Kharon moved with lightning speed. He spurred his hyperia toward Makara whose mount reared up and briefly battled Kharon’s. The area erupted into complete chaos. Desmond drew his sword and sliced the head off the hunter nearest him. Then Desmond rushed over to help Kharon attack Makara. Gypsy pulled her own blade and swung it at the remaining hunter’s upper arm, but he managed to block it with a short sword. This young hunter was a little better with his weapon than she anticipated. Gypsy rained strikes down on him and on the fourth blow they locked swords in a battle of strength. Knowing she’d lose this struggle if it went on too long she pulled her knife from its sheath in the small of her back and plunged it into his thigh. The hunter howled in pain and swung his fist toward her head, but she ducked. Leaping from her mount, she tackled him and both landed on the ground with a thud. The agony in his thigh made the hunter hesitate just long enough for her to jam her sword into his neck.
Gypsy looked up at Kharon and Desmond triumphantly. But there was no time to gloat because Missy was still being held by Makara. Desmond leaned forward, reaching out. He came within inches of grabbing Missy off Makara’s mount but the hunter forced his mount to rear back pulling the little girl just out of range. Kharon roared and brought his sword down very close to the arm Makara had wrapped around Missy. The strike only got close enough to cut another hole in the hunter’s already ragged uniform. Watching the little girl in so much danger of being accidently stabbed sent icy fear through Gypsy’s veins. She had to get Missy out of there. She bolted toward them with her weapon in hand. Suddenly she saw Makara throw some kind of black dust in Kharon and Desmond’s face. She caught only a slight whiff and winced as it burned her nose and mouth. The pungent aroma was unfamiliar. She sure as hell hoped it wasn’t some kind of poison. Both men snarled in angry surprise. Momentarily debilitated, they shook their heads and rubbed their eyes trying to see again. Makara took advantage of their blindness and slammed his spurs into his hyperia. The animal reared up again and then bolted off into the woods before Gypsy could even get close.
Missy was still on the front of his saddle. Gypsy’s mind exploded in panic. “No!” she screamed.
Chapter 11
“This wasn’t what I expected,” Bethara said as they approached the home of the sorceress. Bethara had anticipated something more elaborate from the description Dragon got while questioning some village elders a few days ago. The old men had touted this woman as being a wise and powerful witch. You’d think someone so wise and powerful would have better accommodations. The home was just a cave with a big, rickety wooden door. It didn’t look like it could keep out the rats let alone an intruder. Certainly Bethara had been expecting something closer to the grandiosity of Titan’s castle, not this sorry place with bone and feather wind chimes. I suppose I should be happy it’s early morning and not the middle of the night. I can’t imagine how creepy this place is in the dark.
Dragon dismounted and held her animal so she could do likewise. “I really didn’t know what to expect. Iris is rumored to be almost as powerful as my father. And the inside of my father’s castle isn’t much better than a cave.”
Bethara dusted off her pants and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back. It had been a long ride. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been inside his castle.”
Dragon walked up and knocked on the door. “Consider yourself lucky.”
The door opened so quickly they both took a few steps back. A beautiful young woman, with silken black hair and forest green skin rushed out like they were long lost relatives. She wore a long patchwork skirt with more colors than Bethara thought existed, and her top was a simple sleeveless white knit. When she stared up at Dragon, he noticed her face was delicate and perfectly smooth. She placed one hand over her mouth and gasped. Bethara couldn’t tell if she was delighted or terrified to see them.
Turning abruptly, she called to someone inside. “Rylee, put the kettle on and make a binding circle around the house. He’s here! The beast will show by nightfall so we must hurry.”
Bethara tried to hide her shock. The voice that came out of the witch’s mouth could have belonged to the woman’s grandmother. It was thick, raspy and completely contradicted the beauty of the witch herself.
Another woman rushed out, bumping into the first. As she stood before Dragon, her face carried the same expression of awe as the first woman. This one looked to be a few centuries older with plain features and a subdued, dusty olive complexion. The elder woman wore a long gray dress covered in delicate silver sequins. Over her bony shoulders she wore a faded black shawl with worn fringes. The ragged edge blended with her lovely dark hair, giving the illusion it was longer than it was. Neither woman bothered with shoes.
The second woman was almost panting with excitement. “By the Gods,” she gasped. “It’s true.”
“Get on with the circle before the demon comes,” Iris snapped.
Rylee fished into her dress pocket and pulled out a red leather bag. Long, delicate fingers dipped into the bag and removed what looked like sandy ashes. She rushed around the cave entrance releasing a thin stream of ash until she had formed a half circle from one side of the rock face to the other.
With a little too much familiarity, Iris grabbed Dragon’s hand and practically dragged him inside. Bethara followed, miffed that she was being ignored. What kind of crazy nonsense is this?
Once inside, the witch pushed Dragon into a black high back chair in front of the fireplace. Before anyone could utter a word, Iris ripped his tunic down the front and pulled it apart exposing his naked chest.
“Take the rest of that off," she ordered.
“Hey!” Bethara marched over and grabbed the witch’s arm to pull her away. She moved between them and folded her arms, furious. Without realizing it, she’d grown very protective of Dragon. “What the hell is going on here?”
Instead of being angry, Iris laughed. It had lost some of its rasp and was light and happy, like she had been invited to the ball by a handsome prince. The witch shook her head, still smiling and trotted over to the door where she called Rylee in. They talked in hushed tones at the threshold and kept glancing back at Dragon.
Bethara frowned down at Dragon. “You don’t seem to be minding this much.”
Dragon took her hand and pulled her down on his lap. “This is a different world than the one you know. I have been around magic my entire life. I tried to warn you. All I know for sure is that I need them. I can’t explain why I was drawn here but I know they can help me. I’ll understand if you want to go home to the empire. I’ll see to it you get there safely. Decide now what you want to do, because once you are in, you are in all the way.”
Bethara climbed from his lap and stood. She looked at the two witches who approached slowly. Tentatively, Iris took Bethara’s hand and placed it on Dragon’s chest. For some odd reason she didn’t feel the need to resist the witch.
The witch leaned forward and whispered into Bethara’s ear. “Do you think this is a man?”
What a strange question. She decided to stick with the obvious. “Of course he is.”
The same creepy smile returned to Iris’s face. “You’re wrong. He looks and even behaves like one, but he is a man cleaved in two. In reality he is two men in one man’s body. The creature you see before you is a living spell.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Bethara said with surprising calm.
The witch then ran her hands along Dragon’s chest, kneading his pectoral muscles while pinching his nipples with her thumb and forefinger. They grew erect under her touch. Bethara also couldn’t help but notice the growing bulge in his pants.
“When Titan created Dragon, he did it through both sex and magic. Wanting to destroy a strong, defiant son, he needed to create another who was his match. Despite external interference a person is what he or she is. When a man or woman is born, they are molded by both nature and opportunity. And so was General Gavin Theron, but as Gavin grew in poverty and hardship,
he continued to succeed. Titan was bewildered by his bastard’s resilience and threw many obstacles in Gavin’s way, but the general overcame them all. He is the only one of Titan’s many offspring to achieve so much. The majority of Titan’s progeny are dead by his own hand and he laid the groundwork for Gavin’s fate to be the same as his father’s. But to Titan’s frustration, Gavin had now broken the cycle that caused him to destroy his own children.”
“Yes, but what does all this have to do with Dragon?” Bethara asked.
“I’m getting to that. In one final grand effort, Titan came to Gavin and offered him a crown and empire unrivaled by any the world had ever seen. With Gavin’s strength and Titan’s magic, they could create an immortal dynasty. But the general nursed a potent grudge because Titan had never shown any interest in him until his military success. So Gavin rejected him. He didn’t just reject him once, but numerous times. Insulted and enveloped in fury, Titan returned to his castle and began plotting. Deciding to punish Gavin, Titan set out to create another son who was both obedient and a military genius. A foil for Gavin and a triumph for himself. So he sired a son by his own daughter and infused the union with a vile black magic taken from the Book of Nine Skulls.”
“The what?” Bethara was frightened but also intrigued.
“It is an ancient collection of common spells that have been perverted and twisted to be used only for evil. That book should have been destroyed before Titan was even born. How he got hold of it is a mystery.” The witch placed gentle kisses along Dragon’s jaw. Bethara watched his eyes close in relaxation, and the erection in his pants grow larger.
“But now Titan had a new problem,” Iris continued through her kisses. “Not only had he driven his daughter mad with his meddling and incest, but now he had a son with Gavin’s talents who would eventually rebel. That was when Titan used another spell to cleave Dragon’s mind in two. In the early years, he provided Dragon with freedom, training and a cordial relationship with his brother, Gavin. Dragon gained just enough life experience to become a lethal soldier who knew no fear nor boundaries. After allowing this life for almost a half-century, Titan isolated and imprisoned him, allowing the madness to dominate all of his thoughts. Tonight we will attempt to fuse those two halves back together again and make Dragon whole. He will become the man he was meant to be.”
Sliding her hands down Dragon’s body, Iris rubbed and squeezed his erection on the outside of his pants. “Your participation will only strengthen the process, but understand that by helping us, you will become his familiar. This will be a joining closer than marriage.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Bethara asked. Her mind was racing. Did she really want this? The thoughts in her head screamed yes, but still she didn’t understand. “And why me?”
Iris reached down and pushed Dragon’s pants down below his hips freeing his erect cock. Eagerly her hands rubbed and caressed his rock hard member. Dragon moaned loudly and shifted his hips upward trying to get more of her attention.
“You are the most logical choice, Bethara. Surely you know that you have fallen in love with him?”
Pulling up her skirt, Iris straddled Dragon’s lap. Like her feet, her privates were bare. Gripping his engorged cock she guided it up into her body, grunting when he penetrated fully. A long, lusty moan escaped her as she gripped his shoulders while lifting herself up and down on him.
By the fireplace, Rylee pulled her dress off over her head and toyed with her nipples. The hungry expression on her face showed she was eager to join in.
“The spell has begun,” Iris said still riding Dragon’s cock in ecstasy. Throwing a glance back at Bethara she instructed, “You will be the last of us to take him.”
Chapter 12
The room was whirling with heat and energy. Sex and sensuality thickened every breath of air Bethara drew. Even in the emperor’s harem, she had never experienced anything like this. The witches were naked, their bodies slick with sweat and fragrant with the perfume of their appetites. Everything was dissolving into chaos. The dark menace of a cackle filled the room, but she had no idea where it came from.
Rylee guided Dragon down off the chair and on top of her. She opened her trembling legs wide with eagerness. He eased down and she screamed her enthusiasm. Dragon was lost to everyone, harnessed to a passion Bethara never knew was in him. His cock, long and thick, rippling with pulsing veins, disappeared into the moist curls of the woman’s pussy. She grunted and gasped as he pounded into her, raising her hips to meet his punishing hunger. After screaming her release, Rylee crawled out from beneath him and climbed to her feet. Then Iris rolled him on his back, straddled him again, and stuffed his cock back into her.
Rylee came around behind Bethara, who stood mesmerized and kissed the back of her neck. Reaching around in front, she unfastened the buttons on Bethara’s shirt. The woman pulled the fabric back exposing her breasts. Then slipping it all of the way off, she dropped it to the floor.
“Yes, yes, my beloved!” Iris shouted in a voice clouded with passion. “Release the beast inside your soul!”
Her cries grew louder and more desperate for release. She prayed to Gods Bethara had never heard of and screamed Dragon’s name until the rafters shook. In response, he growled, not like a man, but like a rutting beast and then abruptly pulled his cock from her body, causing her to cry out in surprise.
Bethara was still so entranced she hardly noticed when Rylee finished removing her clothes. Dragon rose from Iris’ trembling body like a predator rising from a fresh kill. The witch rubbed her belly and her sex as she rolled away from him, her flesh glowing with fiendish, carnal delight.
Dragon’s green eyes glowed with incandescent power as he prowled toward Bethara. His head lowered and a demon’s smile bled onto his lips. All teeth and none of the good humor. He looked different, more robust and brimming with sexual intent. A thrill of terror mixed with longing teased her. A wet, hungry need she hadn’t felt in years tormented her pussy. For the first time, she wanted him like no man she had ever laid eyes on before. He was a monster, an abomination, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of life they could have together. But none of that mattered. Her desire was all consuming. It was a thirst she had to quench, even if the water was poison.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you and I want you.”
“Then come here. I’m very hungry and have nothing to eat.” His voice echoed, an eerie mixture of two blended into one.
She went to him much faster than she wanted. He took her face in his hands and claimed her lips in a searing kiss. Bethara kissed him back, dueling with his mouth to devour as much of him as he did her. His hand gripped her under the jaw and she saw that his nails were longer and sharper than before.
With firm but gentle pressure, he turned her away from him and bent her over a nearby table. Then he kicked her legs apart. She felt his rough hands grip her inner thighs, opening them further. The light tickle of his tongue fluttered over her pussy. It wriggled into the plump folds to find the engorged center of her most fervent agony. The contact made her groan out his name as long and loud as the witches had before her.
She bucked back to enjoy him. “Oh please, please, Dragon, more.”
His tongue teased and tortured. It explored the wet channel of her sex and the throbbing nugget of her jewel. Bethara tried everything she could to steal an orgasm from him but his touch was much too light to satisfy her. He was taking great pleasure in denying her the one thing she wanted so desperately.
Then, without warning, he claimed her. His thrust had gone deep, like the root of a tree into the fertile land. His cock stretched and filled her, nourished and restored. It reached so far inside her it touched something hidden. The thrust ignited an explosion of sweet, heavenly bliss. Animal grunts and sighs filled the air, and Bethara was shocked to realize she was the one making them. With shaking fingers she touched her clit and gasped at the sensation. She touched further back to where Dragon’s cock was pump
ing its lust into her. Her sex was taut, stretched to its limit around his hammering rod. Gripping his heavy balls she gently squeezed and massaged them, still unable to believe this was happening.
Her flesh came alive with thrilling light caresses. It was the witches, writing symbols all over their flesh. They carried the cryptic look of a dead language. Every candle in the room flamed high and cast strange shadows against the walls.
Dragon slowly slid his cock from her pussy. Bethara was disoriented and disappointed for a moment until he turned her around. Kissing her lips tenderly, he gripped her right leg and lifted it up on his hip. Then he pushed into her again, the stretching friction pure bliss. This time he pumped into her slowly, with long determined thrusts. The next climax made her cry out and dig her nails into his back. His release came right after hers as he drove the last of his passion into her throbbing center.
Reveling in the strange emotions, she held him a little longer. A boundary had been breached. She was a part of this madness by choice, so she no longer had the luxury to complain. It was oddly erotic and she was fascinated by how excited it made her.
Chapter 13
Harlan had been having strange dreams. They were intensely erotic but escaped her mind once she awoke. She chalked it up to stress. It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough of that to drive anyone insane. As she stood before Nineveh, being ignored, she felt her temper rising. I am so not in the mood for her shit today.
The Razorback Queen finally looked up from her doodling and stared at Harlan. “Yes, what do you want now?”
“I have done what you asked of me and completed my sentence. If you have doubts you can verify it with your Medical Director. Now I’d like to leave...please.” As far as Harlan was concerned, Nineveh didn’t deserve a please. But maybe if she was humble, the royal bitch wouldn’t delay her freedom.
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