by Celia Kyle
Respect was another thing she resorted to when faced with anger.
“No,” he snapped, that glare darkening even further. His wings fluttered—trembling almost violently. A true sign of his agitation.
And the depth of his rage.
She swallowed hard again, pushing past the growing lump in her throat. She shoved down her immediate apology—forced herself not to cower beneath the heat of his wrath. Instead, she simply tilted her head respectfully, acknowledging his denial.
Carla proceeded to go through her assigned morning tasks, the short list she’d worked out with Chashan during her first day. She checked the stock of bandages and gloves. Emptied the autoclave and tidied the small rooms they’d established for human patients. Could Chashan use the ryaapir platforms on humans? Yes. But for now—while the Preor were still a mystery to humans—they’d use traditional medical practices.
She checked the time piece on the wall—noting that it neared nine—and returned to her station. She pulled up the records for their first patient, intent on performing her job perfectly while the healing master remained so angry.
The first appointment was for a human new hire. The Preor had processed her paperwork and confirmed her employment—pending a satisfactory exam. Really, a drug test. They wanted to perform the process themselves after the Ujal had so much trouble with human subterfuge.
Carla couldn’t blame them.
She loaded the information to her datapad, quickly bringing up the chart just as the woman stepped into medical. She eased into the space slowly, gaze taking in every inch of the room in a quick glance. She couldn’t blame the woman for her wariness. The Preor were hot, but they were also aliens—with wings.
“Hi,” Carla stepped forward. “I’m Car—“
“I will assist her, Nurse Butler.” Both of them jolted with Chashan’s snarl and sudden appearance, his movements brisk as he snatched the datapad out of her hands. “You are not needed.”
“Oh.” She jerked back, taking a step away from him. “Of course.” She gave the patient a—hopefully reassuring—smile.
Panic filled the patient’s expression, eyes widening while her chest rose and fell with her soft panting. Carla licked her lips and straightened her spine. She could cower with the best of them, but she was strong and determined when it came to patient care. Now anyway. Grace’s actions when Kozav was injured had given her a new strength. One she’d use now while she advocated for the woman.
“Human females are accustomed to having a woman present when a physician is a male.” She kept her tone respectful with an underlying layer of steel.
The patient nodded but remained silent.
“Your presence is not necessary. I am an honorable male.” More sneering and Carla’s heartbeat increased, tempo soaring.
Carla shot another smile at the patient, hating the way the woman’s shoulders curled and the shuffle she took toward the doorway. “Of course you are. It’s just that human females—”
“I will not have you poisoning the minds of females. There is the chance she could mate with one of our warriors and I will not allow you to convince her to—“ He snapped his mouth closed and his eyes flashed to his dragon’s gaze for a split second before returning to normal.
Okay, this was a bit more than a bad mood.
Carla eased toward the doorway, closing the distance between her and the patient. She didn’t know what was going on, but now was not the time to do any kind of exam. “Miss…” she racked her brain for the patient’s name. “Miss Price, it might be best if we reschedule for another day. Perhaps you can call reception to resched—“
“Now you turn honorable females away?” Chashan curled his lip. “How many males will you deny mates—dragonlets? Is it not enough what you have done to your own mate? How deep can your dishonor go?”
She took a deep breath and reached behind her, hand fumbling to find the identipad, and pressed her thumb against the panel. “Miss Price, I’ll call you to reschedule at another time. Preor medical is closed for the day.”
She didn’t have the authority to say such a thing, but Chashan was in no state to examine—hell, talk to—anyone.
“They said I only had…”
“Your job will be secure.” She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I believe Healing Master Chashan is coming down with something and you know how men are.” Her grin widened while she shot for a conciliatory tone and expression.
Miss Price’s gaze bounced between her and Chashan before the patient finally nodded. “Sure, I’ll call later.”
Chashan growled low, the rumble growing in volume, and Carla softly nudged Miss Price from the room.
The second the doors slid shut, Carla spun to face the raging male. She could—would—put up with a lot. Getting yelled at for doing a shitty job? Sure. Mistakes could cost lives in her line of work. Being bitchy during her period? Yeah, she could get called to the carpet and wouldn’t complain. Much.
Catching a shit-storm for something she didn’t do and then being accused of acting dishonorably? Yeah. Not happening. In her book, dishonor meant she wasn’t doing her job properly and that flat-out wasn’t true. Not while the Knowing flowed through her. Not while Chashan had been present during her every interaction with a patient.
“You dare!” His bellow echoed off the walls, vibrating through her bones with the volume of his shout.
“No,” she snapped off the word. “You dare! You scared that patient, and you tried to deny her right to have a female present during an exam. The Preor agreed that when human patients sought treatment, they would be afforded all human rights and laws pertaining to treatment.” She stepped toward him. Her determination grew with each word that rolled off her tongue. “That they would be treated with the respect and dedication that every human doctor is required to show their own patients.”
She wouldn’t bring up the fact that the humans at East Fortuna Medical hadn’t exactly stuck to that edict when Preors were brought in after a nearly deadly accident.
“We do not need a female like you poisoning the minds of other human females. Females who could be matches and you would convince them to…” Disgust filled his face. “Prevent offspring as you have done.”
The accusation smacked her in the face, his words plunging into her heart. “Prevent offspring?” she whispered the words. “What?”
She shook her head. She’d wanted kids, a family, for as long as she could remember. Sure, she was careful if she wasn’t sure of the strength of her relationship. No woman wanted to be a single mom. But she hadn’t… Carla pressed a hand to her lower-stomach, wondering if her love making with Rendan last night had resulted in a baby. She hadn’t been on pregnancy blockers for a while and…
Chashan pointed at her belly. “Is it guilt that makes you clutch your womb?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She shook her head again, confusion plaguing her. “Guilt? About what?”
He snorted. “You dare deny your demands?” He shook his head, that disgust still coating his features. “You refuse your mate unless he receives the injection. You refuse him offspring. You demand he make his syha’i useless.”
Carla stumbled back beneath the heft of his fury and the words that scraped her skin. “Rendan? He…”
“Demanded I prevent pregnancy due to your desires. You would not accept him if he could not guarantee you would not conceive.” Chashan’s lips tightened, pressing together until they formed a harsh line above his chin. “You would even go so far as to end your offspring’s life.”
“Rendan said this? He came to you and said this?” She shook her head, unable to believe the male’s words. “But it’s not true. I would never…”
She no longer saw Chashan, but Rendan. Rendan the previous night. Rendan as he stared at where they were joined and the rush of wetness that followed his withdrawal.
Rendan’s… look of horror. The expression was fleeting and she’d pretended not to see it, but sh
e couldn’t fool herself into believing she was mistaken.
But Chashan was wrong. He had to be.
“Did you…”
“I am bound by the Healer’s Vow.” Which meant that Rendan’s request had been granted. He’d been injected so his syha’i was now unable to impregnate her.
“I…” Her mind couldn’t cling to one thought, each one whipping past and out of her grasp before the next flew toward her. He’d… “I have to go.”
Carla didn’t wait for Chashan’s permission. She simply spun and entered the hallway, anxious to find Rendan… and get answers.
She wasn’t sure where she could find him. They hadn’t discussed his plans for the day, but there had to be someone in Preor Tower who could help her. Someone—
She turned a corner and slammed into an immovable wall. She stumbled back and nearly fell if it hadn’t been for the large hands that grasped her arms—hard. She tilted her head back, gaze following the hands that held her so tightly and not stopping until she met… Ballakin’s stare. Loathing swirled in the depths of his green orbs, pupils narrowing to his dragon’s gaze before flattening into circles once more.
“Oh! Sorry.” She moved to step free of his hold, but he merely tightened his grasp, continuing to hold her close. Revulsion and fear slid down her spine, the feelings so very different than when she was with Chashan. She tried to get free again. “I didn’t mean to run into you like that. I was just in a hurry to find Rendan and…”
Ballakin curled his lip and she wondered who else knew about what Rendan had done—the actions he’d taken and blamed on her.
She froze in his hold, prey wary of a predator, and kept her voice soft when she spoke again. She didn’t have time—or patience—to get into another argument. She needed to save her frustration for her mate.
Her mate who’d betrayed her.
Tears stung her eyes, the swirling emotions of the morning closing in on her—threatening to overwhelm her in a tidal wave of agony.
“You search for your mate.” He glared at her and a ripple of muted green scales slipped across his chest, his wings slightly twitching, and she wondered what’d happen next. She hated the feelings she got around him, the unease that plagued her when in his presence. Would he finally act out? Would she finally find out what was in his soul that made her dislike him?
But as quickly as the look appeared, it vanished. Replaced by a smile so obviously fake that a frigid unease settled low in her stomach. Anyone who walked by would think their interaction was pleasant, but she felt his hate in the air.
Felt, and feared, it.
“Um,” she licked her lips, hating the nervousness that plagued her. “Yes. I just need to talk to him for a second and—“
“I believe they are training from the roof.” That smile remained, hard and stiff as he released her, allowing her to put space between them. “The Training Master wishes the warriors to learn some of Kozav’s techniques.”
“Oh, are you headed there, then?”
Anger flashed in his eyes and was quickly gone. “No, I have learned all I need to know. I am a defense master in all but name.”
She hoped not. Prayed not, anyway. “Oh, right. Of course you would know how to do all that.” She waved her hand. “I mean, you wouldn’t be participating in the Trials of Syh if you weren’t highly skilled.” She just had to placate him long enough to get away and find Rendan. She could deal with him that long. “You, uh, said they were on the roof?”
Ballakin grunted. “They will not allow a female up there. They removed the protective barrier from the edges to allow for easier landings.”
“Well, I promise not to get near the edge.” She gave him an equally fake smile. Unless it’s to push Rendan off it.
“Come.” He strode to a nearby door, the lock an identipad that opened for his print. “I will show you the path that will allow you to gain access unnoticed.”
The panels parted, exposing a dark hallway beyond the threshold. Should she go with him? Should she follow? Part of her screamed it was a stupid idea, but Preors cherished women. Sure, it seemed they lied to them, but they weren’t supposed to be violent toward females.
Supposed to be.
Carla met Ballakin’s stare and then flicked her attention back to the darkness. She reminded herself why she was standing in the hallway even having a conversation with the warrior.
Rendan.
Carla squared her shoulders. “Lead the way.”
His smirk should have told her the whole plan was a bad idea. She shouldn’t go hunting her mate. She should go back to her—no longer their—condo and wait for him.
Instead, she followed. She trailed after him through the darkness, the path lit by the sporadic safety light and nothing more. Dust stirred, tossed into the air from their gradual climb up the steps. And up. And up. And up some more. Slowly her heart rate increased, exertion taking its toll on her body, but she continued.
Until they nearly reached the end of the stairwell. Ballakin stopped on one of the landings and she peered into the darkness, searching for the floor number. They were only two levels from the roof now—thank the skies.
“Continue on this path. The Training Master may argue, but once he realizes your identity, he will calm.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for leading me…”
“Perhaps additional duties, but you are a Preor mate. I could not deny you.”
His words were right. His tone was wrong. Regardless, she was nearly to her destination and her righteous indignation was still burning brightly in her chest.
“Thanks so much for your help, then. I appreciate it.”
He placed his fist over his heart in a salute. “My honor to serve a mate.”
They parted ways, Ballakin descending, his heavy tread thumping out a monotonous rhythm as he left her. Carla climbed the steps, the lights growing brighter the higher she ascended, and she finally stopped in front of the final door.
Bright red lights gleamed, proclaiming it was an exit. She inspected the door jamb, searching for a glowing identipad that she could use to open the portal, but found nothing.
Nothing more than a metal bar that dissected the large panel. Just above it was a small sign. Push.
She frowned. Push? She placed her palm on the bar and nudged the piece of metal, surprised when it gave way beneath her hand. Huh. It had to be one of those old, antique doors she’d read about. In Preor Tower? The building was old, but…
She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in history. She had a mate to yell at.
This time, Carla pushed, her weight behind the shove, and gradually swung the door outward toward the roof. She peered around the edge, hunting for any warriors that might be hanging around. She knew the insignia that proclaimed the masters and she sought him out first. If Rendan wasn’t around, that guy could keep her from getting kicked out.
Except, she didn’t see anyone. The roof was empty—silent—with not a single Preor in the area.
She slipped through the door and onto the scorching roof, heat from the flooring bouncing back and doubling the warmth from the sun. The breeze off the sea did nothing to cool her and sweat immediately formed on her brow. Goody.
Carla moved to the center of the roof, turning in a slow circle, hunting for anyone on the roof. Ballakin had to have been mistaken. There was no one training there.
But they were learning Kozav’s tricks—his ability to fly perfectly vertical—something not many Preor could do.
She padded toward the edge of the roof, hating that the Preor had removed the railing even as she understood the intelligence in the action. She peered over the rim, gaze scanning for any hint of her mate or other Preors. Unfortunately, she was looking down when she should have been looking behind her.
Mainly because that was when she fell over the edge.
13
Unfamiliar anxiety drove Rendan. It demanded he hurry, to fly as fast as he could back to the mainland. It crawled beneath hi
s skin, scraping his nerves and pushing him to travel even faster. Anxiety and then fear.
Terror.
He drew nearer to his destination, Preor Tower well within sight, and he didn’t care that he violated Taulan’s orders. Or that other warriors flew at his tail, several snarling and growling at him through their dragon’s maws.
They were friends and fellow warriors, attempting to stop him from wreaking havoc. No one knew he’d consummated his mating with Carla. They still assumed the mating was unresolved.
They thought he suffered from the Knowing sickness—madness.
No, it was merely terror. Terror that had him diving off the training platform in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. Terror that had him shifting into his dragon form. Terror that had him racing across the seas as quickly as his wings could carry him.
The beach was within view, pedestrians freezing in place and staring openly at him as he approached. He knew his massive presence frightened them and his fellow warriors did not make the situation any better.
Yet he would not stop. Not when movement at the top of Preor Tower drew his attention.
A small person—human—stood atop the roof, very near the edge. Wind whipped through the air, pulling at the human’s clothing and hair, and Rendan’s heart stopped beating. He recognized that honeyed color, the brightness of the sun’s light captured in every strand. He recognized the lush body, the curves he’d so recently traced with his hands and mouth.
He recognized… her. Panic suffused him, the unexplained emotions suddenly making sense as he realized they were hers.
Carla was anxious. Scared. Worried. Afraid.
And had been for quite some time.
He pushed his body hard, flapping his wings in an increasing pace, riding the waves of the wind. He dug deep for more energy, more strength. Her closeness to the edge scared the living skies out of him and he needed to be on that roof and at her side.
Except… suddenly she wasn’t on that roof. No, she tipped over the edge, arms waving as she tumbled down.