by Celia Kyle
Eric pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw but remained silent, at least, for a moment. “They need to know. Before a half-dozen Preor rip me into pieces for doing what needs to be done, they have to know.”
“I’m leaving.” She shook her head. “Knowing won’t do anything for anyone.”
“You are not leaving.” Smoke billowed from Brukr, and she wondered when one of the other males would step in. One, all, anyone, really.
Hannah repeated herself. “I’m leaving.”
Eric echoed her. “She’s leaving.”
“No.” One word, flat and hard from Brukr.
“Brukr, I understand what you’re trying to do. You think you’re protecting me—”
“Better than the human Eric. He did nothing.” She doubted that. Eric had always been the one to get her out of sticky situations, but she wasn’t going to argue.
“—but right now, I’m protecting the Preor. Let me.”
Finally, someone from the crowd spoke—Ivoth. “Have Whelon check her mind. I believe she has lost her senses.”
Too bad they didn’t tell Brukr to let this go. She didn’t have the patience for this. She pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deep, seeking a calm that slipped out of reach with every beat of her heart.
She had to attack this from a different angle. “Look, I’m never getting my Pol Mutation fixed, which means I’m not a Cole-Daven employee, right? And Cole-Daven employees are friends of Preor. Since I’m not an employee, I’m not a friend of Preor. I don’t need to be protected. I need to go.”
A chorus of grunts. Every single Preor grunted at once. Was it something they taught in school?
“Once a friend,” Jarek began.
“Always a friend,” Taulan ended. The two strongest warriors had basically said no.
Perfect.
“Hannah, you need to tell them.” Eric pointed at her, finger jabbing the air, and she wondered how long he’d get to do that before one of the Preor broke his finger.
“There’s nothing to tell other than the fact that I’m leaving. Now.”
“First, explain why you must leave.” Ivoth again, and Hannah dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling.
“I’m not doing anything but leaving.” Why couldn’t they just let her go?
“Hannah.” A single word from Eric accompanied by an expression she knew well, and she… shook her head. He wasn’t telling and neither was she. She didn’t want to tarnish their memories of her by explaining about her father.
Everyone looked at her differently—treated her differently—when they knew about him.
But while she was able to control herself and even Eric to a point, she couldn’t control… Penelope. “Hannah Kelly is also known as Hannah Carr, only young of Peter and Melody Carr. The truth is known. Hannah will remain. Do I have authorization to relocate Eric now?”
The Preors all had identical frowns, confusion that could only be cleared up with a longer explanation. One she didn’t want to delve into… ever. But the humans—the Preor mates—recognized the Carr name. Hannah was sure nearly everyone on Earth knew about Peter Carr.
“I do not understand.” Brukr carefully closed his wings and then turned to face her. “That is the knowledge you wished to hide? The names of your dam and sire?”
“Do I have authorization?” Penelope was insistent, and Hannah wondered if she truly heard excitement in the computer’s voice.
This was it. It was done. She’d tried to get out without explaining herself, but they all looked at her like she was the devil anyway. So instead of arguing, she closed her eyes and laid it out. Nice and sweet, she said the words that she usually only whispered at night during those times when she dared to dream of more than she had. When she had to remind herself that she didn’t deserve anything better.
“Peter Carr is my father, but he’s also one of the most well-known serial killers. He chose his victims from among the men, women, and children he’d recruited to his religion—a religion he created. People hate him or revere him, and some of his more zealous admirers,” she curled her lips in a twisted grimace, “hunt me. They think they can be closer to him by being closer to me.” The mere idea sent a cold shiver down her spine. “And because of that, I can’t stay.”
Silence from him. Pure quiet, and she wondered if he truly understood what she’d said. Did the Preor have serial killers? Warriors who destroyed lives for the thrill of the kill?
“Step aside, Brukr.” A soft voice, feminine, but not Penelope or Elle. It was a woman who held the most power in the room. The one person Brukr truly couldn’t deny.
He tried anyway. “But War Mistress…”
“Step aside.” Lana’s tone was kind, almost pitying, and Hannah hated for anyone to pity such a strong warrior. “We’ll figure this out, but now isn’t the time. She’s tired from the healing, and shouting at her will only make things worse. She’s healed, so we’ll escort her to her condo. She’ll rest. Decisions can be postponed until she’s fully healed.”
“She’s well enough and doesn’t need to rest.” Eric just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and Hannah opened her eyes to shoot the man another glare. “She’s experienced worse. Hannah—”
Penelope spoke over Eric once more, sounding more like her programmer than a bunch of wires and motherboards. “Can he be relocated now?”
The warriors and their mates gave Penelope the same answer. “No.”
While Brukr said just the opposite. “Yes.”
“Order acknowledged.”
Hannah wondered which order Penelope was choosing to accept. When a soft tinkling of light—a gentle glow—surrounded Eric, she knew.
Chapter Thirteen
Brukr stared out over the vastness of the sea. He leaned on the removable railing, forearms resting on the solid metal while he watched the gentle roll of the waves. The water was dangerous—deadly—to a Preor, but he could not help but see its beauty.
Beauty in the danger. Was that why he remained drawn to Hannah even after he discovered the truth? Caring for her—forcing her to stay with the Preor—was a risk, a risk he did not mind so much.
Metal gently slid against metal, the door at his back parting to allow another to join him. He tilted his head slightly and listened as the newcomer approached, wondering who’d dared to intrude. The steps were heavy, a deep thud, where a female’s would be a soft patter. Yet when the wind gusted, there was no rustling of wings to indicate a Preor’s approach. A strong step with no wings…
Brukr sighed. His training demanded he straighten and salute the newcomer. The rest of him… did not. He allowed his attention to remain on the waters as he spoke. “War Master.”
The male grunted and joined Brukr at the railing. “I should throw you from the tower for disrespect. Warriors stand at attention when the War Master approaches.”
He snorted. “You could attempt.”
“Cohk-ee.” Brukr shrugged, which earned him a sigh from the War Master. “Lana informs me I am responsible for the ‘ee-mo-shen-all well-being’ of my warriors and wishes to know how long you shall be pow-ting. I do not understand her words, but I often do not understand my mate. I informed her warriors did not share our hearts with any but Heart Masters. She did not care and ordered me to approach you. So, I agreed because I did not wish to sleep on the cowch, and I am here. Do you know of pow-ting or ee-mo-shen-s? Can you cease so I can tell my mate you are well?”
He glanced at the War Master from the corner of his eye and lifted a single brow. “The Knowing does not provide you with the information? I believed it shared all between mates.”
“It is different with a human. At least, that is what I am told by Chashan. We do not share the same bond as a Preor mating. Lana knows all of the Preor, but there are still human mysteries.” Taulan shrugged. “Our bond is strong. My heart is filled with her. The Knowing…” He shook his head. “It is not the same as others, but I find I do not care. I have Lana. I have our dragonlets.”
“Would you have claimed her even without the Knowing?” He spoke softly but knew the War Master heard him.
The male stiffened slightly, and Brukr wondered if Taulan would answer.
Then he did. “Lana has asked the question as well. She calls them ‘what if’ questions.” Taulan glared at him. “Do not allow your mate to ever engage in a ‘game of what if.’ The rules are ever-changing.” The War Master sounded so disgruntled, Brukr nearly laughed. Nearly, because he did not believe Taulan found the situation amusing. “But I will tell you what I told her. She did not hold my heart when we met, but it did not take her long to hold it forever. Even if the Knowing were to disappear at this moment, I would not let her go. I would not allow her to leave me and would imprison her, if necessary.”
The War Master released a rueful chuckle. “She informed me that was illegal according to Earth laws and also kree-pee.”
“Kree-pee?”
“I did not understand then. I do not now. I only know I would destroy any who dared try to remove her from my care or harm her in any way.” Taulan rose from the railing, standing tall in front of Brukr, and he felt compelled to match his superior’s stance. “I cannot support your actions when saving Hannah, Warrior Brukr.”
“I…” Excuses were unworthy of a warrior. “I have no justification. I await your punishment.”
And he would endure whatever the War Master decided. He could never regret taking her from the center of that mob. He could never regret the lives he ended—the lives of those who’d hurt her so badly.
Taulan shook his head. “Lana states Hannah has a place in your heart. If you tell me she does, then I only ask you to not set so many aflame in the future. If she does not, we must speak of punishment. On your honor as a favored warrior of the emperor, does Hannah hold part of your heart?”
On his honor as a favored warrior of the emperor… He nearly snorted. No one knew he did not have any honor, specifically when it came to actions that had earned him the emperor’s favor. But that was his secret shame. One he would not reveal—ever. He simply tried to prove himself worthy of the honor every day.
“She…” She was everything, but those were not words he would give the War Master, so he gave the male only one. “Yes.”
Taulan groaned. “Now I must tell Lana she was correct.” He sighed. “She is often correct, but when we argue and then learn she was right, she gl-oats. It is…” the War Master frowned, “not an enjoyable experience.”
From the male’s expression, it seemed the War Master dreaded his mate being right more than he disliked and feared the sea.
“It does not matter.” The male shook his head and moved away. “Come inside.”
The War Master was not punishing him for his actions, and Brukr did not wish to give him a reason to change his mind. He followed the male into the condo—Esteemed Warrior Jarek’s home—and jolted to a stop at the scene before him.
War Mistress Lana bounced on her toes, a wide smile on her face. Her cheeks glowed red and eyes sparkled with excitement. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
Taulan sighed and nodded. That was when his mate punched the air and shook her body in an odd, random pattern.
Brukr lowered his voice and leaned forward. “War Master, is she ill?”
“No, this is her vik-tor-ee dance.”
He did not wish to tell his superior he was wrong, but… “She is not having a seizure? I have seen others…”
“No, she is well. She will cease in a moment and then become smug.”
“Is smug an attack on you? You sound as if it will be painful.”
“Only to my pride,” Taulan grumbled. “Only to my pride.”
Pride was a delicate thing.
Lana did one last shake and hop before stopping and flashing a large smile at her mate. “Told you I was right.”
“Yes, shaa kouva, you did.” The male went to his mate and pulled her close, tucking Lana against his body.
“Does that mean he’s going to stop her?” The War Mistress directed the question at her mate before then focusing on Brukr. “You’re going to stop her, right? There isn’t much time.”
He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “I will go to her now, but I believed it was agreed she would not leave the Preor until morning. Ivoth and Elle indicated her departure was delayed so she could adequately pack.”
“The crowd keeps growing. Eric,” Lana sneered the male’s name, “is demanding she leave tonight. The government will send someone to pack the rest of her things and forward them to her new home. She’s leaving as soon as Eric returns with a fortified shuttle.”
Leaving. With Eric. Those words pounded through his mind, beating an ever-increasing rhythm in his skull. They filled his ears, the roar of the syllables drowning out any other sounds in the room.
Leaving. Eric. Leaving. Eric.
Eric, who looked at Hannah as if he wished to claim her. Brukr… could not allow that to happen. He could not allow another to snare her heart. Not when… not when she owned his so completely. He did not know what to do about being consumed by her, but he could not allow her to leave.
And he didn’t know how to make her stay.
“No.” Was that his voice? Did that word come from him? “No,” the word repeated, single syllable ripped from his throat. “No, she cannot.”
That was his voice, his hardened determination.
“She’s nearly ready,” Lana countered.
Brukr shook his head and backed away from the couple, his denial ongoing. “No. I cannot… She cannot…”
He could not allow it. But instead of speaking those words to the War Master and War Mistress, Brukr decided he would give them to Hannah directly. And the quickest way to get to her was with his wings.
He spun and strode to the clear sliding doors that led to the balcony. They parted for him, not slowing his pace, and granted him exit. Two steps brought him to the railing and he placed his left hand on the metal surface. He braced himself and in one fluid move, swung his legs over the waist-high barrier.
Then the air held him, Syh cradling him with the salty winds off the sea. He fell toward the ground, holding his wings tight against him, arms and legs pulled to his body. He formed a blue-gray torpedo pointed at the earth, his shape cutting through the breeze.
The planet’s gravity drew him closer and closer to the hardened earth, invisible hands yanking him down. It would kill him if he were not a stronger male—a more powerful warrior. But his dragon supported him, gave him strength that others could not harness.
Scales slid over his skin, tan replaced by his beast’s coloring. His muscles stretched and grew, bulging and straining his clothing. His katoth pants clung to his legs while the straps of his uniform tightened over his chest. Still the dragon pushed, adding its power to his wings next. It thickened his bones and supported his wing-base, preparing his body for the sudden stop.
It would be sudden. It would hurt. His bones would threaten to break with the abrupt halt, but the pain would be worth it if he convinced Hannah to remain. Brukr would suffer anything to keep Hannah.
His dragon’s eyes overtook his vision, the shapes and colors of the world altering with its presence. It let him see further, allowed him to spy her condo with ease despite the continued distance. Smoke escaped him, the animal’s excitement at seeing her overtaking his normal breathing. Heat slid over his scales as well, dragon’s-fire acting as if it wished to burst from his body instead of only his mouth. As if being aflame would hurry him onward.
Brukr did not need to be hurried. He wished to be with Hannah just as much as his fire-breathing beast.
He drew closer and closer… and closer still. He’d leapt from the top floor of Preor Tower a
nd now sought a small balcony near its base, a single balcony in a sea of many. He saw his destination, the small rectangle of concrete, but then he saw… her.
Hannah was standing there, hand lifted to shade her eyes, her gaze on Brukr. That was where he belonged—at her side. And he would be there in moments. Only five balconies separated them. Then four. Then three.
His dragon gave him one final burst of strength, a jolt of power that allowed him to spread his wings wide. The wind caught, air tearing at his wing skin in an attempt to rip it from his body. But Brukr was stronger than the gusting air, stronger than the wind’s attempt to snap his wings from his body.
Strong enough to halt his descent. Strong enough to catch Hannah’s railing. Strong enough to swing himself onto that bit of concrete.
Strong enough to tell her not to go?
Chapter Fourteen
There was a Preor on her patio—big, blue-gray, and the most gorgeous specimen of manhood she’d ever seen.
But he didn’t belong on her patio.
She hated that he was on her patio. Didn’t he understand that leaving was hard enough already? She didn’t do ‘goodbyes’ or ‘see you arounds.’ Hannah was one to drift away in the night, break those ties, so she could save her tears.
Brukr wasn’t giving her that option though. Nope, the ground shook with his abrupt landing, his feet slamming against the concrete and knees slightly bent to soften his arrival. He slowly approached the sliding back doors and she stared at the play of muscle as he reached for the identipad. So large, so strong. He could kill anyone with those muscles, but she’d seen him be so gentle with Violet.
He could, but that didn’t mean he would. Except… except those people outside. Her heart hurt for their families. No one asked to have crazy family members, but she was sure they were still loved. Loved and now gone.
Because of the warrior standing on the other side of the door.
A low tone filled the air and the door slid aside, allowing a soft breeze to sweep through the living room. It also allowed him to enter her home. Or rather, her ex-home. Stacks of boxes littered the space, some filled to the top while others remained empty. Normally she could pack and go within an hour—two tops. This time… she couldn’t find the motivation to tuck things away.
