A Lair So Primal (The Last Dragorai Book 3)

by Zoey Ellis

  “I need to ask you something,” she said, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “When I was around the lair yesterday, no one would speak to me—some even tried to get as far away from me as possible. Why is that?”

  Marahl walked slowly to the door and picked up her basket of potions. “Until our lord has accepted you properly, it will be difficult for anyone else to either.”

  “Why?”

  “If you are seen as a criminal, or someone who has wronged the alpha of this lair, it’s not just that alpha whom you have offended,” she explained. “It is his staff and his dan askha. It is his clan and the dragorai as a whole. No one wants to anger our lord by befriending you when he hasn’t fully accepted you yet.”

  Elora held up her hands in frustration. “You told me that he wanted me healed and you gave me this room. So are you saying that I’m still not accepted?”

  “You have no role, no purpose,” Marahl said. “You will be accepted when you do. That is when you will truly be part of the lair.”

  “So even if I go about the lair today, the same thing will happen? They will avoid me?” She shook her head in annoyance. “I thought this place would be more welcoming.”

  “Maybe you should manage your expectations better,” Marahl said, her voice stern. “You seem to think that you’re entering this lair under the same conditions in which you entered your last lair. You are not. In Nyro’s lair you were welcomed as a member of his staff. In this lair, you have been handed over to us because of an action that you chose to take which is against dragorai rules. You have to come to terms with that.”

  “I am,” Elora snapped, harsher than she intended. “But I’m here. I’m paying my debt the way he wants me to. Does that mean I will not be a part of the community until he decides that my debt is over?”

  Marahl shook her head. “I cannot decide that.”

  “You are the steward,” Elora insisted. “I don’t understand how you do not have some involvement in what other people in the lair believe.”

  “If you are under any impression that I manipulate my staff’s thoughts, I will tell you now that you’re mistaken,” Marahl said stiffly. “They are their own people and are here for their own reasons. It may be that way in Nyro’s lair, where there are multiple war-avoiders who see his home as an escape or a fun social community and a chance to see the elusive dragorai, but people in this lair have been here for years. To serve. We love the dragorai.” She headed to the door and opened it. “If you want to be part of this lair, you need to manage your expectations.”

  “You don’t manage yours,” she said, quietly.

  Marahl stilled. “What?”

  Elora firmed her mind and forced herself to remain steadfast and not fall back on her usual smiley kindness. “You just made numerous assumptions about Nyro’s lair that you don’t know to be true,” she pointed out. “And you and your staff behave as though I tried to attack and kill your lord, when in reality I was fleeing to safety. I am not like other trespassers—I never would have been on his land if I wasn’t going to Master Nyro’s lair. There is a difference. You are not willing to give me the benefit of doubt, even though I am paying my debt, and I’m happy to do it.” She lifted her shoulders. “At least in Nyro’s lair there is an acceptance that we all come with a past, just like the dragorai themselves, and our pasts aren’t held against us.”

  Marahl was silent for a long moment and Elora held her breath. She never would have normally been so direct with someone she’d just met but this lair, and its lord, was bringing out sides of her she didn’t recognize. Still, it wasn’t as though it didn’t need to be said. Maybe this was how she needed to be here.

  Marahl sighed. “I’ll be back shortly to give you a tour of the lair, so you can at least start learning your way around.”

  Elora relaxed and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Marahl inclined her head and left.

  Pushing herself up onto her unsteady, achy legs, Elora headed to the table, wondering whether Marahl really heard her. She understood what Marahl was saying about the staff and why they might not have been keen to talk to her or be seen with her, but now that she was clearly their lord’s kon’aya surely that would change things.

  She took a bite out of the fresh-baked bread and hummed in delight, savoring it. She was starving. For some reason, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Thankfully Marahl had provided numerous plates with a range of dishes on them.

  As the food warmed her belly, her spirits lifted. Maybe on the tour with Marahl, the other servants would see she was friendly and maybe give her a chance.

  Soon after she finished her meal, Marahl opened her door. “Ready?”

  They left the room, and Elora made a point to memorize their route.

  Walking around the lair with Marahl gave Elora a better picture of what it was like. Marahl explained to her that most of the dragorai lairs were the same size and required a similar kind of maintenance. They came across servants who were busy doing their duties, just like when Elora saw them the day before, except this time they didn’t make it a point to avoid her—but they didn’t speak to her either. Some of them eyed her or asked Marahl what Elora’s role was, but most of them hardly spoke, simply nodding their heads in acknowledgment to Marahl as she passed. And Marahl didn’t stop to speak to them either. Her explanation was that she didn’t want to interrupt them from their duties. Elora began to get the feeling that most of the ones who had ignored her weren’t being intentionally rude, rather, they had a single-minded focus on their chores and she was not important enough to disrupt them.

  They came across the young woman in the brown tunic who Elora had seen the day before; she was in a room making candles. Marahl paused to explain to Elora about the room and Elora smiled at the girl. The girl smiled back but continued her duties without a word.

  “You said everyone has been here for years,” Elora said to Marahl as they began walking again. “Has she?”

  “Yes. She’s been here since she was a young girl. She was recruited along with her brother who works in another part of the lair. They’ve both grown so quickly, I’m not sure they would even recognize each other now.”

  “What do you mean?” Elora said, horrified. “Why wouldn’t they recognize each other? Don’t they see each other?”

  “The lair is big, Elora,” Marahl said. “As far as I know, they spend time together when they can, but their quarters are located in different parts of the lair since their jobs are different.”

  “How long do they work in a given day,” Elora asked.

  “Usually from sunrise to sundown,” Marahl said, glancing at her. “What was it like in your last lair?”

  Elora’s heart sunk. The culture of this new lair was nothing but constant work, and she couldn’t figure out why. What was the need for everyone to work so hard? Was it the rumbling and shaking that made the lair require more maintenance? Everything she had seen the servants do didn’t look to her as if it had to do with maintaining the structure of the lair, but she couldn’t be sure. She hadn’t seen everyone.

  Marahl took her to the kitchens where she met the first friendly face since she’d left Nureen. The main chef was an exhausted-looking, dark-haired man called Boe who had a mischievous grin and a compulsion to have Elora taste everything.

  “No more, no more,” she laughed, after trying spoonfuls of eight different sauces. “I will look forward to them on my next meal.”

  “Fine,” huffed Boe. “But take these.” He pushed handfuls of sugared almond clusters into Elora and Marahl’s hands. “I was experimenting this week and there are too many for me to eat.”

  Marahl tsked. “He just likes feeding people,” she muttered to Elora.

  Boe glared at her, even though he never stopped filling her hands with more clusters, and both Marahl and Elora laughed.

  “Elora is staying in the lower west region,” Marahl said. “Can you start using the bell in a few days once she’s healed so
she knows when she can collect her meals?”

  Boe beamed. “Of course.”

  “The bell will let you know when dishes are ready throughout the day,” Marahl explained. “Once you get used to the times, you won’t need the bell anymore. Do you think you’ll be able to find your way here?”

  “I think so. All I have to do is follow the delightful smells.” Elora grinned at Boe. “The midday meal today was delicious.”

  Boe was so pleased he beckoned her over to his stove to show her what was planned for the evening meal, but Marahl intervened and they made a hasty exit.

  Elora grinned to herself at the chef’s excitement as they walked through the corridors. So far, he was the only one who showed any enthusiasm or even any interest for somebody new in the lair, yet he was working just as hard as everyone else.

  Her good mood didn’t go unnoticed.

  “You like meeting people,” Marahl observed.

  “I do,” Elora said with a smile. “I think people make life easier most of the time.”

  Marahl smiled. “They certainly can make things interesting.”

  “Everyone seems interesting so far,” Elora said. “I’d love to meet them when they’re not working.”

  Marahl lifted a shoulder. “You could try,” she remarked, “but it would probably be impossible.”

  Elora silently took that as a challenge. However, it was the stewards who ran and organized the lair, and she didn’t want to upset them. “Would you or the other stewards mind?”

  “Our primary concern is that everyone does their part to maintain the lair. Their duties must not be disrupted.”

  Elora nodded. “Will I get to meet the other stewards?”

  “Not today,” Marahl said. “But yes you will meet them eventually.”

  When Elora returned to her room, a melancholy mood tugged at her good spirits. She sat on her bed, thinking about the main differences between the two lairs. Going to the chest that held her few belongings, she pulled them all out and looked at them; two paintings, fabrics and needles for her embroidery, her favorite tunics, and the book Nureen had given her, while the Dao table sat next the chest…. They were symbols of her pastimes and contributions at the other lair, and each one would be considered unimportant here.

  She felt sorry for the beast’s servants, not only because their day consisted of work from the moment they woke up to the moment they retired, but because they hadn’t experienced the joy in just relaxing. She’d been lucky to have been in that lair. Maybe if she’d arrived here first, she would be as exhausted and as overworked as everyone else, and she wouldn’t have known different. Would she have thought herself lucky?

  Elora got busy decorating her room, finding a way to hang the paintings, painstakingly setting up all the pieces on the Dao table, putting the little figurine that Tiiu gave her on the table, and fixing the book on the shelf next to her table. It didn’t make the room suddenly feel like home, but it definitely looked more like her space.

  She practiced playing Dao, moving the pieces precisely and carefully to various positions until she was tired of it. There was no point in practicing so hard if there was no one to play against. Sitting back in the chair, her eyes drifted up to the book that Nureen had given her. She grabbed it and cuddled up on the bed to read it, once again inwardly groaning at the ache between her legs.

  When she opened the book, tears came to her eyes reading the first page.

  Dear Elora,

  I know learning to read is your strongest passion, apart from being an amazing friend, and you were doing very well before you left here. I’m not sure if your new home will have a library as extensive as ours, but in light of where you’re going, I wanted to make sure you would be as prepared as possible.

  I have scoured the library for any stories about Zendyor that you might find useful. I’mya allowed me to use some of the books about the dragorai that she keeps in her private chambers, and she even asked a couple of the stewards some questions.

  I have written out all the stories with increasing difficulty so that you can, firstly and most importantly, practice your reading and secondly learn about what has been said about your new master.

  Keep in mind that I do not know if all of these stories are true. But even if they’re not, they are still entertaining and worth practicing your reading.

  I miss you already. Love from us all.

  Nureen

  Elora flicked through the book to see pages and pages of Nureen’s neat handwriting with story after story about the beast, each one stating where she got the story from as well as her own little comments and reactions to them. It must have taken her hours. She brushed away her tears. Only Nureen was kind and thoughtful enough to do something like this for her. Maybe she’d been more worried about Elora than she admitted, but either way it might help her immensely in dealing with the beast.

  It seemed now that being accepted into the lair rested on him giving her a role. She would have to ask him if he could do that soon.

  She took a halting breath at the idea. The thought of being in the same room as him sent a nervous pang in her stomach. How was she supposed to convince him of anything?

  She lay on her bed and began reading.

  A few hours later, the mountain began to shake again, and Elora gripped her bed and waited for it to stop. The defined thuds rocked through the bed, and she realized the thuds were less of a tremble and more a series of thumps, as though somebody was banging against the mountain. Once again, it didn’t last very long, but her heart was still racing. When the thudding finally quieted, she sat quietly and waited to see if Marahl would come to collect her. She hoped she wouldn’t. Her body still ached and she wasn’t ready to try to talk to him.

  But a little while after the noises stopped, Marahl appeared at the door. Elora followed her again up the sloped corridors and to the upper part of the mountain to his chambers.

  When she entered this time, she headed straight to the bed and sat down on it, back straight, hands in her lap, and watched the door.

  If he entered in the state he was in last time, she wasn’t sure how she was going to talk with him. He’d been completely wild and not able to listen or reason with her, but she had to try.

  When she heard the bang of the door, she took a deep breath and straightened, her heart pounding once again at the sight of him.

  Again, he was drenched in blood with only his lower half dressed. He was already heading toward Elora, his jaw clenched, dark eyes on her, the same fierce expression on his face.

  She took a breath. “My lord, I need to speak to you.”

  The beast kept coming and the closer he came the more nervous she got.

  “My lord—”

  His scent reached her first, enticing that part of her that was compelled by it. Elora held herself still, forcing herself not to react, but it was impossible. Every nerve in her body hummed with anticipation, her core clenched and she licked her lips, her heart pounding faster the closer he came.

  When he reached the bed, he grabbed her, pulling her up into his arms in one swift move and fixed her legs around his waist.

  “My lord, I need to—”

  Holding her firm against him, one large hand spread beneath her bottom, he ripped away her tunic. Elora yelped, gripping onto his flexing arms to make sure she didn’t fall. His aggression thrilled her almost as much as it frightened her.

  “When you enter this room, I want you naked,” he growled, his frown making the demand seem like a threat.

  “I need to talk to you,” Elora said, trying to take advantage of his willingness to speak.

  The beast brushed his hand over her inner thighs, reaching for her slit. Her slick was already dripping, and it coated his fingers as he played with the bundle tucked within her folds. At the same time, he pressed his nose along her jawline and dipped down to her neck to lap it with his tongue. Elora shuddered, the multiple sensations swarming her becoming almost impossible to resist. She gripped onto h
im harder. “Please. It is important.”

  “You may speak to me on my knot,” the beast said finally. A gleam entered his eyes. “If you are able to remain awake.”

  Elora frowned at him, but his blunt cock prodded at her entrance and she tensed knowing what was to come.

  He nibbled at her neck, pricking her with his teeth and lapping along her sensitive skin to kiss behind her ear. She relaxed, allowing him to hold her up. In that moment he eased her down onto him, filling her up in a long and seemingly never-ending stroke, stretching her wide, as her legs flailed and her body twitched with discomfort.

  Elora gasped, barely able to think while impaled with such enormous thickness. But when he began to move her back and forth on him, rotating her hips as he squeezed her ass, every thought, every concern she had fell away.

  He worked her hard, plundering between her legs as she dug her nails into his biceps, her toes curled tight as the addictive euphoria spiraled up her core, stiffening her nipples and coaxing out moans and grunts she didn’t recognize as her own.

  And it wasn’t just her; the beast’s sultry rasp, sometimes punctuated by a string of words from his language, kept her tuned into him. Raising into a crescendo that she couldn’t escape from, Elora climaxed. Hot, burning, consuming, slimy and raw, Elora was a mass of fleshy sensations, unable to maintain her sanity.

  Then they were on the bed, and hours passed. He opened her up, twisting her into the most obscene positions, shunting himself inside her as he grunted and roared with pleasure, biting her nipples, squeezing the fleshy flabs of her thighs. Elora could feel his pleasure within her own. When his tongue grazed her bundle, her stomach, her neck—when he made her moan and twist and arch for more, his satisfaction was evident in his sharp intake of breath, and the rumble emitting from the back of his throat.

  When he finally knotted her, a thought surfaced at the back of her mind, urging her to remember, but surrounded by the warmth of his body, she was unable to resist the lure of blissful oblivion.