Read Online Rendan (Scifi Alien Dragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 4) by Celia Kyle, Erin Tate - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Celia Kyle, Erin Tate
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wings.
Nothing seemed pressing with her brief scan and she let her gaze move to their faces. Two faces she recognized—Rendan and Argan. Both had new cuts and would probably have new scars as a result.
It was easy to see evidence of the causes of those injuries—claw marks, bruised knuckles, and darkened eyes. Fighting. Or training? Did it matter? This was what came from being involved with the military—violence, pain, recovery. Only to have the male get out of bed and do it all over again.
For the good of the country and rush of battle.
She imagined Rendan’s excuse would be similar. For the good of Preor.
Carla stepped forward at the same time as Chashan, but her training surged before the healing master could speak. She wasn’t sure what had her talking, issuing orders to these massive males and demanding they listen. Normally she’d hang back, wait for instructions, and do her best not to step on toes and annoy someone.
But today… Today her mate had gotten hurt. Her mate and a male who’d showed her his vulnerability and kindness when she’d been brought back to Earth.
“Argan to your right, Rendan to your left. Chashan, can you handle Argan while I deal with Rendan?” The healing master whipped his attention to her, objection on his lips. “I have the Knowing and years of training. If I get into any trouble or find something that needs a more experienced hand, I’ll let you know.”
Chashan merely grunted and turned toward the far platform, waving so they’d bring Argan forward.
Carla did the same with Rendan, rushing to the other side of the room and taking up a station at the side. She’d have to do the initial search quick and dirty with a handheld scanner since the ryaapir units required two to operate.
That was something she’d have to talk to Chashan about. It’d be so much easier—and quicker—if they could be at least used to diagnose a patient without needing another person to help. She wondered if the science masters could do something.
“Lay him here.” she distractedly gestured at the platform, hands already moving over the control panel. The Knowing surged, feeding her whatever she needed in order to operate the machine. Her fingers glided over the slick panel, eyes and mind quickly processing the Preor language and translating it to English.
She kept her attention focused on what needed to be done, resisting the urge to meet Rendan’s stare and fawn over him. He needed a healer, not some sobbing girlfriend.
Rendan grunted when he was tossed on the platform and she shot a glare at the male who’d brought him in. His wings were the color of rotted seaweed, dark green with hints of yellow, and she half-expected that briny scent to reach her. It didn’t fill her nose, but something did scratch down her spine, like invisible claws scraping her back. Goose bumps rose on her arms, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, and she nearly took an instinctual step back. Nearly. But she stayed in place, their gazes locked for one heartbeat, and then two.
“How was he hurt?” She tore her eyes away and lifted the handheld scanner, passing it over his body about three inches from his flesh. The platform recorded the results, displaying images of his internal organs while she hunted for damage.
“In the Trials of Syh with Argan.”
The Trials of Syh? She didn’t voice the question aloud, but the Knowing supplied the answer whether she wanted it or not.
A battle between two warriors to determine the position of—
Carla shoved the Knowing away. Battle. Warriors. Position. Three words she didn’t want strung together in a sentence. Military posturing and senseless violence.
At least she knew what she was searching for—evidence of injuries typically suffered in a fight between two males.
“As a dragon or as a hu— on two legs?” She’d almost said as a human, but the wings beneath Rendan proved his lack of humanity.
The stranger grunted and sneered at her.
Nothing seemed pressing with her brief scan and she let her gaze move to their faces. Two faces she recognized—Rendan and Argan. Both had new cuts and would probably have new scars as a result.
It was easy to see evidence of the causes of those injuries—claw marks, bruised knuckles, and darkened eyes. Fighting. Or training? Did it matter? This was what came from being involved with the military—violence, pain, recovery. Only to have the male get out of bed and do it all over again.
For the good of the country and rush of battle.
She imagined Rendan’s excuse would be similar. For the good of Preor.
Carla stepped forward at the same time as Chashan, but her training surged before the healing master could speak. She wasn’t sure what had her talking, issuing orders to these massive males and demanding they listen. Normally she’d hang back, wait for instructions, and do her best not to step on toes and annoy someone.
But today… Today her mate had gotten hurt. Her mate and a male who’d showed her his vulnerability and kindness when she’d been brought back to Earth.
“Argan to your right, Rendan to your left. Chashan, can you handle Argan while I deal with Rendan?” The healing master whipped his attention to her, objection on his lips. “I have the Knowing and years of training. If I get into any trouble or find something that needs a more experienced hand, I’ll let you know.”
Chashan merely grunted and turned toward the far platform, waving so they’d bring Argan forward.
Carla did the same with Rendan, rushing to the other side of the room and taking up a station at the side. She’d have to do the initial search quick and dirty with a handheld scanner since the ryaapir units required two to operate.
That was something she’d have to talk to Chashan about. It’d be so much easier—and quicker—if they could be at least used to diagnose a patient without needing another person to help. She wondered if the science masters could do something.
“Lay him here.” she distractedly gestured at the platform, hands already moving over the control panel. The Knowing surged, feeding her whatever she needed in order to operate the machine. Her fingers glided over the slick panel, eyes and mind quickly processing the Preor language and translating it to English.
She kept her attention focused on what needed to be done, resisting the urge to meet Rendan’s stare and fawn over him. He needed a healer, not some sobbing girlfriend.
Rendan grunted when he was tossed on the platform and she shot a glare at the male who’d brought him in. His wings were the color of rotted seaweed, dark green with hints of yellow, and she half-expected that briny scent to reach her. It didn’t fill her nose, but something did scratch down her spine, like invisible claws scraping her back. Goose bumps rose on her arms, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, and she nearly took an instinctual step back. Nearly. But she stayed in place, their gazes locked for one heartbeat, and then two.
“How was he hurt?” She tore her eyes away and lifted the handheld scanner, passing it over his body about three inches from his flesh. The platform recorded the results, displaying images of his internal organs while she hunted for damage.
“In the Trials of Syh with Argan.”
The Trials of Syh? She didn’t voice the question aloud, but the Knowing supplied the answer whether she wanted it or not.
A battle between two warriors to determine the position of—
Carla shoved the Knowing away. Battle. Warriors. Position. Three words she didn’t want strung together in a sentence. Military posturing and senseless violence.
At least she knew what she was searching for—evidence of injuries typically suffered in a fight between two males.
“As a dragon or as a hu— on two legs?” She’d almost said as a human, but the wings beneath Rendan proved his lack of humanity.
The stranger grunted and sneered at her.
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