Jarek(Dragons of Preor Book 1)(6)By: Celia Kyle & Erin Tate
He was dressed much like the other Preors on the ship, his lower half covered by pants resembling something like leather while he wore a crisscross of straps across his bare chest. Insignia on one three-inch wide strap spoke of his rank while the other held proof of his honors—if any. His wings rustled, a quick twitch that snatched her attention to the upper bend peeking over his shoulder. She allowed her attention to drift to his face and she was caught by the darkness in his gaze, the heat and something more lurking in his eyes. She was captured by his stare, unable to tear her attention from him had she tried.
She didn’t want to try.
Her heartbeat picked up a rapid pace, nearly bursting from her chest as she stared at this man, the Preor, the dragon shifter. Fans of paranormal novels called them weredragons. Weredragons, not aliens. Just as the Ujal were mermaids and mermen to some humans.
The newcomer’s eyes flashed yellow, irises changing to a reptile’s narrow slits before returning to a rounded shape. For some reason a spear of arousal teased her and her nipples pebbled within the layers of her clothing. The cotton bra, which she usually found soft, scraped the hardened nubs and she fought the urge to rip it from her body. Not here. Not now.
She had so many ideas for later.
Melissa licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry as she thought of every way she’d touch herself while thinking of this man. Delicious…
Then he spoke. His eyes gradually turned yellow, the reptilian eye slits firmly settling into place before he opened his mouth. “Kouva…” His voice slid over her, vibrating against her nerves and then sinking into her bones. She pulsed with those two syllables, heartbeat taking on a rhythm matching its cadence. “Kouva.” He said it more firmly and on the heels of that word came…
Melissa felt a jarring throb in her knees then a sting on her palms and she realized she’d fallen forward to the floor. But those small aches were nothing compared to what assaulted her mind. Flashes, images, burst through her head, her brain attempting to sort the visions into some sort of recognizable order. She saw varying snippets rush past her. Dragons. Preor warriors. Alien words and yet she understood them. She sensed they came from the male, the unknown warrior whose stare weighed on her.
As more and more of those pieces consumed her, a pulsating ache took up residence in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, fighting the pain and battling it back. Just because she knew what caused the discomfort didn’t mean she had to like it.
The Knowing was sometimes a painful process and it was worse depending on the couple’s strength.
A time when the full weight of knowledge of the Preor was gifted to a mated couple so they could better serve the people.
How the hell did she know about the Knowing?
Her mind sought out the answer and it was presented in an instant, her new knowledge ready to respond to her every question.
How did she know of the Knowing?
I’m a Preor mate.
To the male I last laid eyes on.
Melissa lifted her head, not realizing she’d been staring at the floor. She sought out the last Preor she’d spied, the largest of any she’d met. He was in much the same state as her, collapsed forward on his hands and knees, his yellowed eyes intent on hers and dark green wings half-spread and curled around himself.
“Shaa kouvi,” she whispered the words, unable to keep the claim in even if she didn’t truly trust them. The words were foreign yet she understood them. My beloved.
He breathed deeply and she found herself doing the same, hers matching his with ease. As her heart calmed, she slowly became aware of the room, of the sights and sounds surrounding them. Growls and shouts hit her ears first, the voices overlaying each other until they simply became a rolling mass of deep voices. A high-pitched shout mingled in amongst the men, but the cries of one youngling snapped Melissa into action.
She snatched her attention from the Preor and sought Reesa, easily spying her struggling and attempting to fight free of Rhal. The Ujal warrior did an admirable job of holding the girl, but even the strongest, most diligently trained man had no hope against a squirming, determined child. Melissa slowly rose from her knees, carefully putting her weight on her legs. Then she held out her arms, opening them for Theresa. The girl ripped herself from Rhal with a shout and fell to the padded ground. The toddler quickly regained her feet, arms outstretched, and Melissa reached for her.