Taulan (Dragons of Preor Book 2)(3)

By: Celia Kyle & Erin Tate

He eliminated another stain on their race. One quick lift and shove accomplished his action, his sharply honed blade sliding beneath Prasho’s chin, through his mouth and into his skull.

While light remained in the traitor’s eyes, death lingering and waiting to take the male into its arms, Taulan gave him two words before it took Prasho and then came for him.

“For honor.”


Hunger drove Lana to the alien compound and desperation shoved her until she took that final, traitorous step into the station. Salty air teased her nose, and the scents of the sea infused her while the rolling rush of waves filled her ears. The wind buffeted her body and a quick scan of the building’s entry revealed the source. Yes, she was inside UST—Ujal Station Tau—but the windows facing the ocean were wide open, allowing the breeze entrance.

Her footsteps echoed off the metal grating that comprised the floor and she was thankful she wore flats instead of high heels. The pointed tips would have slipped right through one of those squares and sent her stumbling. Today—more than any other—needed to go perfectly.

Her life depended on it.

No, really, her whole life. This was it. The culmination of a chain of events that sent her world into a tailspin of one tragedy flowing after another.

The familiar sting of tears pricked her eyes and she pressed a hand to her stomach while she took a deep breath. Releasing it slowly, she fought for calm while dragging her thoughts away from what caused her to cry. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough. She’d allowed herself a few good cries and now it was time to put on her big girl panties and get back to it.

She glanced around the area, searching for a receptionist of some sort. Or a greeter, even. The door was unlocked, so the station was obviously “open” for the day, but there was nowhere to sign in nor anyone to notify of her presence. Moving deeper into the entryway, she peered down a nearby hallway and wondered if the lobby was really down one of the winding pathways and not where she’d entered. She looked left, gaze searching the corridor before turning to glance right as well.

And saw… nothing. No signs. No doorways. No—

A low whoosh from behind had Lana jumping back, straightening while she tugged her jacket back into place as she sought the source of the sound. The black suit was one of her few nice—and clean—outfits that was interview worthy. Living out of her car made cleanliness and being wrinkle free a tad difficult.

More than a tad.

As for living in her car… She hoped today would be the beginning of the end of that.

“Can I help you?” the lyrical voice sliced into her thoughts and she jerked with a small squeak.

Lana spun just as another low whoosh reached her ears. To her left, a panel slipped closed, blending seamlessly with the metal wall. So there were other offices lining the hallways. They were just invisible at a glance.


Oh. Right. She turned her attention to the woman standing before her. Tall and slim, the newcomer appeared human in nearly every sense. Her body had small curves in all the right places and her skin was a peachy, sun-kissed tan. Eyes that stared at her curiously were a sparkling blue that rivalled the clear ocean a mere hundred yards from her.

Yes, she appeared human from forehead to toes. That area above her forehead announced her alien-ness. Specifically, the fact that her blue hair matched her blue eyes.

Anywhere else in the world, that wouldn’t be a big deal. Men and women often colored their hair. But at UST the residents were sea-living aliens more often than not.

Lana cleared her throat. “I’m Lana Cob—Cooper.”

She swallowed hard and fought to keep her heartbeat steady. She wasn’t Lana Coburn—not anymore. She was Lana Cooper with a lovely fake ID and everything. She’d spent nearly all of the money in her hidden account to ensure she was never linked to the Coburn name again. It was the only true means of escape.

No one could find her now. At least, that was what she hoped.

“Sorry.” She gave a small smile and prayed the woman didn’t comment on her stutter. “I’m Lana Cooper and I have an appointment with…” Lana sought the interviewer’s name. Could she be more of a fuck-up? She needed the job yet forgot the name of the person she had to speak with? Then it hit her and she nearly cried with relief. She did a lot of crying lately. “Charlotte ta’Rhow.”

Also By Celia Kyle & Erin Tate

Last Updated

Hot Read


Top Books