Her Dragon Captor (Her Dragon King Duet Book 1): 50 Loving States, North Dakota Pt. 1

by Theodora Taylor

  Silence. For many, many moments on end, all that could be heard were the crash of the ocean waves, the speed boat’s small engine, and the beating of their dragon wings against the air.

  Then Blue Father roared, sending a great flame down directly in front of the brothers’ boat.

  And lest the brothers believed Blue Father made his roaring flame by mistake, he sent another one when they merely stood there, mouths agape. This time even closer.

  Eos did not understand. The beloved twin sister of Great Wolf Mother had been taken. Should they not be reshelling and setting down in their boat? Asking how they might aid the brothers in their search?

  No, it would seem not. Eos watched, sad and disappointed when the largest brother yanked hard on the wheel and turned the boat around.

  “You will not tell Wolf Mother of what happened here this morn,” Blue Father said as the brothers disappeared into the distance. “It is not reverent to upset her with the news of her sister.”

  “I won’t,” Eos promised, but that vow sat heavy in his flame as they turned to fly back to their island home.

  Wolf Mother loved them all more than her own life, but she and Aunt Ola had a special bond. She was allowed to visit against Blue Father’s wishes, because as mother told him, “Twins don’t work like that. We can’t do that never seeing each other again thing.”

  Her flame always burned bright yellow when she talked of Aunt Ola, just as it did for her children. And ever since her visit, Wolf Mother had referred to things she would ask her beloved twin sister to bring the next time she called.

  Which she hadn’t. In a long time. Too long of a time. Eos realized why now.

  Yes, it would upset Wolf Mother greatly to hear of her twin sister’s capture by Blue Father’s mortal enemy.

  However, as they flew back to their home at a much slower pace than they left it, he couldn’t help but recall what Blue Father had said to him, after Eos asked him whether he, too, would be able to take a mate someday, despite his hybrid nature.

  Blue Father’s answer had been long and depressing. Their family may or may not ever be able to come out of hiding, he’d told him, but if by some miracle, they did, Eos would have to be careful around she-wolves, especially if he ever found himself in a “no drone” state.

  Most of these states had banned heat control, and therefore had many she-wolves who could go into something called heat at any time.

  Heat was the most confusing concept of all. Apparently, she-wolves had no spontaneous desire or inclination to perform reproductive acts until they were one day flooded with pheromones that compelled them to mate. When male wolves scented these pheromones, they often went “crazy” and would feel similarly compelled to mate. And if a male did copulate with a she-wolf in heat, they would mate for however long it took for the she-wolf to become pregnant. Anywhere from mere hours to several days.

  Eos had been very, very confused.

  “Will I become crazy, too?” he’d asked his father. “Even though I’m only half wolf?”

  “I hope not,” Blue Father answered. “We drakkon are not nearly so indiscriminate in any case. It is rare that even two drakkon are sexually compatible. So when we encounter a compatible being, we mate that being, no matter what. I felt compelled in such a way by Wolf Mother from the start, though I tried to deny it. And I suspect my superior compatibility with her was what caused her heat.”

  Eos had many more questions after that. Would his male works descend as well for the right she-wolf? For any she-wolf in heat? Would it be possible for him to mate with a human as well? How was he to know the difference?

  His father gave him no clear answers. Nor did he know if Eos would experience sexual need prior to mating as Wolf Mother said male wolves often did.

  “In any case, this is not something you will need to worry about for another decade. Your mother wishes you to be informed, but she would also like for you to wait a standard sixteen planet rotations before you engage in sex with anyone.”

  Eos had nodded in agreement, though he was left with more questions with no answers after the talk with his father.

  And now after the triplet brothers’ departure, Eos had another question. “Why would the dragon king kidnap Twin Sister of Great Wolf Mother?” he asked, though he already suspected the answer.

  “I imagine he has discovered that he is sexually compatible with her,” Blue Father answered. “Otherwise, he would have murdered your aunt in the showiest way by now.”

  His stomach flame flared with nausea at Blue Father’s answer. “So the dragon king took her to mate. But isn’t that a terrible thing?”

  Silence. Much, much silence, as Blue Father’s wings beat in opposite time to his.

  Then his father said. “I hope not. In fact, if my suspicion was right, Twin Sister of Great Wolf Mother might be the only one who can save us from my cousin’s wrath.”

  “Then why not tell Wolf Mother and Family of Wolf Mother this?” Eos asked.

  Blue Father answered immediately this time. “Because if I am wrong, she will pay with her life. We will all pay with our lives. And that knowledge would bring Great Wolf Mother even less peace than she has now.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  DAMIANOS

  After she releases me, I once again find myself unable to let Colby bathe her, even though he is the servant and I am the king. Thus, instead of leaving her, I tell him to bring me the same items I requested last night.

  And when he knocks on the door, I palm it open, positioning my body so he cannot see past me to my naked she-wolf.

  “Here are the items you requested,” he says, extending a bowl of soapy warm water, a sponge, and a large towel. He’s dressed in what the anthro male children of this millennium refer to as pajamas: flannel pants and a t-shirt emblazoned with the name of his former university. I must have woken him from slumber with my command.

  It matters not. Like all the Colbys, he never appears resentful, even in the early hours of the morning.

  I do not thank him for rising from his bed. Please and thank you are useless human custom words. And I already feel all too human as I take the items I will need to give my she-wolf a sponge bath.

  “I will expect breakfast at the same time tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I frown. His usage of that word reminds me of my conversation with Ola from earlier in the evening. How upset she’d been to find out that Colby and all his fathers before him were my thralls.

  I palm the door closed in his face before I can give that memory too much sway.

  This is why the she-wolf is dangerous, I remind myself as I return to the bed with the water and towels. This is why I cannot give in to these instincts crackling through my flame after mating with her a second time.

  Turning my thoughts from Colby, I give her a sponge bath, reveling in the sight of her bare body as I run the sponge over it.

  A drakki from my home planet would never have folded herself into an anthromorphic shell as we males do. Female drakkon were considered too precious for interstellar travel to planets where such a covering might be required. But if a drakki were to acquire a shell, I imagine she would look much like Ola, only with the entrance to her female works inside a scaled stomach as opposed to between her legs. Ola’s human form is so much larger than most of the females on this planet, tall and fleshy, but relatively strong underneath. Any drakki would have fit well inside of a shell made with her light brown epidermis and bountiful curves.

  I did not know that I liked curves prior to meeting Ola.

  Reverence…

  No, no, I cannot follow that instinct. This is temporary, and everything will be ruined if I allow myself to give in to those thoughts.

  I quickly finish her sponge bath and reach for the silver cuff…only to find myself pausing before I take hold of it.

  The anthros and their silly histories that they can never bring themselves to forget…

  It shouldn’t matter. It doesn
’t matter.

  Yet I find myself unable to reshackle her to the bedpost. Or depart from her just yet.

  I leave the silver cuff dangling from the post, then settle into the chair beside her bed. Sensations, large and previously unknown disturb my flame, as I watch the up and down of her chest.

  I do not like these new sensations. How do the upright primates refer to them, again? Ah yes, feelings. Well, these feelings are worse even than the great clawing itch I suffered before I gave in and claimed her. I rub at my chest, as I used to rub at my belly, wanting them gone.

  Suddenly no longer able to bear it, I rise from my seat and leave the room, my nostrils flaring with the urge to burn something to the ground. Feelings were never a problem for me before. But ever since the she-wolf crashed into my life, it has been a constant battle to keep my flame a cool blue.

  I shed my accessories when I return to the master suite. This room is twice as large as the one I just left, with a bed made exactly to my specifications. I god spoke the architect and the consulting designer to get exactly what I wanted.

  I’d thought I might keep her with me in here as well. Drakkon mates do not share quarters as modern anthros do, but I’d reasoned that it would be easier to monitor her during my resting hours if I imprisoned her in the same room.

  However, that plan had revealed itself as impossible as soon as our eyes met at the Wolf Lounge, and I’d suddenly had the urge to rip the head off the wolf with whom she was holding hands. It did not matter that I had been the one who god spoke that basketball player idiot in the first place.

  No, I could not fully control myself in her presence, could not be trusted in the same room with her. The vexing she-wolf was more dangerous to me than she knew. And if I could no longer bring myself to shackle her after twice performing the breeding act, what would happen when she fell pregnant with my progeny?

  My fire flares inside of me, fearful and bright.

  My ultimate revenge…my plan for my drakkon race…the reverence I owe my father…she could ruin everything.

  I sleep fitfully that night and am awakened to an alert from the house’s smart room. “You have a biohail from Maxwell Kreft!”

  Is the latest Colby still labeled as Maxwell in the biosystem I allow him to use to complete necessary errands? How vexing. This has happened with a few of the Colbys. They name their sons something else in the hopes that it will be enough for their progeny to escape my service.

  Naturally, it never works, but it is irritating. I huff smoke as I answer the hail. “You will change your biosystem name to Colby at once.”

  Several moments of silence, then, “It is done, Master.”

  Again, I don’t bother with useless thank yous. “Why do you hail me? It is not yet time for breakfast.”

  “The she-wolf, Master. She is trying to escape.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “The she-wolf, Master. She is trying to escape.”

  Colby’s answer hits me like the jet planes I must always be so mindful to avoid when I’m in the air. And I barely hear the rest of his words as my flame darkens with rage.

  The details matter not. My she-wolf has once again tried to escape. Which can only mean one thing.

  The gatekeeper’s death was not enough. Despite my two claims, she still fights me. It was not enough to quell her. Her obstinate spirit…it must be crushed.

  No more feelings. My flame burns with nothing but cold blue resolution as I make my way down the stairs.

  I find Ola in the receiving room, dressed in a clean nightgown and swinging a wing chair into the two-story front window. “Why… are… all… these… windows… wolf-proof?”

  She bangs the chair like a cricket bat against the window on every word. “I… know… that… wasn’t… in… the… budget!”

  If the scene below the stairs was happened upon by anyone but me, they might have found it comical. But my flame does not ripple with even an iota of amusement.

  “Master? Master? Is that you?”

  The voice is coming from the room’s coat closet, which has a chair shoved underneath the knob. When I open it, I find Colby inside, dressed in his tailored black and white servant’s uniform.

  “I caught her sneaking down the stairs when I came out of my room to use the lavatory. She was right upset when I got in her way. But I managed to secure the rest of the house before I ran to hide from her in this closet, Master. I made certain there was no way for her to escape.”

  I glance around to see he is right. The room is perfectly secure at all of its perimeters, save the stairs. An impenetrable door has slid over the archway leading into the kitchen—the only room with a knobbed door in the house. And the front smart door has turned red, signaling that no one can enter or exit, until it receives a voice command from either Colby or myself.

  This Colby is much savvier than his father. He learned his lesson from the incident outside when she easily sent him flying with just a push. And he wisely did not attempt to fight a she-wolf who is twice as strong as him. Simply used technology to make sure she didn’t escape.

  With a pang, I think of the last Colby who, despite his advanced years, tried to prevent the Betrayer King from escaping my prison with physical action.

  He never did recover from the injuries he sustained in that short scuffle. And after taking to his bed, he’d ended up dying of several underlying ailments he hadn’t bothered to get treated.

  Colbys tended to do that. They accept their lot when they first come to me, but it was always necessary to send them back out into the world at the age of thirty or so, to ensure an heir to take their place. Family inevitably changed them. They’d come back after fulfilling their legacy with sad, hangdog eyes. I often did not get even two decades of good service after their return.

  Colby hung on a bit longer than that, but his death had somehow been earlier than expected for me. Too early.

  Colbys come and Colbys go and never shall a drakkon weep.

  But sometimes… sometimes it was hard to look at this new Colby. His face had a great likeness to his father’s at the same age, but this Colby’s eyes shone much, much brighter.

  I inwardly hiss, cutting off my foolish thoughts. More feelings. This business with the she-wolf is making me all too sentimental.

  “Return upstairs,” I command, cutting my eyes away from the young upright primate. “Breakfast will be delayed.”

  He rushes back up the stairs as I turn back to the she-wolf. She is a glorious sight, her face and arms radiant with sweat.

  And I can feel her frustration and anger as if it is my own.

  With a silent hiss, I acknowledge this is most likely due to a functioning mate bond. I had hoped one wouldn’t form between us given our vastly different species. While I’d been straining for days to god speak this she-wolf, the last thing I want is her inside my own head. Yet here I stand, her feelings of anger, frustration, and fear pummeling into me.

  I mute my own feelings. Perhaps this will keep her from discovering this newest weak spot in my armor.

  Then I wait for her to acknowledge my presence.

  And wait.

  She is very much aware I am here. I can feel that awareness over our mate bond, intense and fearful. Also, her weariness. Swinging the heavy chair requires much exertion, even for a wolf. Yet she doggedly continues to do so long after I’ve come down the stairs.

  “Cease this immediately. Or I will have to punish you for your defiance on top of the punishment of this latest attempt at escape.”

  She pauses at my words. Letting the chair rest on the floor while she breathes hard.

  But then she stubbornly picks the piece of furniture back up and heaves it into the glass. Again and again. In open defiance.

  I let her. She will tire soon and have to stop. Meanwhile, I ratchet up the severity of the punishment with every bang of the glass. Raised as she was, by American gangsters and two drakkon murderers, she thinks she may do whatever she wishes.

  But I will
teach her. Oh yes, I will.

  However, my first prediction does not come true.

  In the end, it is not fatigue that stops her deliberate swings of the chair into the glass. It is the release of a new heat that causes her to drop the now ruined piece of furniture.

  “Fuccccckkkk!!!!” she screams at the ceiling as the smell of her heat fills the room.

  “Will you try to run away, she-wolf?” I ask her. “Perhaps this time up the stairs?”

  I make my tone as derisive as possible because she still does not understand… “Believe me, I was not pleased when my male works descended for you of all females. This business between us has ruined and delayed so many of my plans. But, understand, she-wolf, there is no running from this. For either of us.”

  My she-wolf raises herself to her full height, her eyes blazing, even as her body trembles with the lust of her heat.

  And I wait, my own body poised to give chase if she does not heed my all-to-true warning.

  But in the end, she turns around to face the window.

  “I hate you,” she whispers. “I hate this.”

  Then she bends over, extends her backside and raises her nightgown to reveal her female works. Which are dripping with heat.

  There is an opportunity to speak many cruel truths here. After all, I have won. But blind lust blanks my mind.

  I cross the space at lightning speed and mount her the same as I would if she were a drakki, one foot coming up to brace against the side of her thigh.

  However, that is where all comparisons between her and a drakki end. She is much softer than the female of my species. Her body is a vertiginous landscape of curves, and I cannot stay my hands from touching…exploring. Even though this breeding act is only meant to be a means to an end.

  This time, it is not necessary for her to guide me in. With an instinct I wouldn’t have known it possessed, my primary cock finds her breeding hole and with a thrust of my hips, I’m in.