Paul's Pursuit: Dragon Lords of Valdier Book 6 Page 3

  Morian was thankful her sons would not face this issue any longer. Now, they just needed to learn to understand and accept their mates for the independent, strong-willed women that they were.

  Personally, Morian appreciated their free will. She had often gotten in trouble for her own wayward behavior. Jalo had tolerated it but as a young girl, she had often been disciplined for doing things a female was not supposed to do. She was fortunate as a priestess to the Hive and the Queen Mother to the Dragon Lords she was given more freedom than other women on Valdier. Most women were closely guarded by their mates and not allowed to travel freely in the way she did now that she was unmated.

  “Morian,” Abby’s voice called out from the door of the Atrium.

  Morian smiled as she thought of her beautiful, quiet new daughter. Abby was her oldest son Zoran’s true mate. Her gentle touch and quiet manner hid a strength that had already proven she was no delicate flower to be hidden away. The sound of a baby’s laugh had Morian washing her hands anxiously. Abby had recently given birth to a baby boy. Her first great child. Cara, Trelon’s mate, had delivered twin babies shortly after Abby. They were the first girls born to the royal house in centuries and were already proving they were going to be a replica of their mother. They were just a few months old and already turning over and trying to scoot.

  “Abby,” Morian called out in delight, holding her arms out for her new great son who screeched with joy when he saw her. “How is my wonderful baby boy?” Morian cooed softly.

  “Oh, he is doing great,” Abby said with a tired sigh. “I am not so sure about your oldest son though. He is about to drive me up the wall!”

  Morian’s chuckle filled the atrium and drew another gurgle of laughter out of Zohar. “What has he done now?”

  Abby moved over to sit down on the bench near the center fountain. She pushed her heavy length of dark brown hair back and relaxed. A smile playing on her lips as she watched her son try to pull some of Morian’s hair free from the twist she kept it in. That was why her hair was down. Zohar screamed whenever she put it up and he couldn’t grab it. Zoran had insisted it remain free so his son could touch it whenever he pleased.

  “He won’t let me put my hair up for one thing. If I try, he takes it down because he says Zohar doesn’t like it up. I think he is just as bad. I threatened to cut it off once but he….” Abby blushed as she remembered what Zoran had threatened to do to her if she even thought of cutting her hair.

  Morian’s eyes glittered with humor as she looked over at Abby. “His father was the same way. I was going to cut my hair once. I even had the shears in my hand when he came in and caught me,” Morian chuckled as her own face turned a rosy color. “He kept me tied to the bed for three days.”

  “Three days?” Abby gasped in disbelief. “What did you do?”

  “I enjoyed it so much I threatened to cut my hair at least once a month after that until….” Morian’s voice faded as her eyes grew sad. “Until he was murdered.”

  Abby stood up and walked over to where Morian was sitting on the edge of the fountain with Zohar. “I’m so sorry, Morian,” Abby said, placing her hand on Morian’s shoulder.

  Morian looked up and shook her head. “It has been many years but I still miss him. He was a good mate. I miss the way we used to just talk,” she admitted softly. With another shake of her head, she smiled. “So, how were you able to sneak out without Zoran knowing?”

  “She didn’t,” a deep voice growled out from the shadowed path leading up to the fountain.

  Abby rolled her eyes and sat down next to Morian. “Hi sweetheart.”

  “Don’t you ‘Hi sweetheart’ me,” he growled out as he walked up to her. “I thought I told you to stay in our rooms. You need to rest. Zohar woke you a half dozen times last night,” he said pulling Abby to her feet and into his arms.

  Abby relaxed against Zoran’s chest, enjoying his warm skin against her cheek. “He wasn’t the only one,” she muttered darkly.

  This time it was Zoran who turned a little red. “Yes well, you smelled extremely sweet,” he whispered flickering a glance at his mother who raised her eyebrow at him. “Well, she did. The milk she produces for Zohar is.....,” he started to add defensively.

  Abby groaned cutting him off as she hid her hot face in his chest. “That is more information than your mother needed to know,” she groaned out.

  “Yes, it is,” Morian chuckled. “But like I said before, he is like his father.”

  Zoran’s mouth dropped open before snapping shut and he shook his head. “That’s it. Time to go back to our rooms. Come here, little warrior. Let’s go put you down for a nap. I think your Dola needs a nap as well.”

  Morian chuckled when Zohar glared mutinously at his father before scrunching his face up and letting out a loud wail when Zoran carefully untangled his little fingers from the hair he had pulled loose. Zoran grimaced at the high pitched cry and looked at Abby, desperation clearly written on his face. Abby raised her eyebrow and shook her head as she reached out and scooped Zohar back into her arms. The minute his little fingers wrapped around her long, dark strands he gave a little hiccup and quieted down, a soft sigh escaping him as he buried his face in her neck.

  “This is why you must never cut your hair,” Zoran said stubbornly. “I do not like it when he cries. It hurts my ears.”

  Morian chuckled as she listened to Abby and Zoran walk away arguing about how Zohar needed to learn he could not always have his way just to keep him from crying. She remembered having the same arguments with Jalo. She hoped Abby had more luck than she did. Jalo loved his sons and she knew they got into more mischief than they should have because they had him wrapped around their fingers.

  She turned on the cool stone seat and gazed out over the atrium that was her sanctuary. She dipped her fingers into the clear water of the center tranquility pool, swirling the water around absently as the silence grew to the point that instead of being comforting, it was almost suffocating her. She let her eyes drop down to gaze at the ripples she had made in the water. She couldn't help but think her life was like the rippling water.

  “What is wrong with me?” She whispered to herself. “Why do I feel so restless? Why do I feel this growing hunger inside me?”

  She turned her head when she heard the sound of leaves rustling in the thick ferns on the left side of the pool. A huge golden shape emerged from the shadows. Jalo’s symbiot had become her constant companion since his death.

  She had been stunned when it refused to leave her after Jalo’s death to return to the Hive. She had even taken it down to the Hive herself. When Jalo’s symbiot had re-emerged from the river of the Gods, it had immersed her smaller symbiot into its form to become even stronger; both in strength and in binding with the essence of her dragon and her. That was something it hadn’t been able to do before. Since that time, it was seldom more than a few feet from her.

  “What is it?” Morian asked softly, puzzled but the rapidly shimmering colors swirling over its body. “You feel it too, don’t you? As if something is about to happen,” she said looking around again. She closed her eyes, seeking deep inside her for what could cause the feeling.

  Mate, our mate is coming, her dragon stirred for the first time in a long time. I can feel him.

  Morian’s eyes snapped open in shock. She pulled her trembling hand from the water. She didn’t even feel the dampness of the water on her fingers as she pushed back the strand of black hair that Zohar had pulled free.

  A mate, she choked out to her dragon. That is impossible. I have no mate. Jalo is gone.

  Not Jalo, her dragon growled out, raising her head and tilting her head upward toward the clear glass dome. Our true mate comes. He comes to protect us.

  No, Morian said fiercely. No, I won’t let myself care for another male again. I won’t take the chance of losing him. You will listen to me on this! She demanded as she felt the snort of her dragon.

  Morian stomped her feet in frustration when he
r dragon just turned with a grunt and settled down with a contented sigh. The blasted thing was not going to listen to her, she just knew it. The damn thing had gotten her into more trouble than she could count when she was younger. It had settled down a bit when she mated with Jalo and had the boys but she could feel that same sense of expectation which ALWAYS meant trouble.

  “You know I’ve worked hard to behave myself,” she hissed out loud. “Don’t you ignore me, you trouble-making leather winged bandit. The boys have no idea of the mischief I used to get into. I am not about to let them know,” she added defiantly. “You better behave yourself!”

  Her eyes grew huge when she saw the image the golden symbiot sent to her. “Oh for crying out loud! Not you too!” She snapped, tossing her head then cursing under her breath as her dark hair cascaded down her back as the clip holding it up finally broke free from where Zohar had tugged on it. “Argh!” She growled as she bent and snatched up the fallen clip.

  She would show her dragon and Jalo’s symbiot that she was nothing like the young girl she had been. She was mature. She was a priestess for the Hive. She was too old to be someone’s mate! No, she would keep her distance at the first sign of her dragon being interested. She would show any male her dragon looked at that she was above such feelings. She would…. Morian looked down at her trembling hands and closed them into a fist around the colorful, jeweled clip in anguish.

  Please, she begged silently to the Gods. I don’t want to be hurt again.

  Chapter 3

  Paul ran his hand down his face and looked tiredly into the bathroom mirror. He didn’t get home until almost two o’clock this morning. He had a full day of work ahead of him even though he had cancelled all of his survival trainings until further notice. He didn’t need the money. His folks had done well in their investments and he had continued it. He was a multi-millionaire several times over but money had never meant much to him except as a means of providing for him and Trisha.

  At forty-seven, he had just the first hint of gray sprinkled through his dark hair. Most of it had come on over the past six months since his baby girl disappeared. He leaned forward and gripped the edge of the sink with both hands as he fought the fear gnawing at his gut. The muscles along his shoulders rippled as he breathed deeply, trying to calm the fear. His eyes returned to the mirror where they stared with steely determination back at him. He would find her. Someway, somehow he would find his little girl.

  Shoving away from the sink, he grabbed a dark blue long sleeve button up shirt hanging on the back of the door. He quickly slipped it on and tucked it into the waist of his jeans before fastening the dark brown leather belt around his narrow hips. Striding into his bedroom, he pulled his boots on before grabbing his hat off the hook next to the door as he exited the room.

  He ran down the stairs on light feet, jumping when he came to the last three steps. His hand slid into his pocket to pull his truck keys out even as his other hand reached for the doorknob. He was going to drive into town and talk with Annalisa Hollins, one of the deputies there. She had been a detective in Miami before moving to Wyoming. She didn’t tell him what happened there and he didn’t ask but he knew it was enough to scare her which is something he didn’t think happened very often. He knew she was a good person and that was all that mattered to him. She had been a huge help to him over the last few months getting information on the case, especially when the State Police refused to share it at first. In fact, she was the one who had suggested he talk to Edna Grey.

  He pulled open the door and stepped out, not bothering to lock it after him. Samara, a young local girl he had hired a couple of years ago, would be here soon to look after the horses if she wasn’t already. Besides, he lived far enough off the beaten track he didn’t have to worry about thieves. His mind was already running back over the information Edna had given him. He wanted to ask Annalisa if there had been any unusual sightings reported over in Shelby, California about six months ago.

  He jogged down the steps and was just rounding the corner of his truck when he heard a familiar cry. His head snapped up in astonishment. For a moment, he wondered if he was hearing things but even as that thought crossed his mind it was replaced by a surge of overwhelming relief and happiness as his eyes locked on the sound of the sweetest voice he had ever heard.

  “Daddy!” Trisha cried out excitedly.

  Paul’s heart pounded as he saw Trisha breaking out of the small hammock of trees. He watched as she broke into an awkward run. Even from this distance he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. He took first one step then another before he broke into a run. His arms opened wide as Trisha threw herself at him. He pulled her close to his huge body, burying his face in her wild curls as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her in relief.

  “Baby girl,” he whispered softly, trembling with emotion.

  He pulled back far enough so he could stare down into her beautiful tear-filled eyes. Unable to believe she was really here, back in his arms, he hugged her close again. His breath caught in his throat when he felt the tell tale roundness of her stomach. His eyes jerked downward and he drew in a breath of shock before his eyes moved back to hers in concern.

  “What…?” He asked uncertainly.

  Fear threatened to choke him again. He knew what the doctors had said about how dangerous; if not impossible, it would be for Trisha to have children. She didn’t know that he knew. He had made it his business to know everything about her after she had almost been killed.

  The doctors had told him that it wouldn’t be safe for her to have children after the helicopter she was traveling in crashed coming home from a training mission. She had been the only survivor. He had led the search as part of the rescue team because of the remoteness of where the helicopter went down. After they got her out of the mountains, he had sat by her bedside for two weeks as she struggled between life and death. It had taken almost a dozen surgeries and a year of physical therapy before she learned to walk again.

  That was the first time he almost lost her. The second time was when her no-good loser of an ex-husband let her think she was no longer a whole woman. She had sunken into such a deep depression he had feared she wouldn’t be able to find her way out again. He had paid a visit to the bastard when he found out the asshole thought to blackmail Trisha after his career went to hell when his commanders discovered his infidelity. He had no problem letting Peter know that he could make him disappear and no one would ever know what happened to him if he ever came near Trisha again.

  He opened his mouth to ask her where she had been when a movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to the figure that had been standing in the shadows. His gaze fastened on the shape of a huge, dark-haired man standing near the woods. Paul put a protective arm around Trisha, trying to turn his body so she would be behind him. The predator in him came out as the need to protect his family washed over him. His eyes narrowed in challenge as the man stepped out into the early morning light. Trisha glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Kelan Reykill, her mate and the alien who had changed her life. She held out her hand for him to come closer.

  “I tagged him, Daddy. He’s mine,” Trisha said, referring to the game they played when they were training soldiers in guerilla warfare. She turned to look up at him and smiled.

  Paul stared down into the beautiful face of his only daughter. There was something different about her—a wholeness that she never seemed to have before. Her face glowed with a sense of peace he never thought to see. She was in love.

  He turned his attention to the man walking toward him. He was taller than him by a couple of inches but not much broader. He quickly processed everything about the other male. The fact that he walked with an air of confidence spoke of leadership and power. There was a quietness in his step that told Paul he could be swift on his feet - dangerous. He could see the muscle definition and grace with which he moved, showing he would be skilled at hand-to-hand combat. He also noticed that the male was h
eavily armed judging by the weapons he had on his hips and back. Paul instinctively knew the male would have others hidden on his body. Paul’s eyes narrowed, focusing on every detail. The man’s hair was almost as long as Trisha’s but black as night and straight with two long braids in the front. He wore boots that reached just below his knees and was dressed all in black.

  Paul took a step back, drawing Trisha with him, as he looked back up into the man’s eyes. There was no way in hell they were human. Deep, dark gold with black elongated pupils, almost like a cat, gazed back cautiously at him. It took a moment for him to realize Trisha was trying to get his attention. He finally forced his gaze away from the man/creature/alien, whatever in the hell he was, and back to his precious daughter.

  “Daddy, this is Kelan. He is my true mate…. my husband,” Trisha said hesitantly as Kelan came to stand by her.

  Paul studied the male silently, noting when he gently reached out and clasped Trisha’s slender fingers in his large hand. He watched as the male’s eyes softened when he looked at her and how protective he was as he slid his other hand to lay it over Trisha’s swollen stomach.

  “Daddy,” Trisha said softly, waiting until he looked down at her again. “I love him. He took me to the stars and made me whole, just like you said momma made you feel.”

  Paul’s throat tightened at the mention of Evelyn. Even after all these years, he could still picture her beautiful face in his mind. She would forever be in his heart. Looking down at Trisha, he could see Evelyn looking back at him, almost as if reassuring him that everything would be alright. His throat worked up and down as he realized that his baby girl no longer needed him as much as he needed her. If he wanted to be a part of her and his grandbaby’s life, he would have to accept the man she chose.