“I don’t want to wait,” she began. “I want to eat you, too.”
“I know, Lilliana.” He kissed her forehead softly. “You have to trust me, though. This cock of mine was made for you. And you will have it as your plaything forever. I promise.”
“That’s a promise I’ll hold you to.”
* * *
16
It was the sound of a hunting horn that woke Lily after a few hours’ sleep in her lover’s arms: the sign that a party was approaching the castle’s walls.
Dundurn was preparing for its tournament and today would be the day that Lily’s future would be determined.
Conor’s arm was locked around her, protective and strong, and she realized that her hands were on his forearm, clenched, holding him as though afraid to let him go. He’d slept in his clothes; a gentlemanly act which had meant that a barrier had remained between them as a protective measure for them both.
Today, she knew, might be the last time she ever saw him, and yet it felt like she’d just met him at last. She knew him now, intimately in a way, much as aspects of his personality continued to puzzle and elude her.
With some reluctance she lifted the heavy limb which encased her and climbed out from underneath it, less self-conscious about her nudity than she had ever been. As she perched on the edge of the bed she turned to admire his sunlit face, stubble carving out the shape of his strong jaw and accentuating the cheekbones that she’d grown to admire. Today was the day when fate—or her family—would determine if she could be with him.
But how could they be together? This tournament was meant for their ilk: shifters; those who could alter their forms into fire breathers, birds of prey, wolves, lions even; not men who had the admittedly impressive ability to read others quite well. Conor was a mortal; a simple man when it came right down to it. For all his human strength he was no match for a giant creature with enormous jaws, talons and canines.
Lily felt herself go weak at the thought of someone injuring him. She would have a good deal of difficulty not thrusting herself in between Conor and any assailant, that one thing was for sure. And yet this was his battle to fight, not hers.
All their lives, she and her brother Rohan had looked after one another. It was simply in her blood to protect those she loved. And this thing—this dull ache that she felt whenever she thought of Conor—it was love, she knew, though she would never consider saying the words. The feeling had settled deep inside her, occupying every fibre of her mind and sending the synapses of her brain shooting messages and chemicals to those parts of her that had never felt alive before now. This man had awakened something inside her that she didn’t know existed, and she never wanted it to go dormant again.
But now it was her fire drake, the phoenix/dragon hybrid that dwelled within her, who was on high alert. With the day ahead would come many strangers entering her parents’ home, and not all would have good intentions. Lily felt herself go stiff at the thought—she needed to keep an eye out for those who might mean them harm, or who were out for power.
As the daughter of Queen Gwynne and the Lords Rauth and Lachlan, she knew that she was in high demand as a mate. There was something in all of it that reminded her of horse breeders in modern times, looking at bloodlines and examining teeth. She would be on display for these men, who would fight for the chance to mate with her; to bed her alongside another in the hopes that she would strengthen them.
That was, after all, what the Ritual was all about: it extracted the powers within all three shifters engaged in the activity. For her mother it had awakened the dragon within, which had never shown itself until she found her way to her men.
But Conor was a problem, Lily knew. With no déor, he would have nothing to offer another man in terms of power, and she couldn’t act as a sort of conductor for his strength. Unfortunately, though, that didn’t stop her desiring him.
She rose at last and wandered towards her window, picking up a robe that had been thrown over the back of a wooden chair and draping it over herself before looking out the window.
Men on horseback roamed the area down below, as did some large creatures: a few wolves, bears, a lion, even. Men who’d traveled some distance for the event, who intended to rip one another to shreds, but not necessarily to kill one another. It was a fine line for shifters. The fact that they usually healed quickly meant that the fights could be brutal; it was only burns from dragons, like Rauth and Lily’s grandmother Freya had suffered, that imbedded themselves deep in the flesh of both the human and déor forms. Nothing could be done to resurrect the flesh that was killed off by such things and so fire-breathing was forbidden at competitions.
But that was a non-issue today, it seemed; Lily didn’t see anyone who looked like a potential drake. Her kind was rare, after all; her grandfather had been one, and her mother. She knew that she was largely sought after as a mate because of her specialness. She carried within her the blood and genes of a line of the strongest, most powerful shifters known to exist.
The downside of that, of course, was the desire to take her family down. It had happened in past and would happen again, she knew.
But for today, Dundurn was aglow with an air of celebration—of the potential for future generations of dragons mixed with other powerful creatures. It was only Lily who felt less than enthusiastic about the potential results.
17
Conor stirred behind her as she stared out the window, her eyes catching a strong-looking young man astride a large white stallion: at first she thought it was Lord Ramsey, but upon closer inspection she realized that this was a younger man, and even larger. He seemed to sense her from below, as he lifted his cleft chin and looked directly into her eyes, which sent a shiver down her spine.
He was handsome, that was for sure. His shoulders were broad and muscular, exposed beneath a leather vest. And his legs seemed enormously strong. He wasn’t built like Rohan, but more like her fathers. Muscular, dense, a protector, a force to be reckoned with.
She found herself momentarily caught up in eyes as she had been in Conor’s the first time she’d locked gazes with him in the classroom in London, which instilled a temporary sense of guilt in her, as though to look upon someone else was disloyal.
For all her conditioning, being raised to learn that she would have two mates, there was within her a strong sense of fairness. It was unfair to Conor to admire someone else, just as it would have been unfair for him to admire other women. And yet it was in her blood, her very genes, to look to other men until she’d found the right one.
The dragon inside her saw an attractive potential mate as she stared at him, and no doubt his dragon was sizing her up as well. Would she satisfy?
She found herself listening to the man behind her as he rose from the bed they’d shared and eyeing the one below, hoping that by some miracle she could be with both, and knowing that it was in all likelihood an impossibility.
A hand reached around her waist and then another, and she found herself moving backwards, pulled by Conor’s strong arms and relieved that he hadn’t caught sight of the scene below. Surely even a man with great fortitude didn’t particularly want to look upon his competition, certainly not when a lot of it had claws and fur.
“How do they look?” he whispered in her ear as she felt his torso press against her back.
“Like shifters,” she laughed. “Big, strong men who want to fight and tear each other up. None of whom have any real interest in me, my mind or my thoughts.”
She turned around and kissed him as his hands came to rest in the small of her back. “I am interested in each of those things,” said Conor, “as well as my unebbing fascination with your body.”
“I’ve noticed that. So a night together didn’t soothe the savage beast, then?”
“It made the beast crave more of you. Just because you have one meal doesn’t mean that you can continue through life never to eat again. I’ve now tasted filet mignon. I don’t want to eat fast food. Not even on
ce, for the rest of my life.”
“Well, you’re in luck. There’s no such thing as burgers and fries in this time.”
“Perfect. I’ll feast on Lilliana, then.”
As his lips moved to her neck a knock sounded at the door.
“Of course,” whispered Lily, trying not to let a fit of laughter erupt. “I suppose I’m expected to perform today, as well.”
Conor dove for the side of the bed, his intention to crawl underneath the far side, but quickly realized that his frame was too broad for such a thing. Lily again stifled laughter as she opened the door to find Lachlan on the other side.
“Hello, sweetest daughter,” he said, grinning. “Are you ready for the day ahead?”
“Not really. Is anyone ever ready for such a thing?”
“If you’re anything like your mother, I’d say no. But that you will find a way to get through it with flying colours.” He walked in to her horror and sat on the edge of the bed. Lily wondered if he could smell Conor. Surely…
“I’ve known for a long time that this day would come,” she admitted, remaining close to the open door. “But as I’m sure you can guess, it’s a little daunting to have a herd of creatures clawing at each other for a chance at your anatomy.”
“I suppose that it must be, to say the least,” said Lachlan. Lily thought she saw his nostrils twitch for a moment as he took in the room’s smells. “Well,” he said, rising quickly and making his way back to her, “It’s my hope that you find the men of your dreams. I suspect that you have an idea what you’d like.”
“I do,” she said. “I can only hope to find such good mates as my mother did.”
Lachlan leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before whispering, “You might want to get him clothed and out of here before Rauth finds him. I’ll send someone by with a fresh set of clothing for a man of—what? Six feet?”
“Six foot two,” she replied, not sure of whether to laugh or cry.
“Good luck,” said Lachlan loudly as he moved into the hallway. But Lily got the distinct impression that the words were meant for Conor.
* * *
18
The stage was set at last for the tournament. Just outside of Dundurn’s fortified walls of grey stone was a large field which had been groomed for the battle to come. Wooden benches surrounded it for spectators from within the dire wolf clan, as well as the noble parents of the competitors.
Lily sat under an awning which had been erected for her family members. Before her spread the open field, and in the distance she saw the men who were vying for a position with her, mingling and pondering what was to come.
The tournaments were not a new phenomenon; for centuries shifters had employed them to determine leaders within their packs. But Lily had never watched one, and the thought of what was to come made her hands grip the edges of her seat so that she left indentations in the wood. The men in the distance were so large, so strong. And Conor would soon be among them, fighting for the right to her body.
Among the men she saw Lord Graeme, who looked as though he could hold his own against them under any circumstance. His déor, she knew, would be larger and stronger than many of the others. As her mother had proven nearly two decades earlier, fighting off a dragon was nearly impossible. Lily had only to hope that Conor wouldn’t be up against him.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, anticipating the arrival of her new lover. He’d taken the clothing that he was offered and given Lily a final kiss before assuring her that he would be fine. But the violent war that was raging within her belly told her otherwise.
It was only when a hand touched her upper arm that she jumped and turned to her right. Conor was not with the others; he stood immediately next to her.
“Keep an eye out,” he said. “Something is going to happen, though I don’t yet know what.”
“You mean to you?” asked Lily, concerned. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can take you back…”
“No, I don’t mean that. Someone here is not what he seems.”
“Well, that’s mysterious. And disturbing.”
“Don’t worry, my little dragonkin,” he said, smiling. “In the end all will come out right.”
With that he left her with a war in her stomach as brutal as it had ever been. Conor’s gift of foresight wasn’t quite acute enough to be helpful, and now she felt only worry. If things went badly between clan members, it could set off a war.
It was Rauth who moved to the center of the tournament ring to make the announcement, as Lachlan, Gwynne and Rohan joined Lily in the family’s seating area. Rauth still walked with a slight limp even years after sustaining a massive injury at the hands of Gwynne’s dragon father, but he had a noble and powerful air about him. The young men who stood by looked wide-eyed and naïve next to Lily’s experienced father, who’d been a great leader for decades alongside his cousin Lachlan.
“The battle will begin momentarily,” he said. “The shifters will fight one on one until we’re down to two. There will be no killing, no burning of flesh. This is only a matter of pinning a man in his shifted form or outwitting the other, to prove whose déor is strongest and most worthy.”
It was as Lily had feared; Conor wouldn’t be able to shift. How would he fight?
As though reading her mind, Rauth continued: “Should a man fail to shift, he will have to take on his opponent in human form. Needless to say, the shifted opponent will have the advantage, so I advise that you all take advantage of your gifts. Best of luck to you all,” He gestured with his hands, welcoming them to the fold before moving towards the family’s seating area. As a sort of afterthought, he shouted, “May the best men find themselves with my daughter.”
“The best man is still a human,” thought Lily. “If only my parents understood that.”
Two competitors came out: men Lily hadn’t noticed before. They walked in loose-fitting linen clothing into the ring, facing one another. Each was handsome, muscular and tall; they were like the gladiators that Lily had read about in history books. But it was only a matter of seconds before their clothes had torn away and a great wolf and a cheetah stood facing one another.
The cheetah was quick, unsurprisingly, and leapt around the wolf as the large beast took bites out of the air which surrounded it, missing its opponent by mere inches.
In the end, it won their match, exhausting the wolf with its speed and leaping at its throat, ultimately holding it to the ground until the wolf lay still in surrender.
Lily applauded politely, unexcited by either man. But there were many yet to come.
Various pairs fought, the winners moving to their own circle where they were clothed once again and prepared for the next round. Graeme was to compete in one of the final pairs.
Lily’s eyes had migrated to the men who awaited their turns in a small area where Conor stood, attentively watching the spectacle before him. What was his plan? Surely he knew that he couldn’t win this thing.
But before his turn came, Lord Graeme was called up to compete against a giant of a man named Dermott. Lily had noticed him as he stood out above the others; he must have been seven feet tall, at least. Something in him was barbaric and raw, as though the human were missing entirely. Whatever his déor was, she could sense that it dominated him.
The two men proceeded into the ring, Dermott shifting almost immediately into a huge bear. Graeme paced around him, assessing his form while remaining in his human skin. He knew that a déor was not likely to attack a human; it would be dishonourable.
He could see that the bear had enormous teeth and more enormous claws. But other than that, there was nothing in particular that would threaten his dragon. The bear would be slow, clumsy. And he didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in his drawer.
And so Graeme moved towards Lily’s family, intending to shift there and to reveal his dragon to them before proving his worth in battle.
He stood and bowed to them, smiling. As he stood up, he looked at Lily, pausing for a
moment of eye contact with her. She found herself enjoying his face; it really was handsome. She could do worse than Graeme as a second mate.
It was in that moment that a voice resonated through her mind as clearly as though Conor were standing right beside her. He was saying, “Grab him, pull him away. The bear intends to kill him. Do it now.”
She could see Conor, still far off, but running towards her. He’d spoken to her with his gift, planting the words in her mind, and she knew that he meant business.
Lily stood and darted towards Graeme, who was still in the midst of acknowledging her family. As she sprinted, she saw the enormous bear behind the young man, charging at full speed with its massive teeth bared.
Without a word she grabbed Graeme’s arm. As she did so, she felt a hand on her shoulder, seeming to pull her sideways.
In a moment she was shooting through time and space, her hand still firmly wrapped around Graeme’s forearm. The other hand remained on her, committed to hanging on as they leapt to modern-day London.
And seconds later she stood once again in her spacious flat, Lord Graeme standing disoriented before her and the hand which had been on her shoulder sliding down her back. Without turning she knew that it was Conor’s, and that he had made the trip alongside them.
And she felt in that moment that perhaps she had found her way to her mates, albeit in an unconventional manner.
But she needed to be certain.
“I suspect that you have a few questions for me,” she said to the enormous man who was now holding his head, attempting to figure out what had just occurred. “But first perhaps you could tell me, Lord Graeme, why a gigantic bear seems so hell-bent on assassinating you.”
* * *
To be continued in the second instalment of
Seeking her Mates, Escape.
Teaser from Escape, the next book in the serial
Torn: A Dragon Shifter BBW Menage Serial (Seeking Her Mates Book 1) Page 9
