural form.” The war master’s voice was muffled, but Rendan recognized the order.
“But not in my natural form,” he agreed. He would agree to much to leave the cramped medical office. His gaze drifted back to Carla. “A walk and perhaps a pik-nik?”
His mate eased closer, sliding beneath his wing and aligning her lush body with his. “That sounds perfect.”
He wished he could agree.
“Then let us enjoy the sunset, shaa soma. Let us enjoy our evening together.”
10
Carla wanted to be completely alone with Rendan, but she figured she’d take a picnic on the beach.
Though eventually she wanted to be naked and horizontal with the large Preor warrior. Yesterday had been… magical. And now she wanted more. So much more.
Rendan twined their fingers together, keeping her at his side as they strode through the hallways of Preor Tower. They turned this way and that, winding from medical to the beach. The passages were a twisted maze that she wasn’t sure she’d ever learn, but as long as she had Rendan at her side, she didn’t care.
“Offense Master!” A shout came from their left, a male approaching quickly. It wasn’t until the stranger had nearly reached them that she recognized the Preor.
Ballakin. The space between her shoulders itched, the hair on the back of her neck rising, and the air seemed to grow slick and oily with his presence. She stepped closer to Rendan, needing the weight of his arm around her shoulders and the protection of his wing.
She wasn’t even sure why, really. Sure, he’d annoyed her when Rendan had been injured, but that wasn’t enough to cause her pure… disgust. Yet, it was there, covering her with the taint.
The closer Ballakin drew, the more her tension increased. Rendan stiffened at her side as if he read her unease and prepared for battle. Good. Something told her she should never turn her back on the male.
“Primary Defense Warrior Ballakin?” Rendan’s words were clipped. “You have a reason to stop me while I am with my mate?” Rendan turned his attention to her, his gaze softening, and she gave him a small smile. His mere presence, touch, managed to soothe some of the fear that came with Ballakin’s appearance.
Some, but not all. Not when she strained beneath the wave of hate in Ballakin’s glare. The expression was easy to see, her attention split between her mate and the other male.
“I wished to express my joy at your mating.” The words oozed past his lips.
Liar. But she kept the thought to herself.
“We thank you,” Rendan hadn’t shifted his attention from her. “But now, my mate and I have plans elsewhere.”
Rendan squeezed her fingers gently, the action reassuring, and it helped to slow her rapid pulse.
“And the position of defense master, Offense Master Rendan sen—“
The air sizzled, a wave of heat rising from Rendan. “Rendan joi Carla Butler. The position of defense master is not yet filled. To stop me and ask is unacceptable. Leave.”
Rendan’s wing curled around her even tighter, holding her close, and she was glad when all Ballakin did was glare and then stomp off. They remained in position, her mate’s body tense and wary until Ballakin whipped around a distant corner.
The second he was out of sight, she spoke. “I don’t like him. He makes me…” she shuddered. “I just don’t.”
Rendan brushed a soft kiss across her forehead. “You are not alone, shaa soma. You are not alone.”
Which gave her a measure of relief. At least he was troubled by the male, too.
“But he is a matter for another time. I will speak with him tomorrow.” Rendan nuzzled her temple. “For now, we have a date with the beach.”
Yeah, they did.
Except… except the door to the beach happened to be the one Ballakin disappeared through. The mere idea of following in his footsteps, being near him in any way, turned her stomach.
Her mate took a step toward the doors, but she remained in place, fingers squeezing his bicep. When had she grabbed his arm? She wasn’t sure, but Carla couldn’t make herself release him. She couldn’t force her feet into movement or the new tension to leave her body.
“Shaa soma?”
He wondered what was going on and Carla admitted she wanted to know as well. “I…” she swallowed hard, belly twisting. “Can we watch the sunset from somewhere else?”
Anywhere that meant she didn’t have to trace Ballakin’s steps.
Rendan cupped her cheek, gently forcing her to raise her attention to him. His warmth sank into her blood, heating her and banishing some of the coldness that came with Ballakin’s appearance. He stroked her cheekbone with his callused thumb, the rough texture soothing. It was a reminder that her mate was there, with her, at her side and prepared to keep her safe.
She trusted him. It was easy to trust him with her body. He’d caught her as he’d promised, but she was ready to trust him with her heart.
“We can view the changing colors from Preor Tower’s roof.” He repeated the soft caress. “What troubles you, my Carla?”
Carla was quick to shake her head. “Nothing. I just want—“
“I will protect you from anything—anyone. You need never fear now that I have found you.” He leaned down and pursed his lips, aiming for her forehead, but she wanted more than that. She wanted to feel his lips on hers.
She tilted her head back and pushed to her tip-toes, rising to meet his mouth. The initial touch was a gentle brush of lips, a barely-there caress that ended as quickly as it’d begun.
“Carla,” he rasped, her name a curse and a plea.
“Rendan,” she returned, her tone the same as his—needy.
They’d played, they’d gotten to know one another, and now she wanted… more.
Strong arms wrapped around her, the hall’s light quashed by his large wings enveloping them in a protective cocoon. The next kiss was filled with banked passion, barely controlled desire imbuing every movement. His mouth skated over hers, the small connection sending a tremor of want down her spine. Carla didn’t hesitate to open for him, to part her lips and beckon for a taste.
And Rendan didn’t hesitate to take.
His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking her, caressing and exploring the moist cavern. She did the same to him, pressing closer to his body while she gathered every hint of his natural flavors. Hot and sweet. Spicy with a hint of sugar. Scorching flames banked by the delicate hint of honey. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking her, caressing and exploring the moist cavern.
Delicious.
Tempting.
Alluring.
Hers.
Carla traced the length of his muscular arms, fingers dancing over the carved lines of his body before finally wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled against him, fighting to get even closer. She wanted skin on skin, their bodies entwined and rolling across a silken blanket of aczi.
Her nipples pebbled, hardening within the silk and lace of her bra, and she ached to have them caressed—touched and stroked—by his hands, his mouth, anything.
She wanted him all.
She twined her tongue with his, their bodies moving in a sensuous rhythm as old as time itself. The gentle and seductive thrust and retreat, their tongues mimicking what she craved. Her pussy heated, a low ache forming and gradually spreading. Her clit twitched and the juncture of her thighs grew heavy with unsated desire.
Rendan’s wings remained in place, but that didn’t mean his hands w
ere idle. He stroked her back, tracing her spine, and then rested his palms on the upper curve of her ass. He kneaded and squeezed the globes of her butt, the rough touches adding to the need simmering just beneath the surface. She was desperate for him—to have his fingers, his cock, buried deep inside her. She wanted him to suckle her nipples, fuck her pussy, and roar her name while he filled her with his cum.
Carla shuddered, the stark, animalistic need surprising her. But she didn’t push it away. She embraced the desire, the heat suffusing her body, and the utter craving to be possessed by Rendan.
She whimpered and moaned, practically climbing him in an effort to get closer, to take more from her mate. Her mate. Her mate that she wanted to mate.
For hours. Days. Weeks.
Forever…
One of Rendan’s thighs slipped between hers, his thick leg snug against her aroused flesh and she whined with the pleasurable pressure.
“Rendan,” she whimpered and rocked her hips, looking for more from him.
He moaned in response, his hands gripping her ass and then lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Then they were moving, his heavy tread carrying them… somewhere… until her back pressed against a firm wall.
“Shaa soma…” he murmured against her mouth and then captured her lips once more, sliding his tongue between them. She moved in time with him, her hips rolling while she pretended to fuck him with her tongue. She needed—desperately—and he didn’t seem to mind that she took exactly what she craved.
The hard line of his cock rubbed against her clit, his thick length caressing her through layer after layer of fabric and katoth. She tightened her legs, using the wall at her back and the grip on his shoulders as leverage so she could snatch every ounce of available pleasure. Her pussy rippled, empty sheath tightening and silently begging to be stretched and filled by him. Her clit twitched and jerked with each flex of muscle, her arousal blossoming into undeniable pleasure.
Carla dug her fingers into his shoulders, fighting for more of him, demanding he give her everything while not saying a single word. She wanted more, more, more…
She nipped his lower lip, groaning when he returned the favor and then lapped at the tiny sting he’d caused.