Sealord: A Dark Dragon Shifter Romance

by Delta James

  Trusting her mother’s stories, she began to walk the perimeter of the main cave. At first she felt her way along the walls, but stopped to light each of the wall-mounted torches she found. The more she lit, the more she could see as the darkness gave way to light. She marveled at the structure within. There was a main bonfire area, whose opening when she stood directly below it allowed her to look up and see the sky high overhead. What she had once believed to be her mother’s embroidered tales of the cave in which they had first lived became fact as she followed the tunnels that led to smaller antechambers, each with a fire and chimney of some sort as well as the vestiges of a civilization left behind.

  Míorúilt could understand why they’d left their protected home to build a larger, more self-sustaining community above ground, but for her immediate needs, the cave was perfect. If there were others, especially other females, like her that needed a sanctuary, this would be ideal. As a dragon, she could easily imagine their acceptance of her as their protector and provider. If she was not to have the family she’d always dreamed of, then she would find a reason for her life in providing safety from those who had robbed her of that purpose.

  She went through each small annex off the main hall, piling rubble and trash in one place and useable objects in another. Míorúilt was delighted and reassured when she found a deep pool of clear, cold, fresh water. When she found the smallest cave at the very back of the complex, she gasped; there, strewn all over the floor, were chips of crystals embedded in thin shards of what felt like the most delicate pottery. Míorúilt bent down and picked one up to examine it... eggs. She was holding a piece of crystalline-covered eggshell in her hands and the floor was littered and piled high in places with them. A fleeting genetic memory overwhelmed her as she realized these were the remnants of the last clutch of dragon eggs—the eggs that the last female dragon, Neeva, had died trying to protect. Had her parents, or any of the others who’d lived here, known that this was the Cave of Tears?

  Míorúilt felt the tears as they slid down her face. She felt as though all of the breath had been sucked from her body. She had never felt more alone. The two people who had loved and raised her were dead and apparently she was the last of her kind. She sank to her knees, wrapped her arms around her middle, and keened her grief. Everything she had once taken for granted had been ripped away from her by a pack of rogue wolves. She vaguely remembered her mother saying that female dragons could only carry the child of a male dragon; so, with no male dragons left, she would never bear a child of her own.

  Míorúilt spent the rest of the day gathering all the shards of the eggs at the back of the small annex, stacking and placing them carefully. She found small stones and erected a sort of barrier to keep them contained and then used her ability to breathe fire to meld the rocks into a solid wall. Satisfied that she had erected a memorial of sorts for her extinct ancestors, she set about clearing out the other small caves and the main hall. In one of the smaller rooms, Míorúilt found several chests that had clothing she could adapt to use for herself. At the end of the day, she was tired but pleased with her efforts.

  She removed her clothes, put them in a small bundle she could carry, and shifted into her dragon form, finding that flight seemed to have the ability to soothe her exhaustion, both physical and emotional. She swooped down to the sea and was able to catch a large fish and toss it into the cave to be eaten later. After finishing the tasks she had set for herself, she flew back to the place she now considered her stronghold and, after lighting the bonfire, she set up a small washtub and began to sponge herself clean while her fish cooked. Once cleaned, she changed back into the loose-fitting pants and tunic she had found, belting them in so they fit reasonably well. There had been numerous pairs of boots, two of which actually fit. Clean, fed, and feeling safe, she set up an early warning system for anyone venturing into the cave. Once she was done, she made a soft bed and wrapped herself in a blanket from one of the chests. Closing her eyes, she was fast asleep before the rise of the moon.

  Over the next several years, Míorúilt was able to find those who wished to take sanctuary with her. They became a community of women. Each was pledged to the others’ safety and no one brought a stranger, be they male or female, to their cavern without the consent of the others. They were a small, but harmonious group who created items they could then trade for the things not easily acquired, such as fresh vegetables. Luckily, in the early stages of developing the Sanctuary, they were joined by the daughter of a blacksmith who had been offered to a wealthy merchant in exchange for her father’s gambling debts. Brenna was able to fix some of the pots Míorúilt had found on her first day, create a secondary large cistern where water could be heated for bathing or washing, and a forge where she created weapons that soon became highly prized by both the women of their tribe and those with whom they traded.

  The women knew that there were rumors about the exact site of their stronghold, but they were careful not to reveal its location. They also ensured that those in the surrounding area knew that a dragon protected them. Several times a year, Míorúilt flew out over the countryside and made sure she was seen. In addition, on All Hallows’ Eve she took to the night sky and breathed fire in an amazing display of light and power.

  There were members of their group who fell in love and left for a more traditional life, but there always seemed to be more to take their place. For the most part, Míorúilt found satisfaction and acceptance among the women with whom she shared the cave. They seemed to be able to accept that she was a dragon-shifter, the last of her kind and were grateful that she was their champion. Míorúilt’s annex was the one closest to what they now called the Annex of Belief. It contained not only the remnants of the eggs, but other relics of various religions so that each woman could worship in her own way. They often joked that by accepting all beliefs, they gave themselves many more reasons to celebrate with food and drink.

  Most nights, Míorúilt slept without dreams or at least not ones she could remember. It was only on the blackest nights when she had consumed too much alcohol that her dark lord visited her while she slept. She still saw him, sword in hand fighting against a force of faceless beings that seemed unbeatable. She was now able to insert herself, in her dragon form, into the dream. It was with her help that he was able to defeat his foe.

  However, before she could withdraw or wake herself, the hooded warrior would capture her and force her to shift, revealing her as a naked woman. It was only when she shifted that he pushed back his cloak to reveal a handsome face surrounded by longish black curly hair and hypnotic blue eyes.

  He captured her wrists and forced them behind her back so that he could feast his eyes on her nudity. His eyes swept up and down her; the resulting smile was lustful as he commanded, “You will not hide yourself from me. I am Kellan, Lord of the Seas.”

  She struggled against him. “Let go of me.”

  His smile grew feral as she watched his cock swell and stiffen. He shook his head. “I think not. Who are you?”

  “No one who wants anything to do with you.”

  He chuckled as he scented the wind. “That is not your choice. You are a female of breeding age and I am in need of a mate.”

  Who the hell did he think he was to make so bold a statement? She was not some helpless farm girl that would either throw herself at his feet or cower from him. She could feel her nipples beading as her body recognized a kindred soul. Her body felt as if it were on fire and felt flushed as a result of his feral stare. Míorúilt forced herself to relax. She knew she was no match for his strength, but believed she was quicker and smarter.

  “That’s better,” he crooned, bringing up his finger to trail down the column of her neck to the hollow of her throat, descending along her breastbone. When he failed to fondle her breast or trace her areola with his finger, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed, but she was certain he knew that desire was coursing through her veins.

  “Take your hands off me
,” she warned.

  “Where did you come from, little one? My brothers and I believed we were the last of our kind. And yet here you are, ripe for the taking.”

  She tugged against his strength. “I’m not anything for anyone’s taking.”

  He chuckled again. “Ah, but you are, and I will be the one doing the taking.”

  The warrior brought his hand up to cradle the back of her neck in his strong grasp and drew her forward, his cock pressing against her and poking between her legs. His phallus was enormous and appeared to be similar to others she had seen, but was more powerful and bulged with additional plating, bumps, and curves. It also had a distinctive ridge that twisted around it from base to tip, and the head seemed more pointed than rounded like those of other men.

  Kellan brought his mouth down on hers in a brutal kiss designed to subdue and entice. It was sensual and demanding... coaxing and commanding and it took every bit of her will and strength not to answer the deep rumble that she could feel more than hear as his tongue pushed past her teeth and swept through her mouth tasting and exploring. As she felt him give himself over to his own arousal, she reared back and brought her forehead into a sharp connection with his nose as her knee came up and slammed into his balls. Kellan staggered back from the unexpected attack and she was able to make her escape.

  Míorúilt was able to shift. As she ran, beating her wings in order to take flight, she was astonished when she saw Kellan shift and he too became a dragon. In his dragon form, Kellan was faster and far more effective as both a fighter and a flier. She had barely lifted off before he was able to get above and slightly in front of her. She felt his powerful back claws grasp her shoulders as he flew out over the sea, submerging her for a moment before pulling her up, sputtering and cursing. Kellan banked hard and took her to the island outside the sanctuary.

  Surrounding her in a ring of fire, he roared, “Shift!”

  As she did, he seized her wrists once more and dragged her to a stony bench before sitting down, tilting her over one hard thigh while trapping her legs between his. He raised his hand and began landing harsh strikes to her naked bottom. Not only did the spanking hurt, she could feel what had been a mild level of excitement awaken and bloom throughout her entire being, radiating from her backside down into her lower belly and fluttering down from there into her nether regions. Her nipples grew stiffer and she could feel her feminine moisture beginning to leak out.

  Kellan’s hand crashed down again and again, causing her to have to fight to keep from calling out. He said nothing but landed repeated swats that covered her entire derriere. The spanking was intensely painful and intimate. As much as it hurt and she told herself she was squirming to get away from him, she knew that in this vulnerable position, the swollen nubbin between her legs was being rubbed against his muscular thigh. It was as though despite the pain, her libido was set free to finally rid herself of her virginity. She had heard the other, more experienced women talk, and longed to feel his hard length deep inside her stroking her to ecstasy.

  Míorúilt kicked her legs and tried to wriggle away but failed. Kellan peppered her backside until she was quite certain she would never be able to sit comfortably again. She’d never known that having a man discipline her could ramp up her arousal in this manner. His hand seemed to not only be able to inflict a substantial amount of pain, but to fan the flames of her desire, which were threatening to burn out of control and consume her.

  Kellan didn’t seem particularly angry but merely kept her pinned down while he punished her backside. Míorúilt bit her lip in a desperate attempt to keep from pleading with him to stop or worse... pleading with him to assuage the need he had created deep within her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped and allowed his hand to rest on her painful behind, tracing the curve of her buttock with one finger, drawing it up between her cheeks and teasing the dark rosebud that protected her darkest hole.

  “Had enough?” he rumbled.

  “Yes,” she whispered on the verge of tears.

  “Then when you acknowledge that I am your lord and master and ask for my forgiveness, I will let you up and we can get on to something far more pleasurable.”

  “Bastard,” she hissed as his hand connected forcefully with her rump.

  “Kellan, sir, or my lord. You are my mate and you will behave.”

  “I despise you.”

  Kellan surprised her by chuckling and rubbing her backside in an affectionate and soothing manner. Again, he ran his hand between her ass cheeks, fingering her back entrance before slipping it between her legs to find her wet and heated core as well as her swollen nub.

  “Not as much as you’d like me to believe,” he said with a voice filled with lust.

  He continued to fondle her, penetrating her with two fingers and rubbing her core in a way no one, including her, had ever done. The feeling was incredibly pleasurable and made her catch her breath as her muscles seemed to stiffen in anticipation of the pleasure it seemed he was intent on inflicting on her. He stilled his movements but left his fingers deep inside her as her channel pulsed along their length.

  “Don’t,” she pleaded softly.

  “Don’t what, my drakaina? Continue to spank you? Or to pleasure you? Which would you like me to do? I know which one I would prefer, but the choice is yours and you will have to tell me. Choose, for it will be one of the few times I allow you to do so.”

  “Kellan, I don’t know what you want...”

  “I doubt that, mate. My cock is throbbing against your belly and it and the dragon’s tongue long to be making use of you in the way the gods intended.”

  “I’m...” she faltered.

  “You long to feel my cock deep inside you stroking you until your keening is for your release and to call mine forth. But you fear my taking of your maidenhead.”

  Humiliated beyond belief, she nodded silently.

  “Then you shouldn’t inflame my lust with anger. Had you not been a maid, I would not have been so lenient with you. You are mine, drakaina, and you will submit to me.”

  Kellan withdrew his fingers and began to rub the engorged tissue at the apex of her thighs. Míorúilt barely suppressed a moan of pure desire. It had been far too long before she had rubbed herself in a similar manner, but never had she felt the touch of a man nor had her own touch brought forth such intense pleasure. She could feel her heartbeat and breath quicken. Kellan used the wetness that seeped out of her core to play with the bundled nerves, increasing both the speed and pressure he used. He kept her on the very edge of something she had failed to achieve by herself. Every so often as she writhed beneath his touch he slipped his fingers back into her wet heat, gathering the slickness he needed to continue his fondling. Míorúilt tried biting her lip and the inside of her cheek, anything to distract her from the sensations he was building deep within her.

  “No,” she moaned.

  Kellan didn’t stop and continued caressing her, not only to bring her pleasure but to reinforce his mastery over her body. Míorúilt could feel her control slipping and finally felt her body convulse as his ministrations pushed her over the edge and she cried out as she fell into rapture, her body trembling as the rush of her first orgasm completely enveloped her and caused her to black out for a few moments.

  As she came to, she woke from the vividly erotic dream. She sat up on the narrow bed on which she slept and clutched the blanket to her. What did it mean? Did Kellan actually exist?

  Chapter Four

  Kellan made his way down the coastline flying far enough out to sea to be difficult to spot and low enough that his shimmering blue/green scales reflected the sun and allowed him to all but disappear among the waves. The closer he got to Raicleach, the more pungent her scent became. Kellan increased his speed; his mate was waiting and he needed to find and claim her before she was harmed. Her beautiful black scales spoke to her being a dragon-born female, but Kellan wondered how that could be. Was this just part of his dream? Could one of the egg
s have survived the slaughter? And if so, when and how had the drakaina been born? It didn’t matter; one way or another, the magnificent black drakaina would be his mate and would bear his children.

  He had thought about finding a place to stop for the night, but the urge to return to his home and to claim his mate was too strong. He wanted nothing more than to have her naked beneath him, impaled on his cock as he fucked her. Damn dreams had never allowed him to assuage the full measure of his lust. Each time he had awakened before he ever mounted her, sinking his cock deep within her sheath. If she was his true heart, the dragon’s tongue would unfurl and bury itself in her bottom hole, locking her to him as he rutted.

  He tried to imprint upon his fevered brain that in his dreams, she had been a virgin. No matter, she was his to claim; her maidenhead belonged to him. Kellan meant to ensure that she was well prepared to receive him and that he brought her to climax as many times as needed to exhaust her. He reminded himself that only in his dreams was she dragon-born, but in reality, he would have to wait until she was fully turned before breeding her to produce offspring. After all, Neeva had been the last drakaina. She had fallen in a desperate attempt to save the last clutch of eggs in the cave above Raicleach. But as the last four dragons had survived, it must mean that they were meant to reclaim their dominance as the apex predator and protector of those who served them.

  As he neared his home, Kellan was taken aback at what was left. While it was true that their enemies had laid siege to Raicleach, Kellan was unprepared for the ruins that greeted him. None of the walls was left standing. Partial walls dotted the landscape, but what had once been a peninsula was now an island. What had been left standing by the hunters had been ravaged over the centuries by wind, rain, and sea. He circled the island and only barely remembered that landing was an acquired skill. He’d been out of practice for a very long time. Folding his wings tight against his body, he dove beneath the waves, reveling in the feeling of cold saltwater as it soothed his skin. He shifted under the water and surfaced as a human, his casket of clothes and weaponry in his hands. He struck out, swimming strongly toward his home.