by Lisa Oliver
“How do you stand to be mated to all that fur? Ivak’s not a full dragon, he’s…”
“Gorgeous. Talented. Skilled. Sexy. And did I mention powerful?” Byron chuckled. “Ivak takes after his father in one way, not that I’d ever mention it to him. He’s known I was his mate for five years, and yet he never came near me. I didn’t even know he existed as such, having only caught a glimpse of him almost eleven years ago and he didn’t notice me then. He set Petrov up to keep an eye on me, and didn’t make himself known to me until I was crawling out of the coffin that dead schmuck had arranged for me to die in. But he’s taken to commitment really well, considering. Petrov is a good man. Very loyal.”
“I never dreamed I’d find a mate of my own.” David brushed back the king’s hair from his face. “I remember when Ivan was a young lad, and I’ve been loyal to him for more years than I care to count. This is all very…” He broke off, his eyes blinking rapidly.
“Petrov has broad shoulders. He’ll help you get through this.” Byron sighed. “You know, it wasn’t that long ago I believed the whole ‘dragons are superior’ bullshit fed to me by my father. But it is bullshit. Dirk is mated to a German Shepherd shifter and the two men are raising their hybrid son together. My other brother Sammy is mated to a vampire, also deliriously happy. And so am I. Well, I will be when me and Ivak get five minutes to spend on our own together. But you need to remember, our mates complete us in every way. The Fates don’t make mistakes.”
“I’m worried it’s going to take time to change the thinking and ideals of a long lifetime,” David admitted.
“You don’t have time,” Byron chuckled. “Wolf shifters are hellishly possessive and protective. And besides, as I learned – changing your mind is as simple as changing your thought process – something that can be done in a split second if you really want to do it. Embrace the gift the Fates have blessed you with. Don’t question it, just go with it.”
David looked like he wanted to say more, but Ivak chose that moment to come back in, followed by Petrov and a half a dozen people in overalls. “Clean up that mess, please,” Ivak indicated the remains of his cousin, “and then ensure we’re not disturbed by anyone until we call.”
“Yes, your majesty.” The cleaners bowed and scurried to their gruesome task. Dragging another chair over, Ivak sat next to Byron, silently contemplating the dying king.
/~/~/~/~/
Fucking calling me majesty. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ivak knew he should feel some element of grief for the man dying on the bed beside him, but he was too busy fuming. He and Petrov had scared a half a dozen servants, running down the hallway in their wolf form seeking a bathroom, but the moment Ivak shifted, the servants’ demeanor completely changed. That might have had something to do with Ivak’s dragon, Radostnyy, his dragon reminded forcefully, who lurked under his skin, still hyped up from the fight – not that there was a lot of fight during Bertrand’s demise.
I’m going to be king. No fucking choice. And if I thought the threat level against my mate was bad before, it’ll get worse. Ivak wasn’t sure if Bertrand had family who’d avenge his death. He would find out – it’s what he did, but who knew how many other people lurked in the hidden corners of his father’s court hoping to stab him in the back.
His hand being taken, lifted and held was unusual in itself. The comfort Byron was able to offer with just a simple gesture was incredible. Unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer, Ivak let his gaze rest on the man on the bed.
My father... Dad... Pops... Daddy... No matter how he tried to frame their relationship in his head, Ivak couldn’t feel anything for the dying man. He knew everything there was to know about the king; his lovers, his now deceased children, his policies for ice dragons everywhere and even how he liked his breakfast served in the morning – two ham sandwiches lightly grilled served with a sprig of parsley, a side order of cheese and a large pot of strong black coffee.
But there had never been an emotional connection between the two men – not even between their dragons. Taking up Nikita’s offer to become a council assassin all those years ago was in part because of his father’s unexpected appearance. Ivak had been feeling rebellious against everything his father stood for… And now I’m in danger of becoming him.
“Prince Ivak,” David broke the silence. “I feel I should prepare you for what will happen once… once… oh, shit, this is so hard…” his voice broke off.
“My mate is overcome,” Petrov said gruffly, and Ivak looked across, surprised to see David’s head covered by Petrov’s biceps. “He is a caring man and has probably been with the king a long time.”
“David’s whole life has been in service to the crown,” Byron said quietly, glancing fondly at his friend. “The king’s death will be devastating to him.”
“I am okay, and I’m still here so there’s no need to talk about me as though I’m not.” David pushed himself off Petrov who glared but let him go. “I’m sorry. This is difficult for me, yes. Ivan has been a friend of mine for a very long time. But he would want me to ensure Prince Ivak’s takeover goes as smoothly as possible.”
“Are there likely to be any challenges?” Ivak didn’t give a shit about any other protocol, or ritual being king might mean he had to go through. As king, he could decide that for himself.
“It’s possible,” David admitted with a sideways glance at Petrov who immediately reached out and took David’s hand in his. “The king never had favorites, never favored any person or family in the court more than others, but Bertrand does have a father and son still living. They are the only family members who might object.”
“But will there be others outside of the family?” Byron said urgently. “David, you said yourself, Ivak needs to be prepared and the king would want you to warn him. If this is going to be a shitfest, with a dozen families all deciding Ivak is too different to be king, then fuck the lot of them. We’ll leave now while the king is still living and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
Ivak chuckled, well aware of how inappropriate it might be, but he was finding his new mate surprising in so many ways. “You’re so supportive, moya lyubov’, but I would fight them all first, kill them all, and then tell the remainder to go fuck themselves as you so eloquently put it.”
“I’m just looking forward to being curled up in a decent bed with my honey and being able to sleep in in the morning. It’s got to be four o’clock in the morning by now and I can’t remember the last time we slept.”
“I’ll make it a decree, as soon as I am king not to be disturbed before at least ten thirty in the morning daily.” Ivak lifted a finger, listening as his dragon came through. “Hold fast. Our dragons are about to get noisy. David, I am so sorry for your loss.”
Bowing his head, Ivak closed his eyes, as the wails of thousands of dragons filled his mind – all showing their grief at the passing of a king. While Ivak had never known the man, he had been loved, and the grief was almost tangible. Petrov howled, and the fire dragon enforcers all dropped to their knees as one, their fists thumping their heart. It was over. The king was dead and Ivak hadn’t even had a chance to say any of the words trapped in his heart.
We will rule, Radostnyy said firmly. Our clan all kneel before me, and you will not let them down.
We don’t have a clan, Ivak sent back, keeping his head bowed.
You’re right. We have an empire.
Fucking brilliant, Ivak sent back harshly. If you intend for me to rule, then you’d better keep those bastards in line. You can warn them, if they try anything against me or our mate at all, they’ll be joining their beloved king on the other side and then I’ll leave the lot of them to rot.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Fuck.” Byron ducked his head under the shower water, and then brushed his hair off his face with his hand. He didn’t remember ever being so tired and yet Ivak was off with Petrov and David, hunting down the person responsible for trying to poison them when they arrived. Elders ha
d arrived, some sort of council Ivan had used to do most of the work, to verify the death and lay Ivan out in state in the throne room. His body would lie there for three days before he would be buried, so that visiting dignitaries could pay their respects. Immediately after that Ivak would be crowned king.
Hey, are you all right?
Byron jumped when he heard Dancer in his head. “I’m fine,” he said, reaching out blindly for the soap. “Just exhausted. How are you getting on with Radostnyy and the wolf?”
We are bonded. All is well. Radostnyy is sending his power out all over the place. Lesser dragons can’t bow fast enough.
“I’m glad someone is having fun.” Byron soaped himself quickly. All he wanted was to sleep.
We were talking and I was thinking, how would you feel if Ivak was pulled into our dreamscape?
“He’s our mate.” Byron rinsed himself off and shut off the water, reaching for a towel. The consort suite in the castle was well-appointed, despite having never been used. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind, but I doubt he’ll be as much of a fan of mud slides as I am.”
He will learn. Radostnyy says he must relax more. Chill out.
Byron was brushing his teeth, so he answered through their mind link. I totally agree, especially now, but as I don’t even know when he’s coming to bed, don’t be disappointed if it takes a few days to happen.
Ivak’s coming now, but he doesn’t want to sleep just yet. By the way, the wolf’s name is Opekun, the guardian. Have fun.
Byron spit and rinsed his mouth. “Opekun, I like it.” He grinned at his reflection in the mirror. Tired, a few dark spots under his eyes, but he’d do. Wrapping the towel around his hips, Byron wandered through into the main bedroom. Ivak was already there tugging off his boots.
“I’ve arranged rooms for the guards sent by your brother,” Ivak said, a small smile gracing his face. “I feel it’s best they stay until after the coronation. After that, we’ll hire our own protective detail, aside from the palace guard.”
“Things that bad here?” Byron sauntered across, keeping his movements deliberately slow. There might have been a bit of hip swaying going on, and his cock was definitely testing the limits of his towel. Byron didn’t think he had the energy to do anything sexual, but his cock had a different opinion.
“I think we need to shake things up a bit.” Ivak’s voice took on a husky tone as Byron got closer. “Too many stuffy people around here have run things their own way for too long.” He reached for Byron who closed the distance between them willingly. “Your support means everything to me. When you said we’d just leave, not once, but twice… fuck, I love that smell.” Ivak buried his nose in the dent of Byron’s hip as his towel fell to the floor.
“I love how you smell me,” Byron groaned, hitching his hips slightly. “Wait. Your people. Will they accept a male fire dragon as consort?”
“Fuck them if they don’t.” Byron was propelled through the air, landing on his back on the bed, Ivak looming over him. “We will not be isolating ourselves here like the previous king did. We will set up systems. We will make sure we’re aware of everything they do, but they will not own us, nor will anyone dictate what we do, or where we go. You and I… we might even take a holiday.” A click of his fingers and Ivak was gloriously naked, his need pulsing with every bob of his cock. “I need to fuck my consort.”
Byron did some reaching of his own, pulling Ivak’s body down on top of him. “I prefer it, in here, that I am moya lyubov, rather than just a consort to fuck,” He growled softly. “Gods, you could bring my body back from the dead, I need you so much.”
“Don’t jest about your death.” Ivak’s mouth descended, and Byron surrendered, his mate’s power flooding the room. Byron tried to calm his mate, soothe him, gentle him somehow with his lips and hands, but Ivak’s lips were devastating to his resolve and the grip Ivak had on his shoulders would leave bruises.
“I need you,” Ivak wrenched his mouth away, panting hard, his eyes almost glowing. “Don’t you understand, I need you. You, so calm and friendly, caring and kind. Me, I’m not like that. I’m cold. I’m mean. I’m hard, but gods, I need you so badly and I don’t know how to show you that.”
Taking the initiative, Byron rolled his mate until he was on top. “Then let me show you,” he said, as he bent to lock lips with Ivak again.
/~/~/~/~/
Ivak needed to lose himself. The grief over his father’s death hit him as he was firing a pastry chef, ordering him to pack his bags and leave the castle for his part in poisoning the food supplied when they’d arrived. He’d barely faltered, staying firm, trusting his brother while the head chef wrung his hands and claimed his boy wouldn’t do such a thing. The chef was wrong, Petrov was right, something that was proven when the footman turned nasty in his defense of the pastry chef. He was gone too.
But the grief. Ivak never felt anything so strong, and even though his logical mind told him it was simply grief over a relationship he wished he had with the dead king, it didn’t make it any easier to handle. As soon as he could, he left Petrov and David together, ordered accommodation to be found for the enforcers and headed for where he knew Byron would be waiting for him.
His mate in a towel? A perfect excuse for acting like a caveman, but Ivak wanted more than physical relief for an aching cock. He was desperate to break through the blanket of grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He tensed, he cried out, he… didn’t have the words.
“Hush,” Byron’s calm voice broke through his fog. “I’ve got you. I’m taking care of you.”
No one took care of Ivak. No one ever had, not even his mother beyond the basics of life and even then, that was because for the longest time she longed to be a queen. But there was Byron, soothing him with neck nibbles, stroking the tension from his shoulders, rocking his hips gently between the gap in Ivak’s legs, teasing his cock with his own. A gentle pinch of Ivak’s nipple was swiftly followed by the warm suction of a skilled mouth. Firm hands mapped a path down Ivak’s torso, gentling and arousing him all in one go.
I need lube, and because he was now king with boosted powers, lube appeared in Ivak’s waiting hand. Fumbling, because Byron was on an agenda of his own, Ivak managed to pop the cap and coat the right fingers. Now, if only Byron would stop moving his hips long enough for him to find his target. A gentle slap on a muscled butt, and Byron groaned, swapping his attention to Ivak’s other nipple.
Should I? Could I? No, Ivak knew he was too on edge to tease a mate who’d been nothing but good to him. Instead, he honed in on his goal, his mate’s tight hole. Byron’s opening his legs helped, and as Ivak pushed one finger in, Byron arched up, pushing back with his butt. Ivak knew his mate was exhausted, but he could feel a growing need in Byron too – that same need for connection, for knowing even when the world was going to hell, they had each other.
I have my person. And that was it. That single realization banished Ivak’s gloom, the grief, and confusion. Flipping them over, Ivak finished his prep in record time, determined to penetrate his mate face to face for the first time ever.
It was worth it. Ivak had never been a fan of face to face with anyone, because of the intimacy involved. The position made it impossible to ignore the face, the expressions, the sheer love blazing from Byron’s eyes. Byron was right there with him, lifting and holding his legs apart so his ass was tilted just right. The push in – Ivak felt the deep swell in his lower belly and the answering thump in his heart.
The act was different somehow – more. Wanting to prolong the experience Ivak kept his movements slow, pulling out partially with reluctance, feeling how Byron’s body rippled around him as he pushed back in. The pressure was incredible, every part of his cock gripped, held, squeezed.
And through the steady pace, Ivak watched every fleeting emotion on his mate’s face. The scrunch of his eyes as Ivak pushed in, the twist of his lips when Ivak nudged that sensitive spot, the warm red blush on Byron’s cheeks and the way his nostrils f
lared as he tried to control his breathing. Their joined scents were becoming more familiar to him now, and Ivak inhaled taking in their arousal, their joining, their connection. His hips sped up.
We are one, Byron’s voice trickled through his mind. Always. You are mine.
Ivak groaned, his orgasm blindsiding him. Everything he didn’t realize he wanted – everything he didn’t realize he needed – summed up so perfectly. As his spunk pulsed into his mate’s body, Ivak dropped his chest, trusting Byron would hold him, his belly encountering a sticky dampness as their bodies met. “Babe. Babe.”
“It’s okay,” Byron said, his voice deep with emotion. “I’ve got you.” And the strength of Byron’s arms backed up his words.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I’m not wearing that.” The white gold tiara was beautiful, but it was definitely designed for a queen. Byron shook his head. “I don’t care what you are ready to tell me about tradition, consorts, or anything else, I am not wearing a lady’s headpiece to my mate’s coronation. So, forget it.”
David sighed. Something he’d been doing a lot of in the days since the king’s death. Ivak wasn’t making things easy on anyone, barely speaking to any of the dignitaries that arrived from every corner of the world to pay their respects to the late king. His feeling was, if the bastards couldn’t be bothered to speak to him before, he had no time for them now.
Now, Ivak was being dressed and counseled by the elders, while Byron was stuck in a side room with David. “Go and see what the others are doing,” he suggested. “I’m sure Petrov is missing you, and Ivak is probably ready to kill someone right now.”
“It’s best I stay here,” David said with a sideways glance at the door. “You and I are friends and I can’t imagine what you’re going through, having to let Ivak meet all the potential surrogates for your offspring…”
