Faith knew how to work them both like an expert. Jag was the first to come again, this orgasm accompanied by an explosion of a grunt beneath Light. Perhaps it was because Light knew she’d made Jag come while pleasing him with her mouth, but Light found his release the moment after. Pleasure shot through him, taking hold of every part of him, forcing him to moan and rock his hips, thrusting his length deeper into Faith’s mouth as his seed shot out. She did not pull away; she took him in, swallowed him, all the while gazing up at him. It was a sight Light would never forget and a feeling he’d remember for a long time.
Light stumbled back, pulling his cock from her mouth as he nearly collapsed on the floor beside Jag. They both breathed heavily, and Faith only grinned as she lifted her pelvis off Jag, exposing his softening cock, wet with the juices of sex and cum.
This hadn’t been what he’d expected when Faith led him and Jag out of the room and away from the two Dracon, but Light welcomed it. After all, it’d been far too long since they were together. Had to be rectified sooner or later, right?
Faith laid herself between them, resting the back of her hands on their chests, one on each. Her body felt warm, her skin flushed. She always got a little pink during the act, and her body took its time to calm down. “I missed you guys so much,” she said, glancing at each of them. “I love you.” She spoke to them both simultaneously.
Closing his eyes, Light whispered, “I love you, too.”
“Not as much as I love you, though,” Jag spoke, and even though Light’s eyes were closed, he knew the Malus was grinning. He would’ve smacked him, given him a retort of some kind, but Light was just too tired, too exerted. In a good way, of course.
Faith giggled. “Any idea where we’ll go after this? To find Cam and Finn—I don’t know how we’re going to do it. They could be anywhere by now, just like those missing students.”
The last thing Light wanted to do was think of his missing brother, the missing Human he didn’t particularly like, but after Faith said it, he started to wonder. What were the odds they would go missing the same night Faith did? If the Fae didn’t grab them, where did they go?
And, perhaps the worst doubt of all crossed Light’s mind: what if they were all connected? Cam, Finn, the missing Human students. That…was not a good thought.
Chapter Twenty
The Fae threw her, threw them, another party the moment the sun fell. Everyone was drinking, except Faith, and everyone was merry. The Fae were still nervous when it came to the two Dracon, but Faith couldn’t blame them. Even though Hart had sworn they were not enemies, the Fae had a long and dark history with Dracyrus’s kind. Their nervousness was well-placed.
Faith sat with Jag and Light on the pink grass, under the vast expanse of the Eldertree. Every time she looked up at the black sky, she couldn’t help but recall the Upperworld, and how bright and colorful even the night sky was. Was it a world she would ever see, or would she die in the Second? Would this war, even though it was no longer with the Dread King, kill her? Still, even though she knew the Fae woman couldn’t be free to her own devices, that they had to defeat her, she didn’t want to die.
Call her selfish. Sue her. Whatever. Faith was quite partial to living and breathing.
God, it was so good to have them back. Or at least some of them. She did miss Cam’s quiet intensity and, despite herself, Finn’s incessant insults and glares. Her group didn’t feel complete without them. She didn’t feel complete, as much of a wussy thing it was to admit. She didn’t feel whole. It was almost like a part of her was missing. A piece of her heart gone.
Faith had no idea what they were going to do. Return to the Malus tribe? Do something. She wasn’t just going to let them disappear. They had to find Cam and Finn, had to figure out where the missing students were, and fight the Fae bitch who wanted to rule everything and everyone, all because she never got the one thing she wanted eons ago: Dracyrus.
All of this. All the death, the war, the fall of freaking kingdoms—all because a Fae was spurned. All because a Human had somehow stumbled into the Second and used Dracyrus’s sister, as men often did. Because his sister flung herself out of the window of one of their tallest towers and killed herself, unable to live with herself after what happened. Faith was still shocked when she thought about it—all of this could’ve been avoided if no one had been an asshole.
Although, she reprimanded herself, Dracyrus was under no obligation to return the Fae’s feelings. No one was obligated to love someone else. Love just happened. Faith would know—she had strong, heavy feelings for multiple men. Her grandma would have an aneurysm if she knew all Faith had done with them.
Jag had taken a cup from a Fae, the liquid glowing, and Faith had warned him to go at it slowly. That stuff was stronger than it looked. And it might taste sweet, but one cup affected behavior. One single cup. Light had refrained, refusing to lose himself or his capability to function.
Faith excused herself, moving through the crowd of Fae, finding Vyserous watching in horror as a group of three Fae, two men and one woman, got down to business at the base of the Eldertree. He nearly jumped when he saw Faith was beside him, and he was quick to say, “I wasn’t watching—I mean, I was, but I wasn’t doing it because I…”
She couldn’t help but laugh. It was kind of adorable, seeing a Dracon tongue-tied. For some reason, Faith had thought they were all like Dracyrus, stoic and stern, menacing and intimidating. Not some tongue-tied, bumbling idiot. He was cute.
Not…not cute cute, but…oh, whatever. There was no salvaging that particular thought.
“Because you get your rocks off by watching other people have sex?” Faith offered to the fumbling Dracon. If the skin under his scales wasn’t a charcoal grey, she was certain he’d be blushing.
“I…I do not know what that means,” Vyserous spoke cautiously, purposefully giving his back to the frisky group of Fae. “I was…simply curious because I—I do not understand the appeal of doing…that.”
The appeal? The appeal of sex? Faith was shocked. How old was this Dracon? Was he basically a teenager in disguise, or was he so turned off by sex he’d never truly thought about it? Either way, she was so startled and caught off-guard she hardly knew what to say.
It took her a minute to gather her thoughts and tell him, “Well, it does feel good.”
“Yes, but there are other things that feel good as well, such as riding Fang.”
She gave the Dracon a look. “Not the same kind of good, trust me.” Faith studied him, watching as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, how he could hardly stand to look at her in the eyes. “I assume that means you’ve never done it?”
Vyserous was ungodly slow in shaking his head.
Faith wanted to ask him why—but truly, it was none of her business. She and Vyserous were like strangers to each other, so it would be a bit like oversharing. So she didn’t ask why; she only said, “I never did either, before I found out I was the Harbinger. Sometimes it takes the right person—Dracon—to bring out the need to do it.” She thought on it. “Or, maybe you won’t want to do it even with the right person. Some people don’t like it.”
“My mother wants me to…join a nethelell and…” Vyserous had a difficult time saying the next part, fumbling over his words in the most adorable, awkward way, “Have a child. If she cannot birth a daughter before she dies, the first female of my line would…become the next High Queen.”
Faith knew enough about Dracon kind to know that a child birthed inside a nethelell would be considered each and every Dracon’s child that was in the nethelell, even if Vyserous hadn’t actually fathered the baby himself.
Poor guy. All the pressure on him, being a prince and all that.
“Responsibilities,” Faith whined. “A bunch of horse shit.”
“I know not what horse shit is, but I am inclined to agree,” Vyserous muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is there a reason you came looking for me? Or were you looking for Dracyrus?” The way he spok
e, almost like he hoped she was looking for Dracyrus and not him. He was anything but the charming prince he should be. He was totally awkward, wholly uneasy, and not a very good public speaker, at least when things got weird.
Like when he was talking about sex, for example.
Faith stared up at him. He wasn’t as tall as Dracyrus or Light, but he was intimidating all the same. It’s how Dracon were, with their scales, their metallic eyes and their sharp teeth, not to mention their horns. Although, Vyserous’s were nubby, only starting to grow their points and scale his forehead like a mountain. Truly, his horns put Dracyrus’s tall, curled ones on a pedestal.
“Is it so impossible that I wanted to talk to you?” Okay, she might’ve wanted Dracyrus, but if Vyserous was going to travel with them, she had to get to know him, too. One didn’t travel around kingdoms with strangers. At least, not in her experience.
Then again, in her experience, she’d slept with all the people she’d traveled with, and the last thing she needed right now was another penis.
Vyserous lifted his shoulders once.
“You’re a prince. I don’t think I’ve ever met a prince before,” she said.
“We’re not that special,” he told her, believing in his words, if his tone of voice meant anything. “We’re much more common than princesses. If I was a princess, then I would understand—” He stopped, probably realizing how stupid he sounded.
Faith studied him for a bit. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No. All of my mother’s other births have been stillborn. Dracon females are…intensely difficult to impregnate. Not that—” Vyserous coughed. “—not that I would know.” Again, the embarrassment took over his features, and she had a hard time reconciling the fact that he was an embarrassed Dracon. The two just didn’t seem to go together.
“I don’t have siblings either,” she said. “My mother got her tubes tied after giving birth to me, and she never really dated. If my mother and my grandma had their way, I’d stay away from all men, no matter what the race.” Faith blinked, realizing her family curse revolving around men had been all on purpose. None of it was accidental.
When Vyserous said nothing, she added, “Do you know where Dracyrus is? Or if you could point me in the right direction, at least…” Vyserous wasn’t much of a talker. She couldn’t stand there and keep making small talk with him; not now. There were other things on her mind suddenly, things which needed to be taken care of.
Dracyrus, mostly.
Vyserous pointed. “Last I knew, he was on the outskirts of the tree, with Fang.” Under his breath, he added, “The traitor. I think she likes him better than me, which is preposterous, because I raised her, trained her—” It was clear he could’ve gone on and on about his winged creature, so Faith stopped him by setting a hand on his arm. His golden eyes locked on her.
He was…stronger than he looked, but now wasn’t the time to lose herself in Dracon muscles. They were all strong, all muscled. Their kind was beefier than the rest.
Faith was quick to drop her hand. “Thank you,” she said before hurrying off, thinking, that was awkward. Shouldn’t have done that. She had to keep her hands to herself when it came to Vyserous. He probably wasn’t used to physical contact, especially with a girl. He probably thought she liked him now, which she didn’t. She was just…she wasn’t sure. Trying to stop him from rambling, or something.
She meandered past the crowds, ignoring the Fae getting to know each other quite well and in public, for all eyes to see, following the direction which Vyserous pointed. Faith found Dracyrus a good ways away, petting the scaled face of Fang, his dragon-like pet that was nearly the size of a school bus back home.
Faith paused, remembering him in her dream, how Grumpy had practically thrown himself all over him, and how Dracyrus had adored the cat almost instantly. He clearly loved animals, a lot more than he liked other people. Her mind pictured him overrun with kittens and puppies, swallowed by a sea of cuteness, and she started to laugh—he’d probably love it.
Dracyrus did not turn to face her when he demanded, “What are you laughing at?” He was busy running his hand along Fang’s face, and Fang let out a soft purring noise, enjoying his attention.
“You,” she said.
That caused him to freeze and turn his horned head to her. “You are laughing at me? Explain, before I force you to.”
A part of her wanted to egg him on, ask him exactly how he thought he could force her to do anything, but Faith relented. “I never pictured you as an animal lover, Dracyrus.” She never pictured him as a lot of things, actually. For example, Faith never thought she’d picture him as someone she’d grow to care about. Wrong on both fronts. An animal lover and someone she needed by her side.
With one hand still on Fang’s cheek, he turned his head slightly, his eyes black in the failing light as he outstretched his other hand toward her. Inviting her closer without a word. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get closer to that dragon-like thing, but it seemed to adore Dracyrus. Hopefully the beast wouldn’t flip out and try to attack her or anything.
Faith tentatively moved closer to him, stopping only when she stood beside him and the creature. Its eyes, round and metallic, almost as large as her entire hand itself, watched her. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think Fang likes me too much.”
“Earn her respect, then,” Dracyrus said, taking Faith’s hand and setting it on the side of Fang’s face, near his other, which hadn’t moved.
The scales were softer than she anticipated. Almost like a snake’s scales, but smoother, less likely to catch if rubbed the wrong way. Fang, Faith realized, was also a she. Not what she was expecting. “How did you earn her respect?”
“Some things are instinctual,” Dracyrus whispered, moving the hand resting on Fang to rest above hers.
“Some things,” Faith repeated, feeling warmth flowing from his hand, straight into hers. His hand, scaled with white, pearlescent scales, dwarfed hers. Everything about him made her feel small. “And the other things?” What was she even saying? She had no clue. Just trying to fill the silence, the void.
“Other things are learned,” he spoke, his other hand suddenly on her back, curling around her side in an almost possessive display. “Taught over time. Some things, however, simply catch you by surprise.”
Faith knew that one well enough. Her whole life lately had been a whirlwind of shock and surprise. She could use some downtime, some relaxation. She could use a few days off. Hell, even a vacation. Was it too much to ask?
Yes, yes it was.
Then Dracyrus asked something of her she never expected him to: “Would you like to ride her?”
Ride her? As in, get on her back and soar in the sky? Faith wasn’t sure. Did she? What if she fell? Splattering on the ground like a bug on a windshield was not something on her bucket list, but she was intrigued. Still, even though she was nervous, she found herself saying, “Sure.” Probably not the best thing to do—wander off with Dracyrus—but she couldn’t say no.
Dracyrus tapped Fang on her nose, and the dragon-like creature laid flat on the ground, offering its back to them both. Dracyrus helped Faith climb up, situating herself between two spikes on the creature’s back. He heaved himself up soon after, pushing against her as he sat directly behind her.
Damn, was he big or what?
As Dracyrus knocked his heels against Fang’s sides and the creature took off in a run before leaping up, flapping its wings, Faith had momentary doubts. Something she would’ve thought before…before all of this. This would be the perfect place for Dracyrus to kill her. Toss her off Fang when they were miles in the sky.
But this wasn’t the past. This was now, and things had changed. The thought faded in her mind just as quickly as it came.
Faith felt a hand wrapping around her stomach, the other around her shoulder, holding onto the back spike before her. It was hard for her to think while feeling his hand on her stomach, while feeling his front
pressed against her back. It was difficult for her to do anything other than breathe. Hell—even breathing was harder than it should have been.
Don’t focus on the hand. Don’t focus on the hand. Don’t…
All she could do was focus on the fucking hand.
Fang soared up, above the Eldertree’s height as the world turned to black. The only thing lighting up the sky was the Eldertree’s leaves, and Faith closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the cool air, the wind whipping her cheeks. She was holding onto the spike before her, but with Dracyrus firmly gripping both her and the same spike, she sluggishly released her hold and held her hands up, arms out. Like a roller coaster. Like this was a ride at an amusement park.
She grinned. “This is amazing!”
It was more than amazing. It was spectacular. Riding a dragon, pretty much. No big deal here. This wasn’t something out of damn fantasy—this was real life, and it was happening to her, right now. How amazing was it? There were no words to describe how good she felt, the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Faith peered around them, at the world beneath them. She could see the curvature of the world, and she wondered what else there was here. How many continents this world had, how many animals left undiscovered. This world held mysteries and magic; it blew her mind to think there was more to it than she could ever hope to know.
Dracyrus’s grip around her stomach was like iron, like steel, whatever the hardest grip could be. Inescapable, not like she would try to escape. Up here, there wasn’t anywhere left to go. It was only the large expanse of a world below them, Fang under them, and her and Dracyrus together.
His chest rumbled behind her, and his voice was low when he told her, “The cloak looks good on you.”
She brought her hand to her neck, where the fur of the cloak sat around her throat. “It’s yours,” Faith said, turning her head somewhat to look at him. The best she could do with their current positions.
The Lionheart (The Harbinger Book 4) Page 14
