by Megan Derr
He'd always wondered what had finally tipped Leo off to his wife's affair, and how Marianne had kept it from Leo that Rafael was her lover. At the back of his mind, he constantly dreaded that Leo would finally figure it out. The first one Leo would go after was Conway. Just thinking about it made Rafael feel sick.
Every now and then, he wondered if Leo did know, because he'd always been abusive but the violence hadn't started until after Marianne's death. Five years since Marianne had died, and sometimes it felt like only days had passed. Other times, decades.
Rafael dragged himself out of unhappy memories when he realized Amr was looking at him curiously. "I barely remember it, unfortunately. I heard the stories, but dismissed them as wild exaggeration. No one would actually be stupid enough to throw a couple of kids into the pits. It blew me away when I heard that Marlowe himself was dead, and his entire syndicate wiped right alongside him. It infuriates me to think they were fourteen when they were pitted. Can you imagine?"
Amr scrubbed at his face. "No, I really can't. I'm glad someone destroyed Marlowe over it. Christ, he's the one who threatened and punched me, so how did I wind up the bad guy?"
"I think it was the part where you said nobody wanted him, more or less," Rafael said, teasing, but with gentle reprimand.
"Yeah," Amr said. "It was a shitty thing to say anyway, but I can see where it would have been ten times worse to Ken. Come on, let's go inside. There's nothing more we can do out here."
Rafael didn't move, just pushed his hands into the pocket of his jeans and said, "So tell me about all this Mordred nonsense. Tell me everything about the clans, now, while there's no one else around to punch you."
Amr laughed. "Fair enough. Has Ken told you anything about the clans, yet?"
"Not really, just a few bits and pieces that don't make a lot of sense to me. Blaze said he was waiting until you got here, since they didn't know if you were Clan or not and might need the explanation yourself."
"Alright, then," Amr said, and moved to sit on the steps of the patio, folding his arms across his legs. "Ken explained some of it, about the clans, but I'll start with the legend that rose from it all. Everybody knows King Arthur and his sword Excalibur. What most don't know is that the sword was actually a dragon made from magic. It looked much like Nev, but it was larger, had gold scales, and was incredibly powerful—nigh unbeatable. Arthur named it Excalibur, but people also came to call it the Holy Pendragon.
"The secret of Excalibur's making was lost when the woman who created him, The Lady of the Lake, was killed. But Merlin was able, with the help of Morgana, to create a handful of lesser dragons that were smaller and the color of steel. Those became the original knight dragons of Arthur's inner circle, the Knights of the Round Table. Over the years, knights and dragons alike increased in numbers, and divided into clans that are now scattered across the world.
"When Arthur died, the clans fractured. They were torn further apart by betrayal, misunderstanding, and finally decided to withdraw from the rest of the world. The Clans believe that 'there will come a day where the Knights of the Round Table will be needed once more, and return to the world to rule as they once did'.
"There was one clan that did not agree with that dogma, who felt the knights and their dragons should not seal themselves away, but should change with the world. It was this clan, and its leader, who learned how to give dragons the ability to look human. It was he who shared the secret of their shifting with others, thinking to help. But the other clans only saw their actions as a betrayal, and they were cursed by Prince Avalon himself never to again master dragons. The mark of that curse is their blackened eyes. That clan was, is, Clan Mordred." He smiled faintly. "As I'm sure you guessed."
Rafael shook his head. "So all this craziness is just a bunch of cult feuding?"
Amr threw his head back and laughed. "Do not let any of the clans hear you call them that, you'll be in trouble right alongside Mordred. It's no place to be, trust me." His laughter faded into a soft smile. "Ken struck a nerve himself when he dug in that bit about never having dragons. Mordred was the son of Arthur, the equal of Prince Avalon. Clan Mordred should be equal in status and power to Clan Pendragon. But since we're exiled, and cursed, all we can do is practice magic." He shrugged. "Still, I think we made the right choice, even if that choice has led to the pits."
"Speaking of the pits and the clans, how did Cam wind up in the United States if he's that important? Ken said he should be back in England."
"Yes, with the Clan Pendragon. That clan does like to hoard all the shiny things, up to and including their precious leader. I do not think Prince Avalon has left the Clan lands in at least three hundred years. We would have to ask Ken, he probably knows what happened."
Rafael sighed. "So I guess the smart thing would be to contact this Clan Pendragon and return Cam?"
Amr made a face. "Honestly, I'm surprised Ken hasn't already called Clan Cross."
"I thought you said he wasn't actually part of Clan Cross."
"He can't be if he's nearly thirty, but doesn't have the survivor mark on the back of his hand," Amr replied, and touched the back of his own hand. "Cross is cursed with illness; about three percent of their clan, I believe, dies every year. Those that survive receive a tattoo. It's a saying among the clans that Cross is united by the pain of surviving. You can always trust the clans to be melodramatic." He snorted in amused derision. "Ken bears the name, unless he's lying about that too, but doesn't bear the mark. That means someone in Cross adopted him, but the Clan doesn't acknowledge him and refuses to claim and knight him."
Rafael frowned. "But surely they would claim someone who has a knight dragon. As cultish as they sound, there's no way they would just let one of their dragons roam around like that. Wouldn't they want him safely locked up with the others?"
Amr shrugged. "The first rule of cults, if you ask me, is that their rules excel only at contradicting themselves. Clan Mordred was exiled for sharing the secret of the dragons with the world, but really it just hastened our exile. We were already on that path. Why Ken hasn't already contacted Clan Cross is something else we can ask him when he wakes up."
"Hopefully that is soon, before Nev goes crazy waiting," Rafael said with a faint smile. "I've never seen a dragon quite that devoted, not even Conway, but I suppose after what they went through the bond would run even deeper than usual."
"Yes," Amr said quietly.
Rafael cast him a look of silent inquiry, but Amr was staring at the woods, his face inscrutable. "Come on," Rafael finally said. "I think it's long past time for a beer." He led the way inside—and stopped as he saw the two figures slumped together on the couch, fast asleep. Blaze's head rested on Ken's shoulder.
The strange moment in the kitchen with Blaze earlier hit him like a fist to the face, leaving him reeling internally. Watching Blaze with Erie had been one of the sexiest, most stunning things he'd ever seen. The way Conway had looked at him and pleaded … Rafael hadn't been capable of denying him. Knowing that Blaze and Erie were watching them shouldn't have been such a turn on.
If they'd gone on like that any longer, he would have given in to the urge to turn around, grab Blaze, and shove him into the nearest wall. Would have pinned him there and made him scream. Then he would have made the dragons do the same. He wondered if that was what Ken did. Thinking about it was like worrying a sore tooth or picking at a scab. It hurt, and he shouldn't do it, and damned if he knew why he kept doing it anyway.
What annoyed him most was that he hadn't even known Blaze for a full day—barely more than a few hours. So why the hell did he care who Blaze fucked?
Turning away from the sleeping figures, he headed into the kitchen. He pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and removed the caps. Carrying them to the bar, he set one down in front of Amr. "So what do you do, ordinarily? How did you come to train Blaze?"
"I was young and angry and determined to make a difference," Amr said. "Don't they have a saying about how those
that can't do, teach? I wanted to make a difference somehow. Since I will never have a dragon, I taught those that do have them." He motioned to his own eyes, smiling with self-derision and a hint of old hurt. "That is how I came to train Blaze. Rust threw me out when he realized that I could train dragons and owners that might actually be a threat to him. Shortly thereafter, I was called home on dire family business."
"I see," Rafael said.
Amr took a long pull of his beer, then set it down and pushed back the strands of dark hair that had fallen in his face. "Blaze was the finest student I ever had; it's almost a pity he never had a knight dragon because he is definitely knight caliber. But I can't picture him with anyone but Erie."
"No, they are perfectly matched," Rafael said, and sighed. "I wonder what we do now. I guess we should work on getting Cam back to the clans. But figuring it out can wait until morning. It's nearly midnight, and long past time I went to bed."
He threw their empty beer bottles away, and turned out all the kitchen lights except for the one over the sink. They were at the kitchen door when Amr said quietly, "It's long past time you claimed your dragon properly."
Rafael went still. He didn't turn around as he replied, "I can't risk him. As we are now, Leo lets it be. If he ever suspected Conway meant something to me, that Conway is more protective than usual … "
"I have not met your brother, but I've seen him in action before. Not a man to anger, but it's already too late for that. Things are going to go to hell very shortly, and the stronger your bond with your dragon the better. It's time to claim him and you know it."
"Yes, I suppose I do," Rafael said with a sigh. "I just don't want him hurt."
"Too much consideration is a hurt all its own," Amr replied.
Rafael finally looked up as Amr drew up beside him, and said softly, "That might be true, but some consideration goes a long way."
"I'll make nice with the little Cross," Amr said sourly. "Or try, anyway." He stared at the two figures on the couch, still fast asleep and oblivious to the conversation about them. "He won't make it easy."
"Nothing is easy, not in this world. Your room is the last on the right. Sleep well." Rafael walked off, heading down the hall to the master suite at the very end. Only the lamp on his nightstand was lit. Conway, ever the mostly-obedient dragon, was fast asleep on the floor at the foot of Rafael's bed. Leaving him there, Rafael stripped off his clothes and went to shower.
He'd forgotten how much he liked being awake in the dead of night, when everything was still and quiet, and it seemed as if he was the only one in the world. Except, of course, for Conway. Ignoring the way his heart sped up just thinking about Conway, Rafael finished showering. Stepping out, he grabbed his towel from where it hung on a hook across from the shower and roughly dried himself as he left the bathroom.
Conway was awake, waiting patiently at the foot of the bed, his scales gleaming in the dimly lit room. He growled softly as Rafael approached, then reared up, heavy paws turning to hands as they landed on Rafael's shoulders. "Raf ... "
Rafael didn't reply, just wrapped his arm around Conway's waist and kissed him. He poured out all the heat and hunger he'd always kept back, all the emotion he'd kept locked up since finding Marianne with a bullet in her head. No matter what happened later, Rafael couldn't stand the thought of dying while knowing he'd denied them this.
His kiss was met full measure, Conway's happy growls filling the room. His nails scored Rafael's skin making him shiver. Rafael drew back to mouth along Conway's jaw, nipping it lightly. When he reached Conway's ear, he murmured, "On the bed, dragon."
Rumbling, Conway obeyed, dropping down onto the bed and then turning around to crawl up it. Rafael tossed his towel aside and followed him. He bent over Conway, fitting their bodies together and pressing kisses along his shoulder and his throat. "My lovely dragon," he murmured.
"Raf ... " Conway whimpered as he pushed back against him, his ass rubbing oh so wonderfully against Rafael's cock. He sat back on his heels, pulling Conway with him, and smoothed his hands along Conway's fine skin, lingering over every scar.
"Mine," Rafael whispered again. He turned Conway around and pushed him back down into the bedding. Spreading his legs wide, Rafael settled between them, and bent over Conway to kiss him long and slow, their tongues tangling in the kind of hungry, wet and messy kiss he'd never permitted themselves to have before. Breaking away, he pressed sucking kisses onto Conway's skin, occasionally nipping as he traveled further down. He ran his tongue over Conway's nipples before biting down, and then drew back just enough to blow cool air over them.
Conway whimpered, moan, and growled, feeding Rafael one delightful noise after another. When he teased his fingers over Conway's cock, Rafael had to cover Conway's mouth with his own to muffle a scream that would have brought the entire household into his bedroom.
Though, maybe not, given that the rest of the household was also comprised of dragons and owners. Rafael carefully did not think about how much he wouldn't mind if Blaze and Erie intruded some other night.
Breaking away from their kiss and licking Conway's lips playfully, Rafael replaced the hand on Conway's cock with his mouth, licking and lightly sucking up and down the length of Conway's cock, then leaning further down to mouth his sac. Rafael's own need was climbing, his cock twitching with every needy sound and jerky movement that Conway made.
Finally he swallowed Conway's cock, working it with tongue and throat, his hands holding Conway's hips firmly in place. Conway could do little more than plead and scramble to get an unsatisfactory grip in Rafael's short hair.
Rafael chuckled around his cock and pulled off, laughing harder at Conway's growls of protests. Withdrawing, Rafael fetched the lube he kept in the nightstand. Returning, he slicked his fingers and bending over to kiss Conway as he slowly worked one finger inside. "My dragon," he whispered against Conway's mouth. "Not even Leo is going to keep you from me anymore."
"My Raf," Conway growled. "Mine."
"Yours," Raf agreed, and added a second finger. By the time he added a third, Conway was trembling in his arms, growling and snarling, begging for Rafael to fuck him with every needy breath.
Rafael obliged, removing his fingers and slicking his cock. Pulling Conway's legs up over his shoulders, he lined up his cock and slowly pushed in. When he was fully seated, he leaned down, bending Conway in half, and took his mouth hard, leaving his own lips throbbing. Conway bit him, making Rafael laugh. Drawing back, eyes locked with Conway's, Rafael began to fuck him as hard as they had both wanted for entirely too long.
The pace was too fast, and the sensations too much to last long. Rafael didn't really try, just savored the feeling of Conway around him and the way he took him. Most of all, Rafael reveled in the way Conway stared at him like nothing else existed. Wrapping one hand around Conway's cock, Rafael ordered, "Come, dragon." Conway did so, surprisingly quiet—but in the next beat, his nails raked down Rafael's chest. Pleasure and plain collided and overwhelmed Rafael as he came, stealing his breath and his vision. Rafael collapsed on top of Conway, panting. He was vaguely aware that he must be bleeding all over the bedding, but could not make himself care.
When he finally came back to himself, pain was the first thing that registered, but it vanished almost immediately in a wave of hot satisfaction. Conway was finally his—not just sort of, or partially, or tentatively. His dragon at last belonged to him, and even the threat of Leo was not enough to make Rafael take it all back.
He grimaced as he shifted and pain flared again. He looked at the mess he made: the blood, semen, and sweat plastered all over his body. The sheets were even worse off. Laughing ruefully, he slowly sat up, then slid to the foot of the bed and stood. He swayed a bit, but steadied himself, and started to walk to the bathroom.
Conway came out a second later, first aid supplies piled in his arms. "In the bathroom," Rafael said, and leaned down to kiss him. "Silly dragon." Conway rumbled and nuzzled against him, then led the way back
into the bathroom.
An hour later, Rafael was clean and patched up. He leaned against the wall as Conway remade he bed, wishing he could help, but knowing all the movement would just reopen his wounds.
When he was done, Conway helped Rafael into bed before turning off the light and crawling in beside him, lying as close as he dared. "My Raf," he said again, as though enjoying the sound of the words.
Rafael supposed he was; he certainly enjoyed hearing Conway say them. "That's right, all yours, dragon. Whatever happens next, you're mine. Let's just hope Leo doesn't get too hands-on tomorrow or there will be no hiding these marks. Did you have to claw practically my entire chest?"
"Mine," Conway said with a growl, and bit Rafael's shoulder hard enough to make him gasp. But, the first thing anyone was taught when they wanted to work with dragons was: get used to scrapes, cuts, and bruises, because it was how dragons showed everything from irritation to affection.
He really wouldn't have it any other way. He kissed Conway softly, his mouth sliding, tasting, relishing the feel and flavor of him. "Go to sleep, dragon. Tomorrow is probably going to be a very long day."
Conway rumbled in reply, nuzzled against him one more time, then obediently closed his eyes and settled in to sleep. Rafael stared at the ceiling, reluctant to sleep himself, and desperate to hold on to the quiet, happy moment just a little longer. Who even knew when he would next get to lie in bed and rest with Conway curled up beside him.
But sleep was hard to fight, and it really had been a long day, and the next day was going to be far worse. Pressing a kiss to Conway's temple, Rafael settled back on his pillow and finally allowed himself to succumb to sleep.
