Chapter 6
Ransom’s clan house, the next morn
Ellard sprawled in a feline-size gel-chair, the black synfabric and padding fitting to his back with perfect comfort.
He studied the view of the profusion of bright flowers in the garden and endless forest from his chamber window and sipped from a white cup of hot tay—the fragrant green liquid refreshing in the dawn heat.
A knock sounded on his chamber door, and Ellard’s cup hovered in midair before he set it on a float table.
When the knock repeated, he stood and grabbed a pair of trews.
“I’m coming,” he shouted.
With his trews in place, he strode to answer the summons.
Gweneth stood on the other side, fully dressed in black trews and a pale gray tunic. “I know it’s early, but I came to tell you I’m going to town to speak with several market holders. Ransom said he’d go with me.”
“I’ll come too.” Ellard turned away from his door, and Gweneth entered and shut it behind her.
“There was something else,” she said.
He turned at the strange note in her voice, and his feline stretched beneath his skin, wide awake and eager to sidle closer and bask in her scent. This morn, she’d chosen to leave the cat tattoo on her cheek uncovered, and seeing it gave him pleasure, not that he stopped to analyze the sentiment.
Instead, he remained rooted to the spot.
He didn’t trust his instincts or his feline with the opposite sex.
They’d played him false in the past—the last time directly responsible for the loss of his arm.
Now that he had a Stores, the young feline women still whispered and stared.
He had no need of a mate. He had friends, lots of friends.
He could have a happy life without a mate.
“Ellard.”
He blinked and found Gweneth so close to him that he retreated before pride bade him to take a stand.
Something shifted in her face, her impassive expression slipping. Pain? No. He blinked again to stir his sluggish brain.
“I can go on my own to the market. I’ll be perfectly safe with Ransom. Why don’t you stay here and relax? Send a report to Lynx and Shiloh.”
Ellard considered the matter. Splitting their tasks made sense. “Sable offered to show me around the area. We are going to do our strength training together.”
Gweneth’s face went blank. A pause. “That’s good. I like Sable.”
Ellard nodded and walked to the door to escort her from his room. When she didn’t follow, he turned in puzzlement.
“Wait.” Gweneth approached him, almost stomping as she crossed the distance between them.
His feline pricked its ears, alert and happy at her presence. Stupid creature.
Ellard willed his body not to react, willed his feline to behave. “Yes?”
“You owe me a kiss.” And she boldly walked up to him, wound her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.
Ellard froze, yet every one of his senses leaped to hyperalert. And his feline—he gave a happy sigh and purred. Traitorous creature.
Gweneth pulled back to scowl. “I thought we’d discussed this and decided on a proper kiss. Not this half-arse attempt of yours.”
Ellard felt his mouth gaping and snapped it shut. “Half-arse?”
“Earth term,” she snapped. “Give me my kiss, and I’ll leave.”
This woman… He shook his head, unsure of how to deal with her. She didn’t behave in the same manner as other feline women. He considered Keira, Camryn, and his new sister by mating, Jannike. Not true. Gweneth emulated those three. Determined and independent and maddening.
A challenge.
“I’m waiting.” She had the cheek to start tapping her foot.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Fine,” Ellard snapped and grasped her by the shoulders. Although an impulse simmered within to give her a brief peck and send her packing, he knew better. He drew her against his chest.
Her green eyes still glinted with irritation, so he closed his, not wanting to see her accusation or any other flashes of emotion. And especially her feline. The female might be unable to shift, but he saw her feline during and after their skirmishes.
Soft lips greeted his. Warm lips. Eager lips.
They shaped and molded to his, opening to encourage him to deepen their kiss into more intimate territory. He hesitated even as his feline part urged him onward.
The prick of her fingernails pushed him, and with a groan, he stroked his tongue across hers. Rough and a touch abrasive. Feline in nature. His feline purred through his mind, happy and at ease.
Ellard stroked his hand down her back and fell into the kiss, the piquant taste of her—rich with berries and a hint of minty freshness—the feel of her strong body within his embrace, the fit of her curves against his hardness. Her feline-tinged scent.
The contact with Gweneth flooded his body with emotions he hadn’t experienced for many, many cycles. Happiness. Contentment.
He pulled back without haste and opened his eyes to glance down at her. He thought he saw pleasure in her pretty green eyes, definitely satisfaction.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching up to caress his cheek.
His eyes slid closed again without volition. Her touch. Something about her caress lowered his inhibitions, made him vulnerable.
“You are very good at kissing once you put your heart in it. I can’t wait until the next cycle.”
She pulled away, and Ellard let his arms fall to his sides.
“I will see you after my market visit. You can call me if you have any messages to pass on from Lynx.”
Before he could reply or even attempt to regather his wits, she slipped from his chamber, leaving behind confusion and turmoil.
Ellard sighed and wandered off to the sanitizer room. Maybe a cold wash in the sanitizer would aid his sluggish mind.
After claiming her kiss, Gweneth shared a morn meal with Ransom, Gryffnn, and his son. “I’m interested in visiting the market. Last cycle was so productive, and I found every shop owner enthusiastic about taking a stall at the festival.”
“We haven’t had a chance to show off our talents before,” Gryffnn said.
“We need to expand,” Ransom said. “It’s no longer sensible to remain isolated. I see many positives about this festival. It will give us a chance to meet our neighbors in a neutral setting for one.”
Gweneth helped herself to another portion of local berries.
Bright red and tart in flavor, they tickled her taste buds.
Delicious. “I’m so glad. We are offering each planet ten stalls.
It will be up to you which retailers take part or you can send a selection from each one and share the space. If it were me choosing—”
Niran popped into view, worry broadcasting clearly on his countenance. “My nephew and his friend are still missing. None of us can sense their presence. We’ve searched everywhere we can think of but to no avail.”
Ransom pushed aside his half-eaten meal and stood. “Could they have left the planet?”
“No.” Niran began to pace, rising off the floor and pacing air in his agitation.
“We would have noticed if they drew enough power to fashion a craft or transport their essence from here to another planet. They wouldn’t leave because it is dangerous.
They understand they cannot survive without sexual energy.
Sheera and Leeam applied to be part of the next split-off group.
I doubt they’d risk their good status to run away.
I’ve come to ask for help. None of us can leave here for extended periods at present.
We’ve been searching all blacklight and must imbibe energy and refuel.
Could you arrange for volunteers to help us search? ”
“Of course, my friend,” Ransom said. “I’ll organize the guards to begin a sector search and fly over.”
“If you provide us with transportation, Ellard and I will help,” Gweneth offered.
“No, you intended to visit the market,” Niran said.
Gweneth stood and strode to Niran, where he hovered in the air. “The festival is not as important as finding your missing people.”
Niran sighed. “Sheera and Leeam are your age, a young couple who wish to bind. They are good. Responsible. This behavior is most uncharacteristic.”
“Ellard and I would be happy to help.”
“Thank you, Gweneth. I will provide a vehicle for your use.” He glanced at Ransom.
“Perhaps they could search near the mountains. Both Sheera and Leeam have visited the area with a gathering group. If Ellard and Gweneth comb that region, it would make our search thorough and keep everyone else away from danger.”
Gweneth frowned at his response. “What danger?”
“The mountain range where we get the stones from to make our jewelry emits resonance,” Ransom said. “It is dangerous to dragon shifters and too much can send us mad. Too much glittery.”
“But how can you make jewelry if the stone is dangerous to you and your people?”
“It’s the mountain ranges that are the problem. Too much rock in one area. The small stones we work with can make our younger dragons go a bit silly but eventually develop immunity. The mountain ranges, however…” He shrugged. “Not possible. Even the older dragons can’t fly over the region.”
“Will Ellard and I be safe? We want to live to attend the festival.”
“My people suffer no ill effects. I think you will be safe,” Niran said.
Ransom scowled. “We fall out of the sky if we get too close. It’s not dignified for a dragon to fall on his arse.”
A chuckle burst from Gweneth, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. When he didn’t get huffy, she uncovered her smirk. “And the glittery?”
Ransom shrugged this time, the beginnings of a smile twitching at his sensual lips.
“Dragons love jewels. We possess a natural gift to find valuable stones, and that can be…distracting,” he ended with a rueful shrug.
“Older dragons find the lure easier to resist, but the younger shifters do not have the same ability to resist the glittery. Niran, I’ll set the younger dragons to search the grids closer to the town.
Don’t worry, friend. We will find your people. ”