by Ophelia Bell
For the first time Roka regretted not asking Camille and Eben to come with them. At the very least, they would have had willing and available partners to keep the dragons going, even if it meant carrying more supplies.
Rafe sat back on his heels, arms hanging limply at his sides. Roka stood before him, looking down in sympathy at the pleading look his friend gave him.
“Help me, please,” Rafe whispered.
Roka knelt in front of his friend and reached for him. Rafe let himself be pulled into the guardian’s embrace and wrapped his arms around Roka in desperation. The intensity with which Rafe surrendered was nearly heartbreaking in its contrast to his resistance a moment earlier. Rafe’s hot, soft mouth sought out Roka’s, Rafe’s hands reaching up to tangle in Roka’s long, sleek hair. Roka gasped at the invasion of tongue and the clash of their teeth. His cock surged back to life and he groaned when Rafe gripped it tightly, stroking insistently. Rushing would do neither of them any good, however. The more they let the well of magic build up before releasing their Nirvana, the more energy the other would have access to. Not to mention, the more pleasurable the experience would be.
“Slow down,” Roka whispered, pulling Rafe’s hand away from his cock. “You want to be strong when we find her, don’t you?”
“I need a taste now,” Rafe growled. “I’m losing it.” His skin shimmered with the emergence of obsidian scales that didn’t subside, and shimmering black horns coiled up from his brow, their shine reflecting the blood-red of the sunset so vividly Roka almost wondered if his friend had spontaneously changed colors.
Roka pushed him back down to the ground and followed, sliding his tongue between Rafe’s lips in a promise of what was to come.
“I will take care of you,” Roka said, sliding down Rafe’s body, the wet trail of his tongue turning to crackling ice as he went. The snow beneath them had melted and frozen again, leaving them in a slippery depression. Roka dug his toes in for purchase, like it was sand on a beach, and took Rafe fully into his mouth. At the same time, Roka gripped his own cock and stroked, his rising need acting as a magnet to the residual magic in the air. There was always more of it, the trails of invisible power a web that linked them all to their origin. To The Mother, wherever she existed. The power was doled out in strictly governed rations by the Council, who acted as conduits between Her infinite power and the rest of the race. He couldn’t think about those lingering issues now, however. He focused on simply absorbing what he could to give it to his friend tonight.
Rafe’s hips bucked against him and Roka gripped the other man tightly behind his knees, pushing his legs wide, his knees against his chest. Rafe allowed himself to be handled, giving over fully to Roka.
The thick, hot length of Rafe’s cock throbbed in Roka’s mouth. The Shadow was already on the verge of orgasm, so Roka pulled back, watching the glistening column slap back against Rafe’s stomach, his saliva hardening into a crystalline mesh for only a second before melting away again due to the man’s increasing heat. Rafe’s heavy sac tightened beneath Roka’s kiss. The Shadow sighed and placed both large hands on Roka’s head when he darted his long tongue out to lick and suck each delicate globe into his mouth. Rafe jerked at the subsequent invasion of Roka’s tongue between his ass cheeks and deeper. Roka gripped his thighs tighter to hold him still.
“Oh, fuck, I need you. I’ll take anything you can give me. Everything. Please just give it to me!”
Roka’s mouth quirked as he looked up at Rafe. He loved the man’s desperation and would have enjoyed a little bit of torture at this point, something he knew Eben loved to have inflicted on him. But Roka knew better in this case. Rafe truly did need what he was about to receive. Satisfied his friend was slick enough to accommodate Roka, he pressed his cock to Rafe’s ass and pushed. Rafe’s head flew back into the snowy ground and he cried out as Roka sank in to his hot depths. Rafe’s tight opening clenched and pulled, constricting so hard Roka almost lost his mind. Then his friend relaxed and Roka pulled out slowly. He groaned as the tightness returned, clutching at the tip of his cock. Roka spread his knees to gain better traction in the ice and dug his bare feet deeper. The cold cut of the rough snow was the perfect counterpoint to the hot pleasure surging into him in the form of the magic his desire attracted. He fucked harder and the wind kicked up around them both, as though their need created a pocket of low pressure, sucking every bit of spare power to them in a swirling cyclone. Roka’s hair whipped around his face violently, but he could still see Rafe’s back arch up in ecstasy, his dark eyes locked in a needful gaze on Roka’s face.
The power flowed through him in a tingling deluge, but seemed to catch, as it always did, just at the base of his spine. He held back, on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm but waiting as long as he could until the energy reached the point of overflowing. It was always that sensation of being too full that he loved. Full of power as tangible and unrelenting as the squeeze of Rafe’s ass around his shaft, but this time it pushed harder at his restraint, as though Rafe’s empty well was a vacuum seeking to be filled. When it reached that point, Roka held his breath and stopped abruptly, every muscle quivering. He leaned over Rafe, bracing both hands on either side of his friend’s torso.
Rafe’s face was illuminated by the spill of glowing magic emanating from Roka’s eyes, white hot and bright as the sun. The dark-eyed face rose up, hands clasped the back of Roka’s neck. Roka let himself be pulled down, the kiss a hungry signal of encouragement. Roka groaned against the kiss and pumped his hips. Once—the plunge of his cock so deep his hips clapped against Rafe’s as loud as thunder. Twice—the friction against Roka’s cock lit a fire that quickly seared through the barrier between the magic and his will to hold it back. The third stroke sent him over and he plunged his cock deep, dimly aware of the harsh cry coming from his throat as he came in hot spasms. He lost himself to the flush of all that power singing through him as brisk and violent as wind whipping through a canyon, carrying him soaring along with it. He let the magic carry him as he had the strong currents of air and magic they had flown upon to reach this place. When it began to subside, he let himself drift back to solid ground, to the feel of the warm body beneath him, arms wrapped around him and skin shimmering with fresh power.
He pulled back slowly and collapsed to the side, relishing the cold crunch of the snow beneath him, helping to regulate his heated temperature.
“Was it too much for you?” he asked, taking note of Rafe’s dazed and lethargic expression. His friend looked a little drunk. The lack of focus when Rafe sat up and turned to face him only served to emphasize that impression.
Rafe let out a low chuckle. “You didn’t even come close to what she can do, my friend. It’s like she’s made of the stuff. Her trail may seem strong here, but she’s much farther ahead than the remnants of her magic would lead you to believe. That small taste of her magic was the best thing I could have had tonight though, so thank you for that.”
Roka raised up on an elbow. “You said she was inexperienced, that you unlocked her magic. Was she a virgin, then?”
“No. At least not physically. She’d only been with human men before. I’ve been wondering about it ever since, but even she didn’t know her origins—who her real parents were, and for good reason. Someone wanted her hidden badly enough to bind her magic so that even she wasn’t aware of it. But it only took one look at her for me to know. It wasn’t magic I sensed, but some other, more subtle energy she had, that I’ve only seen in other dragons.” Rafe paused, his eyes skimming over Roka’s face and body.
Roka looked down at himself, conscious of the details his friend was taking in. His hair and eyes weren’t the least of it. They all had a bearing and attitude that made them stand out even next to the most striking humans, regardless of how they concealed it through magic. A dragon whose magic was bound would not stand out to an unobservant dragon, but a Shadow like Rafe would be attuned to those kinds of subtle cues.
“Your curiosity got the bett
er of you, I take it,” Roka said. He understood the way a Shadow worked. Anything that had the scent of a secret caught their attention to the point they couldn’t let it go until they uncovered every nuance and shed a light in every dark corner.
“I took a chance. The first time we made love, I could feel her magic reaching out, trying to break free. It was my first time with another dragon. I had no idea what would happen. It blew my mind and I nearly shifted completely the first time. I didn’t even have to reach Nirvana before she was pulling every bit of magic I had in reserve. I don’t think she even realized what she was capable of.”
“Fucking you felt something like that,” Roka said. “Well, almost. With Eben and Cammy, it feels like they’re merely open to me, ready to give but not devouring me in return. Your need almost broke me.”
“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, eyeing Roka’s groin again.
“Don’t be. You needed it and I was happy to give.” He lay back against the snow, staring at the star-speckled sky. It was full night, but the white of the snow made it seem unnaturally bright, particularly since Rafe’s skin still emitted a luminescent glow.
Rafe sighed deeply. Roka sensed a hint of tension in his friend a second before the caress began. The light brush of a hand at his hip startled him because Rafe hadn’t moved from his slouching seated position, arms resting on his knees. Roka glanced at him and their gazes met again, Rafe’s dark eyes flashing with violet magic. Roka closed his eyes and let out a low moan when the warmth of an invisible palm cupped his balls and squeezed gently.
The Shadow’s signal was wordless, a mere nudge of that incorporeal hand urging him onto his side. Then Rafe’s real hands were on him, growing more urgent with each touch. An arm slipped across Roka’s hip, a hand gripping his erection tightly and stroking, then pushing him onto his stomach. The cold snow bit into his cheek, but the rough friction only stimulated his aroused flesh more. He spread his legs at Rafe’s urging and raised his hips up slightly. The caress and squeeze of hands magnified as though there were several exploring his body at once. One pair on his ass, kneading and invading with gentle prodding. Another pair between his thighs, stroking his cock and balls. Yet another caressing the rest of him. He was still acutely aware of Rafe’s presence behind him, readying him for fucking. The simultaneous sensations were akin to the cyclone he’d been in earlier. Magic quickly coalesced around them, surging through him with every stroke of the shadowy hands.
Sweet Mother, he’d heard what Shadows could do but had never experienced it himself. The plunge into the abyss was simultaneously instantaneous and everlasting, his climax stronger than before, now that Rafe channeled the Nirvana from the intricate, ethereal web of power that surrounded them. For one surreal moment he was sure the glow that emanated from them and reflected off the snow was the sun breaking over the horizon, that they’d been tangled up with each other for hours, riding the waves of Nirvana together.
If the young Red they searched for had made Rafe feel better than this, it was no wonder he was so desperate to find her.
Chapter 5
Camille found it comforting to work by lantern light and spent her evenings in the dark, ancient vaults of the Monastery as much to work as to avoid Eben’s increasingly contradictory moods. The cool, shadowy space, combined with the sweet, dusty scent of the tomes in front of her lent a nostalgia to the process. It helped that she was dressed in the simple, timeless linen undergarments and draped in the lightweight robes that all the monks wore. The clothing was so voluminous that it easily concealed her figure, the only telling attribute of her gender her long, blond hair bound in its perpetual braid.
The thick rope of it fell over her shoulder and brushed across the faded page of calligraphy in front of her. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was, but she hadn’t bothered to bring a watch to the vaults with her, or any other piece of technology for that matter. The most modern thing she had was her simple loose-leaf notebook and mechanical pencil that she used to transcribe her translations.
Erika and Geva had done some initial work before she had arrived, identifying the most likely sources of useful details by the gilded artwork they contained. It was Camille’s job now to decipher the stories that went along with those drawings and illuminated text. She was abstractly reminded of the night in the temple when she had uncovered the purpose of the ritual. Only this time she felt oddly devoid of the desire that had driven her that long ago night to sacrifice her maidenhead to the inanimate figure of Roka, the Guardian.
The realization of her lack of libido depressed her. She thought of what she had said to Eben the night they had arrived here, and was gripped with an irrational pang of jealousy. It was her own fault if she drove him back into Erika’s arms. Erika would probably understand how he felt. The very vocal leader of their team hadn’t been shy about sharing her philosophies of life, one of which was that life was too short to spawn offspring who might hate you anyway. It made no sense because Erika had loved her own father fiercely, from what Camille could tell in other, more maudlin moments during their quest. Either way, a woman as driven and ambitious as Erika would undoubtedly prefer a childless life.
Camille, on the other hand, had always wanted kids. She’d been the only child of a Nebraska farmer and his high-school sweetheart. She had wondered why her parents never had more, until her mother confessed to having complications after Camille’s birth that required her to have a hysterectomy. In a sense, Camille had been blessed because she’d grown up with foster brothers and sisters—her parents’ attempt at sharing their love and their need to nurture a younger generation. She was still close with many of those surrogate siblings, though she hadn’t spoken to any of them in almost a year.
It had been an entire year, she suddenly realized. A year since Erika had assembled her team to begin the search for the temple. A year since Eben had walked into that bar where they had met and proceeded to torture her with his tense silence until he finally confessed he had loved her all along but was too overwhelmed by it to even speak to her. He’d been giving her the silent treatment for the last three weeks again, but for entirely different reasons. She just hoped like hell the reasons wouldn’t end up destroying them.
Camille shook her head to dispel the unsavory thoughts and focused more closely on the ancient text in front of her, turning the pages with gentle reverence. The third volume of the stack of tomes she was researching came from an Italian village during the middle ages. The text was difficult to read, but she found the gilded decorations around it gave her clues to its context. She had always loved illuminated manuscripts. So much that they had been the topic of her master’s thesis. But these were far older than any others on record. Though they resembled some that she had studied as an undergrad, the language was far different from the Latin that graced the pages of the manuscripts she had studied in college.
She turned the page and stared at the twin dragons that graced the margins of the page. The top of the page had a vivid green symbol that she quickly sketched into her own notebook. It was a circle, with six dragons swirling around inside, tails entwined.
“The Verdanith,” she whispered, and had to restrain herself from reaching out to touch it. This page might contain the clues they were seeking, and after three weeks of looking, she almost regretted that her part in the search might soon be over. She began reading and painstakingly transcribing every word into English, reworking the structure into coherent sentences. A piece of the missing fragment’s story came to life with every stroke of her pencil on the pages of her notebook. Still, it was only a piece, an incomplete map leading to another dead end. The lack of a complete story seemed suspicious to Camille, almost as though the Council wanted the fragment to stay lost.
***
A warm, water-saturated piece of meat was all Eben felt like when Erika and Geva finally arrived for their regular nightly bath. The pair glowed, literally, and he eyed them as though he were a little offended that they’d flaunt it.
Of course, this might be the only place in the world where it would be overlooked as natural.
He’d been introduced to the Unbound who lived here and knew one of the major functions of the place was to service dragons. The human men who lived here were all bonded to Kris and Issa, but not in the manner of mates. They were all on a spiritual quest and had the option of celibacy or service. Eben had been surprised at first how many of them actually chose celibacy. After one brief conversation with one of them it all made sense. Choosing to live in a place where your chief temptation was readily available, yet choosing to abstain, was the ultimate challenge to self-discipline. He almost envied those men for their restraint. On the other hand, he also felt a little sorry for them, particularly because he had spent the last few weeks as celibate as many of them.
Geva shed his linen drawstring pants and slipped into the water. He slid a wet hand through his short, red hair and eyed Eben with vivid green eyes. It was a different look for the large Red, but it suited him. Geva turned to watch Erika, lips parted and breath growing shallow.
Eben smiled at the man’s reaction to his lovely friend. She could do that to a man, effortlessly. She’d done it to him, in a time that felt like ancient history. Why he hadn’t fallen head over heels in love with her, he had no clue. There had been some fundamental connection they had missed. He didn’t regret the other connections they had made, though. If anything their relationship was sweeter for its lack of complication and its overabundance of honesty. So it amused him to no end to see what it looked like to be a man who was enraptured with his best friend.
And, God, if Erika didn’t work it. She took her time taking off her clothes to join them. First she shrugged out of the loose robe, then shed the linen top. She wore no bra underneath, and her dark brown waves cascaded down her back in a messy sprawl when she took the shirt off. She hung it on a nearby hook then bent down, back facing the hot pool, and tugged her pants over her hips.
