Aeran & Rhys (Dragon Hearts 7)

by Carole Mortimer

  Cezar Fescaru’s daughter.

  Aeran’s expression was just as bleak and full of accusation as he moved to stand beside Rhys.

  It was too much.

  Lack of food, too much emotion, too much truth in just a matter of hours, caused Cristina’s eyes to roll to the back of her head as she fainted for only the second time in her life.

  Chapter 8

  “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Rhys paced the confines of the sitting room of Aeran’s suite.

  Aeran sat beside Cristina as she lay unconscious on the couch, where Rhys had placed her after scooping her up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs. “It changes nothing for me.” There was an edge of censure in his tone. “Cristina isn’t responsible for her father’s actions.” He smoothed back the shiny curtain of her hair from the pallor of her cheeks.

  “It changes nothing in that regard for me either,” his brother dismissed impatiently. “Cristina is still and will remain our mate. That wasn’t what I was talking about. Until we deal with Vasile, Cristina will remain in great danger. The question is, are we of more help to her if we don’t complete the mating with her immediately, and so keep the majority of our attention concentrated on keeping her safe, or will she be more protected as our claimed mate?”

  Aeran understood his brother’s concern. For at least three days after the initial claiming bite, the dragon shifters were totally concentrated on their fated mate, repeating that claiming again and again until the bond was unbreakable.

  Shit, they hadn’t even told Cristina yet about the mating barb on their cocks. It only appeared during sex with a mate and would lock them inside her until their dragon believed his seed had taken root. Dylan, their healer, had now developed a serum that would prevent conception until their mate was ready to produce offspring, but that wouldn’t stop the barb from locking on as he and Rhys fucked and claimed Cristina until they were all thoroughly exhausted.

  A period in time when only pleasuring their mate would exist for both of them.

  Admittedly, it would also ensure they never left Cristina’s side, but the mating frenzy was also a dangerous driving force that could leave her and them vulnerable to attack. Their dragons would rip to shreds anyone who tried to harm their mate, but the time it took to break through the haze of the mating fever might mean they were too late to save her.

  Aeran had sensed through his bond with Rhys that both their emotions when they learned who Cristina really was, Fescaru’s daughter and not his mistress, were a mixture of relief and anger. The former because she had never been the lover of the much older man, the latter because she hadn’t chosen to share that knowledge with them herself.

  Trust Nikolai to know. That wily bastard seemed to know everything that happened within the Markovic territory. Although, to give the Russian his due, he had seemed apologetic rather than censorious when he revealed the truth of Cristina’s identity to them. The Russian had also come to Wales, along with several of his men, to help them protect Cristina.

  Cristina Fescaru.

  Okay, so that wasn’t the name on her birth certificate or her passport, but that was exactly who she was: Cezar Fescaru’s daughter.

  But more importantly, she was Rhys and Aeran’s mate.

  “We wait,” Aeran now stated. “I’m not suggesting we stop making love to her,” he added dryly as his brother scowled. “I don’t think that’s even possible at this stage. But, if we can, we hold off on giving her the mating bite until this danger to her has been dealt with.”

  Rhys obviously fought a battle inside himself for several long seconds before giving an abrupt nod of agreement. “What do we do about the fact she didn’t tell us who she really is?”

  Aeran gave a slow and wicked smile. “I believe we agreed it’s my turn to spank her next time she misbehaved.”

  Some of the tension eased from Rhys’s shoulders. “And my turn to watch while you do.”

  “But afterwards…”

  Rhys’s eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Afterwards, we’ll leave her in no doubt as to exactly who she belongs to.”

  Cristina squeezed her lids shut at the sense of foreboding washing over her as she slowly roused from the absolute blackness of her faint. As if what awaited her once she opened her eyes was much worse than the situation that had caused her to faint in the first place.

  The arrival of Nikolai Volkov to Wales.

  Rhys and Aeran leaving with their brother Nathaniel to talk to the Russian.

  Meeting three of the Pendragon brothers’ mates.

  Izzi’s gentleness.

  Billie’s friendliness.

  Gayle’s animosity.

  A perfectly understandable animosity when it was revealed Cristina’s father had ordered Billie to assassinate Gayle.

  And then Aeran’s and Rhys’s anger when they caught her. The accusation in their eyes that told her they now knew exactly who she was.

  Cezar Fescaru’s daughter.

  If Aeran and Rhys knew, then so shortly would the rest of their family, and they would all hate her.

  Including Aeran and Rhys?

  Cristina’s sense of foreboding returned with a vengeance at the thought of having Rhys and Aeran hate her.

  Because, despite not having known them for very long, Cristina knew she felt the same bond with them both they claimed they felt for her. That she felt safe when she was with them. Perhaps, as their mate, even loved.

  How safe and loved would she feel now that they both knew she was Cezar’s daughter? A man who had tried to have one of their brother’s mates killed by another of those mates. Bad enough they had believed she was Cezar’s mistress, but to know she was his daughter, his blood…!

  “Keeping your eyes closed is only delaying your punishment, Cristina.”

  “Aeran will be the one to have the privilege of spanking you this time,” Rhys drawled.

  They were going to spank her again?

  What happened after the spanking? Would they throw her out onto the Welsh mountainside for the crows to eat? Or simply hand her over to Nikolai Volkov, who would no doubt take her back to London and hand her over to the Romanians. Or perhaps the Russian would deal with her himself. After which she would never be seen again. Just like her father.

  She hadn’t had time to absorb that information earlier, but the full weight of that loss was now starting to crash down on her.

  Rhys seemed to read at least some of her thoughts. “Nikolai told us who you are, Cristina.”

  Because he can do that, Cristina reminded herself. He and Aeran both could sense her emotions and, in turn, connect them to thoughts.

  “Open your eyes and talk to us,” Rhys instructed harshly.

  She had seen the accusation in their eyes earlier and wasn’t sure she could bear to look at it again. But what real choice did she have? She couldn’t just continue to lie here with her eyes shut, as she had last time. Because they knew she was awake.

  Cristina drew in a deep breath before raising her lids to look at the two dragon shifters who not so long ago had claimed she was their mate.

  Rhys stood over by the window, his expression unreadable.

  Aeran sat in the armchair across from her, one eyebrow raised in question as he patted his thighs in invitation.

  Cristina’s thoughts raced as she slowly sat up. Surely, if Aeran and Rhys intended throwing her out or handing her over to Nikolai Volkov for the Russian to then give to the Romanians, they wouldn’t put themselves to the bother of spanking her first.

  What the hell—!

  Was she actually welcoming the idea of being spanked this time because it was also a measure of the affection these two men felt for her?

  She’d only been in Wales a short time, known she was Aeran and Rhys’s mate for a matter of hours, and already her thinking was off. It wasn’t affectionate to spank a woman. It was…well it was… Arousing, Cristina acknowledged with an inner groan. As Aeran and Rhys knew only too well.

  She
moistened the dryness of her lips. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Well, an apology wouldn’t come amiss,” Rhys rasped. “But it can wait until after you’ve been spanked.”

  “I don’t—”

  “We’re not asking, Cristina.” Aeran sounded angrier than she had ever heard him. “Now get yourself over here and bare your arse for us.”

  She winced at the instant tightening between her thighs and the feeling of her nipples engorging. “I don’t see the point—”

  Rhys crossed the room in two strides. “Aeran said we aren’t asking!” He stood her up, ripping the sweats from her lower body and then dragging her across the room to press her facedown over his brother’s hard thighs. “I think, in future, it might just be easier, and save on clothing, to leave her naked all the time,” he remarked conversationally.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Aeran agreed as his arm pressed down over the middle of Cristina’s back. “What are you being punished for, Cristina?” he demanded to know.

  She swallowed nervously. Not because she was uncomfortable at her nakedness in front of these two men—she was far beyond the stage of feeling in the least self-conscious when they both made it clear they preferred her naked anyway—but because she was having to say the words out loud to them for the first time. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit to after the things she had learned about her father this evening.

  It had only been a few years since she had known Cezar was her father, but it was now becoming obvious to her how ruthless the man had been. That her father had been a monster who had ordered the death of at least one innocent woman, possibly two.

  What else had he been involved in besides murder?

  Prostitution? Drugs? Guns?

  Had she inwardly known these things all along and chosen to ignore them? Buried her head in the sand for the last eight years, pretended, since coming to London, her father could never be involved in anything so disgusting as prostitution or selling drugs.

  If she had, then those blinkers had been well and truly wrenched from her eyes when Gayle revealed that Billie had come to Wales to kill her on Cezar’s instructions, an accusation Billie had confirmed. Neither woman had any reason to lie.

  She breathed out shakily. “Because I’m Cezar Fescaru’s daughter.”

  “What the hell—?” Aeran landed a resounding smack across her bare bottom cheeks. “Try again,” he advised grimly.

  “I… But…” She turned her head to look at him, finding herself looking into fierce amethyst-colored eyes as he glared right back at her. “What else is there?” Cristina shook her head in confusion. “You already spanked me for running away. I wasn’t rude to your brothers or any of their mates. I didn’t even see Nikolai Volkov—although I’m going to,” she added determinedly. “What other reason is there to spank me?” God, even saying the words made her feel hot, between her thighs plump and wet.

  An arousal she knew Aeran and Rhys could smell as well as feel.

  “Well, it sure as fuck isn’t because of who your father is.” Rhys came down on his haunches beside her head. “Our father was Uther Pendragon, a man who apparently fucked ten goddesses in a week and produced the ten of us before going on to father Arthur with a human woman.” His lips twisted. “Not exactly a shining example of fatherhood.”

  When he put it that way…

  “You’re being punished for not being honest with us,” Aeran bit out decisively. “For not telling us yourself you’re Fescaru’s daughter and not his mistress.”

  “You were the ones who assumed that. I never actually said—”

  “You made no attempt to correct that assumption.”

  “Because I was scared,” she defended. “My father was missing, probably dead. All his men had disappeared too. I had no proof that the two of you weren’t the ones responsible for their disappearance.”

  The two brothers exchanged a glance before Rhys answered her. “We did not kill your father or his men.”

  But it was obvious from the glance these two men gave each other that they knew who had. Nikolai Volkov, perhaps? “I wasn’t to know that.”

  “You know now,” Rhys rasped, threading his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back painfully so that she had no choice but to look at him. “You will not lie to us again, do you understand? By omission or in any other way.”

  “Your life might depend on it,” Aeran bit out.

  Cristina swallowed nervously. “Do you intend handing me over to Volkov?”

  “What the fuck…!” Rhys released her to rise impatiently to his feet and step away. As if he might do her actual physical harm if he didn’t. “We are not handing you over to anyone.”

  “You’re ours,” Aeran grated.

  “Then why is he here if not to take me back to London with him?”

  Rhys scowled at her. “You truly believe we would allow that?”

  “I don’t know either of you well enough to know what you would do! Also, a couple of your brothers have every reason to hate me. Gayle told me my father sent Billie here to kill her.” She sighed.

  “I can imagine how she did that,” Aeran rasped his impatience with his outspoken sister-in-law. “Grigor will ensure she does not do anything to hurt you again,” he added grimly.

  “By chaining her to the bed?”

  “By any means he deems necessary,” Rhys bit out.

  “But no doubt it will start with a spanking.” Aeran gave Cristina her another hard smack on her already throbbing bottom.

  “You’re all so…so physical in your punishments.”

  “Because all our mates are stubborn and headstrong twenty-first-century human women!” Rhys muttered in disgust.

  Cristina let that one pass. Basically because, having now met some of those mates, she knew it was true. “Why is Volkov here if not to take me away with him?” she persisted.

  “He came to warn us that Vasile Fescaru, your father’s cousin, is now the new head of the Romanian Mafia. Do you know him?”

  “I told you, I never met any of the family except my father.” Even the men protecting her had been instructed by her father not to speak to her. “Warn you…?” she picked up warily.

  “Yes,” Rhys confirmed. “Believe it or not, Nikolai is on your side.”

  Her eyes widened. “My side? Does—does this Vasile want me?” Her stomach gave a sickening lurch at the reason Vasile might want her. That her father’s cousin might consider her that “loose end” that needed to be eliminated.

  “Even without Volkov’s help, we would never allow Vasile to take you,” Rhys stated.

  “In other words, don’t worry my silly little head over it?” Cristina snapped.

  “Talk to her, Aeran, before I do or say something we will all regret.” Rhys strode back to stare out the window at the starlit sky, shoulders tense, hands clasped tightly together behind his back.

  “You’re being naughty again to taunt us in this way, mate.” Aeran managed to control his own anger by placing another hard smack to Cristina’s already reddened bottom. Touching her in any way seemed to soothe him. Calm down his dragon as well as himself. As well as arouse him. His cock was so hard, it was painful. “We’re honor bound to protect you at all times. We would never, never”—he administered another smack for emphasis—“allow anyone to harm a hair on your head. Nor would we do so ourselves. Unless it was as a way of reminding you to have a care for your own safety,” he added as Cristina would have protested he was hurting her now. “You will apologize to Rhys, and then you will apologize to both of us. After which, you’ll take your punishment and then…then we might feel inclined to show you our forgiveness.” Aeran, and his throbbing cock, knew exactly what form that forgiveness was going to take.

  “You really aren’t angry that Cezar was my father?”

  “Are you angry that Uther Pendragon was ours?” Aeran reasoned. “He did father ten sons with different women in a week, and from all accounts, he was a vicious bastard. Does that make us t
he same as him? Make us less in your eyes?”

  “No, of course not. I just—”

  “You’re too prone to drawing unacceptable conclusions where we’re concerned.” Aeran landed another hard smack to the plumpness of her bottom, enjoying watching the way those smooth orbs wobbled with the force of the blow.

  Cristina winced. “But you both seemed so angry earlier on the stairs?”

  Aeran scowled. “Because you kept a secret from us. A huge secret. One we didn’t like having to hear from another man.”

  She swallowed. “Is Nikolai Volkov as arrogant and ruthless as my father always said he was?”

  Aeran grimaced. “Probably more so.”

  “But he’s your friend?”

  Rhys gave a snort as he turned. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Then what is he?”

  Rhys shrugged. “We’re allies, of sorts.”

  “He knows about—about the dragon thing?”

  Rhys’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Yes, he knows about the ‘dragon thing.’ He also helped when Gayle and Billie were in danger, several times. We now feel obligated to help him when necessary.”

  “I don’t understand.” Cristina gave a slow shake of her head. “Gayle said she stole from her employer on my father’s instructions…”

  “Gregori Markovic was her employer.”

  Her eyes widened. “The head of the Russian bratva in London? Nikolai Volkov’s boss?”

  “Exactly,” Rhys drawled.

  Dear Lord, this situation became more and more complicated.

  Aeran eyed her speculatively. “From what Nikolai told us earlier, Fescaru had you protected from the day you were born, first in Romania and then in England.” An intriguing idea had occurred to him at learning that.

  “Yes…”

  Aeran’s cock gave an approving throb. “Exactly how well were you protected, Cristina?”

  Rhys turned to look at him, the scowl on his brow dissipating and a bright glitter appearing in his eyes as he realized where Aeran’s questions were leading.

  Aeran administered another smack. “How well, Cristina? Answer me!” He landed an even harder blow when she continued to remain silent.