The Dragon God's Kiss

by Ana Lee Kennedy

  His wings beat harder, his hips bumping against hers. Lowering his head, Drakyrr seized one of her nipples and grazed it with his teeth, tongue swirling and flicking until Ember thought she’d go mad. Cries of pleasure tumbled from her lips only to have the buffeting winds rip them away.

  Releasing her breast, he said, “Let me make you mine”—he licked the erect nub—“and I will pleasure you like this forever.”

  Even in the throes of ecstasy, Ember saw Sir Greensleeve’s dark, smiling eyes in her mind’s eye. If she couldn’t lie with him, she could still love him. She’d allow herself this last coupling to carry out her plan, and then return to him—somehow, some way. But if Sarenkesh could not have her body and soul, could not sate his appetites… No, he was one of the passionate Fae, so he’d be forced to find another who would give him what he desired. No man could love a woman for his entire life without sharing the carnal delights every couple enjoyed.

  Sorrow fluttered into her heart on dark wings of regret.

  Drakyrr grunted. He snaked one hand behind Ember’s back, the other clasping her ass. “I sense reason has returned to you. Your Gloaming Elf can never truly be yours.” He thrust harder. “But I will always be there for you, always love you, and will take your body to heavenly heights time after time.”

  Opening her eyes, Ember stared into Drakyrr’s. Lust flickered within their azure depths, but looking deeper, she saw deceit and Raya’s trickery in them. Despair filled her. How could she have allowed herself to become such a pawn upon the gods’ game board? Drakyrr’s false words were only meant to entice her into becoming one of Raya’s permanent game pieces.

  If she couldn’t have Sarenkesh, couldn’t share a life with him as a man and woman were meant to be, and if she was to put a stop to Raya’s grand scheme, then Ember had only one option. She must succeed in utilizing her plan.

  Unhooking her legs, she let go of Drakyrr’s shoulders. Their bodies parted abruptly, and she plummeted toward the earth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She tumbled end over end, body spinning out of control as Mother Earth rushed up to greet her.

  Dimly, an indignant cry reached her, but she wondered if perhaps it was merely the wind screaming in her ears.

  She rolled over, her back to the earth, the air rushing over and around her, gravity sucking greedily at her body. High above her, Drakyrr transformed into the massive black dragon, tucked his wings, and streaked straight down to her.

  “Nay, let me die,” she said, but the gales swept her words away.

  She flailed about and managed to point her head downward. The speed of her descent increased and mimicking Drakyrr’s actions, she folded her arms against her body and shot like lightning toward the ground.

  A cry pierced the air, one both angry and desperate. Moments later, Drakyrr snatched her in midair, jarring her. Disoriented, she struggled, but he pinned her arms as his body reverted back into a winged man.

  “How dare you deny me,” he snapped, his eyes ablaze with anger.

  “How dare the gods toy with the lives of others,” she screamed.

  He flapped his wings, climbing higher into the sky. “I shall have you, make you mine.”

  “Nay!”

  But his strength overpowered her. He claimed her lips, drawing power from the simplest forms of intimate contact. He gave her his dragon kiss, penetrating her body again, his magic washing over her, stronger and more persistent than before. Desire surged through Ember anew. Remorse followed it, guilt at her traitorous body. Pumping against her, his wings beating the air, Drakyrr kissed her hard, furiously.

  For a moment, Ember succumbed to his magic, allowed his seduction to overcome her and claim her body, but just as her soul contemplated the leap into his eternal embrace, something awakened in her heart.

  He grunted and thrust harder. Ember snapped her legs around his hips, matching his every move, the coil within her snapping. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her loins, bright pinpoints of light erupted behind her eyes, and her fluids coated his cock and the inside of her thighs. He shouted in victory, pumping faster. Stiffening, he stopped beating his wings for a moment and hovered in midair with her for a few seconds before plummeting downward. His cock throbbed within her, and hot liquid slicked the door to her womb. With a last pleasured shudder, Ember clasped Drakyrr to her bosom, hooked her ankles behind him, and called upon her power.

  The aroma of brimstone filled her nose and sinuses. Heat flashed into from her gut. It bled into her arms, her legs, raced up her neck, and penetrated her skull. Blue and white flames spilled from her eyes, nose, and mouth. It burst from her fingertips and palms and coursed out of her feet, her boots turning to ash.

  Drakyrr laughed. He began beating his wings intermittently to keep them airborne. “I welcome your power, halfling,” he said. “Show me the strength of the magic the gods have bestowed upon you.”

  Angered, Ember reached deeper, fueling the flames licking around their bodies. She pushed all her despair into it.

  “Ah, that feels nice,” Drakyrr whispered.

  “You son…of a…goddess whore....!” Ember urged her fury into her magic.

  Drakyrr chuckled. He pulled her tighter, his cock hardening again, slowly he began moving inside her anew.

  “Think of Sarenkesh,” Ember whispered and steeled herself against Drakyrr’s seductive magic. She poured her determination into her power.

  With a grunt, Drakyrr’s eyes widened slightly. “Ah, mighty little Faerie,” he said. Her fire spiraled around him as he transformed into half dragon, half man. Leathery scales covered his body, talons formed on his fingertips, piercing her ass and back, and fangs protruded from his mouth. Still, he kept thrusting, his cock bumping her womb.

  Incensed at his claim of ownership, Ember ground her hips against his, allowing him to think he’d won.

  “Ah, aye,” he said, grunting and then moaning deeply, his wing beats slowing. “That’s right. Succumb to me.” He stiffened, spewing his seed into her a second time. Spent, he withdrew from her body.

  Finally, Ember focused upon the one thing she had left. Using her love for Sarenkesh, she poured it into her power. An explosion of flames burst from her entire body and encapsulated Drakyrr. Instead of releasing her, he held fast. The fire cleared, and Ember found herself in the massive dragon’s claws.

  “You must do better than that to defeat a full god, Daughter of Trinity,” he hissed through jagged, sword-size teeth.

  Again, she called upon her love for Sarenkesh. She focused upon it, envisioning his perfect body and handsome face. She thought of his touch, the spicy aroma of his body like cloves and lavender, the melodic sound of his voice, the warmth of his skin. Fire enveloped her and licked around the dragon.

  “Stop it,” he snapped.

  Ember sensed something different in her energy. The heat emanating from her seemed hotter than any she’d wielded before. She concentrated harder still, pouring all of herself into it, focusing it on and around the dragon god.

  “Princess, no!”

  Sarenkesh made her happy, prompted laughter from her, and warm feelings that swept her away. She remembered their brief coupling and wondered what it would be like to have him lie between her legs for hours of lovemaking. She dwelled on the idea of raising children together, growing old and watching generations of great-grandchildren grow from babes into adulthood.

  “Princess, do not do this!”

  Blue flames turned white, and the white flames flickered into violet and back again. Ember sent all her pain and torment into her magic.

  And she forgave herself, realizing how this dragon god had tricked her and used her just like Raya had done.

  The explosion rocked her backward. Sharp pain stabbed her eardrums. For the first time, burns kissed her skin, singed her hair.

  Despite the force of the fire burst, Ember somehow managed to cling to Drakyrr. Vivid white and purple flames enshrouded them. Knocked half unconscious, Drakyrr stopped flying.
As he roused, he grunted in fear and desperately tried to flap his massive black wings. The speed of their fall proved too great, and the heat of Ember’s magic flamed hotter and hotter as they plummeted, the rushing wind fueling the fire.

  Ember watched the mountain rising up to catch her. “Forgive me, dear Sarenkesh,” she whispered. “I do this for you. I love you.”

  Everything turned into a blur of brown, green, red, and orange, then blue as their bodies turned and the sky presented itself again. The wind shrieked and roared in Ember’s ears, its touch that of the ice gods.

  She said hello to the mountain’s steely embrace.

  Darkness.

  Oblivion.

  ***

  Cries of anguish awakened Ember. She sat up. Blinking, she looked around and discovered herself still clutched to Drakyrr’s breast. Onyx scales winked dully in the harsh light. Still a dragon? She placed her head against his breastbone and listened.

  Dead.

  Relief blew through her.

  The force of the dragon’s impact had left an enormous crater. Slowly, she stood and stared at her bare feet. It would be a miserable trek down the mountain to the horses without any boots to shod her feet.

  But why were many voices wailing in sorrow?

  She looked to her right. Sarenkesh had wrapped his cape around something. Looking closer, she saw he clutched a blackened, misshapen body in his arms. Who was…? Colorful melted beads stuck to a smoking, sticky skull. Sooty teeth poked from a lipless mouth, and smoke rose into the chill mountain air from what remained of a slender body. Shocked, she stumbled back. No, she shouldn’t be able to see this. Her legs lost their strength, and she fell to her knees. She wasn’t supposed to witness her death and see her mutilated and charred form. How could the gods allow her to witness such a thing?

  Beron knelt a few feet away, his face pressed to the ashy ground, one sob after another penetrating the earth. Kaedric and King Zeadren stood nearby him, tears trickling down their faces, snot dripping into their beards. Half-heartedly, Kaedric used the hem of his cape to wipe his nose. He moved over to Sarenkesh and dropped to his knees next to him.

  On Sarenkesh’s other side, Sir Hestbone clasped his shoulder as if offering the Gloaming Elf some of his strength.

  The elf raised his head, one hand still clasping Ember’s wrapped, burned body to his torso, the other lifted to the sky, hand fisted. “Torr! Mighty Torr!” he screamed, his words distorted. “Hear me! Give her back! Do not let Raya take her from me, from us. The goddess has been cruel. She has tricked us all.” His voice broke, and his tears renewed.

  “Ach, give her back,” the dwarf affirmed. “’Tis not right to take something so precious to so many.” Tears claimed his voice but finally, he choked out, “Besides, you made me endure the whining of three women this journey. You owe me.”

  No! This could not be! Ember trembled as sorrow overwhelmed her. Having made her decision to give up her life for her friends and fellow people, she’d reconciled herself to death, but it was so unfair to make her witness the results. Pain filled her, pain for Sarenkesh, for her friends.

  “You have good, faithful comrades who loved you more than any have for centuries,” a booming voice said.

  Ember clambered to her feet and whirled around. Behind her, a giant of a man stood leaning upon the edge of his golden chariot. Bright yellow hair full of braids fell down the front of his ornate tunic. A thick beard covered his face, and two braids on either side of his chin reached to a large, silver belt.

  She dropped to her knees, bowing her head. “Good Torr,” she said.

  “Rise, li’l one,” he replied, his voice becoming thunder. “You are a goddess now.”

  Next to her, Ember’s friends scanned the skies for an approaching storm.

  “I do not desire to be a goddess,” she replied.

  “You are too powerful to be Fae or Mortal.”

  “Then take my power from me. I will be content to sit in your Great Hall as a warrior.”

  “No!” a female voice shook the air. “She is mine. It is my right to choose which of the fallen I take back to my godly bower.” Raya materialized in a column of blazing light. White sparkles trailed up and down her body and over the two panthers that stood at her feet.

  “Be still!” Torr held his hand out and conjured an orb of blinding light. “Must I show you the strength of my power yet again?”

  The golden tone of Raya’s skin paled. “She is mine, good Torr,” she whispered, head bowed.

  “What have you done?” Torr looked hard and disapprovingly at Raya. “I smell deceit upon the wind. It swirls in the ashes falling from the charred bodies of our dragon-son and the Daughter of Trinity.”

  “I have done nothing.” Raya held her head up, chin high, and fixed Torr with her brilliant blue gaze. “The favored daughter merely defeated and killed our son. He was a lustful beast and deserved it.”

  “I curse the day I ever laid between your legs,” Torr shot back. “You are a whore, a deceiver. Oshin should have killed you long ago.”

  “He is not immune to my wiles any more than you are,” she purred and touched herself.

  “Goddess bitch,” muttered Torr. He turned his attention to Ember. “What say you, Princess? I will have the truth.”

  She turned her gaze to Raya, who narrowed her eyes. Pain flared in Ember’s temple. Crying out, she placed two fingers tightly over Raya’s mark.

  “Enough!” Torr threw an orb at Raya. It landed at her feet in a burst of sparks and bright light. Rocks and dirt bloomed in the air.

  Ember’s comrades looked around, the ground shaking beneath their feet.

  “Speak, li’l one,” Torr ordered.

  “I was to open the gates of Muspell,” she began, her voice small and thin. “If the Fire Giants are free, then they can wreak havoc on Mortals and wipe them from the earth. The Fae will be the only race left. The race that Raya favors. Assassins from Flame Mountain tried to kill me—”

  “I did not send assassins to murder you!” Raya’s voice shook the mountain. “Who ordered your death?” She looked at Torr. “Did you have knowledge of this?”

  “No,” he said, his tone grave. “I did not.”

  “There is a traitor in the midst,” Raya insisted. “But who?”

  “Who indeed?” Torr countered.

  “I may have my questionable ways, Torr, but what reason would I have to kill my favored one?”

  “At least one truth falls from your lips, goddess.” He looked at Ember as Raya angrily paced the mountaintop, her cats close on her heels. “What else do you know, li’l princess?”

  “All of King Zeadren’s people fled to Hellembr,” she began again. “A magic resides there that they feel will protect them. I know not what it has to do with me, but the leader of Hellembr is using the mountain ogres to attack on ground as Drakyrr attacked from the sky.”

  Torr’s steely gaze returned to Raya. “Perhaps Drakyrr had more on his agenda than his mother’s wishes.”

  Raya cast him a look over one shoulder that would have fried a Mortal into a tiny pile of ash.

  “What you do not know, dear princess, is that if the Fire Giants are released, they will wage war with the gods. Jealousy fuels their strength. They despise us because they are powerful and strong, yet lack the magic to make them gods too. However, since you and Lochri have the power of fire, I will wager Raya intended to use you both to control the giants of Muspell, giving her free reign while the gods of this world battled the denizens of the fire plane.” He held his palm up, wriggling his fingers. “Do you deny it, Raya?”

  The goddess paused, saying nothing, her stare stoic, icy.

  Blue lightning danced between his fingertips. His gaze shifted from Raya to his hand and back to the goddess again. “I am not sure what Raya’s intentions are concerning Hellembr,” he rumbled, “or if she actually had anything to do with Hellembr’s involvement. Nor do I know why various villages and cities throughout the lands have suffered atta
cks, but rest assured, the higher gods have been watching it unfold and will deal with Raya and her manipulations—or that of others who may be involved.”

  A sound of disgust and disdain slipped from Raya.

  Raya’s words to King Roahre the night at Verdfauna’s palace drifted through Ember’s mind. “Do not offer anything to me, good king. Your daughter is offering enough.”

  “You used me,” Ember hissed, her venom directed at the goddess. “I gave up my life to protect those whom I love—and for what?” Hatred weighed heavily in her words. “So you could dance and play, thinking you were goddess above all other gods?”

  “You will sit at my right hand,” said Raya. “You are my favored daughter.”

  “How can I sit by thine right hand when disgust roils in my guts?”

  “You dare to speak to me—!”

  Torr’s laughter covered the mountain. Thunder reverberated throughout the skies. “You might be able to tame the Fire Giants through her, Raya, but you would never tame the Princess’s spirit.” He stepped from his chariot, lightning sparking from his black leather boots. “What do you desire, little one? It is your right to choose.”

  “Torr, she is mine!” Raya stepped forward, but the force of another lightning bolt threw her several feet. She landed on her back, stunned. Finally, she got up, dusted off her embroidered tunic and breeches, shook pebbles from her long, honey tresses, and glowered at Torr.

  “Mayhap I should have a talk with Oshin, thine husband,” he warned. “It has been many centuries since he caught me with you, and you have committed many treacherous acts since then that have displeased him greatly. I am sure he would like to know more about your latest scheme.” A pleased smile stretched his beard. “I will wager he might even take from you the necklace you prize so highly.”

  The last bit of color fled Raya’s face, her eyes like two large pools of topaz melting upon snow.

  Satisfied, he nodded. “Now, child,” he said to Ember. “What do you desire?”