by Ophelia Bell
He released Rafe’s cock only long enough to beg. “Oh, God, harder. Please.”
Roka squeezed Trevor’s erection almost painfully as though giving Trevor a message, then began to steadily stroke him and fuck him to a point where Trevor lost his mind completely. He only vaguely heard the two men exchange words that sounded something like, “Finish him.”
Then he was engulfed in nothing but white. White before his eyes, white pleasure when he came. He tasted the salty sweet heat of Rafe’s cum shooting into the back of his throat and a similar sensation in his ass. The feeling accompanied by a harmony of deep cries into the sky and that perfect rush of energy that sped through every cell in his body. The world tilted and all he could see was blue sky framed by the green canopy above. He forgot entirely where he was for who knew how long, until someone began shaking him.
He blinked his eyes into the bright sunlight and Roka’s smirking face where it hovered over him.
“I fucked you pretty well, didn’t I?”
Trevor had an urge to punch the cocky expression off the man’s face, but chose diplomacy and humor instead. He was better at those things than violence, anyway.
“You might as well have knocked me unconscious with that cock.”
Roka laughed, an odd sonorous sound that definitely didn’t sound human, but that made Trevor’s balls quiver.
“What did you do to me with all that smoke?”
“Gave you some momentum. You’ve got several days of my essence sustaining you. You might still feel the need for water or an occasional snack, but the more you imbibe the more often we’ll need to stop anyway. Just know you don’t actually need it. Trust me.”
“I’m down with that. What if I fall off?”
“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Rafe said. “If you start to feel dizzy, say so.”
“Alright then,” Trevor said. He felt invigorated beyond his wildest dreams at the moment. His mind was razor sharp as he directed the pair after they shifted so he could secure their gear to their huge bodies. His gear, he corrected. The understanding of his need to be involved lingered as the obvious roadblock to the task at hand. Yet they were being patient. He glanced at Rafe a few times, trying not to hold the black dragon’s gaze because the memory of the man’s cock in his ass would rise up unbidden, and make him too flustered to get shit done. It helped a little that Rafe wasn’t human at the moment, but the looks Rafe gave Trevor with those bottomless black eyes were no different.
Soon, the task distracted him from everything else, and Roka’s drug Trevor had inhaled drove him on as singularly as the best pharmaceuticals he’d tried in his wayward youth. He’d longed to be this focused during all his crazy adventures. Rock climbing, surfing, racing. He’d had the money to risk his life in dozens of locales. Rowan had found him in the middle of one of his trips, but none of them had involved sex. Sex had always been a happy side effect of every thrill seeking adventure.
Now, all he wanted was to fuck. And he’d satisfied that urge tenfold the last two days, but still wanted more, just like he did every time he had jumped out of an airplane, or ridden an epic wave. He wanted more of their secrets. More of their magic, and he didn’t give a fuck whether it meant he’d live or die. He just wanted more.
Climbing on Rafe’s back and tying himself down felt like an act of thrilling bondage. Trevor would gladly push his limits during this quest.
“It’s almost like she’s the princess at the end and we need to save her,” Trevor said.
Rafe’s deep, rumbling voice answered, “She may need saving, but once that happens, we are her slaves.”
“I’m okay with that,” Trevor said. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
Chapter 7
The hurricane of energy was unmistakable when they reached Japan, and grew even more intense the closer they got to the mountain. The fading stepping stones of her trail led to the mountain and no further. Trevor’s glowing thread that was linked to Rowan had grown gradually brighter over the last few days, and crackled with energy now, but it, too, terminated somewhere beneath the peak of the volcano.
“Get to the city and call the others,” Rafe sent to Roka mid-air. “Get them here soon, we need them all.”
Roka veered off without a word and headed toward the city beyond the mountain. It might be another day before the others could get to them, but Rafe might need at least a day to convince her. He still had Trevor on his back, still conscious, which amazed Rafe.
He flew on, targeting the white peak of Fuji in the distance.
“I’m losing it, brother,” Trevor said. “Sleep… food… anything.”
“Hold on a little longer. We’re almost there.”
“Right. Rowan.”
Trevor’s voice was a wisp of sound, as it had been for the last day. Rafe worried the man might not last, but Trevor had never begged to be let down to go his own way. Rafe hated Trevor a little for his dedication but knew at the same time Rafe would want no other human mated to the woman he loved.
As they drew closer, Rowan’s trail converged in a spot in the shadow of the mountain, as plain as day. Mixed with it, however, was an energy even more ancient and therefore immensely powerful for the fact that it lingered so clearly.
Rafe dipped to follow it, sinking through the air without care, as desperate as he was to reach her.
He landed with a shuddering surge, the earth shaking and dust rising up around them at the entrance to a cave. Trevor slid off his back and fell boneless against a rock.
“She’s in there,” Trevor said, as though he sensed it as much as Rafe did.
Rafe peered into the narrow, dark space. It wasn’t a pleasant kind of cave. Wet and craggy. Upon his first look, he didn’t see how a full-sized dragon could even fit. But she had, because she was in there now. Maybe in her human form, but his senses only read dragon.
“Rowan?” He sent the question out, grasping at anything, but got no answer.
Shame wasn’t a common emotion in Rafe’s repertoire, but he felt it then. It had been entirely his fault for not giving in and marking her that first night, the very second he knew he could be happy with no other woman. The problem was her, though. He couldn’t simply claim a dragon like her. It would disrespect her to do so, as majestic as she was. He wished he knew what bloodlines she belonged to, but it had to be Court. He’d sensed that power in her from the beginning, known she was better than him all along. So how could he claim ownership of her when the opposite was more preferable? And the opposite was something she was unlikely to agree to, on simple, human principle.
He should have asked. That was his mistake. He should have told her everything, then gotten down on his knees and begged her to claim him. But there was no precedence for a dragon submitting to another dragon as a mate. They only submitted if they were being disciplined. For thousands of years they’d only been allowed to mate with humans. She couldn’t have known that, either. His other mistake was not giving her the details of their political history. But politics kind of put a damper on sex and sex had always been a dragon priority.
It still was, if they were going to save her.
“Rowan, I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re coming in.”
Trevor handed Rafe a head lamp, which he declined. The human was prepared for anything. He was geared up now with a pack of supplies on his back and stood at the entrance, waiting for Rafe’s signal.
“Why are you hard?” Rafe asked, point blank.
Trevor’s face flushed and he looked down at the bulge in the front of his snug-fitting pants.
“Proximity? I don’t fucking know. All I know is that I want what you want so much I’d fuck that feeling until it came all over me. Do you promise I can still be hers when we’re in there?”
“Yes. You first.”
The passage wasn’t that tight, so they could walk upright, but had to remain single-file.
“Do you wonder if only one of us will survive to save her?” Trevor asked, so
me ways in.
“We’ll both survive.”
Trevor laughed. “You don’t see the parallel to insemination?”
Rafe paused, considering the comment. “What do you mean?”
“We’re the sperm swimming up the vagina. She’s the egg. It’s a contest, I think… Who will she let impregnate her first?”
“You think too literally,” Rafe said.
“Do I?” Trevor asked.
The human was getting impetuous, and was beginning to endear himself to Rafe for it. Trevor reminded him of Rowan in some ways. He believed it possible she might prefer this man over himself, and if she loved Trevor more, Rafe didn’t want to have a hand in keeping them apart.
“Move on,” Rafe said.
“You can’t even answer me. I think you love her. Is that literal enough?”
“You love her, too.”
“So you don’t deny it.”
“I would die for her. Would you?”
Trevor stopped moving.
“Yes. God yes,” Trevor said, turning his head slightly to glance back at Rafe.
They stood silent for a moment. Rafe was surprised by the human’s response in spite of being able to sense his conviction. Trevor began moving again, quicker now that the floor of the passage had smoothed enough to not impede them as much. Rafe followed, catching the gist of the man’s intentions. All Trevor wanted was to get to Rowan.
Rafe wanted nothing more himself.
***
The strange ancient convergence of energy that swirled around Rowan’s trail continued to grow stronger as they went. Soon the passage widened again after a junction of several other passages branching off, but there was no question which way they should continue. The wider passage was less dusty, the floor flat and smooth, the ceiling much higher, and the walls no longer dripping with moisture.
Rafe and Trevor walked abreast, the beam of Trevor’s head lamp illuminating their way. The passage seemed to go on for miles. Every so often Rafe would try to communicate with Rowan again, but to no avail.
“What would you have done without me?” Trevor asked. “Wandered blind into a mountain?”
“I don’t need the aid of a light. I have her trail, for one thing—”
“Which you need me to follow,” Trevor interrupted.
“True, but there’s another trail in here and I believe it’s the trail she followed.”
“A trail left by what? Another dragon?”
“Yes, but a very old one. The energy’s faded beyond identifying, but it’s still powerful. Like an entire brood passed through a thousand years ago.”
“How many of you are there?” Trevor asked abruptly. He walked at a quick and steady pace now. He’d tried running once they had reached the wider passage, but after an hour at a non-stop, rigorous pace, had finally given in and paused, panting and sweating, cursing the distance around the serpentine twists and curves the seemingly endless passage took them through. Rafe couldn’t be certain but he was sure there was a subtle but steady downward slope to their path.
“I used to know, but now I’m not sure. The brood I was born with is around a thousand in number, but Rowan wasn’t part of our brood. There may be many more like her out there—dragons born without the sanction of our Council. We need her to help us change our laws. But all I care about is finding her.”
He stopped suddenly when his eye caught a subtle irregularity in the texture on the wall beside him. No, it wasn’t an irregularity, it was precisely the opposite—if anything, the texture had become too regular. He studied both sides for a moment. They were too faint to make out, but if he looked further down the corridor—
“Sweet Mother, this is the path to a temple.” Rafe pressed his palms against the wall several paces further on. The pattern was clear here. Carved in a wide band at shoulder-height along the walls of the passage was a single, continuous scaled length. He continued, trailing his fingertips along the upraised shapes. Soon he reached a more detailed section where a head twisted around a tail and the pattern continued, along the body of another dragon.
“Are you going to explain to me what all that means about your Council?” Trevor asked, trailing his own fingers along the carvings on the opposite wall.
Too overwhelmed with awe to object or even to consider his own words much beyond spouting his rote knowledge, Rafe told Trevor his race’s history. From the first hibernation enforced by the Council to both curtail dragon violence on humans, and to prevent the increasingly devastating retaliation, to his own hibernation and eventual ascension many centuries later.
“When the youngest in each new generation reaches maturity, that new brood is forced to sleep in human form for five centuries, just to be certain we remember how to maintain this shape. Over the course of our existence, we discovered we preferred it. It’s much easier to live among you if you believe we are one of you. Human energy sustains us as well as our own, and mating with you preserves our bloodlines.”
“It seems like it would dilute it, if you ask me.”
“Our magic overrides your genetics. Each dragon child born to a human and a dragon couple is entirely a dragon. The choice was a matter of survival for our race. Our population had dwindled. We could no longer safely mate with other dragons without risking inbreeding.”
“But now you can? She’s not your sister or cousin or anything, is she?”
“All I know is that her parents were both dragons and she couldn’t be more perfect if she tried. We believe the only reason the Council had to isolate us for centuries was to facilitate our strongest members breeding with humans when the humans came to release us. We’re hoping to convince them to let the next generation choose for themselves. Rowan is far stronger than any of the rest of the Court, and pure-blooded. If a dragon like her can be born without the sanction of the Council, then we don’t need their laws.”
“Alright, alright,” Trevor said, pausing beside him, wide-eyed with surprise.
Rafe realized he’d gradually begun speaking more vehemently and took a deep breath to calm down. “But none of that matters more to me than her forgiveness. I won’t ask you to help me, but…”
“It’s alright man,” Trevor said, giving Rafe’s should a comforting squeeze. “I have no idea if my opinion matters, but I’ll try.”
“We’re getting close now, I can sense her.”
“So can I,” Trevor said. “It’s like an itch. Thoughts of her keep appearing in my head with insane clarity.”
“How—?” Rafe began, when it dawned on him the thing he should have realized days ago. He grabbed Trevor by the arm and spun him around. Rafe blinked when Trevor’s headlamp blinded him for a second, reached up and ripped the offending object from the man’s head. “Did she mark you?”
“What? No! I—At least I don’t think so. I’d remember that, wouldn’t I? All I remember is…” Trevor paused, his voice growing faint, “All I remember is her last kiss before I fell asleep. It seemed so sweet.” He rubbed a thumb idly behind one ear, his eyes unfocused and sentimental.
Rafe grabbed the headlamp from the floor and clutched Trevor by the neck, aiming the light at the spot he’d just rubbed. There, on the pale skin just beneath Trevor’s hairline was the tiny shape of a red dragon. It wasn’t a medallion like the others typically were, but a simple red squiggle that matched the dragon from Rowan’s necklace—the necklace that Rafe had left resting reverently atop the neatly folded pile of Rowan’s things in his bedroom, in the hopes of her return.
“Sweet Mother, she’s already done it. She marked you.” His voice cracked on the word “marked” and he struggled a moment to tamp down the rising emotions. Too many questions came to mind. Why would she mark him and not take him with her? Was it confirmation that she no longer loved Rafe like he feared? He wouldn’t blame her for that. And of course, would she accept him once he found her?
“Hey, man. We’ll figure this out once we find her, alright?” Trevor reached a hand out, clasping Rafe by the back o
f the neck and squeezing gently.
“If she doesn’t love me, I’ll relinquish you to her and go my own way.”
“Well, if she’s as generous as she seemed when I met her, I have a feeling she’s got love to go around.”
“You don’t understand, I betrayed her. She said she loved me, but I lied to her.”
“You told me when we were flying that she didn’t even know what she was when you met her. That’s got to be a hard situation to deal with for anyone. So she ran. Every now and then I just leave when I need to clear my head. But the last thing I heard her say was that she was going home. And I admit, I wanted to follow her right away, but something told me she needed her space for a little while. I decided I’d give it to her, then I’d go find her. Somehow I’d find her. Now we’ve got that chance, together. So what the fuck are you waiting for? If you love her, give her the chance to make her choice.”
Rafe took a deep breath and gripped Trevor’s shoulder in solidarity. He handed the human back his light and the pair moved on.
***
They traveled for several more hours. Soon it became apparent that Trevor didn’t have the energy to continue any farther, away from the bolstering influence of Roka’s breath. Rafe relented and they stopped to make camp together. He admired the man’s endurance and efficiency. Trevor simply stopped, quickly scarfed down a foil-wrapped energy bar, chugged some water, then lay down and was asleep almost instantly after telling Rafe to wake him in half an hour.
While he waited, Rafe sent his breath ahead. The invisible shadow skimmed down the corridor, following the tendrils of energy. His shadow flowed along the undulating shapes of the dragons carved into the walls until the floor of the corridor dropped away from beneath and he entered a vast chamber.
Rafe paused with his shadow hovering just beyond the ledge. The entire place was huge enough for several dragons to fly across, wing-tip to wing-tip, but the size of it wasn’t what made him stop. The temple on the other side of the cavern loomed, seemingly perched on a ledge of crumbling rock the entire long breadth of the cavern. It resembled a traditional Shinto-style temple, but Rafe knew it had to be constructed of dragon stone to have survived this place for more than a thousand years. Beneath him, between the ledge on which he stood and the temple where he was certain Rowan rested, was a treacherous expanse of black rock split with cracks that glowed with molten fire even from his elevation. It resembled the cracked mosaic that he was afraid his relationship with Rowan had become. Soon enough, his love for her might devour his soul entirely, leaving him nothing but a broken mess.
