by Raven Storm
“You don't act like most human women.”
I rolled over onto my stomach, refusing to let his presence ruin my good soak. I didn’t turn to see if he was staring at my backside or not; I felt like I already knew the answer.
“Is that supposed to insult me?” I asked heatedly. He laughed; a real one.
“Not if it isn’t working.”
I rolled my eyes and gestured over my shoulder to the bottles at his feet.
“If you’re going to laze about, you can at least be useful. Bring me that little blue bottle there.”
I could tell he thought about refusing because there was a long pause. Then a sigh, and he was in front of me. The cuts on his arms and chest had stopped bleeding but were still noticeable. He handed me the bottle without comment.
“Thank you.”
I dabbed a bit of oil onto my hands and spread it over the top of my back. I struggled to keep the dress around my body and maneuver the oil, and Benedict snorted with impatience.
“Here, I’ll just do it, if you’ll stop writhing around like the Skolex in its death throes.”
It was tempting to make a smart remark, but I didn’t. The rough texture of his hands landed on my back, and he hesitantly rubbed some of the oil across my muscles. His fingers paused over the many scars he found, and I swore internally.
“Your back—"
“Like I said, it wasn’t too hard of a choice between Crullfed or an unknown man kidnapping me in the darkness.”
He shut up after that, and I knew a few minutes of peace as I soaked in the tub, his hands rubbing my back. The warmth of the water and him was soothing, and my eyes slowly drifted shut. A sudden blast of coolness hit my skin as his hands lifted, and I registered a large splash next to me.
“What—"
He grunted as he slid into the bath, my eyes zeroed in on the leather boots and breeches discarded by the side of the tub. I squeaked and turned over, moving away even though the small pool was easily big enough for six people. I had rarely ever seen a man before, and now one was naked right next to me.
“Don’t worry, I still find you an annoying little twit.”
I stiffened, but his tone wasn’t harsh like it had been before; it was teasing. I sniffed in mock protest.
“Only humans have this odd need to be clothed all the time,” he continued, his eyes shooting to my arms, which were still stubbornly covering my breasts.
“Really? All the vampyres and lykos—"
“They dress opulently to rub in the fact they own you. Before the Demon Wars, lykos never wore clothing, and vampyres stuck mostly to pants and vests, like we do. It’s for fashion, not function. Clothes easily get rippLed in battle, after all. The easiest way to conquer humans would simply be to steal your clothing; none of you would dare venture outside.”
He had a point.
“Why does D’Arcy wear a tunic, then?”
Benedict gathered a clump of bubbles in his hands, then let them float away.
“He is covering an old scar he is embarrassed of; white magick gone wrong that killed several drakens before we withdrew from the war.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. My mouth opened but then I closed it, knowing how he liked to accuse me of babbling.
“Just ask your question already, so you don’t implode and ruin the bath.”
I shot a glance to the other jars lining the bath, and he cocked an eyebrow, daring me. I sank further down into the water.
“How do you get the hot water here? At the breeding house, it would take five of us at least an hour to haul up enough water to fill a barrel, and that was after the cooks heated it over a large fire.”
“Natural hot springs,” he grunted, and I pondered that. He moved closer and grabbed my hand. I squealed but he ignored me.
“Put it down close to the bottom, and you will feel warmer water. We use metal pipes to pump the water up straight through the natural spring in the ground. Other pipes take it away and dispense for use elsewhere in the mountain.”
“Pipes,” I said, testing the new word in my mouth. His face twisted in disbelief.
“You don’t know what pipes are?”
“Enslaved race, remember?” Then I splashed him in his face for good measure. He blinked, rapidly clearing the water out of his eyes. Then he got a calculating look on his face, and with a swipe of his hand sent half the contents of the bath pouring over my head with his massive wings. I coughed and sputtered, my feet slipping into the deeper end as my body twisted and tried to right itself. Water was everywhere, in my ears, my eyes, my mouth and nose. I choked, and my hands reached out for anything to latch onto. That was how I found myself grasping onto Benedict’s naked body, gulping for air in panic. His face and body flushed a dark shade of brown.
“I imagine enslaved humans don’t learn how to swim?”
My arms tightened around his neck, unwilling to leave the relative safety of his arms just yet. “You imagine correctly.”
His hands moved to my waist, and I was extremely aware of the heat radiating off of him, much more intense than the heat in the water. This close, I could see the wounds cut across the fine scales of his chest, jagged rips that tore across his skin. I wondered again why he didn’t just heal them, like he did when I stabbed him. I gently trailed the edges of one scale with my fingers, and he growled in warning.
“You’re so angry all the time.”
He pushed my hand away and set me down beside him on the bench. I clutched the dress to my body, still unwilling to be as free with displaying my body as he was. He stood and stretched, letting tiny rivulets of water cascade down his muscles. I looked away, not bold enough yet to stare at his naked form.
“Like what you see, siren?”
I crossed my arms again, refusing to look. “Your pet names are as stupid as you are.” He dried off with a nearby towel, ruffling his hair vigorously.
“Sticks and stones.”
He threw the towel at my face and I caught it, immediately dropping it to the ground with a grimace. He threw on his breeches and sauntered off. Hopefully to his own chambers.
Rather than hang around and run into Benedict again, I immediately set off to find Kieran or Ronan. They promised to start working with me on my daggers, and I meant to hold them to it. As luck would have it, Kieran was already on his way. I bumped into him not far from my chambers. Maybe he would know why Benedict wasn’t healing?
“I was coming to fetch you for your lessons!”
Kieran’s smile was blinding, and exactly what I needed right now. As he drew closer, he took in my anxious face, and frowned.
“What is wrong?”
“Why won’t Benedict heal after the Skolex?”
Kieran nodded, as if the question made perfect sense. That was one of the reasons I liked him so much. “Magick takes more time to heal, especially black magick. Do not worry, Benedict is a draken king. If he needs to heal, he will pull energy from us. Or if he doesn’t, he’ll keep the wounds until his own energy stores can handle it. A knife directly to his heart won’t kill him unless he wishes to die.” He laughed, finding the idea completely absurd.
Oh.
“Are you plotting to kill him?” He continued, his eyes alight with amusement.
“I mean...no.” I finished lamely, feeling rather foolish. I glanced up at Kieran and let the tension bleed from my body. In a way, Kieran made me feel warm and safe, like there was someone in this damn mountain who cared about what happened to me. That feeling was addictive; a drug that I was starved for. I gripped the neckline of his shirt, and his face tilted down to meet mine. Decisively, I brushed my lips against his. Kieran made a surprised noise, but quickly recovered as he melted into me. He tasted musky and tangy, like he’d been drinking an ale earlier. His hand gripped harshly onto my face as his wings flared around us, cushioning my back as he pushed me up against the stone wall. His scales and feathers were beautiful, reminding me of the sunrise. I moaned as the r
ough scales of his hand brushed over my breast, and he was careful to avoid my skin with his claws. It was all I could do to wrap my legs around his waist as he picked me up, hanging on tightly as his lips traced a path along my collarbone. I whimpered when he lightly pinched my nipple.
“If you were my mate, I would kill myself before I made you upset.”
I believed him; more than that, it would be so easy to pick him and be done with it, wouldn’t it? Why did she have to choose multiple men? Kieran was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely liked me. Unlike Benedict. A different sort of need rose in me as I thought of him, and I decided to embrace it. Why shouldn’t I take when I wanted, especially when it was so freely given? I would take Kieran’s kindness and Benedict’s darkness.
Kieran paused as he noticed the shift in my demeanor.
“If you do not choose me, I would still beg for the honor to be by your side, whether that is on your court or just as a friend.”
I was truly touched by his gesture. It was so easy to like people who were nice; especially when they were in such short supply. I leaned in for another deep kiss, and he hissed with pleasure as our lips crushed together. His tongue quested into my mouth and I obliged, opening wide for him. His pelvis ground against mine, even as his hands slipped under the edge of my dress and across my stomach. His teeth pulled down on the neckline, and I knew I needed to stop before we got carried away where anyone could see. I put my hands on his chest, and he gently lowered me to the ground.
“I can assure you, you’re in the lead.” Kieran beamed at me, and I laughed. He may be a draken, but he acted like a giant puppy most of the time.
“Why don’t we get some proper training with your knives? If you’re free, that is. I’ve found a good workout is the best way to bleed off the emotions.”
I didn’t know if he meant metaphorically or physically, but it wasn’t a bad idea. My daggers were still sheathed against my thighs.
“Knives it is."
Kieran nodded and led me on a long walk through the fortress.
EIGHT
On the walk to the training rooms, Kieran took the time to answer my questions about the fortress, and drakens in general. His answers were non-judgmental, and he treated me with respect. Was it sad how easy it was to earn my trust, or did it speak to how horrifically I’d been treated in my life? I didn’t feel like examining it too closely.
“If you think you can mate with human women, why aren’t you out there...building your species again?”
Kieran paused, choosing his next words carefully.
“The biological need to raise young, to find our mate...it’s overwhelming, Wren. It’s so strong it keeps us from ending our own torment in this mountain, do you understand?”
“Maybe. It... wasn’t ideal where I grew up, but it was at least better than being dead. Or at least, most days I figured it was. As long as you’re still alive I suppose there’s hope it may get better.”
Kieran nodded. “Exactly."
I hated thinking about the breeding house.
“Will Ronan be training with us?” Kieran nodded.
“He is never far from me; he is actually much more skilled with knives than I am. The sword is more my strength.”
That made sense: Kieran was larger, whereas knives would better suit Ronan’s smaller frame.
“Are you...related to him?”
Kieran snorted, the sound echoing loudly off the stone walls.
“No, we are not related. As I said, the biological need to find a mate is overwhelming. Finding others helps to quell our baser urges. There is a reason him and I are allowed more freedom with you than the others.”
My face went red at his implication, even as I was intrigued at the thought of two men together. How did that work, exactly? Was it pleasurable for both? It had never occurred to me that something like that was even possible.
Kieran shot me a heated glance, as if he knew exactly where my mind had gone. Mercifully, he said nothing. It wasn’t much longer until we arrived in a large stone room, only half the size of the arena. Ronan was already there, lighting the torches along the wall with the one he carried. He walked to the far wall and inspected a few of the weapons that hung there.
“Usually, this time of day is when I train, but you are more than welcome to take part.”
I lifted my head in thanks and allowed him to lead me to the wall.
“We’ll do knives of course, but you’ll want something with a bit longer reach eventually. A knife won’t help you against something like the Skolex! Anything look good?”
My eyes traveled over the shining metals, the blades and jewels glittering in the torch light. I tried to focus, but all I could see in the reflections was Benedict’s dark blood, flowing down into the sandpit as he faced the Skolex alone. I studied my own reflection from the blades, thinking. Benedict was a walking contradiction: one moment, rude as hell, and then the next sacrificing his body for his own people. It was clear he wasn’t uncaring; he just didn’t care for me.
“Well?”
I sighed and considered. There were traditional long swords, a few short daggers, and some blades in between. I truly had no idea where to start. “What do you recommend?”
Ronan wrinkled his face, deep in thought. “Honestly, we should gauge your strengths and weaknesses before deciding.” I nodded; that made sense. “So, what—"
“Start running.”
Ronan slid into his draken form, lunging at me with his claws and teeth. I didn’t have time to shriek, I just ran as anger and adrenaline fueled my speed. I praised the gods I’d picked a short dress today and had the foresight to wear the breeches as well. Kieran’s booming laugh echoed throughout the room, and I swore loudly. For the next fifteen minutes Ronan chased me around the room, running me ragged until I couldn’t breathe, and my legs gave out. I tumbled to the ground as Ronan pounced on me playfully.
“Mercy! I beg for mercy!” I joked, raising my arms to shield myself. As he fell on me, he scrambled to pull in his claws and teeth, and in a split second he was back in his human form, pressing me into the dirt floor. Ronan’s gold eyes bore into mine, glowing in the dim lighting of the training room. He shifted, and I felt something hard poking into my thigh. My eyes widened in realization right as he leaned down to kiss me.
Ronan tasted like spiced honey, and heat flowed all along my body as he deepened the kiss. It was darker than Kieran’s; more demanding and instinctual, but just as satisfying. He pushed himself against me, trying to claim my entire mouth. I felt his fangs slide out from his gums, and I stiffened.
“Ronan, easy.”
Kieran approached us carefully in his draken form. Ronan grabbed me by my hair and twisted it painfully, pulling me in close to shield me from the other draken. It was a role reversal from the other night, but it was obvious Ronan didn’t have as much control as Kieran did.
“Put me down,” I pleaded, all thoughts of arousal gone as those sharp fangs hovered only inches above my neck. The gold in Ronan’s eyes flashed, then there was a blast of air and he was gone, leaving a stinging sensation on my chest. Kieran ploughed into him, throwing his body across the room. I gasped as I saw four red lines opened along my neck and chest, starting as a small sting then blossoming into a sharp pain. Kieran crouched protectively in front of me. Across the room Ronan hissed and growled, circling to try and find an opening around Kieran to get back to me.
I sat up carefully, one hand pressed to my chest. I was quickly covered in blood, which ran freely down my chest and ruined my dress. I looked up, and both drakens were frozen, their hungry eyes locked onto me.
“Come on, not again.”
I didn’t know what to do. Should I try to get away? Move slowly?
“Kieran, Ronan, don’t.”
They circled around me, hissing at each other but never once breaking their gaze from my bleeding chest. I had never been more terrified in my entire existence, and for the first time in my life I gave into the instinctive need to sc
ream for help.
The sound that left my body was otherworldly; a long, loud screech that shook the walls of stone and physically knocked Kieran and Ronan on their asses. Kieran and Ronan shook their heads, then advanced on me again. They never got the chance to pounce, because three drakens roared into the room, clashing immediately with Kieran and Ronan. Then four more came, and then more, and suddenly it was a melee as drakens fell upon each other, viciously battling for dominance.
I tried to crawl away and found myself picked up and thrown. My arm broke as I landed awkwardly, barely managing to whimper as white-hot pain engulfed me. A large talon stepped on my leg and I screamed in agony, making that same animalistic, desperate screech. A draken with bright blue scales turned and grabbed me by my broken arm, ignoring my screams and lifting me high in front of him. His fangs descended towards my neck and I grabbed the dagger from my sheath with my good arm, the blade catching him across the face. The draken shrieked and dropped me, breaking a few ribs when I met the unyielding ground, unable to brace myself with my broken arm. I screeched again in desperation, unable to see as the fighting escalated all around me. Another distressed, warble pushed itself from my throat, and I felt an answering consciousness rumble back to me. I couldn’t explain it, but suddenly I knew that real help was coming. There was a swirl of darkness before me and quite suddenly, Benedict was there, tearing into each draken he could get his hands on. His wounds still looked fresh, but it didn’t stop him as he viciously cleared a path in front of me.
“It’ll be over soon.”
D’Arcy was there as well, positioning himself in front of me. He faced outwards and shielded me from the other drakens with his massive turquoise wings. I curled up into a ball, just wishing it would end. The shrieks and cries of the other drakens lessened, until all I could hear was Benedict’s deep growl. D’Arcy lowered his wings, and everyone was gone except for him, Benedict, Kieran, and Ronan’s unconscious body.
“We’re sorry. We just wanted to teach her—"
“You utter MORONS! Did you not think she would bleed while training? Had you already forgotten how this one had already proved he couldn’t handle her spilled blood?”
