by Zoey Ellis
Before Zendyor could even add that he was going to check on Elora, Sethorn raised his hand. “We cannot go separately to all of our ranges,” he pointed out. “That is how we will be separated and killed. Wherever we go, it has to be together.”
Zendyor’s fury surged, while Nyro and Tyomar practically roared, both speaking at the same time.
“We will check them together, all of our ranges,” Khyros reassured them. “But we can only go one place at a time. We cannot put ourselves at risk by separating. That’s what they want.”
“Fine, let’s go to Nyro’s range first,” Tyomar said, although he was clearly worried. “His omega is pregnant.”
They all ran to the entrance, calling for their dan askhas, and Zendyor welcomed the furor that absorbed him when he was about to enter into battle, bracing himself that they could be fighting to protect the future of their kind. But for the first time, he had another to worry about, and that inspired a new inkling of dread to contend with.
He would always do what he needed to do for his clan and his family, which now included Elora.
“Whoever is doing this is going to fucking die today,” Nyro muttered, as he launched himself into the air, and Zendyor agreed as he followed.
10
Elora lay in bed, her limbs relaxed and her mind drifting. She didn't want to think, or move, or be disturbed in any way. Zendyor’s scent filled her nose, saturated in the sheets around her, his dried seed pungent on the blanket she pressed her nose into, but she was glad he was gone.
She'd heard him leaving in the middle of the night and his admission to Marahl that he was not going to give her a role or make her part of his staff. The betrayal only added to her desolation. She wasn't sure why he’d moved her into his chambers if he was never going to allow her to become part of his lair, but she had told him everything. He had forced it out of her, and he wasn’t going to honor his word.
She shouldn't be surprised. The only reason why she wasn’t dead yet was because he liked bedding her. Just like the Goddess, he had all the power because she so desperately wanted to stay. Her need to replace her community had made her vulnerable. Maybe she needed to rethink if she truly needed it.
The realization of what happened with the Goddess still rocked her, and when her mind was quiet, memories of the faces of her family filled her mind’s eye. She couldn’t stop the tears. The desolation was deep and consuming, and she tried her hardest to ignore it, to convince herself that it wasn’t her fault, but the more she was alone with her thoughts, the more she couldn’t see how she wasn’t at fault. It was her direct decision that led to their deaths, even if it was the Goddess who carried out the sentence.
The conversation with the Goddess played over in her mind and she tried to figure out where she went wrong, what she should have asked in order to avoid what happened, while still giving the Goddess what she wanted. But there was just too much she hadn’t known at that time.
As daybreak arrived, Marahl brought her food and tea and asked her who she wanted to invite to visit. Elora didn't respond. She didn’t know if she could trust Marahl—in fact, she knew she couldn’t when she first met her—and she seemed to have forgotten that.
In the afternoon, Marahl entered again with a few plates and a pot of lemon tea. "Telyssa would like to visit with you,” she said as she poured her a cup.
Elora stared at the ceiling.
"She is our lord’s kon'aya," Marahl said.
Elora lowered her head. "I’ve been trying to speak to her for months,” she said, her voice croaking. “No one knows where her quarters are or how to get in touch with her."
“She is based in a quieter, more secluded part of the lair," Marahl explained. "Not many of the servants would know or recognize her."
Elora frowned. That was a little odd. She debated whether she wanted to speak to her or not. She no longer needed insight into Zendyor behavior but maybe she could learn something. “I’ll see her.”
Telyssa arrived approximately an hour later. She stepped into the room, looking around curiously at everything, before seeing Elora sitting up in the bed. Elora had debated with herself about whether it would be appropriate to be in Zendyor's bed when his kon'aya arrived, but she didn’t feel like getting up. Her body felt heavy and lethargic and while she hoped she didn’t look too tired or disheveled, she didn’t really care if she did. "Good day," she said tentatively.
Telyssa stopped in the middle of the room. Ashkel had been right. Telyssa was very different in many ways. She appeared a bit older, had an angled face and fuller hips. Dark curly hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her green eyes watched Elora closely. She was clearly an omega, and very pretty indeed.
"To you too," Telyssa responded.
"I've been trying to meet with you for months."
"Why?"
Elora shrugged. “I thought it would be good to talk.”
Telyssa glanced around again. "I didn't realize that you were effectively a kon’aya until much later, otherwise I would have accepted your request."
Elora cocked her head. "Why wouldn't you accept it anyway?"
Telyssa’s eyes returned to her. "I heard that you were a criminal paying off your debt. I didn’t know what your intentions were, and I didn't want to be a target simply because I am our lord's kon'aya."
Elora bit her lip in thought. “Is that why you haven't been around the lair or joining any of the activities?" she asked. "Because of me?"
"Oh no," Telyssa said. "I have a secluded room in a different part of the lair."
So that was why no one had managed to find her. She eyed Telyssa carefully. She didn't look like the other servants who always looked exhausted and frantic. “You’re not on a schedule of duties like the other servants?"
Telyssa squinted at her with a coldness in her gaze. "No. My job is to be available to fuck him whenever he pleases.”
An odd feeling trembled in Elora’s stomach at the idea of this omega with Zendyor, but she pushed it aside, alarmed with herself.
“I can’t be exhausted from sweeping corridors when he’s expecting that,” Telyssa continued.
Her logic seemed reasonable, but Elora spent most days walking around the lair or working with the servants before seeing Zendyor, and he never had complaints about her being too tired. “It's very nice to meet you. I wanted to speak to someone about him for a while and you seem like the most relevant person."
"Yes, those of us he beds should probably stick together.” She stepped closer. “What did you want to talk about?”
That feeling twisted in Elora’s stomach again. "I’m not sure anymore,” she said. I’d wondered what his normal behavior was—if he behaved irrationally and unreasonably with you, and if he…" Elora wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to say. In the other lair, sex was talked about frequently, and the women were open about their experiences, but she didn't know how Telyssa was going to react or respond.
“He is very wild,” Telyssa said, after the silence stretched. “Like a primitive creature with demanding needs. But it is… very pleasurable if you just submit to it.”
The odd feeling twisted into something hot and ugly. The idea of her finding pleasure in Zendyor… or him finding pleasure in her. “When was the last time you bed him?” she asked tightly.
Telyssa shook her head. “Not for a while, a few years.”
Relief calmed the ugliness in her. “Really, that long?”
The kon’aya nodded. “His needs have urgent peaks and then quiet lulls. It’s been quiet for a long time, but I would be prepared if I woke up one night with his cock down my throat, or flipped over with a—”
“All right,” Elora growled, holding a shaky hand up. The part of her that reveled in Zendyor’s attentions was urging her to get off the damn bed and tear this threat standing before her apart. She was barely in control.
Telyssa let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be… inappropriate. We’re the only ones who really know…”
<
br /> Elora exhaled, forcing the disturbing feelings to calm. “Well, maybe not for much longer. He won’t make me a real kon’aya or a member of his staff.”
Telyssa looked at her strangely. “And you think that’s a bad thing?”
Elora frowned. “Of course. Aren’t you glad to be in a dragorai lair where you’re safe?”
Telyssa was quiet for a moment. “When I came here, I wasn't the only kon’aya. There were two others. He made use of them more frequently than he did me. In fact, they were his preferred choices for a long time. And yes, I loved being here back then, and I was very grateful to have escaped the queen and her barbaric regiment. Everyone here works hard and keeps to themselves, and I was well looked after.” She tilted her head, watching Elora closely. "A pattern I’ve noticed is that he seems to take his fill of something that is new and once it's over, he replaces them with something else."
Elora nodded. If it had been any other day she would have been upset and possibly terrified by that idea, but she’d already been thinking about the likelihood of that.
Telyssa continued. “After he tired of the other kon’ayas and moved onto me, they disappeared.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they disappeared. They used to have quarters on the same corridor as me and suddenly their rooms were empty. When I asked the stewards about it, they told me that they had been transferred to a different lair, but wouldn’t say where. Personally, I think they were dropped out on his range and hunted."
Elora's mouth dropped open. "Hunted?"
“By our lord and his dragon, yes.” Telyssa nodded. "That’s what I suspect.”
“Why? Why would he do that?”
“Why not? He is extremely vicious and he always needs new things to hunt. Why not members of staff whom you have no need for anymore?"
"No," Elora said, unwilling to believe it. "He has plenty of people who trespass on his property to hunt, he doesn't need to hunt his own staff."
Telyssa crossed her arms, locking Elora with an intense look. "Do you know why everyone works so hard? It's not because they have to or because they enjoy it."
"Why?" Elora asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"They work so hard because there are not enough staff," Telyssa said. "It takes everyone longer to do things because the lair is big and there are not enough people to do the jobs required."
Elora stared at her, wanting to deny it but recognized the truth to her words. When she first began helping everyone do their tasks, they had more free time. If there were more staff in the lair, it wouldn't be so taxing on the servants because the workload would be shared.
"It never used to be like this," Telyssa continued. "When I arrived years ago, the lair was fully staffed and people had normal workloads. The other kon’ayas and I used to be in charge of making, washing, and repairing robes. That was what we did almost all day, but we would do it together and take our breaks and lunches whenever we wanted. Now, everyone has to do everything alone and the amount of time it takes means that no one can ever talk." She looked at Elora pointedly. "That is by design. He keeps people so busy and separated no one notices when people go missing."
Elora squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe what she was hearing. Zendyor had never shown any particular interest in the servants, but neither had Nyro. It didn’t mean he was willing to kill them in such a horrific way.
"I will admit,” Telyssa said, “he rarely spoke when he was with me, but as someone he considers to have broken his rules, has he never made any reference to hunting people?"
He had. The first time he’d met her, but that was trespassers not his staff. “That can't work long-term,” Elora reasoned. “They need staff, and they need staff who know what they're doing. He cannot hunt them if the lair is to be run successfully."
"I know," Telyssa said. "But that doesn't mean he doesn’t. Can you think of anyone out in the war who wouldn’t want to come here?” She shrugged. “So the fact you are not officially a member of his staff is a blessing. You are under no obligation to any work agreement. In fact, you’re a prisoner— captured by him for being on his land. You are not committed to any role or position.”
Elora wrapped her arms around herself. "I just…. I cannot believe what you're saying."
"You don't have to," Telyssa said, that cold gaze in her eyes was back. "Once he tires of you, you will find out."
Something about the way she said it was strange. Elora watched her closely. Telyssa's eyes were bright, her fingers twitched against her thigh and she was slightly swaying from one foot to another.
"You’re scared," Elora said softly. "You don't need to be scared."
Telyssa's eyes widened. "Of course I'm scared! I don't know what's going to happen to me now that you've come along."
"Nothing is going to happen to you," Elora said calmly. "It’s been months that I‘ve been here and you’re still here too."
Telyssa stilled, a frown forming on her face. “I never thought of that.”
“I’m sure if he was going to do anything, he would have done it by now.”
Telyssa took a breath. “I suppose you’re right. I still think I should stay out of the way, though.”
Elora made a face. “Is that why you stay so secluded?”
She nodded. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”
The door opened and Marahl entered. “It’s time to go, Telyssa,” she said smiling. “Elora needs to rest.”
Telyssa nodded and turned back to Elora with a smile. “It was nice to meet you.”
“And you,” Elora said, returning her smile.
When they left, she dropped back on the bed, her mind whirling.
Her conversation with Telyssa had been revealing. Not because of the woman’s obvious paranoia, which had some basis in reason, but because it was clear now to Elora that she felt something for Zendyor. None of the kon’ayas in the Nyro’s lair felt ownership over their dragorai master, but there was a kinship between those who shared his bed—of course before I’mya. Yet it was making Elora furious to even think about Zendyor with another woman. When had this happened? When did she start to mistake his touch, his sultry kisses and his sinful pleasure to mean it was anything more than a physical act? Yes, there were true moments of tenderness in their interactions, like when he kissed her as though he was savoring everything about her or his expression when he watched her climax, taking no pleasure for himself as she unraveled on his tongue or thick fingers. Sometimes the way he looked at her made her preen. But none of that truly meant anything.
She couldn’t let that the person he forced her to become—that somewhat irritable omega obsessed with his scent and knot, the one who snapped at him and found reassurance whenever he brutally staked his claim—to delude her into thinking she was anything more than a criminal he was fucking to pay off a debt. If he had thought of her as more, he would have made her part of the lair, given her a role, or announced her as a new kon’aya. He would have done something to suggest a commitment to keeping her there. But he had done nothing. He’d even threatened her as recently as a couple of days ago—the day before she moved into his chambers—that he would send her back to the war. Why was she stupidly expecting she would be able to live happily among the servants? It wasn’t realistic with someone like Zendyor. She couldn't trust her own feelings or instincts about him, and in fact, he was using her need for community and companionship with the other servants against her, just like the Goddesses did. She was putting herself at risk again… was it worth it?
The question was, what could she do about it?
Telyssa implied she should leave, but where would she go? The other continent of the Twin Realms? Try her luck in the South? She sighed. The whole point of her living in a lair was to be safe from the war.
She closed her eyes and thought about her previous lair and all the friends she'd made. Once I’mya was recognized as Nyro’s mate, there had been no expectations of her, no forced trades. But that had bee
n luck. It wasn't something she could count on again. When she was leaving that lair, Nureen had told her to look after herself first, to be selfish sometimes. That was all Telyssa was trying to do—look after herself, and she would probably be more likely to survive because she had no one else. Who did Elora have? The servants wouldn’t defy their lord for her. Marahl couldn’t even convince him to grant her a position within the lair, even though she had tried. For all her attempts to be part of a community, it would never happen in Zendyor’s lair. She would never again have what she had with her faction, and her need for it made her a constant victim.
Elora dropped her head in her hands and sobbed. She sobbed for her family, for the servants in the lair, for her friends in Nyro’s lair, and for the deluded omega she’d been that led her to this point. Afterward, she felt better. Sitting up, she reached for the plates of food Marahl had brought her. If she was going to be selfish, she needed her energy.
Within hours she was dressed in layers of clothing and looking through her belongings to see if there was anything that she wanted to take with her.
The door was locked, of course, and when she looked around, there was only one way out of the room and that was through the opening to the mountain.
She held up her hand and pressed her palm forward to see if there was any kind of magical barrier. As she inched forward, a ripple spread out across the opening, but nothing stopped her hand from going straight through.
She peered down. It wasn’t steep; it would just take some careful climbing. It might take her a while, but she could do it. Tying together the tunic, robes, and sheets from her chest of drawers, plus what she could find in Zendyor's room, she created a long and secure rope. She tied one side to the leg of his desk and the other side around her waist and then she approached the edge of the window, the magical barrier cool on her skin. Turning, she crouched down, feeling for footing as she gripped onto the edge. And once she was secure, she began the climb.
"What do we have here?"
