Throne of Oak (Maggie's Grove)

by Dana Marie Bell

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.”

  “Good. I’d hate to have to hunt you down.”

  Mina would, too. She’d take out Kate and re-stake her claim to him, magic be damned. “Where are you, my sotiei?”

  “Safe, for now. But Ms. Kate? I’m informing Selena of your actions this day. You will be made to pay for your attempt to break a lawful mating through magic.” The stern warning rang through his head, through the unwanted connection with Kate, with all the determination of his Queen behind it. The dryad queen’s connection to the earth would add an extra punch the witch would be unable to ignore.

  Kate would do well to heed the warning. Selena was not a witch to be trifled with. She would act without hesitation to free him from Kate’s clutches, if only so she could say I told you so.

  He sensed Kate’s withdrawal. Whatever was going to happen, she’d be ready for it. The witches in town, even those that followed a dark path, respected Selena and her strength. Or, at the very least, they feared her. “She’s gone, Mina.”

  “For now. Until we get her dealt with, this won’t end. She’ll continue to try and use me against you.”

  “She won’t succeed.” Breaking his bond with Mina would break him. Kate obviously knew about his draconic heritage, but she probably had no idea that both his vampiric and his draconic beasts would fight him on breaking the mating. At best, Kate would have a living husk, a vampire with no beast. A creature incapable of human thought or will—he would be a ghoul in the truest sense of the word. He would eat the flesh of others along with drinking their blood, unable to sate the hunger that would dwell within him constantly. The dragon inside him would die, never to be reborn, his magic lost forever.

  At worst, it would destroy all three of them. His beasts would live, but destroy Kate and rampage through the town, killing everything and everyone in their path to find the one person who could soothe them. But the bond would be broken, Mina unable to reach him on any level, and in their grief he would kill her. He would have to be put down, destroyed, before he took the whole town out.

  “Not going to happen, Dragos. I swear. We’ll get this fixed.”

  “I hope so, my sotiei.” He yawned, unable to keep his eyes open a moment longer.

  “Go back to sleep. You still have a few hours until sunset.”

  He didn’t even have the strength to wish her good night.

  * * *

  “Dragos? You up?” It was barely sunset, but Dragos was an older vampire, used to waking before the sun had fully set. She entered her bedroom, expecting to find him moving around, preparing for his day.

  What she saw had her smiling in a sappy, sentimental way that would have had Greer teasing her for a month.

  Dragos was splayed out across her bed, his dark hair tousled, his lashes thick against his cheek. The sheet had slipped down, exposing the strong lines of his back, cupping the firm curve of his ass. He looked so peaceful, so innocent lying there. The cares he carried around with him as the town’s mayor drifted away in sleep, leaving him oddly vulnerable. She wanted to curl up next to him, run her hands down the length of his back and see if he purred.

  Kate wouldn’t have him, not if Mina had anything to say about it. She was just grateful he couldn’t accept Laurentiu’s challenge. That was one worry off her mind. Vasile would become the Prince, and the dragons would no longer be an issue. She was certain of it. And if Laurentiu cheated, as she feared he might, she’d step in herself and kill the bastard just to make sure he never again laid a hand on Dragos.

  She licked her lips and turned her attention once more to his face.

  The slow, sexy curl of his lips had her stomach doing flip-flops. The glazed, sleepy look in his eyes had her nerves screaming to run. “Good evening.”

  She had to laugh. That slow drawl, in that deliberately thickened Romanian accent, brought to mind only one thing. “Good evening, Count Dorkula.”

  He chuckled and rolled over, the sheet dipping even lower to reveal the saddle of his hips and the dark thatch of hair just above his cock. “It could be better.”

  Oh, someone felt up to playing. “Could it?” Heat curled through her as his gaze raked up and down her body. She felt suddenly overdressed.

  “I’m hungry, my sotiei.” He kicked the sheet off, revealing that magnificent body of his. His cock jutted out, leading the way as he sauntered toward her, his intent clear.

  If he had his way she’d be naked in two seconds flat.

  Mina waited for a second, debating. Fun, fuck, or both?

  There was really no contest. She went with both.

  Mina darted out of the open doorway like the hounds of hell were after her, streaking through the apartment toward the doorway and freedom. Not that Dragos wouldn’t fuck her in the heart of the Throne. At some point he’d have to if their bond was going to be complete.

  But tonight? Tonight she wanted to play, and then she wanted to fuck.

  Dragos was on her so fast she didn’t even have time to gasp. Twin pricks of white-hot pain were her only warning before pure liquid lust shot through her system. Every pull on her neck felt like he’d scraped his tongue across her clit, and her nipples throbbed with unfulfilled need.

  She whimpered as he took her to the ground, the predator in him quickly overcoming her. He cupped her pussy through her jeans, stroking her over the material, driving her insane with desire. The hard cock pressing against her ass only aggravated her need to get naked, get him inside her now.

  When he’d drunk his fill he lifted his mouth from her neck. Muttering something in Romanian he ripped her clothes from her, his hunger for more than blood overpowering both their senses. She could hear him in her mind—an odd echo of his words mixed with raw want that had her trembling beneath him.

  Submitting.

  She wanted to give him everything he desired in a way she never had before. She needed to make him whole, make him feel the same oneness that she felt whenever he touched her. Soon, she’d take him to her tree, bind him to her in the way of the dryads, rock his world in a way he’d never dreamed of before.

  The voice in her mind that had been tormenting her for weeks was silent, but anger that did not belong to either her or Dragos flared through her. This time, she did more than ignore it.

  She gave it everything she had.

  Every ounce of pleasure Dragos wrung from her flesh was shared. When he finally got her naked and pressed her face down to the floor, she let her enemy know exactly how good it felt. When his cock dragged across the crack of her ass, she shared the sensation of the wet, erotic trail he left behind. The nibbles to her neck that sent shivers down her spine, the way he held her wrists and kept her exactly where he wanted her—all was shown to her enemy, letting Kate know exactly what Dragos was doing with her, to her. She squirmed against him, trying to get closer, to enhance the sensations coursing through her, in a dance as old as the forest itself. He hissed his approval, nipping her shoulder blade hard enough to draw blood once more.

  Who the hell knew her shoulder blade could be an erogenous zone?

  The voice roared in rage and withdrew, but the simmering anger remained.

  “Te iubesc, scumpa mea.”

  She sensed the meaning behind the muttered words, knew what he wanted to say, but Dragos seemed unable to think in English, making the admission that much sweeter. He would say it in English eventually, but for now, she’d hold the words, and their meaning, close to her heart where none could take it from her. Not even Kate.

  Once she’d bound him to her in the way of her people, there would be no one and nothing that could come between them.

  No one would ever take him from her, or they would face her wrath.

  He nudged her legs apart, still murmuring endearments in Romanian. She’d eventually ask what iubito, dulcea mea and pui meant, but the feel of his long cock sliding into her took every thought from her head. She was pinned down, taken, claimed. And she loved every minute of it.

  �
��Mine.” Dragos sank his fangs deep into her neck, a white-hot pain that quickly morphed into blinding pleasure. He drew her into him, his mouth working against her flesh as goose bumps ran up and down her body. The orgasm rocked through her, dragged from her willing body by the pull of his lips and the pounding of his cock. “Te iubesc, draga Mina.”

  The great oak shivered with her at his words. For all that he’d pinned her down, held her still while he took her, she was cherished. He made sure there was no doubt in her mind.

  He slowed his thrusts as she came down off her orgasm, slowly building the tension back up. Small, barely there kisses dotted her spine and shoulders, his tongue occasionally darting out to touch her skin, leaving cool patches behind. His fingers remained curled around her wrists, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

  In her mind, the litany of endearments continued, some in English, some in Romanian, drowning out the howling rage Kate tried to push into her head. Together they held Kate at bay, enjoying each other, flaunting their bond in front of their enemy until she finally retreated.

  Mina sighed in relief. Now the real fun could begin.

  “Don’t even think about it, iubito.” His fangs scraped across her neck. “I like you right where you are.”

  He brushed his chin along her neck, his whiskers dragging across her flesh. Gods, was there anything better than the feel of her man’s whiskers on her skin?

  “We’ll have to explore that later.”

  She could see the vision in his mind, his face buried between her thighs, almost feel his whiskers in her most sensitive places. She moaned, wanting that, needing his tongue on her clit.

  Instead, he rasped his whiskers over her neck once more before biting her one last time. When the orgasm raced through her he joined her, pouring himself into her with a muffled groan.

  Dragos licked the bites closed with a sigh. “Third time, Mina.”

  She grunted. Oh, yeah. She could go for a third time. That vision of his was lodged in her head, and she had every intention of making it a reality.

  He chuckled. “No, my sotiei. I have taken you, fed from you three times.” His happiness filled her. He would never again be alone, and that knowledge filled them both. “You are mine forever.” He flexed his hips, his still-hard cock dragging inside her, touching her deep.

  She grinned, out of breath but ready for whatever he wanted to do to her next.

  “I can live with that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Dragos awoke the next night the moon was high in the sky. His sotiei had worn him out the night before. His cock was pleasantly sore, his jaw even more so. She’d been demanding when he’d finally let her up, claiming her due from him.

  He’d been more than happy to pay homage to his queen. He was willing to bet it would be days before the whisker burns on her thighs dissipated—one more mark of his claim upon her.

  He climbed out of bed and pulled on his slacks, smiling as he did so. He could hardly wait to see what she had in store for him tonight. “Mina?”

  No answer.

  “Mina?” He strode out of the bedroom, shirtless and shoeless, looking for his mate.

  She wasn’t in the house, and she wasn’t answering. His beast stirred within him, ready to hunt, ready to find the one that belonged to them.

  Dragos did his best to beat it back down. He needed to use his head, not his instincts. After Kate’s threat, the last thing he wanted was to let his beast loose. The creature might decide the best thing to do would be to take out the one who’d threatened Mina rather than make sure Mina was safe.

  He sat on her sofa and closed his eyes, reaching for her in his mind. “Mina?”

  “Dragos, you’re awake. Good. There’s something moving in the forest. Come up to the Throne—I need you.”

  Dragos opened his eyes and quickly finished dressing before misting through the earth to Mina’s side. His sotiei sat on her throne, her hands clenched on the arms. Greer and Ash sat below her, each in their respective thrones. Ash looked ready to do murder, but Greer was grinning like a deranged clown. “What do we have?”

  “Van Helsings.” Mina’s eyes were glazed as she communed with the forest. She drew its power and lent her own in a symbiosis he barely understood but felt thrum through his whole being. “They’re moving through the forest again.”

  “How are they getting through the protections?”

  “They shouldn’t have.” Her gaze turned to him, but she wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing what the forest told her to see. “We need to talk to the witches.”

  If the Van Helsings had gotten into the forest then the protections the witches had put in place were failing... Or someone had let them through. Neither was a pleasant prospect to consider before breakfast. “Have they gotten into the town?”

  Greer’s grin turned even more vicious, and Ash practically leapt off his throne. She frowned, her eyes moving, watching something he couldn’t see. “I don’t know.”

  “Can you handle things here?”

  “More than.” His sotiei called her blade. He prayed she would not be forced to use it, not without him there to protect her.

  “I’m going with you. If the protections have failed, or a witch has let them in, then Selena needs to know.” Ash’s hand moved so quickly not even Dragos could follow it. The silver sword he carried into battle appeared, an exact replica of Mina’s. “I need to make sure she’s safe.”

  Talking to Selena was a good idea. As the coven leader, Selena was in charge of keeping the protections up. Yet they’d failed the town more than once. But Selena wasn’t the type to allow the protections to fail.

  They needed to know what was happening, and why. Selena would have the answers.

  From his expression Greer was torn. “Mina, I...”

  “Stay. Ash and Dragos will check on Mollie.”

  Dragos nodded to Greer. He knew what it was like to have the burning drive to make sure your mate was safe. “I give my word.”

  Greer relaxed. “Then I’ll stay, and protect Mina. You two had better get going. If they’ve gotten into the town we have no way of knowing how much damage they might be inflicting. I’ll contact Lore and have him put out a patrol. If anyone can find Van Helsings in town, it’s him.” The ring of command in Greer’s voice was startling, but neither Mina nor Ash seemed surprised.

  “They’re not quite in town. They’re on the edge of the forest, close to the town. If Lore hurries, he might stop them from entering.” Mina shook her head. “They’re getting more and more clever. How they hid themselves from me I’ll never know.”

  “If they have a psychic who can sense us, they might have one who can hide from us.”

  Greer had a point. The boy, Blake, had settled into Dragos’s home warily, but he hadn’t run. Eddy had been talking to him, introducing him to others like him. They were slowly but surely convincing Blake that his powers were common in Maggie’s Grove, and that he’d be welcome to stay if he chose to do so.

  Unless Dragos missed his guess, the boy would be staying. Whether or not he became a Renfield or chose some other path remained to be seen.

  Dragos took to the sky. Ash had proven he was more than capable of keeping up. Besides, Ash would be drawn to Selena, and that was Dragos’s first stop anyway.

  Sure enough, as he settled on the lawn of Selena’s tiny stone bungalow, the dryad was already there, striding toward the front door like some fae prince, his sword gripped loosely in his hand. He knocked on the door twice and stepped back—a tactic Dragos recognized. Ash was giving himself room to maneuver if the enemy had made it to Selena’s home.

  Selena opened the door. Her dark hair was tousled, and she was wearing black-and-white plaid pajama bottoms with a T-shirt that read Sarcasm: It Beats Choking People to Death. Her feet were bare, the toenails painted a surprisingly dainty pink. He would have expected red or black, considering who it was. “You’re interrupting my Doctor Who marathon.”

  Ash apparently didn’t
care, either about the toenails or Doctor Who. “Van Helsings have gotten into the forest. Twice.”

  She sighed wearily and opened the door wider. “C’mon in. Mr. Tennant will have to wait. Damn it.” She stepped back as they entered her home, and Dragos was once again reminded of why he felt like a bull in a china shop whenever he visited her.

  The woman had a white sofa. White, with some kind of barely there red flower pattern, and smothered in red and white pillows. He avoided sitting on it whenever he visited, because no matter how careful he was, he was terrified of getting it dirty. The white armchair was off-limits too. He was far more comfortable on the large red-and-white checked ottoman, which was where he sat now.

  At least her wooden furniture was scuffed looking and sturdy, well-loved pieces he could see using every day. The high wood and beam ceilings and the stone fireplace counteracted the feminine sofa, and the wooden floor wasn’t a gleaming showcase. People actually walked on it, marring the surface and adding to its charm. She’d painted the walls a warm taupe—with vibrant prints scattered throughout the room—and the lamps she’d placed around were simple, with red bases and white shades. Potted plants sat by the windows, a common feature in most of the homes of the witches he’d visited over the years. Her altar, a square table behind the white armchair, held two silver figurines—one male, the other female—with candles behind each. Having been in her home before, he knew the other tools were stashed away, ready to come out when Selena felt the need to celebrate her connection with the gods.

  It wasn’t how he would choose to decorate, but the juxtaposition of soft and feminine with hard and masculine seemed to suit her personality.

  Ash, of course, plopped himself right down on that pristine, feminine sofa—either unwilling to concede that no male should ever darken its cushions with his uncouth ass or uncaring that, as a dryad, he just might have some dirt on his butt. “How have the Van Helsings breached our defenses?”

  Selena shrugged. “You’re asking me? I’m not one of the witches who maintain the perimeter.”

  Dragos leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “But you are their leader.”