by S. E. Smith
Flashes of memory came and went as she slept. Sometimes she barely caught a glimpse of them. At other times, the memories appeared to be playing in agonizing slow motion. Then, there were those that she reached for but couldn’t quite grasp.
As time crept by, the images became clearer and more organized. Her body bowed and a soft moan slipped from her as the weight holding her down rose and fell as if floating on a rough sea. She tried to turn her face into the warm hands that caressed her chilled skin. Finally, the sickening motion calmed, and the seas took on more characteristics of a placid mirrored lake than an ocean of nausea and pain.
Delilah was finally able to relax. She felt – safe. The weight on her chest was beginning to lessen, and she could breathe more easily again. For a while, she was able to sink into a different, more restful sleep, one devoid of dreams.
She didn’t know how much time passed before she surfaced again. This time, she could feel the panic inside her building as the crushing weight returned. Her lips parted, but she couldn’t draw in a breath. Her starving lungs protested. At that moment, she knew she was dying.
No! I can’t. We found each other. I’m not supposed to die. I have to live. If I die, they will be lost, she cried, fighting against the uneven beat of her heart. Help me! Please! Please, help me. Don’t let me… Don’t let us die. Please…. Sara….
Images of her friend promising to never leave her danced through her head. Her mother and father’s harsh sobs and the doctor’s quiet voice replayed as if it were happening right at that moment. She didn’t understand. She had been fine. The kids in school were getting sick, but she had been okay until the night before.
The vision of her going to the cemetery to place flowers on her parents’ graves faded into a scene of people gathered there. They were all in black. Standing off from the crowd was Sara, her blond hair tucked into a messy ponytail.
“Sara,” Delilah called.
Confusion struck her when Sara didn’t acknowledge her. Turning to see what her friend was looking at, she was shocked when she saw her dad holding up her mother. Worried, she started toward them, but the more she walked, the farther away they became.
Calling out to them to wait for her when she saw them turn to leave, she began to run. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she was gasping. She finally fell to her knees, frantically crying and trying to draw in a breath.
She was all alone. Leaning forward, she rocked back and forth and dug her hands into the ground. Her heart hurt, and she couldn’t breathe again. Looking up with tears streaming down her face, she was shocked to see the headstone in front of her.
Delilah Amber Rosewater
Precious daughter
Died 10 years of age
“No! I’m not dead! I lived! Damn you, I lived. Barrack! Brogan! Help me! Help me!” she screamed, struggling to wake up from the nightmare that was suffocating her. “Please… help me. Don’t… don’t let me die. Please… I need you. I need you both.”
We are here, elila. Rest. We will not let you go. I swear on our lives. We will hold you forever, Brogan murmured.
Sleep, Delilah. Let our symbiots heal your heart. You are very ill, little book warrior. They need you to remain calm, Barrack added.
Stay with me, she murmured, suddenly exhausted.
Always. Both men’s voices blended as one.
Delilah forced herself to relax. She could feel the symbiots moving inside her, frantically repairing the damaged tissue and muscles of her heart. Releasing her last hold on awareness, her body and mind began to float.
Not float – fly, she corrected with a small smile. I can fly like a dragon.
Brogan woke from the dream with a soft hiss. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He looked at the window and realized it was almost dawn. The snow was still falling, but it was a continuous gentle fall that looked more like someone was sprinkling powdered sugar from the sky.
“I love it when the snow falls like this,” Delilah murmured.
Brogan slowly turned his head. He was afraid that he was still locked in the dream and had only imagined Delilah’s voice. His expression softened when he saw her lying on her side looking at him.
“Good morning,” she said, her lips curving in a shy smile.
Brogan’s throat worked up and down but no sound came out. Rolling onto his side, he reached out a trembling hand and ran his fingers down her cheek. She turned her head to press a warm kiss to the center of his palm, and he took a shuddering breath.
He looked at the door when he saw movement. Barrack stood in the opening, one hand holding the doorframe. He smiled at his brother.
“She’s awake,” he said.
Delilah rolled onto her back and frowned confusedly at Barrack. Brogan sat up when she did. Heat infused her cheeks when the bedcovers pooled around her waist and she realized that she wasn’t wearing anything.
Yanking up the covers, she held them up under her chin. He reached over and grasped one of her hands, holding it tenderly in his. She looked out of the window again, the frown on her face deepening.
“I dreamed I was dying,” she confessed, not looking at either of them. “I don’t like that dream.”
Barrack stepped over to the bed, sank down on the edge, and tenderly pulled Delilah into his arms. Brogan started to release her hand, but she clung to him. Releasing the cover, she slid her other arm around Barrack and pressed her lips to his neck as he held her.
“You… We don’t like that dream either,” Barrack choked in a harsh voice.
She rubbed her nose against his skin. “Do I want to know what happened?” she asked with a sigh, pulling back to look at Barrack before turning to look at him.
“Your heart gave out,” Brogan said, lifting her fingers to his lips. “There was a defect. You made it through the Dragon’s Fire, but I fear the strain was too much.”
“I… remember.” Her eyes grew distant for a moment before they cleared, and she turned to look at him. “This is why I died before. My parents didn’t know. I saw them at a funeral – my funeral. Is it…? Will I…?” her voice trailed off.
Brogan lifted his free hand. His brother did the same, and they each wiped away the tears from her cheeks. He shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Our symbiots repaired the damage,” Brogan said, cutting off her unspoken fear.
Concern swept through him when she closed her eyes and sagged against Barrack. He tightened his arm around her while Brogan put an extra steadying arm around her. They both ran a caressing hand down her bare back. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. They held her while she cried, knowing that she needed the tears to help her heal.
Brogan was relieved when she sat back and took a deep, calming breath. With another sniff, she gave them both a watery smile. He chuckled when her stomach rumbled.
“I want a hot shower and a huge meal,” she announced.
“I will turn on the generator,” Barrack replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he released her and stood up. “I can prepare the meal as well.”
Brogan grinned. “I will take a shower as well. Someone needs to keep an eye on you,” he teased.
Barrack groaned. “I volunteered too fast,” he muttered in disgusted exaggeration.
“You could always join us – after you turn on the generator, of course,” Delilah suggested.
The hopeful look in her eyes sent a wave of relief through him. Her face glowed with a healthy sheen far different from the way it had looked yesterday morning when she collapsed. He chuckled when he saw the disappointed pout on her lips after Barrack shook his head and gave her a hard, brief kiss.
“Later. Let us take care of you,” Barrack responded, glancing at him.
Brogan nodded in agreement. Until they were positive Delilah was completely healed, they would be cautious. Neither one of them wanted to go through what they already had in the past twenty-four hours.
“Oh, alright,” she reluctantly agreed before she glanced out the window again.
“I have some quiche in the freezer. If you turn the oven on to the number I marked on the wrapping and place it unwrapped on the middle rack, it would make a great breakfast. With the generator on, I can make some toast to go with it.”
“We can make the toast to go with it while you instruct us,” Brogan interjected.
“What does this quiche look like?” Barrack asked.
Delilah lifted her hands and formed a round circle. Brogan grinned when the covers that she was trying to keep tucked under her arms sagged again, revealing her right breast. She released a huff and gave up on any attempt at modesty. From the wicked gleam in her eyes, she’d received exactly the type of response she was hoping for – their undivided attention.
“Oh, well. If you aren’t interested in taking a shower while we have power, you don’t know what you are missing,” she said, pushing the covers aside and rising to her feet. “The quiche is round. I have them on the top shelf of the big freezer. Any flavor is fine with me.”
Brogan’s eyes were glued to the enticing sway of Delilah’s hips and ass as she walked to the bathroom. The men groaned when she lifted her foot and caught the bathroom door to close it. Shaking his head, he looked up at his brother with a rueful grin.
“She is feeling better,” Brogan said.
Barrack pulled his focus away from the door and scowled at him. He knew that they needed to give her time to heal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t appreciate and admire their mate’s delectable body. He shrugged when Barrack raised an eyebrow at him.
“You were admiring the view as much as I was. I’ll behave – mostly,” Brogan said, rolling off the other side of the bed, standing, and stretching his arms over his head. “You’d better put two of those round quiches into the oven. I’m hungry.”
Barrack snorted and turned. “You are lucky I’m better in the kitchen than you are, otherwise you’d be the one downstairs,” he retorted over his shoulder.
“I’m still better at repairing machines. Remember, we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t repaired the engines on our ship,” Brogan good-naturedly called behind his brother.
“That’s what symbiots are for!” Barrack commented.
Brogan’s laughter grew as he listened to his brother loudly stomp down the stairs. He waited until he heard the generator’s faint hum. Turning toward the closed bathroom door, he began removing his clothes. The sound of the shower starting and Delilah’s loud moan of pleasure made him undress even faster. Tossing his clothes on the chair by the window, he touched his symbiot.
Is she healed? he inquired, wanting reassurance before he stepped into the bathroom.
Warmth filled him, answering his question. His hand gripped the doorknob. He twisted it and pushed the door open. The bathroom was already filling up with steam from the hot water. Closing the door behind him, he stepped up to the clear shower doors and watched Delilah lift her arms to run her fingers through her hair. Through the fogged glass, he could see her profile.
I’m just going to help her, he silently swore.
All thoughts of behaving flew from his mind when he opened the shower door and she turned toward him. The look in her eyes held a promise that this was going to be a long and pleasurable shower. He stepped into the long stall and slid the door closed behind him.
“Would you mind helping me?” she asked, holding the liquid soap out to him. “I have an overwhelming need to feel your hands on me.”
Brogan, remember what we agreed! Barrack’s dire words of warning rang through his mind.
Either join us or go away, Barrack. Our mate asked for my help. I’m not about to tell her no, Brogan retorted,
He felt his brother connect with the symbiot on Delilah. The sounds of curses rang through his head until he muted them. Downstairs he heard the sound of the oven door slamming shut, and seconds later the rapid ascent of footsteps on the stairs.
He had just begun to slide his soapy hands over Delilah’s skin when the air pressure changed in the room as Barrack opened the bathroom door. Delilah’s delighted giggle filled the air with joy when a naked Barrack opened the shower door and motioned for them to make room.
“Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Bubba Joe and go with the fiberglass shower stall. All of us would have never fit if I had,” she moaned, her breath speeding up when Barrack pressed up behind her.
What is the best prescription for making you feel better? Having not one, but two hunky, sexy, super-hot aliens soaping you down in a shower with unlimited hot water, Delilah thought with glee.
It was amazing how almost dying liberated a person of all their doubts and fears. Any misgivings she might have had quickly melted under the onslaught of their tender caresses. Their night together had been amazing, but she had still had that tiny subconscious sliver of uncertainty haunting her.
All doubt was gone now. She wanted to live. She wanted to love. And she was not going to let anything get in her way, not even the two guys so determined to treat her like a fragile piece of glass.
Diamond, a voice whispered.
Delilah’s hands paused on Brogan’s chest. She had felt this strange pressure growing inside her shortly after she had made love with them and the morning of her collapse. In fact, this strange voice was the one who had called out for help when she couldn’t.
At first, she had thought that it was the symbiots. They had always communicated with her before, but in pictures, not words. Trying to focus while the men were running their hands over her made it difficult to determine what else was different about this voice. It actually felt like whoever was talking was inside her head.
I here now. We like diamond, not glass. We strong, the voice continued.
Who… are we? Are you my… dragon? Delilah thought, unsure if the voice could hear her.
You think, I hear. I think, you hear. We are one, the voice replied.
A mental image rose in Delilah’s mind of a rose-colored dragon. She was delicate with hazel eyes that danced with mischief. Her breath caught at the creature’s beauty when she unfolded her wings and shook.
“Elila, are you feeling unwell?” Brogan asked, his hands coming up to capture hers.
“I knew it was too soon. We need to get her back to the ship and have the healer examine her,” Barrack stated in a voice filled with worry.
Delilah frantically shook her head. She didn’t want to lose the connection she had with her dragon, but she also didn’t want the men to be worried about her health. She was fine. Hell, she was more than fine. She was a dragon-shifter!
“I see her,” Delilah whispered in awe.
Barrack’s hands tightened on her hips. “Who?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “My dragon,” she replied with a bemused smile. “She said we are like a diamond, not glass.”
She looked around when Brogan muttered a reverent curse. Giggling, she saw a flash of green and white scales run along his body before disappearing. The giggles faded when she saw her arms.
“My dragon cannot wait for his mate,” Barrack murmured, pressing his lips to her shoulder.
“I have scales,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. “I have scales. I have scales!”
Both men laughed. “Yes, you have very beautiful scales,” Brogan agreed.
Delilah looked up at him. “Can I change? How do I change? Will it hurt? I mean, my bones will be like popping and snapping, won’t they? It didn’t look like it hurt when you did it, but I didn’t see you actually change, but you both looked so awesome and…. Can I shift? Please?”
She gave Brogan her biggest and best puppy-dog eyes ever. The look had never failed to work on her dad or her grandfather. The doubt in his eyes wavered before fading to resignation. He glanced over her head at Barrack.
“No,” Barrack said, his hand pulling her against him. “She is still recovering. We said we need to get her checked out by the healer before we did anything else.”
“She’s giving me the look,” Brogan defended.
&nbs
p; “Delilah, you almost died less than twenty-four hours ago,” Barrack said, reaching behind him and turning off the shower before he turned her to face him. “No, no, no, no… yes!” He scowled.
Delilah laughed and slid her arms around Barrack. She hugged him, loving the fact that she could do this. Being with them, holding them, felt natural and right to her now, and she was going to love every second of it.
“Where did that come from?” Brogan asked with a raised eyebrow.
Barrack made a face. “Shut up, my dragon slipped that one in,” he muttered, lowering his head to rub his cheek against Delilah’s wet hair. “But – there are some conditions.”
“What kind of conditions?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.
“First, we need to get you dried off and dressed. You might have noticed it’s freezing outside,” he teased.
Delilah looked down between them. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face when she saw the evidence of his not-so-frozen body. Her eyes twinkled with mirth when she looked up at him again.
“I know where I can warm my hands,” she teased.
Barrack scowled at Brogan. “She is going to be trouble,” he said with a shake of his head.
“She is listening,” Delilah reminded him, reaching down and tugging on a part of his anatomy that definitely drew his attention back to her. “What is the second condition?”
“Food,” Brogan chuckled, reaching over and pulling the shower door open. “Otherwise, we will be back in the bed until the snow melts.”
Delilah released Barrack with a cheeky grin and took the towel Brogan was holding out. She jumped when Barrack smacked her on the ass. A soft, rumbling purr escaped her and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. With wide eyes, she remained still as the two men dried her off before drying themselves.
