by Celia Kyle
Zadri spun and kicked out. “You’re getting loud, Kozav. Tired?”
Kozav ducked, body folding backward while Zadri’s hit did not connect. “Only giving you an opportunity to succeed in remaining without injury. You have a pretty female to impress.”
Zadri growled and glared at the warrior, curling his lip while one of his dragon’s fangs slowly descended. He did not want another male—mated or not—describing Delaney as pretty. She was for his eyes only. Her smiles were for him. Her laughs were for him. Her tears were his to wipe away and her cries of passion were his to hear.
He lunged, whipping his war blades through the air, hands tightening around the worn hilts. Kozav blocked each one, deflecting his attempts to cause injury, and that simply angered Zadri even more.
A heavy thud vibrated through the floor, coming from behind him and to his left. Taulan wished to join the battle, then. Good. He would welcome the challenge of battling with the war master.
He gave Kozav a hard shove and then flapped his wings, moving out of the warrior’s reach when he would have returned Zadri’s attack. He flipped up and to the right, landing on his toes ten feet from Taulan.
“Reckless, War Master. Perhaps you should be the one challenged today.” Zadri grinned, enjoying the ability to tease and taunt the war master. Outside the sparring ring, he had to respect rank. Within the circle, they were merely warriors furthering their training.
“Cocky, hatchling.” Taulan grinned. “You do not know when that ikpor wing of yours will fail you.”
Ikpor. Worthless.
The word summoned memories and feelings he did not wish to address, ones he never wished to experience again until he took his final flight. Ikpor wing.
The reason he’d become a child of Syh. Why his dam and sire had cast him from his birth aerie and into the skies. It’d been up to Syh if he thrived or died.
Syh had taken pity on him so long ago. The skies had given him a life and a wing that’d been saved by some of the finest healing masters known to Preor. His wing hadn’t troubled him in centuries, but the old taunts still struck deep into his soul.
With a snarl, he rushed at Taulan, allowing his anger and the past to overtake good sense. The battle became fierce in an instant, blades colliding and sparks flying as they met each other’s blows. Adrenaline flooded his veins, bloodlust rising high as he countered the male’s attacks.
A flicker of pink at the edge of his vision told him of another attack, Rendan joining the duo. Then Kozav was there as well, all three attempting to subdue him.
He would not—could not—be conquered. Not when his fury rose higher and higher with each breath.
Kick. Punch. Slice. Smack. The flat of his blade slapped Taulan in the face and Zadri continued bringing his sword around in an arch, sharp edge slamming against Rendan’s weapon. He lifted his other blade high, blocking Kozav’s downward blow before it could connect with Zadri’s back. A small change in position and he shoved them both away so he could reposition himself as the males regained their balance.
Now he faced all three, each one grinning widely, and Zadri waited for the next round of assaults.
They attacked as one, separating and assaulting him in a triangle formation. Had they not yet learned a new method of approach? It’d already failed more than once. Perhaps they needed to hone their battle skills.
He flipped his sword, changing his grip on its hilt to make it easier to punch Rendan. Then he brought his hand around and cut across Taulan’s stomach, the coppery scent of his blood now filling the air. Zadri blocked Kozav with his other blade and a quick twist of his wrist wrenched it from the male’s grip. The weapon spun through the air, slamming into the gray metal wall and then falling to the ground with a clang.
Zadri was now glad he studied human fighting techniques though he still did not understand all that occurred between sword fights in The Princess Bride.
Perhaps he would watch it with Delaney and she could explain it to him. Perhaps she could also be nude and bared to his gaze at the time. Perhaps—
Zadri dodged the blade aimed at his head, a few strands of hair fluttering to the ground after being cut by the sword.
Perhaps he should focus on the battle.
He danced out of reach, wings slightly spread for balance, hands still gripping his swords tightly while his body remained loose and ready for action. “A killing blow, Offense Master? Do you wish to search or a Defense Master again so soon?”
The words were teasing, but they all recalled what’d happened so recently, the pain and loss they’d suffered as well as the life Zadri had taken. He cursed himself for the joke, the events still too close to the surface for teasing. Especially considering how gravely they’d affected both Delaney and Rendan’s mate, Carla.
Metal sliced through flesh, a jolt of pain filling him as the blade sank deep into his arm, cutting into muscle with the single swing. The agony pulsed in time with the rapid beat of his heart, thundering through his veins in an ever-increasing pace. The hurt pulled a snarl from his chest and he spun, focusing on the male who’d injured him.
Taulan. The war master’s blade dripped with blood, red liquid falling and staining the ground. Zadri’s dragon roared, pushing against his control and demanding retribution. His skin stretched and stung, scales attempting to break free, but he shoved the beast back. They were battling on legs, not claws.
He tightened his grip and more blood flowed from his wound. Now Zadri focused on the male, beast craving Taulan’s blood more and more with each passing second. He did not wish to kill the warrior, but he would not mind injuring him.
Sparks and grunts filled the air, spots of blood flying from his ever-bleeding wound, but he was gratified to see that Taulan suffered his own injuries. With each shift of muscle and swing of sword, more nicks and scratches appeared.
Zadri suffered his own level of damage, but it was inconsequential when compared to his dragon’s need for blood. The beast wanted to work out its frustration on Taulan, its discomfort over not binding Delaney to them the night before.
“You should concede before I ruin your pretty face, Taulan,” Zadri grunted and swung once more.
“To a bezor such as you? Never.” Taulan bared his fangs, muscles bunched as if he prepared to attack, but the ship cut through the battle.
“Defense Master Zadri joi Delaney Cole to medical.”
The same order had been repeated more than once during their morning training. Whelon seemed determined to test his blood. In truth, Zadri avoided medical for one reason only—he did not want to give Whelon the opportunity to explain that Delaney wasn’t truly his. That he would not be able to take—and keep—her as his mate.
If he did not hear the truth, it did not exist, correct?
Zadri’s opponents relaxed, stepping back and out of the sparring ring, ending their session. For now. His blood remained hot and furious, too much energy still pumping through his body. He was not prepared to relent—yet.
“I am busy, ship. Inform Whelon I will attend him when I am able.” Zadri gestured at Rendan, encouraging the male to rejoin him.
“Confirmed,” the ship agreed, but before the word finished ringing through the room, Whelon’s voice consumed the space.
“Zadri, get down here. Now. You—“
“I am not prepared for my genetic material to be taken, Whelon. I will—“
“You mate is injured. Grievously.”
The words echoed in his mind, one refusing to be brushed aside while he sprinted for the door. Grievously. His mate was hurt and in pain. In pain while she was bearing, and he did not know what that would do to his dragonlet.
Zadri hit the hallway at a run, boots pounding on the metal grate while he traversed the corridors. The others followed, but he did not have any thoughts to spare for them. Not when he focused on throwing others out of his path. He shoved aside Tyff and Vende, pushing Choler back into his office. With each step, his dragon pushed even harder against him. His finger
s stung with the emergence of his claws, gums burning with the arrival of his fangs and skin stinging as his scales pushed to the surface.
Then he bolted past Luzan as the male exited medical, his face pale and consumed by strong emotions. Shock. Fear. Panic.
Zadri slid to a stop in the middle of medical, his dragon nearly bursting through his skin. He sought his mate in the small space, searching out the only one who could calm the feral beast.
And he found her—laying on a platform, ryaapir unit humming steadily while it scanned her body.
Her pale, unmoving body. Humans adopted that skin tone when frightened or when… when they lost great amounts of blood.
Such as the blood lining the floor. Blood that created a smudged path from the entrance to medical and across the room to that very ryaapir unit. He opened his mouth and tasted the air, hoping Delaney wasn’t the source of the red liquid. But it was a useless hope. It was his mate’s blood coating the ground and the closer he drew to her, the more of it he saw.
Soaked into her clothing, the xina—strong silk-like material—turned red.
So much. So very, very much.
Zadri lifted his arms, hands trembling while he reached for Delaney, only to freeze before their skin touched.
“Whelon?” he rasped and shot a questioning glance at the male.
“You may touch her.” The healing master sounded so tired. “Her primary injuries are to the dragonlet. All other defects on her body can be attributed to the fall.”
Zadri cupped her cheek, fighting the rage that grew in his belly—rage at himself for not being at her side. “Fall? The dragonlet?”
Whelon sighed and rolled his shoulders before standing straight once more. “Luzan was accompanying her to your quarters when she fell in one of the corridors.”
Which explained the male’s appearance. For a female to be injured when in a warrior’s company… He was not sure how the male would handle the guilt. Luzan would have to seek out the assistance of a heart master to deal with his overwhelming emotions.
“What is her status?” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, hating the coolness of her skin.
“There was a small tear that bled freely before the ryaapir unit could heal the wound. The dragonlet was under some distress and I am concerned it was deprived of its connection to Delaney for a time. I will not be sure until she presents.”
Their dragonlet under distress. He could not fathom the idea. That a fall could do such to unborn offspring. “What are the possibilities?”
He wanted know so he could prepare his arguments. He would not allow Delaney to give their dragonlet to Syh as his had done. He would force her hand if necessary. The dragonlet would always find a home in their aerie. A damaged dragonlet was worthy of the same amount of love and caring as one that held imperfections.
Zadri would make her see.
Whelon paused a moment and then began, “Human records indicate…”
8
Delaney recognized her location before she opened her eyes. She didn’t have to peel back her eyelids to know the scent of medical or the soft whirring of machinery that monitored a patient’s health.
She kept her eyes closed and slightly shifted position, testing muscles and bone to see if she could figure out why she’d ended up under a healer’s care—again. She also dug through her memories, hunting for a reason behind any injury she had. There was some tenderness in her left hip and her palms pulsed with small hints of pain. Her knee, perhaps? And her… her baby.
She’d fallen, cried out, and then… there’d been the blood.
So much blood.
She lifted her hands, stroking the roundness of her stomach, searching for evidence that her baby was well. A gentle stroke, her child shifting position inside her, made her release a soft, relieved sigh. Her baby was still there. He was still whole and healthy inside her—still alive.
A barely there touch fluttered over her temple followed by low, murmured words. “All is well, Delaney. Be at ease.”
She forced her eyes open and turned her head, meeting Zadri’s worried stare. Not just worried, though. More like worried with a hint of pure panic.
“What,” she rasped and licked her lips, swallowing hard to soothe her dry mouth. “What happened?”
His eyes turned hard like steel and filled with a hardly banked fury. “Luzan failed you. You fell.”
The baby shifted position, the movement stretching and pushing against her stomach. She sucked in a quick, harsh breath, and held it for a moment while she waited for the flourishing ache to subside. It coursed through her for one beat, then two, and finally… Finally, it eased back on three. She rubbed her hand over her belly in small, soothing circles.
“He didn’t fail me.” The baby shifted again. “Pregnant women are clumsy. Our center of gravity is different. Things happen.”
Yes, they did, but that didn’t mean the pain was any less.
“He should have been at your side.” Zadri curled his lip, wings twitching.
“You growled at one of the warriors on the shuttle for staring at my stomach.” She gave him a small smile, fighting for a teasing curl of her lips while she fought aches and pains. “He was probably afraid of getting too close.”
Zadri grunted. “He should have risked my anger for the betterment of a female. Nothing matters more than a female, not even a male’s own health.”
Delaney rolled her eyes and pretended an annoyed exasperation she didn’t feel. Mainly because her only feelings at that moment were ones of a persistent ache. “I’m fine,” she whispered the words and reached out for him, grasping his fingers and giving him a gentle squeeze. “Aren’t I?”
Delaney couldn’t help the hint of worry that filled her tone. One that drew a focused, intent stare from Zadri.
“Does your body feel this, ‘fine’?” His gaze scanned her head to toe, eyes lingering on her pregnant belly before moving on.
“I ache a little.” In some places more than a little, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. Not when he still looked ready to do battle.
He grunted but said no more, and she was beginning to recognize the reason behind that response. Just as human men never wanted to acknowledge anything bad or negative, neither did the Preor.
“What happened? Tell me.” She left no room for argument and simply waited for him to respond. And she would wait as long as it took.
Delaney was the only child of two dismissive, uncaring parents. She had the market cornered on out-stubborning anyone.
Zadri didn’t answer her question and, instead, took a step away from her. “I shall notify your parents you have awakened.”
The mention of her parents tore her focus from her injuries and entirely onto his words. “My parents?” Her stomach rebelled, angry and churning at the mention of the ones her brought her into the world. “What do you mean?”
Zadri shrugged. “It was only right to notify your dam and sire of your injuries. They expressed worry over your condition and our dragonlet. They requested they be notified of any changes so they might travel to the ship. I vowed to notify—“
“No.” Just no. God no. Hell, to the skies no.
He jerked back, eyebrows lowering to a frown. “But I vowed—“
“I don’t want them contacted.” They didn’t deserve to know anything about her. Not after what they’d done—tried to do.
“Delaney—“
She shook her head, hands going to the soft surface of the platform so she could push herself upright. He needed to understand what she was saying. She needed to look him in the eyes and make sure he grasped the strength of her resolve.
“I don’t want them contacted. Ever. I don’t want information about me given to them. Ever. I don’t want them to be told anything about my baby. Ev—“
An alarm beeped, the soft chime pulling her attention from Zadri and to the source of the sound. Then to the male it’d seemed to summon.
Whelon appeared from out of nowhere, the large
, grey male striding into view. He shot a glare at Zadri before rounding the platform and coming to Delaney’s left side. “You must calm, Delaney,” he murmured, hands flying over the display. “The pressure in your blood is rising with your anger.”
Another glare from Whelon to Zadri. One that clearly accused Zadri of being the cause of her raised blood pressure. Sure, he was part of the reason, but the real source was her parents.
“I feel fine.”
“Your body disagrees.” Whelon quirked a single brow and she took a moment to look inward, to see if she truly felt off.
Delaney shook her head. “No, I don’t feel like it’s rising.”
“You are not equipped to monitor yourself as closely as the sareslia.”
Her mind, filled with the Knowing, filled in the blanks. A monitoring device, much like human monitors but infinitely more advanced. It could tell her of problems before she even recognized a hint of discomfort.
“And the sareslia,” he slipped a device that looked similar to a heart-shaped pendant over her head, “cannot tell falsehoods like the ones that currently fall from your lips.” Whelon stared at her, his gaze intent and knowing. “You are not fine.”
Delaney wrinkled her nose, hating that she’d been caught. “Fine-ish?” Whelon grunted. It seemed it wasn’t just a Zadri trait, but an overall Preor trait. “It’s just a little discomfort.”
“Discomfort that could be eased by Whelon before we depart.” Zadri’s deep words were nearly a snarl. Nearly, but not quite. There was still a strong thread of worry in his tone. “And further soothed by the presence of your dam. She has presented before and can reassure—“
Now she felt her blood pressure rising, increasing with every syllable that dripped from his lips. “No.”
It wasn’t happening. Not now and not ever again.
“I have read—“
“Zadri,” it was Whelon’s turn to bust in, silencing her mate with a single snarl. “What a bearing female desires, a bearing female receives. So it has been since the moment the skies gave life.”
Zadri pressed his lips together, wings trembling slightly while a wave of peach overtook his tanned flesh in a gradual ripple. “Correct.”
