Brukr (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 8)

by Celia Kyle

He had done this even though his dragon protested traveling in such a thing. It wished to use its wings.

  “Brukr,” she sighed and shook her head.

  “You may shout at me for being the hole of an ass once inside the transport.” He held out his hand and stepped closer, extending his wing as he turned and placed it at her back. He used his size to encourage her to move, not his touch, though his body burned to hold her. “War Mistress Lana often informs the War Master than he is one. The War Master is a very strong warrior, stronger than I, but I believe I can at least live through the event.”

  She glanced at him and the corner of her lips twitched in a hint of a smile. He did not know what amused her, but he hoped to continue making her grin.

  “C’mon.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get in the shuttle. I’m so tired there’s a good chance I’ll pass out right here.”

  Honor had nothing to do with his next action. Pure instinct drove him to bend and sweep her into his arms, curl his wings around his precious cargo, and stride to the exit. “I will kill him.”

  Chapter Four

  As good as it felt to be in Brukr’s arms, surrounded by his scent and simply cherished, she knew she couldn’t allow herself to relax. Mainly because when he placed her in a seat within the shuttle, she’d have to act fast to keep him from flying off.

  Literally.

  Well, maybe she could relax a tiny bit. She turned her head ever so slightly and rested her cheek on his bare skin. So warm, comforting, and soothing. A temptation that she had a hard time resisting. It was why she’d rubbed away his scent earlier. She liked having him close, but he was dangerous—to her heart.

  She could fall for him. Easily. A Preor Warrior who searched Earth for his mate—a mate who wasn’t Hannah.

  A soft hiss filled her ears, the only sound that told her they’d reached the shuttle. The door disappeared, granting them entrance, and Brukr bent to lower her to the seat. When he moved to release her, withdraw, and probably go hunt Eric, she grasped his arm.

  With her bad hand. The tight squeeze sent a jolt of agony up her arm, and she moaned. She brought the injured part of her to her chest and cradled it close, groaning again when she made the mistake of moving her wrist.

  “You did that on purpose.” Brukr’s deep rasp remained soft and low.

  “Stopped you?” She wheezed and then drew in another breath, urging the pain to leave her. “Yeah.”

  “Harmed yourself. You know a warrior is bound to care for a female first. I will lose the harsh edge of my anger by the time I care for you and then return to destroy the human Eric.”

  Hannah quirked a brow and drawled, “So sorry to be a burden.”

  That earned her a glare. “I did not state you are—”

  “Brukr?” When he snapped his mouth closed, she continued. “Take me back to Preor Tower. I’m tired. I smell. All I want to do is bathe and crawl into bed. Eric is… Eric. And someone that can be dealt with tomorrow.”

  Or never, if she had her choice. Unfortunately, she didn’t. From the moment she’d reported her father… She mentally sighed. Yeah.

  Brukr huffed and stood, partially bending forward to rest his forearms on the shuttle’s side.

  “Brukr?”

  He huffed again. “Give me a moment to bank my fire, Hannah. The dragon…” He shook his head. “The dragon wishes for violence. You are correct, but that is not enough to placate the beast.”

  He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, breath coming in slow and steady inhales and exhales. His actions gave her a moment to stare at him, to look at the glorious warrior in front of her and basically… ogle.

  She got to ogle.

  Every Preor had what looked like deeply tanned skin and thick muscles, but Hannah liked everything that made Brukr different. The color of his scales—a blue-gray of a stormy sky—and the bump on his nose from a past break. That wasn’t even what drew her eye next. It was the scar across his throat.

  She didn’t know the cause of the near-deadly wound. Brukr had never offered the information, and she would never ask, but it was at least an inch thick, raised and pale against his darker flesh. It spread from one side of his neck to the other, as if something—someone—had tried to cut off his head.

  Hannah didn’t get off on pain or suffering. No, she was drawn to Brukr because he was a survivor. Something that would have killed a lesser warrior hadn’t kept him from proving himself.

  A bad thing in his past didn’t stop him from being what—who—he wanted to be.

  Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him. He was everything she wanted to be.

  “Are you ready to depart?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, trying to hide her heated cheeks from his gaze. “Yes, whenever you are.”

  Brukr grunted and pushed away from the shuttle, the transport rocking slightly with the movement. The door slipped shut with his disappearance, and soon he was next to her within the smaller space.

  His hands drifted over the control pad, fingers engaging the shuttle’s engine and encouraging their transport to rise within moments of taking his seat. They rose higher and higher, not stopping until they were above the tallest of the sky scrapers in Tampa.

  Hannah relaxed into the seat and sighed, staring out at the glittering lights of the city below. They were above the hustle and bustle, in a place where the stress of life couldn’t touch them.

  At least, that was what she liked to pretend until they touched down on solid land again.

  “I have questions.”

  Of course, he did. Every warrior had questions about humans—females in particular—and now the women who worked for Cole-Daven were semi-captive in Preor Tower. If a male had a question about human women or was confused about something, the ladies got a knock on their door.

  “Shoot.”

  “I do not have a weapon. If I did, I would never—”

  She grinned and laughed. “I know you’d never shoot me. It means go ahead. Ask your question.”

  Brukr grunted again. She noticed that about the Preor. If they didn’t know what to say, they simply grunted.

  “Why do you continue to work in that place? That d-eye-ner.”

  “Because I like it?”

  That earned her a glare. “Syh does not like liars.”

  “I don’t want to answer the question, so we’re even,” she mumbled and huffed. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “I am intelligent,” he told her blandly and she glared at him. But he wasn’t done talking. “Does Cole-Daven not provide the females with enough creh-ditz to support you?”

  “They pay—”

  “I can obtain additional creh-ditz if needed.” He jerked his head in a brisk nod. “I shall do so.” He glanced at her. “Do you prefer colored gems or diamonds to convert to creh-ditz?”

  “Huh?”

  “The War Mistress’s dragonlet Lorrasyh creates colored rocks with her fire. Shanas creates diamonds. I believe both are valuable to humans. I could create the stones, but the dragonlets require the practice. Which do you prefer?”

  Hannah stared at him.

  Stared.

  That was it. The quiet of the shuttle wrapped around them in a soundless embrace, and all the while she stared, unable to grasp what he’d said.

  “The dragonlets create gems? Diamonds? They both breathe fire?”

  Brukr shrugged. “It is not known to humans, but—”

  “I’m human,” she pointed at herself and ignored the renewed ache that came with the movement.

  “You are a friend of Preor,” he corrected. “And yes, their fires burn hot enough to form clear and colored rocks humans exchange for creh-ditz. How many do you require?”

  “You want to give me money.” She said the words slowly, trying to make sure she understood him before she gave him her answer.

  “If it will keep you from wer-king at the place named Dirty by the Dozen, then yes.” He nodded. “You are an employee of Cole-Daven. There
should not be a need to work elsewhere. If you will not take rocks from Lorra and Shanas, I will speak with Elle joi Ivoth and request an increase in your compensation.”

  “More for doing nothing?”

  “You do work for Cole-Daven.”

  “I don’t do anything.” She shook her head. “I stand around in a skirt suit and high heels.”

  “Elle joi Ivoth indicates high heels are painful to wear. Enduring pain for another in exchange for creh-ditz is work.”

  He made sense and yet, he didn’t. And she couldn’t explain exactly why.

  “Brukr, Elle is giving us a ridiculous salary to pose for pictures and say a few words into a microphone. I can’t take money for doing nothing. I can’t just spend it when I haven’t earned it.”

  “But you have earned the creh-ditz.” He turned a frown on her. “Was that not what we just agreed?”

  “Okay, she’s paying me to do that but I don’t feel like I earned the credits.” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” She waved behind her, gesturing toward the diner. “At Dirty by the Dozen, I wait tables. I cleanse dishes and submit orders. It’s not pretty work, it’s hard, but it’s work. When the credits go into my account, I feel pride. When I get paid from Cole-Daven…”

  “Elle joi Ivoth states your tasks for Cole-Daven are work as well.”

  Hannah rubbed her forehead, a throbbing ache taking up residence behind her eyes. “It doesn’t feel like work. I haven’t done anything, I haven’t struggled, for those credits. I’m sick. I have Pol Mutation. That’s the only reason I work for Cole-Daven and why they pay me.” She let her attention drift back to the city below. “I’m not meant to wear fancy clothes and make millions of credits. I’m a waitress. I work for every dollar I make.” She peered at him out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t have things handed to me. It’s not who I am.”

  “This is unacceptable.” His voice was hard, unbreakable, and a tendril of smoke escaped his lips.

  “It’s not your choice.” She made sure each word was just as firm, unbendable. “It’s mine. I want to work for Cole-Daven, and while I must take a salary, no one can force me to spend it. I’ll live on what I earn using my own two hands. I won’t have things handed to me.”

  “Even if what you do causes you harm?” Yellowed eyes met hers, the dragon’s fire making his orbs glow in the shuttle’s darkness. “Your wrist—”

  “Is an old injury.” And one she wouldn’t discuss.

  “You limp.”

  Hannah couldn’t deny that accusation. “Because I’ve been on my feet all day. There was an event with Cole-Daven this morning, and then I had to work.”

  “The event finished at nine.”

  “And I had to work at the diner at nine-thirty.”

  “It is after midnight.” More smoke, and Hannah suddenly felt even more tired.

  “Yes, I worked from nine-thirty in the morning to midnight, and then I was supposed to count out, but then Eric showed, and you and…” She shook her head.

  “Which is why you will cease working for Dirty by the Dozen. I will have Penelope cancel your employment.” He raised his voice to speak to the Preor computer system that someone had decided to name Penelope. “Penelope, please terminate—”

  “Cancel his order, Penelope.” She overrode Brukr’s words and ignored his heated stare.

  “Confirmed.” The feminine voice drifted through the shuttle.

  Thankfully, that was when Preor Tower came into sight and Brukr was forced to stop grumbling at her and focus on landing. He carefully lowered the shuttle to the landing pad, easing down until they touched the ground with hardly a thump.

  The moment he powered down, she reached for the shuttle door, intent on escaping. She didn’t want any more of this conversation.

  But Brukr wasn’t done. “Hannah…” Warm fingers touched hers, but she kept her gaze trained on the door. “You cannot continue—”

  “I can and I will, and I’m sorry you can’t respect that.” She turned her head and met his stare. “I’m sorry you can’t respect me.”

  And then… then she was simply done.

  With the day.

  With Brukr.

  With the pain of the day and Brukr.

  Chapter Five

  If Hannah did not answer Brukr’s request for entry soon, he would force his way into her condo. She could still be injured from the previous night. She could need assistance, and the only way to help was to destroy the barrier. Yes, he would force…

  He sighed. No, no he would not. He would like to, though.

  Instead, he touched the pad to the right of her entry once more, and once more it scanned his palm. Inside, the computer would announce a visitor with a soft ding as well as notify Hannah of who waited for entrance.

  Was that why she had not acknowledged his first three requests? Because she did not wish to see him? True, he had angered her last night, but she could not still be upset with him.

  Right?

  Doubt crept into him and unease took up residence in his stomach. Perhaps not. Perhaps she remained furious.

  Unease and… sadness? consumed him. He was tempted to label the emotion worry or anxiety, but Preor warriors were too confident to ever worry. That was a weak, human emotion.

  Brukr placed his palm on the pad once more and wondered if this was the fifth or sixth time he’d requested entrance. Seventh? He was not sure. He had lost count. No, less than seven.

  He would continue until he reached seven. Kate only yelled at her niece after the young one repeated a question more than seven times. He believed seven was the threshold between annoyance and anger for humans.

  Seven was good.

  He lifted his palm, waited for the pad to dim, and prepared to lower his hand once more. Except, before his skin touched the slick surface, the portal slid aside, granting him entrance to Hannah’s condo.

  It also allowed him to hear her shouts.

  “Enter if you’re so impatient you can’t wait five fucking seconds!”

  Perhaps he had greatly surpassed seven requests for entrance. He did not recall Kate cursing at her niece.

  He would apologize once she calmed. For now, he entered her space and lingered in the entry area. He scanned the space, gaze touching on the different areas of her home as he sought her location.

  He leaned forward and peered into the kee-chen and did not find her preparing food. Nor was she eating at a nearby table. He believed humans called the space a die-neeng room. But there were no walls. He was unsure how humans could label it a room with no walls.

  Brukr shook his head. Humans were odd, but not so odd he did not ache for a mate to call his own. He wished for a female to fill his future with love and dragonlets. He sighed and wondered—not for the first time—if Syh punished him for his past. If that was why he had yet to find the female destined for him.

  Another sigh. Another thought for a different time. For now, he still sought Hannah.

  He let his attention continue drifting to her lih-veeng room-without-walls. Still he had not found her. Which meant she resided in the sleeping chamber with walls. He swallowed hard and imagined what more could happen in such a space. Yes, there was sleeping, but there was also more.

  His dragon stirred, interested in the direction of Brukr’s thoughts, and he pushed the feral beast back. Now was not the time, and Hannah was not a female to think of in such a way.

  The dragon disagreed. It wished to think of Hannah bare and willing to mate.

  That thought was reinforced when he finally spied her. Hannah poked her head around the corner, peering at him from within her sleeping chamber, a small cloth wrapped around her body just beneath her arms. It covered her curves but left her shoulders, arms, and legs bare. Large swaths of her pale skin were revealed by the small piece of fabric, and desire surged.

  “You couldn’t have waited five minutes for me to dry my hair?” Her eyes sparkled with annoyance.

  “I was concerned wit
h your well-being.” He did not tell her that he also wished to simply be in her presence. He had no justification for such a craving, and yet, it remained.

  She huffed and straightened, leaning against the door frame. “As you can see, other than being wet, I’m fine.”

  Wet. Wet with water? Or also wet in other ways?

  Brukr cursed his body, his shaft hardening with that thought, with the thought of Hannah wet and spread before him, body flush with a desire that matched his own.

  He drew his mind away from the thoughts of passion and sought focus. “You did not go to medical last night, and you did not comm Healing Master Chashan for an uh-point-ment.”

  “Because I’m fine.” She shook her head and disappeared once more.

  “I told you that Syh does not like liars.” He stepped deeper into her condo, slowly making his way toward her sleeping chamber.

  She peered out at him again. “I was tired, but I got a good night’s sleep. I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “A human minute or a Preor minute? I have found the definition of a human minute varies depending on the speaker. When I wait for Kate and Violet, their human minutes—”

  Hannah dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling, exposing the long, delicate column of her throat. He wished to trace her neck with his tongue, explore every part of her body with his mouth before he surged—

  His cock throbbed, that part of him swelling and pressing hard against his katoth pants. The tanned hide did not stretch to accommodate his thick length and, instead, pinched that sensitive part of him. He grimaced and jerked, and his wings twitched with the sudden jolt.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “A human ten—”

  “Brukr?” She growled his name.

  She should not do so. It merely aroused him further when he should probably feel regret at her annoyance.

  “Yes, Hannah? Would you like me to comm Healing Master Chashan?” Her closeness allowed him to get a better look at her body.

  And the damage to the skin on her feet. The bright redness was a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. Darker spots the color of aged blood covered some areas, and odd-shaped swelling lingered in others. She had limped the previous night yet denied his offer of assistance. Now her feet suffered for her stubbornness. Or was it pride?