The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens Book 1

by Raven Storm

  I threw the doors to my wardrobe wide and tried to find something respectable, but my hopes weren’t high. Georg had already appeared earlier with a replacement for my traveling cloak, though I’d been told in no uncertain terms that I was only to wear it when I was cold, and not to hide myself.

  I shook my head, trying to focus. The outfit (and cloak) I had worn earlier was ruined by Brogen’s blood and claws, so I’d have to find another. Sighing in defeat, I pulled a deep emerald gown out of the closet, thankful it would at least fall past my ankles. Some of the dresses in there seemed hardly long enough to wipe one’s nose with, let alone use as clothing. I shimmied uncomfortably into the sheer silk garment, pulling the two thick straps over my shoulders. The dress left them bare for all the world to see, but at least it covered my midriff.

  “Can I get anything for Miss?”

  Georg waited patiently outside; his smile genuine. I looked up into his brown eyes, and realized he was probably my only reliable ally in this entire fortress.

  “Yes, actually. Call me Wren.”

  His grin was dazzling.

  Dinner time came, and I couldn’t stop shaking. A rumble was heard from the stone passageway, and I whipped around. It was time already? My eyes scanned the food, set minutes earlier, and I grabbed another knife. I didn’t bother hiding it as I clenched it in my fist. If these drakens thought I’d just lay down and let them take me, they had a painful reckoning coming. Voices filtered in from the hall, and I stood and backed up against the far wall. After a moment, Georg appeared with the two winners in tow.

  The red head immediately turned his gaze towards me, his eyes widening as he took in my aggressive stance. The other one simply stopped where he was and gaped. Georg gave them a formal bow, and I pleaded with my eyes for him to stay. He gave me an apologetic shrug and backed out of the passageway, sealing it shut behind him.

  “This is where they hid you; very clever.”

  The red head slid his gaze away from me and towards my chambers. In his human form his red hair went past his shoulders, tied back in a loose ponytail with a simple leather cord. He had a small beard and kind, green eyes in addition to a large, angular nose and a wide forehead. He gave a formal bow, like Georg’s.

  “It is an honor to meet you, Wren. I am Kieran.”

  When Kieran realized his companion had yet to follow his example, his fist flew out and smacked him in his stomach. The other draken doubled over in a rough bow, finally tearing his eyes from me.

  “Er, yes; a pleasure. Sorry, I’m Ronan.”

  Ronan was slightly smaller in stature, with his brown hair so dark it was nearly black cut short, and golden eyes that had only a tinge of brown to them. His nose was more delicate, though sharp cheekbones gave him a slightly predatory, hungry look.

  They both straightened and looked at me in anticipation. I gripped the knife, not moving.

  “Now you’ve done it, you’ve scared her with your staring.”

  Kieran walloped Ronan around his ears, but Ronan snarled and snapped back, kicking Kieran in the knee. They both fell to the floor, scuffling. After a few growls and tussling, Kieran popped back up, his nose bloody and off-center. I watched with wide eyes as it healed in front of me, the nose snapping back into place with a ‘pop’ as he wiped the blood away. He hauled Ronan to his feet, as the smaller draken shook out his leg.

  “Sorry about that! Dominance fights are a common occurrence here, though not usually with us. This one knows his place.”

  Kieran jerked a thumb at Ronan, who growled, but didn’t correct him. They both stood there awkwardly, waiting for me to make the first move. They’d be waiting all night.

  “Shall we?” Kieran tentatively gestured at the food. He sat around the loaded table and began serving himself. He shot Ronan a dark look and the other draken followed, struggling to keep his eyes off me. I’d have to watch him. The two men ate and chatted, for all the world ignoring my presence. After a bit, my muscles sagged, tired from being tense for so long. Clearly, these men weren’t going to attack me like Brogen did. I took a step towards the food but stopped, looking at the knife I held.

  “Hold onto it if it makes you feel better; smart to always stay armed in unknown situations.”

  Kieran talked around a large roll in his mouth, not even glancing up at me. I sat down and snatched a plate and a small bit of chicken.

  “Good on you for getting Brogen when we couldn’t; that lowlife deserved it.”

  I froze, my eyes flicking to Kieran’s.

  “T-Thanks.”

  Kieran wiped his mouth, looking at me seriously as I started eating.

  “I apologize if Brogen has tainted your opinion of drakens. Both of us are ecstatic just to be here, and you can expect nothing except stimulating conversation and perhaps a dessert tart, if that’s your preference. Drakens do not force females, Brogen’s appalling instincts aside.”

  Ronan shot another nervous glance at me. I swallowed, feeling some of my fear dissipate.

  “Benedict gave the impression that—"

  Kieran threw his napkin down, scoffing. “Benedict doesn’t always have...what’s the word, Ronan?” He snapped his fingers, and Ronan rolled his eyes.

  “Tact?”

  “Yes, that! He spends all his time outside the mountain and grows to expect the worst of us. A few hundred years ago, he’d have been correct; we’d have jumped you the moment you walked in. Centuries of self-control have mellowed us somewhat. Our inner animals are sensing the species is likely lost.”

  “But Brogen—”

  “Most of us. You should always still be wary. It’s the draken instincts; they scream at us constantly to find our mates and start our families. Some of us can tune it out, others can’t. It’s one of the reasons so few of us are left; we start turning on each other. That’s Benedict’s main job: to keep us in line.”

  I added what looked like poached hare to my plate, along with a few potatoes. Companionable silence fell, and I loathed to break it. At least my stomach was able to keep down what I had put in it so far. Kieran shot a look at Ronan, who nodded.

  “May we give you a gift?”

  I wiped my hands on my napkin. “I suppose.”

  Kieran unhooked something from his belt and so did Ronan. My hands twitched as they set down a pair of glittered, jeweled daggers on the table. The blades looked razor sharp, and the handle was carved from what looked like bone. It wasn’t though, was it?

  “The blade was fashioned from a demon spine. Nasty things, but this knife will repel them from you and hurt twice as much when you get a hit in. I hear you like your knives."

  I allowed myself a smirk in his direction as I ran one finger down the hard white surface of the blade, unsure how to act. It was hardly an appropriate gift for any woman, but it felt perfect for me. It was hard to imagine being anything other than a slave or a servant, but a slave certainly wouldn’t own anything as deadly and awe-inspiring as this.

  “They’re beautiful…” I murmured.

  “More deadly than they are pretty to look at,” Ronan interjected, smiling widely. I picked up the smaller one, holding it in my hand.

  “Would you like to learn how to use one properly?” Kieran asked tentatively.

  “Not that your way wasn’t effective with Brogen,” amended quickly, “it just lacked a bit of form."

  I laughed, then choked it back. I couldn’t help but be suspicious; no one was ever kind without wanting something else in return, after all.

  “Why would you help me?” Kieran looked genuinely confused, and a bit hurt by my defensiveness.

  “Why wouldn’t we? It would hardly do our species any good if you weren’t able to defend yourself. Besides, you picked us, and that is something we appreciate. It is a great honor to be chosen as your companions. Being around a female reminds me of home.” His eyes went far away, and I glanced down to the knife, turning it over and admiring the way the jewels glinted.

  “How long ago did it all happen?�
�

  Ronan sighed. “Oh...probably close to seven hundred years by now.”

  “Six hundred and eighty-eight,” Kieran corrected, and my jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re all that old?” I couldn’t decide how to feel about that.

  “It’s part of the protection enchantments on our race, though some call it a curse. Until we find the...er, that is, until the curse is lifted, we will not die naturally. Of course, immortality seems hardly an attractive option when you’re stuck inside a hunk of rock for centuries on end.”

  I grimaced; that did sound awful.

  “Why are you all trapped here exactly? That doesn’t seem fair.” Kieran sighed, but Ronan leaned forward, anger in his eyes.

  “Of course, it isn’t fair! Neither was winning a war by committing genocide, but here we are—"

  Kieran rolled his eyes as Ronan sat back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “Enough! Benedict will skewer us if we give away all our secrets!” He clapped his hands together, and I pouted. Kieran stood, wiping his hands on his thighs.

  “I know we were promised the entirety of the evening, but I think it best if we leave you to rest. Again, we thank you for your hospitality, and for choosing us. We can meet later, and try out those knives?”

  Ronan stood with him, and suddenly I didn’t want them to leave. If they did, I’d be alone in these large rooms again, with nothing to distract me from the thoughts of Brogen’s blood staining my body, or of the cold gleam in Benedict’s eyes when I begged him not to give me away. It was pure luck these two hadn’t hurt me, and for some reason, it felt instinctual to want them around me; these two drakens could protect me.

  “Wait!”

  They paused, fierce interest in their eyes. “I just...please stay longer.”

  Kieran’s eyes softened. “You’re very young for a human, aren’t you? Have you been with a human male before?”

  I blushed hotly, not expecting this turn in the conversation. You didn’t just ask someone that!

  “No! I mean, of course not. We are encouraged to stay as ‘pure’ as possible, since it makes us worth more at auction. This...everything about this seems so foreign.”

  Ronan’s face twisted in anger.

  “You grew up in one of the breeding manors.”

  I nodded, unsure why this angered him. It was better than growing up in the wild, wasn’t it? I’d have been dead before I reached adulthood.

  Kieran scoffed.

  “Wren, you need to understand that our species is in crisis. You could have any man here that you wanted, or all of them at the same time.” His gaze grew contemplative.

  “Probably best to do it in small groups though, now that I think about it.” I choked, and they gave me matching grins.

  “I take it things are very different in human culture—”

  Kieran punched him in the gut, and Ronan shut up.

  “The only one in charge of your body now is you,” Kieran began, his tone no-nonsense. “No matter what D’Arcy says, no matter what Benedict says, if you don’t want anyone here, do not submit.”

  My eyes lifted to Kieran’s patient, green ones.

  “What about your species? Isn’t the whole point to...to have babies?” I could barely say it without blushing, my eyes going to the floor in embarrassment.

  Kieran closed the distance between us, and I didn’t flinch away as he kneeled in front of me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ears. This close, I could see the tell-tale shimmer of scales hiding just beneath the skin of his human form. Kieran grasped my hand, his calloused fingers tracing a gentle pattern against my palm. He was the first draken to be kind to me.

  “We don’t even know if it’s possible for a human to birth drakens. You are, essentially, a last resort experiment.”

  He paused, grinning again.

  “This will sound incredibly self-serving, but I would be willing to help you learn about being with a man. That is, both of us would.”

  I blushed again, something that amused them to no end. The no nonsense way they approached everything was refreshing, but also terrifying.

  “May I kiss you?”

  He hovered above me, demanding or expecting nothing. That was what made me consider it; he had asked.

  “Here, hold the dagger if it helps, and you can stab me through the heart if I get too fresh.”

  I shot a dubious look at Ronan, who waved my concerns away.

  “He’d heal faster than he’d bleed out, no worries.”

  I left the knives on the table, deciding to trust him. My index finger softly touched his lips, thinking they felt just like mine. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as though my touch was overwhelming. It felt odd to have this sense of power over a man, and I couldn’t help but wonder: what would it be like to kiss him? The men in the breeding house didn’t kiss; that wasn’t how children were made. Was that what Kieran wanted to show me?

  His fingers ran a soothing pattern down my forearm and a delightful shiver ran through my body. My thoughts were as foreign as the delicious tingling of my body. I was different now; a woman who had killed, and who wanted to learn more about what went on between men and women at the breeding house. The scared, frightened girl who’d been abducted was dead.

  She’d died with Brogen, bleeding out on the floor to be forgotten and disposed of. No more would I be constantly frightened, letting other people tell me what to do. Things were different now; I could protect myself. I wanted to protect myself, because for the first time in my life I felt like I was someone worth protecting.

  Who could I be if I could choose? I was sick to death of fear, and how it had controlled me my entire life. What would it be like to choose freedom? To choose the drakens? To choose as many men as possible that would give themselves to me? It was a terrifying thought, but so incredibly liberating.

  My fingers continued to explore Kieran’s face, so different from D’Arcy’s and Benedict’s. Kieran was covered by scars, and his skin felt hot yet smooth under my fingertips. I wondered what his scales felt like.

  “Kiss me?” I asked, unsure but curious, no longer afraid.

  My words were a trigger, and suddenly my face was in his hands as he kissed me deeply, stirring to life a sleeping desire within my chest I hadn’t even been aware of. It felt wet, but also wonderful. Kieran broke away quickly, moving his lips over my face, then my neck and shoulders. I felt his fangs graze the side of my throat as Ronan watched carefully.

  A fire blazed in Kieran’s eyes, and he snarled as Ronan took a step towards us.

  Ronan backed off, and Kieran assaulted my mouth. My lips stung as he bit down hard, though he didn’t break the skin. I backed away, swatting him none-too-gently on the face. Kieran stopped, and shook his head. His eyes cleared, and he sighed.

  “Do I need to fetch a knife?” I asked innocently.

  The lingering tension broke, and he laughed, his eyes alight in challenge.

  “Let me try again,” he begged. Kieran’s large hands cupped my face, his lips much gentler this time. I closed my eyes as he delved into my mouth, curious and firm, but without the desperate hunger he previously had. When his tongue quested further, I opened my mouth, allowing him in. It felt as though my soul were wide open, as he pressed desperately against me. He groaned, and then with great reluctance pulled away. My shoulders heaved in disappointment, an odd tingling racing down my spine. I turned to Ronan. I needed more.

  “Would...would you like a kiss as well? Since you’re both winners?”

  Kieran’s kiss had awoken something within me, an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. Would it feel the same as Kieran?

  Ronan nodded wordlessly, and then was in front of me. His arms ghosted over my bare shoulders, then cupped my face tenderly.

  “We are all old enough to remember that there were mates and families before, but we have forgotten how it felt…”

  His voice was full of awe and reverence. His hands ran lightly through my hair, and I closed my eyes. It f
elt nice, and his lips brushed lightly against mine, but rougher than Kieran. I took a deep breath and relaxed into him. His kiss became more insistent, and I decided to let go of my fears and just feel. He moaned, one hand squeezing the side of my neck. His claws slid out from his nailbeds, leaving tiny marks against my skin. I liked it, I craved it, and I wanted more. Would he squeeze my neck harder? My fingers traced his lips, and he drew one into his mouth, the pads of my finger sliding underneath a fang.

  “Like I said, kinky, siren.”

  I jerked, jumping back from Ronan as Benedict strolled into the room. I hissed in pain as Ronan’s fang bit down on my finger, and I snatched it back to my chest. Blood trailed down my hand, and when I looked up the three of them were frozen, eyes trained on the blood.

  “What—"

  Benedict slammed into Ronan, knocking him to the floor as he pounced directly at me. I grabbed the knives, holding them up in my uninjured hand as Kieran eyed me warily.

  “You going to jump me too?”

  He shook his head frantically back and forth, but it was clear he was fighting off whatever his instincts were telling him.

  “GET OUT!” Benedict roared, and both practically tripped over each other as they scrambled for the hallway. Benedict growled until they left, then grunted at nothing. He gestured for me to come over.

  “Let me see.”

  Still afraid, I gripped the knife tighter, and backed away. He growled.

  “You hardly tempt me. Let me see.”

  His cruel remarks sapped my will to fight, and I took a tentative step forward. He snatched my hand, examining it critically. I wanted to say something smart, to test the boundaries of my freedom here.

  “You could be less rude about it,” I sniped, my pulse racing at my own defiance. He frowned at me, then bent down to examine my finger without another word.

  “The wound is deeper than I thought, but not terrible. Outside the mountain you would likely need stitches.”

  I snorted; stitches weren’t wasted on slaves. His purple eyes lifted to mine, no anger present at my outburst. He meant it then; I could speak freely here.