Rylin's Fire

by Michelle Howard

  ***

  Stares turned in their direction at their return. Ry didn’t care. He lowered Dara down his body, enjoying each glide of her curves against him. His shaft hardened and he crushed her to him with a groan.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Her palm smacked his shoulders. Pleasure and relief lit her gaze. “Don’t do this again.”

  Because concern for her governed his actions, Ry eased back to face her. “Whoever is doing this is deadly and has no remorse.”

  “How many women total have died?” Her tiny brows formed a crease at the middle and her nose scrunched.

  Ry’s hands drifted to clasp her hips, unable to stop touching her. His Dracol craved the contact. “Nineteen women across the various sects found dead. Three are my own and sixteen from the others.”

  She didn’t back down. She looked pissed. His very own spitfire.

  “That’s terrible. What are you going to do?”

  Before Ry could share his plans, shouts erupted around them and the floor vibrated beneath his bare feet. Ry spun around as the door to the mating chamber slammed open, revealing the only man he knew taller than him.

  Shoulder-length purple hair waved back from a harsh face. Gold eyes shifted from light to dark in a maddening pattern. Water glistened on the newcomer’s bronze skin as he made his way through, clomping over the tile floor with the heavy thud of his boots.

  Ry slid in front of Dara, his gaze searching the room rapidly. He delved into the mantle, seeking one female’s presence in particular. Breya.

  His fellow King ignored the row of Black forming, barring him from going further and keeping a wall of separation between him and Ry.

  Konlan’s gaze met Ry’s and he jolted from the small thread of madness he sensed beyond those flashing golden eyes. “Where?”

  One word. One question. But it was all Ry needed. He knew exactly why Kon was here.

  Chapter 14

  Dara wrapped her fingers into the material of Rylin’s vest, staring at the tall man with the flowing purple hair down his back. King of the Purple sect, if she were to guess.

  “Where?” he demanded in a gravelly voice.

  Heat flowed from Rylin’s body, warming her hands. “You’ve interrupted a mating, Konlan. Have you no well wishes for the couple?”

  Dara wasn’t sure how Rylin managed to keep his voice contained. The newcomer presented a frightening image. His features were rough hewn, his mouth twisted with savage cruelty. The purple silk at his hips clung to his powerful legs, stopping just short of his knees.

  The fabric was damp in places, rendering it practically see through, and Dara flushed at the visible evidence of his potency. He stared at the men blocking his path and hissed. “Move.”

  Goosebumps broke out on Dara’s arms.

  “Let him through,” Ry ordered and the men parted down the middle, clearing a path.

  Step by step the huge man, approached and Dara resisted the urge to run. Taking a deep breath, she eased to the side of Rylin despite his attempts to hide her.

  “Where. Is. She?” Konlan breathed out and shook his head like a wild beast, his purple hair settling about his bare shoulders.

  Rylin tensed and lowered his voice. “This isn’t the way, Kon. You know it.”

  Pain flashed across the glowering face and the snarl faded. There were undercurrents there. Something Dara couldn’t catch, but clearly Rylin was aware. Around them, Rylin’s people ushered everyone out. Across the room, Willow’s gaze met hers, though Arwen tugged on her arm. Dara sent her a reassuring smile and after another moment, her friend allowed her new mate to take her through the door with the rest of those fleeing.

  Konlan continued to bore holes through Rylin with his eyes. At last he spoke, his voice raspy. “Someone is killing liras.”

  Rylin nodded. “Yes. But she’s fine.”

  Another brief glimpse of hurt in those golden eyes. Then a shudder ran through the big man and he seemed to regain his composure. All expression blanked from Konlan’s features. “My people are making their way home, but I’ve attended to those who stay at my stronghold. I didn’t sense an unbalanced essence.”

  “Varyk and Faris reported the same, but someone among us is terrorizing females. Mated females.”

  The reminder had Konlan’s head turning as he searched the remaining people not bothering to hide their interest in the meeting between the two men. Dara had a clear view of his back. Purple scales tinted in silver with black striations lined his spine.

  “We’ll go to my rooms and speak privately, Kon.” Rylin reached for Dara and directed her out the opposite door she’d used to enter the room. To her surprise, the Purple King followed behind them.

  They were almost out. Almost away from whatever volatile situation sent the angry man stalking into the mating ceremony to begin with.

  Then Kon came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped up and a film slid over his eyes. Dara froze and Rylin cursed. Kon’s lips moved but Dara couldn’t decipher the word he mumbled.

  She followed Kon’s gaze across the room and stared at a woman too beautiful to be true. A little taller than Dara, the blonde stood next to a brown-haired man shooting glares in their direction. He wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulders when she paused, eyes locked on their group.

  “Kon, don’t.” Rylin spoke through gritted teeth.

  Smoke swirled from the Purple King’s nostrils. Dara tensed, well familiar with this sign.

  “He doesn’t deserve Breya.” Kon never looked away from the couple as he spoke.

  When Rylin pushed Dara slightly behind him, she pinched his side. “Breya is mated to Ranald. It is fate.”

  Kon’s head jerked around and he shot Rylin a glare. “What was between us was fate. She was to be my lira and you know this. Something happened to change her mind. Your Black...” Kon’s lips firmed as he finished. “He coerced Brie in some manner.”

  “They’ve been mated for a year, Kon.”

  The woman cried out, drawing all of their attention. The dark haired man pulled on her arm to get her moving again. Breya, Dara assumed, winced and a dark growl rumbled from Kon’s chest.

  “This is how her mate treats her?”

  Violence shimmered on the air. Kon fisted his hands at his side and Dara’s heart squeezed in sympathy for whatever he was going through.

  Ry continued to hold Kon’s stare. “He has never harmed her. Breya is happy with Ranald. Let it go.”

  “Never.” Kon’s voice plummeted to a deep bass with a thread of fury. “I will never let her go.”

  His shoulder bumped Rylin’s deliberately as he turned his back on the couple and left through the side door. Rylin stared at the blonde woman until she was gone before clenching his fingers on Dara’s. “Come.”

  They followed the path Kon took. The man was well familiar with Rylin’s home and headed straight for the suite of rooms Dara was starting to grow used to.

  ***

  Considering the past, Ry exhaled in relief at Kon’s mild response to the sight of Breya and her mate. While he didn’t agree with her actions when Breya broke things off with Kon without an explanation, she was still one of his and he’d protect her. Even from a man who professed to love her.

  “Dairin reported that the males received warning that their liras were about to die,” Kon announced as soon as they reached Ry’s sitting room.

  Ry tossed his cape aside and sank on a chair, pulling Dara onto his lap despite her protest. He curved his arms about her waist and held her close to his chest. “The three liras I lost reached for their mates in the last moments, then the connection was severed.”

  Kon didn’t sit, choosing to prop himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he met Ry’s stare. “My males have not reported this. Perhaps it is why we had no awareness that our liras were gone.” His gold gaze turned inward.

  Ry had worried over that small difference as well. He’d followed up after speaking with Nolan. “From what Varyk and
Faris have reported, their liras didn’t reach for their mates either. Only mine.”

  Kon cocked his head to the side. “You think this is a move against the Black, specifically.”

  Ry nodded abruptly and Dara shifted on his lap. His cock hardened and his Dracol stretched in pleasure. He tamped down the urge to lick the olive tinted skin bared at her throat. She stroked a hand down his forearm, fingers soothing him.

  “If that’s the case, then what’s the end goal. Why target the other sects?” Not quite doubt but disbelief flashed across Kon’s face.

  This was why Ry liked talking with Kon. When it didn’t pertain to Breya, he found his fellow King very rational. Unlike Varyk, who disliked the Black on principle, Kon didn’t leap to conclusions, and unlike Faris, who allowed his emotions free reign, Kon thought matters through. Ry missed the easy friendship they’d shared in the past.

  He tightened his arms around Dara as he prepared to acknowledge the possible motivation for the deaths. “Initially, I believe the death of the other liras was to turn the sects against me. Only you nor the others noticed the disappearances of the females.”

  Kon stiffened, his arms falling to his sides. “Then when he attacked your own...”

  “He let them cry out,” Ry filled in. “To be sure I wouldn’t miss it.”

  The timing had thrown the killer off though, because Ry had discovered the bodies before his males could report their missing liras to him.

  Kon leaned away from the wall and paced. Taller and broader than Ry, he radiated power in every step. Ry recalled the earlier days of their friendship before he’d taken the mantle of the Black. Slightly older, Kon had already led the Purple, wearing his mantle with an ease and confidence Ry could only admire. During his visits with King Sarkin, Kon would practice sparring with the Black soldiers.

  He took a lot of ribbing when no one had been able to throw him until Ry stepped forward. Kon sent King Sarkin a side glance and the King of the Black merely shrugged his shoulders with an amused smile.

  As soon as Kon charged forward, Ry had braced to meet the Purple Dracol while pulling on his essence. In a move he still wondered how he’d executed, Ry planted his booted feet and gripped Kon at the waist when their bodies collided. Using only his upper strength, Ry heaved Kon across the gathered crowd. The tall man hit the ground hard, but was on his feet in seconds with a savage snarl.

  Fear took a backseat to his own Dracol nature rising to confront the threat. At their core the two were of opposing sects, and no way would Ry go down in front of his fellow Black. Just when Ry wondered if he was about to be gutted, the large man approached him with his hand outstretched in peace.

  They’d been friends ever since, right until Breya refused the mating. Kon’s frequent visits exposed him to the pretty Dracol and he’d fallen for her instantly. Then to everyone’s surprise, Breya announced a week before her mating celebration to Kon that she was accepting Ranald’s suit.

  Kon had fallen into a rage, destroying half of the castle and a large tract of land. Ranald had tempted fate by coming out to witness the commotion and curling an arm about Breya to shelter her from the madness.

  Only Ry’s quick action of stepping in front of Ranald saved him from being torn limb from limb.

  Dara’s hand at Ry’s jaw, gently stroking, brought him back to the present. “Can you think of anyone who would want to force the others to think you killed their people?”

  She had Kon’s attention. His brows dipped and his voice took on a harsh grate. “Who are you?”

  Ry snarled, curling protectively about Dara. His temper flashed. “This is Dara, from Earth. You will respect her.”

  They gazed at one another, Kon recognizing the unhidden claim in Ry’s words. Kon inclined his head. “Forgive me.”

  Pink stained Dara’s cheeks, but Ry’s pride soared when she bravely sat up and shoved at the forearm he had locked around his waist. “I’m just wondering if all of this is because someone wants to get back at Rylin. Maybe when you all didn’t blame him for the murders, the killer decided to attack the Black Dracol. Kinda like shoving it in his face.”

  Ry wondered the same thing and Dara’s statement reaffirmed his belief that the murders directly related to the Black.

  “Challenging a Dracol King is foolish. Rylin especially.”

  Ry’s brow quirked. He hadn’t expected Kon’s remark. “Why me especially?”

  “You may not have taken to the mantle as easily as others, but your essence has fully accepted and merged with the power of the Black. You would make a deadly combatant despite your benevolent nature.”

  There had been plenty of times when Ry wasn’t benevolent. The truth remained unspoken between them. The early months of proving his right to rule had been bloody.

  “It could be anyone,” Dara speculated.

  Kon grunted. “I must return home, but I will continue to search for the one responsible. If he is among the Purple, I will show no mercy.”

  Ry stood and helped Dara to her feet. He and Kon clasped forearms. When Ry sought to pull his arm back, Kon’s grip tightened. His friend’s gold eyes darkened. “You will make sure Breya is protected at all times.”

  Ry inhaled sharply. Making such a promise would be difficult to keep. His responsibility was to all of the females in danger. “Kon.”

  Purple scales slid over Kon’s visage and his fingers grew claws. The partial shift came quickly and faded just as fast.

  “Please,” Kon snarled, the words garbled from his elongated teeth.

  “I will do my best.” Ry sighed, knowing he’d given a commitment that would put him in a difficult position.

  “It is all I can ask, Ry.”

  Chapter 15

  As soon as Kon was off and on his way home, Ry rushed Dara to his rooms. He wanted her so bad his balls ached.

  “Rylin!” she gasped when he slammed the bedroom door behind them.

  He spun around, pinning her body to the wall, his arms caging her. “I want you. It’s been two days.”

  Two days with nothing but the memory of her touch. Her scent.

  Dara clasped her arms about his neck. “You can’t blame me for the time apart.”

  No, he accepted full responsibility for his actions. Ry thrust his hips against Dara and lowered his head to nuzzle the thumping pulse at her throat. He tongued the smooth column, absorbing her taste. “I was...foolish.”

  She arched her neck and moaned. The hard press of her nipples stabbed his chest. Fiery longing surged through Ry and his shaft swelled to painful proportions.

  “I can agree with that.” Dara slid her fingers into his hair as she spoke, the tips grazing his mantle.

  Ry growled and tugged at the skirt of the black dress she wore. As much as it turned him on to see her wearing his colors, he preferred her bare. Once he had the bottom of the dress hitched to Dara’s waist, he allowed his weight to rest fully on her. He reached down and snapped the underwear she wore, letting the scraps of silk fall to the floor.

  The black curls between her thighs glistened with her excitement. Ry moved back just enough to shove his pants to his knees, then closed in on her again. He wished they were skin to skin, wanting to feel her silken flesh. But it would take too much time to rid her of the dress and remove the rest of his clothes.

  “I want to be deep inside you.” Ry kissed the curve of her cheek, the tip of her nose, and then he sampled her parted lips.

  Rich, sweet, and tasting of the finest wine. Dara curled into him with a moan and wrapped one leg about his hip. Ry’s tongue stroked along hers, teasing with gentle flicks. She clenched tighter around him and he broke away to growl.

  “Dara.”

  Her eyes glazed over but she held his stare. “Don’t make me wait.”

  The plea broke through and Ry vowed the next time to savor her touch. He gripped her waist and lifted her higher against the wall. She gasped but never lost her hold on him. With one final check to make sure he didn’t frighten her, Ry release
d his restraint, thrusting forward and entering her moist passage. Heat enveloped his throbbing erection. Wet flesh greeted him. Feminine muscles began an internal massage, creating more rumbling growls from deep in his chest.

  Ry held back his release with brutal control. Arousal surged as he set a determined pace guaranteed to bring them both to an explosive end.

  “Don’t stop, Rylin, don’t stop,” she chanted, eyes lowered as her teeth bit into her bottom lip.

  Ry practiced every mental restraint technique he knew. Nothing worked. Lust spiraled through him, igniting a blaze that demanded to be satisfied.

  “I need.” Ry choked the words out to Dara.

  The muscle in his jaw clenched. Goddess above, he needed. Her touch. Her kiss. Her soft caresses.

  Ry needed it all. Would she understand the need coursing through his veins? Accept it? His teeth raked across the column of her neck. Her shiver encouraged him and Ry increased the pressure of his teeth as they sunk further into the softness of her flesh. Dara moaned and his shaft pulsed in time to her erotic gasps.

  When blood tinged his tongue, Ry eased back on the bite and leaned up. A sense of satisfaction encompassed him. He slowed the fierce pumping of his hips to stare at the marks he’d left. His Dracol rumbled in pleasure. The visceral need to see more signs of his possession on her had Ry sliding free of her warm intimate grip.

  He eased the top of her dress down until her breasts bounced free and licked the berry tips. When Dara cried out, his lips ticked up in a smile. He squeezed and lifted her breasts, pushing them together. The full mounds created the perfect crest. Ry laved the nipple on the right before switching his attention to the one on the left. He nibbled and sucked, leaving behind red blemishes each time his head lifted.

  “What are you doing to me, Rylin?”

  “Loving you,” he answered without hesitation, gazing down at her twisting body.

  And Ry realized the moment he said the words that he meant them. Even if he’d wanted to consider their earlier sexual interaction an aberration, he would have been mistaken. As rare as it was to have an instant connection, Ry knew Dara was indeed meant to be his lira.