To Love A Dragon; Venys Needs Men

by Tiffany Roberts

  She nodded and released his horn to stroke her palm along his jaw. “What of you?”

  “I am unharmed.”

  Leyloni lightly trailed her fingers over his thick, rigid scales. “You…changed back to a dragon.”

  “I did.” He tilted his head, brushing against her. “I know not how or why, only that it was what was needed to save you.”

  Serek pressed his face against Arysteon, giving him a slobbery, open mouthed kiss.

  Leyloni tightened her hold on the baby as he shifted his weight. “Can you change back?”

  Arysteon hummed thoughtfully, and for the space of a few heartbeats, faint, tingling energy coursed over his scales, tickling Leyloni’s palm. Serek giggled, his hair rising from his head. That charge ceased abruptly.

  “I believe so,” Arysteon said, “but it will require a bit more calm than I am currently able to muster. And for the time being…it may be best that I remain in this form in anticipation of any further hostilities.”

  Leyloni’s brow furrowed as she drew Serek closer. “The Bone Wraiths?”

  “Dead,” he replied with a savage growl that bared his big, sharp teeth, “and would that I could slaughter them again. All who were on the bank with you have been slain, but I cannot say if there were more in the area. They masked their scents and the signs of their passage well.”

  Arysteon huffed through his nostrils, and some of the ferocity faded from his expression. “I can still taste their blood. Let us move to the water that we might clean ourselves before returning to camp to gather your belongings.”

  Leyloni turned her eyes to Serek’s dirty face. “All right.”

  She kept a hand on Arysteon for support as they moved out of the brush, down the slope, and to the water. Though the poison’s lingering effects were negligible, the soreness and exhaustion that had flooded her in its wake were almost crippling. Her side hurt where the monster named Tekal had kicked her, and she was sure her ribs were bruised.

  They washed quickly, rinsing dirt and blood from skin, scales, and hair. The cool water was just enough of a shock to Leyloni to counteract some of her weariness, not that it made much of a difference—she would keep pushing forward regardless. A long journey remained ahead of her and her little family, and she would see it through to the end.

  Arysteon kept Serek entertained—and kept watch—as Leyloni searched the dead Bone Wraiths for anything of use. She took their fire starter stones, a couple knives, and their cloth blankets, which she tucked away in an extra bag. Her lip curled in disgust when she came across some dried meat, and she tossed it aside for the scavengers.

  The Bone Wraiths themselves could be food for the scavengers for all she cared. It was better than they deserved.

  She would have taken the bow one of them had been carrying, but there was only one frayed bowstring and three shoddy arrows to go with it—hardly worth the trouble of carrying. As she was checking the heft and heads of the Wraiths’ spears, seeking the one that felt the best in her hands, Arysteon leaned his head closer to her.

  “These humans were the ones who attacked your tribe?” he asked, his voice gentle despite its low rumbling.

  Leyloni paused, that now familiar heartache returning at the reminder of her people, but it was followed swiftly by anger. The Bone Wraiths had tracked Leyloni and Serek all this way, and her carelessness could have cost her not only her life, but a lifetime of forced submission for Arysteon and Serek. What if Arysteon had not been able to change? He was immensely strong in his human form, and still commanded his lightning, but would that have been enough to fight back eight warriors?

  She glared at one of the bodies. “Yes.”

  Arysteon scanned their surroundings. “Do you think more will come? You said males are quite valuable to humans.”

  “I do not know. I…did not even imagine they could track us this far, especially after the storm. They must have rediscovered our trail after we left your lair.” She worried her lip, her fury swirling with her sense of loss and concern to create a tense maelstrom within her. “This was a hunting party sent to find us. To find Serek. There would only have been two or three were they merely scouts, and even then…had we been alone, Serek and I would have been easy prey for them.

  “But I do not think there will be more. This is already a large group to send after the two of us, especially considering the spoils they must have claimed after the attack.”

  Arysteon dipped his head toward her, brushing the tip of his snout along the back of her shoulder, his warm breath fanning over her damp hair. She closed her eyes and wished he were a man again so she could feel his arms around her, feel his heat surrounding her, so she could feel his lips, bold, firm, and hot against hers as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that would chase away the cold fear that lingered in her chest.

  “I will be more vigilant regardless.” He nuzzled her neck, prompting her to tilt her head to the side to allow him more access. “I am here for you, my heartsong. No matter my shape, I am your mate, and I am here for you.”

  Leyloni’s heart quickened. She turned her face back toward him and pressed her lips to the warm, hard scales of his snout as she ran her hand along his jaw in a slow caress.

  He shuddered and released a contented hum. Leyloni might have been happy to remain like that until the sun went down, until the night gave way to morning, until eternity had been spent, but she knew it could not be so.

  Still, she remained there, memorizing the feel of his scales and relishing his warmth, until he finally drew back. The air that flowed over her skin in his absence was bitterly cold. She barely suppressed a reflexive shiver, telling herself the chill was only because she was still damp after her second bath.

  Arysteon twisted his head to look back as he swept his tail forward.

  With a big grin on his face, Serek crawled across the grass in pursuit of Arysteon’s tail, his eyes wide and gleaming with joy. Leyloni’s chest swelled, filling with pride and determination. She would do all she could to ensure Serek never experienced the immense pain of loss she had endured—and was still enduring. She would ensure he learned of their people through all the joy they had shared, all the stories, laughter, and celebration.

  “Daylight will soon be fading,” Arysteon said, laying the end of his tail on the ground before Leyloni. “I will bring you to camp so we can retrieve your belongings and be off.”

  Serek, spotting vulnerability in his prey, put on a little burst of speed that ended with him flopping bodily atop Arysteon’s tail.

  Leyloni chuckled, her lips stretching into a smile. The ache in her cheeks, unlike those wracking the rest of her body, was a welcome sensation. She picked up the bag she’d taken from the Bone Wraiths and slung it over her shoulder. She grabbed one of the spears next, using it for support as she walked forward, meaning to crouch and scoop up Serek. Before she could, Arysteon lifted his tail, curling it slightly to hold the baby up.

  Smile widening, Leyloni accepted the offered youngling on her free arm, holding him against her hip. “Thank you. Shall we?”

  She turned to begin the walk back to camp, but Arysteon eased himself down flat on his belly, laying his head beside her.

  Leyloni arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

  “Bringing you to camp.” The wicked spines that ran from his head all the way down to the end of his tail snapped flat. When she hesitated, he said gently, “Climb onto my back. We can travel faster this way, and it will allow you time to recover your strength.”

  He shifted his nearest arm, positioning it against his side as though it were a step.

  Frowning, Leyloni looked into his eyes, searching for some indication that this was all in jest but finding only sincerity in those violet orbs. It was difficult not to think of this in terms of her own perspective. Carrying Serek during a day of travel was tiring; carrying a full-grown woman would’ve been exhausting after only a few hours for even a man as strong as her father had been.

  But Arysteon was not a ma
n.

  She shifted her hold on Serek and, planting the spear firmly on the ground for balance, stepped onto Arysteon’s arm. She winced as her weight came down on his scales. They were hard, and the muscle beneath was firm, but there was a little give in them. If Arysteon was bothered by it, he made no indication.

  Keeping a secure hold on Serek, Leyloni carefully swung her leg over Arysteon’s back and settled down atop him. Her breath hitched when those flattened spines lined up with her sex. Heat fluttered low in her belly.

  That heat was only amplified by a low rumble from Arysteon, one that didn’t seem to make any sound but which she felt clearly—especially where it vibrated against her sex.

  This is going to be an…interesting ride.

  Arysteon turned his head to look at her with one eye, and the brightness in his gaze told her that he knew exactly what she was feeling—and that he was hungry.

  Shifting and taking a deep breath, Leyloni lowered Serek so he was sitting between her legs and settled the spear across her lap, using it to keep the baby in place. She wrapped her arm around Arysteon’s neck and nodded to him. “We are ready.”

  For a moment, Arysteon remained still, his gaze locked on her with undiminished intensity. That stare made it very difficult for Leyloni to forget the taste of pleasure she’d had when she first sat down.

  But when he pushed himself up, it was difficult to think of anything beyond her sense of disorientation—it felt like the world was moving beneath her, and it was jarring. She drew Serek a little closer and clung to Arysteon’s neck, seeking some stability.

  Arysteon chuckled, sending another little thrill through her. “Hold tight.”

  16

  Arysteon drifted between trees that were little more than shadowy pillars in the swirling mist. His feet barely touched the ground. The shafts of silvery moonlight pouring through the canopy made the mist seem alive, made it seem to glow from within.

  But that moonlight could not overpower the points of illumination scattered in the air before him, stretching away like a stream of twinkling stars—lightning bugs. Fireflies.

  Lightning like his spark; fire like Leyloni’s hair.

  He followed the trail of fireflies, which led him ever deeper into the ancient woods. Whenever he drew close to one of the little glowing orbs, whenever he reached out to touch one, it vanished—and he felt a little flare of heat in his chest. That heat slowly suffused him, spreading outward from his center, pooling in his loins, urging him to move faster, faster.

  Because he knew where the trail was leading him.

  He stretched his neck forward and urged his legs to move quicker, curling his claws down to find some purchase, but he gained no additional speed. His heart thumped, and his spines rose in agitation and desperation. His spark crackled with yearning.

  Leyloni.

  The mist thickened, further obscuring the surrounding forest. Yet the firefly trail only became brighter and more distinct.

  Destiny. This path was his destiny, and he could not alter its course, its speed. It would take him exactly where he needed to go. It would take him to her. He’d waited hundreds of years already, what was a little longer?

  As though in answer to that question, heat raced along his spine, thrumming outward in arcs of lightning to permeate his scales, muscles, and bones. His loins pulsed, kindling a now familiar ache. That familiarity was like an itch in the back of his mind, too deep to scratch, but he could not place it—not with the mist creeping over his thoughts.

  The fireflies ahead flared with new intensity, briefly brighter than the sun. The mist parted as that intense light vanished, revealing a clearing ahead that was filled with pure moonlight, the ground blanketed in lush grass and white flowers.

  But there was only one scent on the air—Leyloni’s scent. Arysteon’s chest swelled as he filled his lungs with her perfume, and his stem pressed insistently against his slit.

  A large, flat rock appeared in the center of the clearing. Leyloni lay atop it, naked, her long, curly hair spread around her, her pale skin awash in silver light, her eyes gleaming.

  Though Arysteon had felt no change, he was suddenly walking upright, on two legs, as he strode toward her, his hands balled loosely at his sides. Leyloni, torso propped up on her elbows, parted her supple thighs.

  The fragrance of her arousal sent a delighted shiver down Arysteon’s spine. He had held back for what had felt like an eternity, but now…

  He groaned as his stem extruded fully, twitching with need in the night air.

  Leyloni’s skin pinkened as Arysteon reached the stone. The petals of her sex were glistening, beckoning him closer still. He scarcely noticed that the petals of the surrounding flowers had become just as pink.

  The ache in Arysteon’s loins spread into his lower belly. Everything within him was hot, tight, and needy. He needed her.

  Heat baked over his scales as he climbed atop the rock, crawling over her to wedge his hips between her thighs. Her skin was impossibly pinker, and the gleaming light in her eyes had gone from white to red. The flowers on the ground were the color of her blood. And still, her scent filled his nostrils, filled his mind, claimed his awareness. Fire blazed at his core, at once separate from his spark and intertwined with it, burning outward to course along his limbs.

  He growled and dipped his head to trail his tongue along her neck, taking her scent and taste directly from her skin. He pressed the tip of his stem to Leyloni’s entrance. His limbs trembled with overwhelming desire.

  Arysteon needed to rut. Needed to claim her. Needed to take her again and again, because his hunger for her was insatiable.

  The mist flowed into the clearing, an encroaching crimson fog that bathed Arysteon in withering heat. Its red tendrils caressed his scales, leaving delicious agony in their wake.

  He thrust his hips forward, plunging into Leyloni’s tight, welcoming sex.

  Arysteon’s eyes snapped open, and a ragged breath escaped his lips. His vision was obscured by a crimson haze, and the rapid pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear. Heat coursed through his muscles, instilling them with restlessness, with a powerful need for action. He squeezed his eyes shut.

  He needed Leyloni, yearned for her, had just been…

  Dreaming. He’d just been dreaming.

  The solid weight he’d lacked in that dream world had returned to him now, and he was lying quite firmly upon the ground. There was no rock beneath him, there had been no trail of fireflies leading him to his mate.

  Leyloni lay against his side, her body warm with sleep beneath their shared blanket, his arm securely around her shoulders. The small fire nearby cast a hint of warmth on him, as well, which would have been welcome had the air still possessed the slight night chill it should have maintained until closer to summer. But neither of those sources of warmth could compare to the stifling heat radiating in the air around him—or the even more intense heat at his core.

  His throbbing stem brushed the blanket as he shifted his hips, creating a torturous burst of pleasure that stole his breath.

  My mate. My claim. Must have her.

  He clenched his jaw, biting back an involuntary groan. Yes, it had been several days since they’d mated, and he’d hungered for her throughout, but this need was far too great to be explained by that.

  She is exhausted and requires rest. That is more important.

  Leyloni and Serek had ridden on Arysteon’s back through the evening, leaving their prior camp far behind as they chased the setting sun. She had barely been able to hold herself upright by the time darkness had neared. They’d chosen this place to camp, and he’d shifted back into his human form to tend her. The transformation had almost felt like a natural thing.

  Leyloni and Serek had been asleep before Arysteon could get the fire going.

  Arysteon slid his hand down his abdomen and clamped his fingers around his shaft. It was slick with secretions and his already spilling seed. He hissed softly through his teeth—hi
s hold brought a flare of pleasure, a blast of pain, but not even a modicum of relief.

  Having Leyloni here with him, having her soft skin against his scales and her fragrance filling his nostrils… He knew he could not long restrain himself. Why now, when he’d done so well up to this point?

  Panting against the desire blazing in his veins, Arysteon opened his eyes again. He blinked repeatedly to clear that crimson haze, but it faded little.

  His heart froze when he realized the lingering haze was not a problem with his eyes.

  The dark night sky and clouds spotting it were tinted crimson, just as in his dream—and so was the moon. It hung like a bloated orb of blood ready to burst at any moment. Everything it shone upon had taken on that red stain—the trees and bushes, moss and vines, stones and earth, and undoubtedly Arysteon and his clanmates.

  Just visible through the tangled, leafy boughs overhead was the thing he dreaded most in that instant.

  The Crimson Comet—the Star of Madness to his clan, Dragonsbane to other dragons—had returned. How could it possibly have been a hundred years already?

  Arysteon’s muscles tensed, and his stem twitched, already filled with unbearable pressure. What he’d felt at the river earlier had been the first whispers of the comet’s return. What he’d felt as he’d carried Leyloni and Serek through the woods had not merely been sensations sparked by his mate’s touch and feel. What was happening in his body now was not merely the result of eroding self-control.

  He tightened his hold on his stem, struggling to remain otherwise still lest he disturb his mate, but it only heightened his need for release.

  Arysteon drew her a little closer, barely keeping his claws from pricking her skin as his fingers curled on her shoulder.

  He’d only resisted the comet’s influence in the past because the females around him had been close kin—or because he’d been alone. He needed to resist now, to allow Leyloni time to recover from her ordeals…

  But he needed more than anything to fill her with the molten seed smoldering in his loins.