Rendan (Scifi Alien Dragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 4) by Celia Kyle, Erin Tate Page A

catch the gusts of air. He opened his arms, body exposed to the skies. His muscles burned, elongated and held immobile by the air. He tilted his head back, the sun caressing his face and his chest.
    He vibrated, his body preparing for the upcoming fight. The violence within his dragonish soul surged, suppressed by the strength of his mind alone. He was a machine, a means of protection and destruction, a battle-ready male who lived and died for Preor.
    Except, if he died for Preor, where would that leave Carla?
    Rendan pushed the question from his mind. It was a discussion for another time—not when he was preparing to launch himself into the skies with a male intent on destroying him. They would do their worst and hopefully they were equally violent.
    Then this entire process could be at an end and Rendan could court his mate. He’d walked out on her the previous night, furious over their situation. Carla wanted nothing more than a home and dragonlets. Rendan had never wanted dragonlets and a battleship was his home.
    The soft thud of feet on metal and the rustle of wings had him lowering his arms and folding his wings. He turned his attention to the approaching male—Ballakin.
    Rendan was not sure how Evuklar tolerated such a male as his primary defense warrior. He was hotheaded, overly violent, and one to act without knowledge of the full truth.
    “Ballakin.” He acknowledged the other male but said nothing else, waiting to see why his morning purge had been interrupted. This was the time for a male to cleanse his mind—clear it of negativity—before undergoing the trial.
    “Warrior Rendan—“
    “Offense Master Rendan.” The lapse was intentional, the male frustrated over being denied the position of defense master twice.
    Ballakin jerked his head in a brisk nod. “Warrior Argan is prepared.”
    The male moved to depart, but Rendan’s nerves were already on edge, his mind unable to tolerate blatant disrespect. “Ballakin, have the Trials of Syh altered since it was first performed?” He did not allow the warrior to answer. “Then tell me why I was interrupted during my time of syh nihon ?”
    Sky cleansing, when the clouds and air washed away all else.
    Rendan glanced across the platform, at Argan holding a position Rendan had so recently experienced. The male’s scales glittered with the golden rays of the sun, his scales reflecting the light until it almost appeared as if he glowed.
    Rendan gestured toward the day’s opponent. “And it appears you are incorrect. Argan is still engaged in his own syh nihon .”
    Ballakin kept his face a blank mask, as if he could hide his true emotions. Rendan joi Carla Butler was an offense master. It was his job to know his opponents—his enemies. Ballakin was not an enemy of Preor, but he did spark something in Rendan’s heart that had him wary of the male.
    Now, Rendan saw the true emotions in the male’s eyes. Anger, resentment, and pride. At interrupting Rendan’s syh nihon ? Yes. The male probably sought to enrage and disrupt his ritual.
    What the male did not understand was that no matter how long he communed with the skies, his mind would not be cleansed of negativity. Not while he still argued with Carla.
    As they spoke, Argan collapsed his wings and lowered his arms, gaze reaching across the platform and meeting Rendan’s. They bowed their heads in acknowledgment and he returned his attention to Ballakin.
    “Return to your duties.”
    “All Preor may watch—“
    Yes, all Preors could watch the Trials of Syh. With one caveat. “If permitted by both participants. Request to observe denied.”
    Petty? Yes. But Rendan did not care. Instead, he withdrew his focus from Ballakin and fixated on his upcoming opponent, striding across the platform toward the yellow male.
    Argan moved with a fluid stride, his muscles loose and face relaxed. He stared at the male, drawing in each flex and contraction, each bend of his joints and the smoothness of his steps. He