Sealord: A Dark Dragon Shifter Romance

by Delta James

  “Your daughter and Donnacha?” Kellan asked the man as he set her down close to the trap door. Turning back to her, he gave her a gentle shove before saying, “Go downstairs and get dressed. I will expect you back up here within a few minutes.”

  From below, she could hear the man say, “I took Ciara and your man up to the Cave of Tears. He said others would be along to gather the belongings of the women who had been living up there. I understand your mate had made it a sanctuary of sorts for her wayward women, who are now under your protection. I thought we had best discuss some things in private.”

  As she emerged, Kellan spun around. She had dressed herself in the only gown she had—one her mother had sewn and that was a serviceable style far more suited to the wife of a farmer than to the mate of a dragon lord. It was plain and clearly had been made before she had developed her more womanly figure. She had pulled her hair back simply and around her neck she wore her mother’s amulet.

  “If it is privacy you and your friends want, I’d be happy to leave and give it to you,” she said with a deceptively demure tone.

  Kellan growled. “You will do nothing of the sort, and I will see to your punishment later. Best you behave yourself between now and then to try and soothe my ire.”

  From behind the other man, the woman who was with him approached her. “I am Bridget, mate to Gideon here, who loftily likes to refer to himself as Lord of the Earth.”

  Míorúilt giggled for the first time in a long time. “I am Míorúilt, who the great Kellan, Lord of the Seas, has claimed as his mate, without much care as to what I think about that.”

  “Your man, Cathal, says you were born drakaina so at least he didn’t force that on you,” continued Bridget.

  “I take it your Gideon didn’t bother with that technicality?”

  Both Gideon and Kellan growled simultaneously.

  “I would suggest, brother, that both of our mates are in need of correction and that we see to that before we talk.” Gideon nodded his head toward her pendant. “And I can see we have much to discuss.”

  “There is nothing to discuss. Míorúilt is my mate and already carries our firstborn.”

  “Then Duncan may well have more to say on that subject than you care to hear,” said Gideon. “After all, her birth triggered the loss of his immortality.”

  “He will either accept or die. She is mine and I will not give up either her or our offspring.”

  “We cannot turn on one another...”

  “Then he will accept that she is my mate...”

  “Clans do not inter-marry; you know that.”

  Kellan nodded. “Perhaps in the past, but I will not give her up, Gideon. She is my true heart.”

  “Oh, lord,” groaned Bridget. “Does he justify everything he does with that little gem?”

  “Yes,” Míorúilt said with a smile. “And he expects me to know what that means.”

  Bridget grinned. “Yes, they do like to assume that we know all of this stuff by osmosis. Why bother to explain anything. Say nothing and then when the drakaina doesn’t understand, they feel justified in beating your ass before they have at you with that devil’s tongue.”

  Again, the two male dragons growled.

  “But don’t you know what all of this means? I’m new to this whole being a dragon. But Gideon says you are dragon-born,” said Bridget.

  “But I didn’t know that until just a few years ago.” Míorúilt looked at Gideon. “What do you know about my pendant? Who is the ‘he’ you and Kellan think won’t like that Kellan forced me into this pairing? I would like to meet him and ask for his assistance in ridding myself of the Lord of the Seas.”

  Gideon took a deep breath and ignored Kellan’s angry rumble, saying to him, “If she tells Duncan you forced her...”

  Kellan nodded toward Bridget. “And you didn’t?”

  “Her sire is long gone; she had already been mate to a wolf-shifter and we aren’t talking about me. At some point he will wake and will demand her return...”

  “I will not give her up!” roared Kellan. “She is my true heart and will bear my heirs and daughters.”

  “She is of his clan, and more important, she is Duncan’s daughter. The only surviving egg and the one his mate died trying to protect.”

  “Who is this Duncan? Where is he?” Thinking quickly, she turned back to Kellan. “If I agree to stay with you and tell him you are my true heart...”

  “I am, and you know it,” bellowed Kellan.

  “If I agree and don’t try to seek refuge with this Duncan, will you release my women?”

  “They are now my women...”

  “Greedy bastard, isn’t he?” quipped Bridget, clearly enjoying Kellan’s and Gideon’s discomfiture.

  “Bridget, that is enough,” growled Gideon. “But she does have a point... who are these women and why are they yours?”

  “They were up in the cave with Míorúilt. They had formed a community of women and Míorúilt was their protector...”

  “Much like her mother,” said Gideon quietly.

  “I will not give her up,” grumbled Kellan.

  “Who is Duncan? How do you know I’m this Duncan’s daughter?”

  “The amulet around your neck,” Gideon said, indicating the pendant, “is actually a remnant of a dragon egg. I suspect it’s the one you were hatched from. Each clan has a color that is uniquely theirs and the egg of the clan leader or dragon lord is more heavily jeweled than other clan members. If you were not Duncan’s daughter, the color of the pendant wouldn’t be as brilliant nor would it be covered in crystals and gems.”

  Míorúilt turned to face Kellan. “Did you know?”

  “Not until I brought your things down. But it doesn’t matter...” he replied.

  “It matters to me!” she cried.

  Kellan grabbed her and pulled her to him. “Nothing has changed; you are my true heart and Duncan can either resolve himself to that or challenge me for you. He will lose.”

  “And I have no say in the matter?”

  “None!” he argued, tightening his grip on her.

  “Kellan, this isn’t helping. Why don’t we all just take a breath...” offered Gideon.

  “What an excellent idea,” Míorúilt said in a low, menacing voice as she drew a breath and streamed fire at Kellan.

  He released her and jumped back. Míorúilt whirled away and called forth her dragon as she ran to the edge of the island. Far too quickly, she found herself surrounding by shards of sea glass all around her, including overhead.

  “You, my drakaina,” Kellan said as he walked slowly toward her, “will pay for that display of your fiery temper. And I shall enjoy quenching that fire...”

  “Gideon, do something...” implored Bridget.

  “I don’t need his help,” exclaimed Míorúilt.

  She realized as she examined the fragments of translucent material that it didn’t seem like the dragon fire-forged bars of her cell; there was something beautiful and almost ethereal. She raised her hand in front of her face and approached the pieces of sea glass, placing her palm against the cool, smooth texture and pressing gently. Míorúilt felt it give way as though she was pushing water against the current—there was resistance, but it gave to the pressure and she walked through the barrier.

  “I’ll be damned,” whispered Gideon.

  “That, my true heart, was a given,” said Bridget. “Mind telling me what that means?”

  Kellan purred at her and Míorúilt felt it reverberating in the very marrow of her bones. The sound and the feelings that accompanied it seemed to slow time. She watched as he came to her, his hand reaching out. This time, instead of snatching her by the arm, he gently took her hand in his and drew her to him. The little resistance she was able to conjure up was quickly dissipated by the sound and feeling that stretched between them. What was this power he seemed to have over her?

  “My drakaina,” he murmured. “My true heart. Come to me.”

  She felt hers
elf drawn against her will into his embrace as his head slowly leaned down, his mouth taking hers in a slow, passionate kiss that seemed to reach across time and space and bind her soul inexorably to his. She gave a strangled sigh as she gave herself over to him.

  “What,” Míorúilt heard Bridget whisper to Gideon.

  “She walked through the sea glass barrier.”

  “So? He didn’t make it correctly?”

  “No, my beloved, because she is his true heart. His gifts cannot be used against her.”

  “Gifts?” she asked.

  Gideon nodded. “All dragons can breathe fire, but the head of the clan has an additional gift. In the case of Kellan, he can create sea glass at will. Strong and tempered, it can be used to remind a drakaina that she will remain where her lord and master wishes or create a bridge between two points, strong enough for an army to cross over it. In the same way that I could not contain you with something I produced from the materials of the earth, so Kellan’s sea glass cannot contain her.”

  “In other words, Duncan will accept that she is his true heart and do nothing to extricate her from this relationship regardless of what Míorúilt wants. And you wonder why drakaina are fractious?”

  Gideon rumbled at her and Míorúilt saw Bridget respond with the same kind of shiver she did when Kellan made a very similar noise to her.

  “Luckily, we dragons know how best to deal with our drakaina,” Gideon responded. “My brother, your men have offered us a room at their citadel. I will take Bridget and retire there to deal with her misbehavior, reassure her of my devotion, and take charge of our daughter.”

  Bridget snorted, but did not resist when Gideon led her away, shifted, took her in her human form in his claws, and flew toward Dragon’s Galloglas.

  “You are mine,” rumbled Kellan possessively, breaking her reverie. “I will not give you up. When Duncan awakes, I will deal with him.”

  “You can’t hurt him, Kellan. I would never forgive you.”

  “I will do what is necessary to keep what is mine. I will try to avoid harming your sire, but he will not have you.”

  Míorúilt shook her head. “How could you not tell me he lives?”

  “First, because I only just learned he was your sire. I had no reason to suspect who you were until I saw the amulet. Second, because he still slumbers and there is no way to know when he will wake. I did not want to tell you of his existence, only to have you unable to meet him.”

  “But...”

  “Do not fret, Míorúilt. I will ensure that all is as it should be. And when your sire sees my seed has taken root, he will know that the prohibition against drakaina mating outside their clan is a thing of the past.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kellan watched her and purred to her to try to soothe her discontent. He was torn between a need to punish her for her earlier behavior and to possess her in the way of their kind. He stroked her hair before leading her by the hand back down in the dungeon. Míorúilt held back, but he gently tugged on her hand as he led her down the stairs.

  “You fooled me, Míorúilt. I thought after the rut that you had committed to me and had accepted that you are my true heart and that your place is at my side. I will not allow you to behave the way you have thus far today.” He closed the trap door and then turned back to her. “As I showed you how a dragon cares for his drakaina when he takes her maidenhead and taught you what it is to be victim to the thrall of the rut, so I will now show you how a dragon deals with a misbehaving mate.”

  “What do you mean? You’ve already beat me several times.”

  Kellan laughed. “I did not beat you but rather tattooed the evidence of my displeasure all across your backside. I mean to do so again. But this time when I have finished with my hand, I will take my sword strap to your backside and lay a series of welts across it. Afterwards, you will lean over the edge of the bed, spread your legs and present your pussy and bottom hole to me for my pleasure and use, and afterwards, you will thank me.”

  Míorúilt held back. “No, Kellan, please.”

  “Yes, Míorúilt,” he said in an even tone of voice. “You earned yourself a welting and I will not shirk my duty to you as your lord and master. I mean to see you receive the correction you are in need of. You’re going to learn to obey.”

  Reaching where they had set up the bed, he tore the ugly gown from her body. From henceforth she would either be clothed as befitted his lady or she would be naked. He smiled... he knew which he preferred. He watched as the intensity of his stare and the deep, seductive growl he was offering made short work of her resistance. Her nipples beaded as if in slow motion and invitation. He locked eyes with her and inhaled deeply; the fragrance of her sweet perfume permeated the air and his cock hardened as it recognized the scent of her arousal. When he had finished her welting, his Míorúilt would be more than ready for his possession.

  Kellan sank down onto the bed and pulled her body across his hard, muscular thigh, trapping her legs between his. His hand came crashing down on her upturned bottom. The fact that her body was at a fevered pitch would only increase the level of pain the spanking caused. He raised and lowered his hand in a rapid tempo that not only reignited the sting from his previous spankings but ramped up the pain level to a dull agony.

  “No, Kellan, stop. Please!”

  “No, Míorúilt. You will learn to obey or pay the price for your disobedience.”

  He said nothing more but continued to cover her backside with harsh strikes, which made her squirm and kick her legs although neither was effective in getting him to stop. He moved his hand over her buttocks so that each slap was distinct and effective in expressing his displeasure with her behavior. He moved down to the lowest and most sensitive portion of her rump before continuing on down to her thighs, causing color to bloom across them.

  Míorúilt kicked and screamed to no avail. Kellan was not inclined to give in to her pleas. She was strong and stubborn and thus far a mere spanking had not caused her to decide to behave. She had run wild and free far too long and she needed to accept his authority over her and to do as she was told. If he could not convince her to do so with his hand, his sword belt ought to do the trick.

  “Now, my stubborn drakaina, we will see how well you endure having my sword belt applied to your bottom.”

  “No,” she cried.

  Kellan took the strip of well-tanned leather, doubled it in his hand, and brought it crashing down on her reddened backside, resulting in a weal beginning to immediately rise. Míorúilt’s scream of pain was cut off as he landed two more punishing welts with the supple leather. As soft to the touch as it was when lying inert, when used to inflict punishment to one’s mate it felt as though it were made of fire.

  He could feel his erection throbbing beneath her and poking into her belly. She squirmed in what seemed to be a dance between wanting to kill him and promising him anything he wanted if he’d only fuck her. As he landed the final two strikes, he felt Míorúilt finally capitulate to the welting and cease to fight him, as she began to sob and plead with him.

  Finally, he stopped. “I will not have you behave in this manner. You will obey and when you don’t, I will discipline you in the same way dragons have punished their drakaina for millennia.”

  He knew Míorúilt was having difficulty doing anything other than responding to him.

  “No, Kellan, please,” she managed to get out between sobs. “I don’t know what you want me to say but I’ll say it. Please.”

  He nodded as he began to soothe her punished globes. “I want you to apologize to me for your disobedience.”

  “I’m sorry I disobeyed you,” she said contritely.

  “I want you to thank me for seeing to your discipline and for giving you the welting you deserve.”

  “No, please,” she pleaded.

  “Yes, Míorúilt. Obedience starts now and you will do as I say.”

  He began to once again rain harsh, steady blows all over her backside.
<
br />   “Stop, Kellan. I’ll do it,” she cried. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Thank you for giving me the spanking I deserved.”

  “Not perfect, but acceptable. I’m going to finish your spanking and then you will get up and lean over the edge of our bed with your legs spread so I can see the evidence of both your punishment and your invitation to assuage the need that only I can create and only I can remedy. If you can demonstrate your obedience. I will see you doubly penetrated as I plow your sweet sheath until I am assured, once again, of your devotion to me.”

  “Kellan, please be done. I can’t take any more.”

  Kellan raised his hand and brought it down hard across her bottom. She cried out but it didn’t deter him. She renewed her struggles and fought with every ounce of strength she had, but she was no match for him. As the squirming continued, he felt a change. No longer did it feel as though she wanted to escape her punishment. He was quite sure she wanted him to stop spanking her, but the level of her arousal now exceeded the pain radiating across her backside. She was fast becoming in desperate need to feel his hard cock buried inside her up to its hilt. His mate was a drakaina whose libido rivaled his own and her need to feel him possess her was exceeded only by his to do so.

  But more than her needing to revel within his embrace, he needed her to believe they were destined to be together. She needed to understand to the depths of her soul that she belonged to him... and he to her. If he was to take on Duncan and the entire clan system, she must become one with him in all ways. If they were to make a break from their kind and stand alone in this new age, he needed to strengthen their territory and his hold on her. He needed his mighty drakaina at his side, not as his adversary, but as his mate and the first lady of their clan... able to take command should he fall, protecting their people and their offspring. Their heirs and daughters would rule over a new age. If their way was to be without the camaraderie of their own kind, so be it. Kellan would never give Míorúilt up.

  Kellan stopped, lifting her in his strong grip as he stood and then bent her over the edge of the bed. She would learn to do as she was told... learn that even in her need that she would obey. Without a word, he unfastened his breeches as he shoved two fingers into her soaked pussy and stroked her roughly, gathering some of her natural lubricant. His eyes caught hers as she glanced over her shoulder to see him slathering it over his cock. He smiled at her when he saw she was looking at him with a feral, primitive lust.