by Celia Kyle
Zadri
Dragons of Preor
Celia Kyle
Erin Tate
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Contents
Dragons of Preor: Zadri
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
Dragons of Preor: Zadri
What’s a single, pregnant woman supposed to do when her family wants the baby gone? Go to Preor Choosing Station Tau and hope a dragon shapeshifting alien is her mate, of course.
Delaney Cole found her mate among the Preor only to watch him die—through his own eyes thanks to the Knowing. Now, what’s she supposed to do when she discovers that her second mate is the male who’d killed her first? It doesn’t matter that he’s gorgeous, that his peach scales invite her touch, and his thick muscles make her fingers tingle with the need to caress him. She shouldn’t want such a violent, deadly male, but… she does.
Zadri was born a son of Syh, orphaned and unwanted, and he never imagined actually having a mate. Yet, Delaney is his. Yes, he was the one to rip out her first mate’s throat, but now that he has experienced the Knowing with her, he will not let her go. Her lush curves, inner strength, and unborn young belong to him—wholly and until he takes his final flight.
When others attempt to rip her from his life, he will explain the gravity of their error. Slowly. Painfully. He only hopes he can reach her before they escape.
1
Zadri wondered what terrors plagued the small female before him. She thrashed on the medical platform, her small arms tugging against the firm restraints around her wrists. He mentally snarled at their presence but could not deny their necessity.
The woman whimpered and jerked her right arm, fist only raising a few inches before relaxing back down to the soft surface beneath her. She turned her head so quickly her dark hair followed the movement, hiding her face from his sight. That same snap came again, allowing him to see her once more.
Allowed him to see her delicate nose, the tip rising ever-so-slightly. The fullness of her lips, lips he ached to taste. Her face was slightly rounded yet her cheeks appeared hollow, a sign of her need for sustenance though he did not believe she’d wanted for long. The elegant line of her pale neck, skin so light he could see the slight blue-green tint of her veins.
Zadri did not allow himself to focus on her breasts, a hint of shame filling him for lusting over a female that was not awake.
A female that did not belong to him.
He did let his stare wander to the mound of her belly, the roundness not caused by what humans called fat but by a dragonlet. No, that was not correct. Humans called their offspring children.
The offspring inside this female was human and considered small according to Human-Healer Butler—the human-Preor mate of another warrior. He wondered if it was due to the woman’s hunger and difficulties, or if the child’s sire was merely weak.
Though all human males were considered weak. None on Earth were stronger than the Preor—especially not humans. He decided the diminutive shape was its sire’s fault.
A Preor would not create such tiny dragonlets. Even a damaged Preor such as he.
The mound of her stomach rippled, a sign the dragonlet stirred within its dam, and he moved closer to that part of her. He ignored her taunting scent as he bent down.
He would not lust after an unconscious female.
He would not.
Unfortunately, his wred—cock—seemed unaware of his decision. Arousal struck him, desire unlike he’d ever known suffusing his blood, and Zadri swallowed the groan that threatened to break free. His length grew, stiffening beneath his katoth pants—the material much like Earth leather and equally unforgiving.
Every part of him wanted this female at his side, beneath him, atop him… any way he could have her. Forever.
Even if it could not be.
Her belly moved once more, weight shifting as the dragonlet sought more room within its dam. Human-Healer Butler informed him the child merely moved. It was normal for offspring—Preor or human—and did not harm the dam.
He was not sure he believed her.
But he had unintentionally discovered a way to calm and soothe the young one. He beckoned his dragon self forward, the more feral and ferocious part of his body. It immediately responded, slightly altering his voice for what was to come.
Zadri bent, lips a mere inch from her cloth-covered skin, and released a low trill. It was a song he vaguely remembered, one from when he’d been alone and scared as a dragonlet with his dam’s shell still clinging to his scales. A stranger had calmed him with the sounds just as he now calmed the dragonlet still growing within its mother’s womb.
He was unsure of the Preor word for that part of a female. He’d never sought to learn. Not when he was unworthy of a mate. A child of Syh… he mentally sighed and shook his head. It did not matter. His only focus was to quiet the dragonlet.
He released the soft song once more, the rising and falling tones reaching out to the female’s offspring. The rippling soon slowed, gradually reducing until the child no longer shifted and shoved inside its dam.
He returned to his position near her head, gaze locked on the human female. He hated the way she suffered—the reason she had yet to wake. In truth, he was the reason.
Zadri had killed her mate. At least, that was the current belief. That the male he’d killed was fated to mate this small female. Killed. Such a simple word. In truth, he’d ripped out Ballakin’s throat with a single bite and allowed the male dragon’s body fall into the Gulf of Mexico. The killing was justified, Ballakin had kidnapped another’s female with the intent to murder her, but the male’s death resulted in the pregnant woman’s unconscious state.
The loss of a mate… Damaging. Deadly.
Yet she had not died. She remained clinging to life and he wondered if that was because she truly desired to live or if she only lived for her offspring. Regardless, her heart still beat in her chest even if her eyes did not open and meet his.
He wished he could see her eyes. He got a glimpse each time Healing Master Chashan checked her p-you-pills. Humans called them brown, but they were so much more. A combination of Earth dirt and the green of living things.
Hazel, a part of him pushed the word forward and Zadri shoved it back. His mind recoiled against the intrusion, the pressure of something attempting to fill him with… knowledge.
The Knowing, it tried to surge once more. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His mind slowly cracked more day by day, soon to shatter into pieces that could never be mended. He was not experiencing the Knowing. He had not met his mate and the blood history of his people did not fill his every thought.
The Knowing only came when two destined mates met, giving them the full weight of the Preor genetic knowledge. It was too much for a single mind—Preor or human.
Though he could not deny the presence of something inside him. Facts
previously unknown now crept into his mind. As if the Knowing was present despite his unwillingness to believe.
Believe that a child of Syh would ever be worthy of a female of his own. That did not change the fact that he had sat at this female’s side for days, only leaving to perform his duties as the newly appointed Defense Master.
The female whimpered and he reached for her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. He did not allow himself to touch her skin. He was not sure what he would do if his fingers caressed her flesh.
“Hush, Delaney Cole. You are well. You are safe,” he whispered the words, unwilling to draw the attention of the healing master. Chashan would eject him if the male believed Zadri disturbed Delaney.
His pay-shent needed rest.
All Delaney had done was rest, but Zadri did not remind the male of that fact.
Delaney released a soft sigh, her face turning more fully toward him and a relaxed expression overtaking her features. As if his voice—his words—soothed her. Part of him hoped they did. Hoped his presence calmed both the female and the dragonlet inside her.
That the Knowing stretched between them and—
And nothing. She was Ballakin’s mate no longer connected to her deceased other half. She was not his.
The Knowing, that low voice, pushed at him once more and he clenched his teeth, flexing his jaw.
He did not experience the Knowing due to Delaney or any other. She belonged to Ballakin.
There have been several instances in Preor history when clutchma—
Zadri pushed it away once more. He would not listen to… whatever lurked inside his mind.
The doors to medical parted with a low whoosh, granting someone entrance. Zadri breathed deeply and listened to the newcomer’s approach, attempting to identify the room’s newest occupant. The heavy tread of boots on metal combined with the new scent told him who approached.
“War Master Taulan,” he murmured the soft greeting, gaze still on Delaney.
The war master merely grunted and stepped to Zadri’s side. The male’s skin held a slight purple hue, proof of his heightened emotions. Normally a Preor’s flesh remained a copper color the humans called tan. The appearance of scales was a sign of the loss of control and heightened emotion.
They remained there, side by side, and watched Delaney breathe. Watching her breathe drew his attention to her chest and subsequently the fullness of her breasts. His wred firmed further, his need growing with the glance at those pale mounds.
Zadri mentally cursed himself for behaving like such an animal. Worthy warriors did not lust after females in Delaney’s condition.
The Knowing shoved its way to the front of his mind, dumping information and overriding his thoughts. Mates would always crave each other’s bodies. Always.
But he was not her…
Raised voices came from outside medical, a deep tenor countered by a high soprano that scraped against his ears. It was more a screech than actual speech.
“Delaney’s sire and dam approach,” the war master murmured and Zadri’s gut clenched. They would wish to take Delaney, to put her out of his reach.
His dragon reacted to that thought, surging forward with its rage filled objection. It did not wish to release Delaney into any other’s care. She was… his. Theirs.
No. That was a lie the dragon chose to tell itself. She was Ballakin’s.
Zadri remained silent, not reacting to his superior’s statement.
“And the nooz is still demanding information about the battle over their Gulf of Mexico.” Apparently the nooz had not yet learned it was an error to demand anything of the Preor war master.
Zadri pressed his lips together, choosing to cling to his silence. He did not believe Taulan would reveal the truth—that Ballakin kidnapped a female and he and Rendan recovered her. It was more—much bloodier—than those simple words.
“Zadri,” the war master hissed. Strong, claw-tipped fingers gripped his bare shoulder and spun him around, forcing him to face the other male. Taulan invaded his space, stepping forward until their chests nearly touched. “Her pare-ents are demanding her release. They want her returned to them. Can you give me a reason to deny them?”
Because I do not wish it.
But that was not enough.
“No,” he rasped, ignoring the rush of the Knowing in his soul. It suffused his blood, burning him from inside out with its denial. No, he would not allow the blood history to control him.
Taulan narrowed his eyes but did not argue further. Especially not when medical’s doors parted, granting two humans entrance.
Zadri saw some hints of Delaney in their appearances. She had her sire’s nose and her dam’s chin. When her dam turned furious eyes on him, he noted she shared the color with her dam, as well.
The woman’s attention shifted from him to Taulan and then to Delaney. Those eyes hardened, flicking over Delaney’s body, going cold when they landed on the roundness of her stomach.
Cold. Heartless. Angry?
Zadri stepped to the side, blocking the female’s view of Delaney. A feeling of distaste rolled through him, his dragon’s breath filling his lungs. The feral heart inside him ached to let the smoke escape his nose, remind the humans that they did not face one of their own kind.
But he did not. For all her hardness, she was still Delaney’s dam and to be respected. He did not have to like her to treat her well. They had arrived—finally and days after Delaney’s collapse—to care for their offspring.
Dam Cole’s lip twitched, as if she wished to sneer at their small group but then thought better of the movement.
Zadri’s wings trembled, his distaste for Delaney’s dam growing with that hint of expression. His skin stretched and stung as his shoulders broadened, his dragon heart aching to defend Delaney from… what? Dislike?
Taulan would say such a reaction was unacceptable.
Zadri’s dragon’s heart disagreed.
Dam Cole spun and sought out another, her gaze scanning medical until her stare landed on Healing Master Chashan. Then she stomped toward the male, her human mate right behind her, his gaze missing nothing.
And Zadri… remained in place, body blocking Delaney from them both. As if she needed protection from the duo. He was unsure what motivated the reaction, but he did not suppress it.
Not when unease plagued him so strongly around those two.
Taulan sighed and stepped away from Delaney’s medical platform. “If you cannot provide a reason, then,” the war master grimaced, “I shall go speak with them.”
The war master went to Delaney’s parents, joining their small circle that also included Chashan. Zadri pushed the argument from his mind, choosing to focus on Delaney instead. He silently stared at her, memorizing her appearance, tracing every line of her face with his gaze. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.
Yet not.
He would always remember the color of her hair, the lightness of her skin, and the delicate notes of her natural scent. He would not, however, recall the taste of her lips on his. A desire that lived in his very soul and demanded he sate that single need.
One kiss.
One brush of lips on lips.
One… he leaned down, cursing himself for being a dishonorable male while also anticipating the touch of their mouths.
The connection was more than he’d ever imagined, the lushness of her lips pillowing his softly while her scent invaded his flesh as if it was a physical thing. Gentle and slow, he let the kiss linger, his tongue brushing the seam of her mouth with the lightness of a feather even as he cursed himself for being so dishonorable.
Her flavors exploded across his tongue, sweet and dark with hints of heat that called to his dragon’s heart. It wanted to roar with its joy, the unimaginable pleasure of that tiny connection. He moaned as the taste of her filled his entire body, his wings trembling with an uncontrollable rush of need.
And in return…
Delaney screamed.
2
The sound didn’t want to end, the ongoing shout pulled from her lungs while fear filled Delaney from head to toe. The rustle of wings, the heavy thud as they flapped and fought against the air, resonated in her mind. Roars vibrated along her bones, sending shudders of terror through every inch of her body. Adrenaline flooded her veins, blood pumping faster and faster as more panic enveloped her very soul.
Then the visions…
Blood. Pain. Death.
Then falling, blood falling from the sky like rain, pain receding as darkness drew closer, the rush of water and then… acceptance.
Strong hands gripped her biceps, holding her steady when she would have fought for freedom. She struggled against the grasp, jerking and twisting, fighting to get away from her captor.
Air wheezed from her lungs, the last remnants of oxygen spent while her scream died off. She opened her eyes, parting her lids with a whip-fast snap, and met another’s stare.
She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t been flapping wings or fighting in the air. She hadn’t been coated in blood and then fell to her death in the sea.
Delaney shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the persistent cobwebs that clouded her thoughts. It’d been… a nightmare. That’s all. It’d been nothing more than a nightmare.
She sought through her memories, trying to figure out how she’d ended up wherever the hell she was. She’d gone to PCST—Preor Choosing Station Tau—with the hope of finding a Preor mate. There had been check-in and some conversation with the other women present as well as the Preor warrior manning the station. It’d been fairly quick and then they were all shown the door, appointment cards in hand. She’d stepped out of the building, stared across the expanse of concrete that separated PCST from the beach and met one man’s gaze.
No, wait, he’d had wings.
She met one Preor’s gaze.
That was the last she recalled before the violent dreams took over. Then she’d entered hell, wrapped in its deadly embrace until that very moment.
