Covered from head to toe in light gray scales, thick ropes of corded muscle define his arms and legs. A long, whip-like tail curls behind him. Dark gray leathery wings spread out behind him. With broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, I can’t see an ounce of fat on him. Sharp, black claws tip his five-fingered hands and toes. He has long, silken white hair that goes just past his shoulders. With a proud jaw, full lips, and aristocratic features, he looks like a marble sculpture of masculine perfection laced with a hint of lethal grace.
My jaw drops when I don’t see the normal male anatomy below his waist. Instead, a long slit splits the scales of his crotch. I tear my gaze away from his form and meet his ice-blue eyes with all the confidence I can muster as he moves toward me.
Spreading my feet in a defensive stance, I raise my fists, readying to fight.
Dark blood drips down his side, pooling beside his left foot. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now that I have, the memory of John shooting him with the blaster rushes through my mind.
He grips my forearm. Before I can hit his hand away, he speaks, “I must get you to the Healer and make sure you’re all right.”
I’m so thrown off-guard by his words that I nearly stumble back. Instead, I meet his concerned eyes. “Me?” I ask incredulously. “You’re the one bleeding.”
“My injuries can wait,” he says. “Yours are more important.”
Chapter 4
Raidyn
My hearts clench as I stare down at my mate. She is strange in appearance, but beautiful nonetheless. How many times have I dreamed of finding my fated one? I can hardly believe she is standing before me. My gaze darts briefly to the castle behind her. I cannot wait to show her around our home.
She is smaller than a Drakarian female and lacks any sort of natural defenses from what I can see. With blunt claws, flat white teeth, smooth pale flesh instead of scales, she appears defenseless indeed. My protective instincts flare brightly as I look at her. And I want nothing more than to tug her to my side and fold my wing around her form, holding her close and keeping her safe from any and all danger.
Her blue eyes burn with fire. She may be smaller than the females of my species, but she is fierce and brave. When she struck me earlier, my chest swelled with pride. She does not seem to fear me anymore.
This is good. I will prove to her that I am a worthy mate.
Her gaze travels up and down my form appraisingly, lingering on the slit of my mating pouch. Perhaps she is already eager to claim me. But even as I think this, her eyes snap up to meet mine, traveling across my face and pausing at my scar. Does she find me appealing or hideous like most females of my race because of this disfigurement?
Flaring my nostrils, I scent the air. The acrid fear that covered her when I first rescued her from the offensive male in the desert has disappeared. Instead, I detect a delicate fragrance, unique and entirely hers.
I extend my wings to my side so that she may continue to appraise me, hoping she’ll find me worthy to be her mate. The movement causes sharp pain to shoot through my side, but I force myself to remain still. I dare not show weakness to her. No female wants a male who is not strong enough to protect her and her fledglings.
I grit my teeth against the pain, reminding myself that my injury will eventually heal, whereas I might never recover from her rejection.
I move toward her, but she steps away, backing into the glass wall at the entrance of the palace. I place my palms on the glass on either side of her head and lean in, skimming the tip of my nose from her temple to her jaw and the curve of her neck. Gently rubbing my horns against her head, I inhale deeply of her rich and intoxicating scent.
She quivers slightly and I pull back, dismayed when her scent turns sour with fear. “What is wrong? I saved you. Why are you still afraid?”
She stares up at me silently, clenching her jaw. A tear slips down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away as she holds my gaze.
When I reach out to cup her face, she jerks away.
“What is wrong?” I repeat.
She frowns. “Why can’t I understand you?”
I blink, then grip her chin firmly in one hand to hold her still as I feel behind her ears, checking to see if her translator chip has been damaged. When I do not find one, I regard her curiously.
“You have lost your translator chip, but do not worry. I will make sure the Healer fits you with one, my mate. I will take care of you and protect you. My vow.”
Chapter 5
Skye
“Why can I suddenly understand you?”
An irresistibly handsome smile curves his mouth. “This is how my people communicate with our fated mates—through touch.” He pauses to take my hand. His scales are soft as silk and warm against my skin as he gently traces his thumb across my knuckles. “And since you lack a translator chip, this is the only way for you to understand me. In my draka form, I can hear your thoughts, as well.”
“Your…draka form?”
“My larger form when I shift. The one that I carried you in.”
I’m too stunned to pull away. My mind still struggling to process that he can shift forms into a real-life dragon.
He stares down at me in concern. “You need not fear me. I would sooner end my own life than hurt you. My vow.”
“I…” I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. I want to believe him, but I have to ask.
