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The Dragon's Reluctant Sacrifice: a Dragon Shifter Romance (The Last Dragons Book 1)

Page 9

by Ines Johnson


  As if the thrift store chic circa 1985 weren’t enough, the flashbacks now wafted to her ears. Making her way down the hall, she thought she heard a familiar song. The tune brought back memories of lazy Saturday mornings, high school angst, and neon-bright shirts. Following the sound to the end of a long hallway, Chryssie poked her head in a bedroom just as Zack Morris swaggered into the doors of Bayside High.

  Inside the bedroom, a woman sat propped up by pillows on a bed. The woman was visibly older. A few gray hairs touched her scalp, but long, brownish-red curls fell down her back. She was dressed in a Victorian, high-necked nightdress with ruffles. She stared at the television as Screech trailed after Lisa Turtle. The bedridden woman’s eyes were vacant as they watched the ill-fated love story play out.

  Beside her, sat Elek. The quiet dragon shifter had the same vacant stare. On the screen, Bayside’s resident bad boy, AC Slater, came on set decked out in a black wife-beater. Unlike the woman, Elek turned when Chryssie entered the room.

  “I’m sorry,” said Chryssie backing out of the room. It was just another weird mash-up of cultures, time periods, and reality of a dragon and a lady watching the Saturday morning classic kid’s show.

  Elek scooted over on the bed. Was he making room for her? Chryssie’s feet were moving before she decided to sit with him.

  She liked Elek’s calm. He’d told her the way out her first day there. He hadn’t gotten into any fights, not in the game room, not outside now. She wanted to be away from violence. She didn’t even want to fight with Corun about their sex life. She wanted to get lost in the simple chore of watching the idiot tube.

  This was one of her only fond memories of childhood in the foster system. One family, the Direnzos, would gather and watch old reruns of Different Strokes and The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, two shows that featured kids coming from poverty into an upper-class home.

  How were the dragons getting these programs? Then she remembered her captor, the Valkyrie. She wondered if she could ask if the Valkyrie could bring her the latest reality TV? Or maybe she could get a hookup to Netflix or Hulu?

  “Slater,” said Jessie from the TV.

  The two characters stood close. Chryssie had forgotten they were in a relationship on the show. The comedy was so dominated by the Zach Morris and Kelly Kapowski plot.

  “Since we’re together,” Jessie was saying on the television, “I think we should share the household chores.”

  “Sure,” agreed the young Mario Lopez in his role as AC Slater. “You cook, and I’ll eat.”

  Chryssie chuckled as she watched the tall feminist glare at her Latin lover. Elek scratched at his chin and cocked his head to the side as if he didn’t get the joke.

  Chryssie looked at him, then at the woman. That’s when she saw the resemblance. “Is this your mother?”

  Elek’s grin dissipated. “She was a sacrifice. She didn’t mother me. She barely survived my birth.”

  Chryssie looked at the woman. She didn’t entirely understand what Elek said, but she guessed the meaning. Corun had told her that birthing dragons killed women. Or worse. This comatose state must be the worst.

  “Her name is Miyaoaxochitl,” said Elek. “You can call her Miya.”

  “I’m sorry.” Chryssie wasn’t sure who she said it to. Elek or his mother.

  “You didn’t do anything,” said Elek. “I’m the one that ripped out of her. Only me. My brother died inside her womb.”

  Chryssie gulped, but the taste of the bile in her throat roiled her stomach. She’d been born to save a life and failed. A dragon’s sacrifice would die to bring forth life. The guilt that she couldn’t save her sister had crushed her. How could a baby even lift its little head knowing its life was had at the cost of its mother?

  “I told you to run,” Elek said. “Now, you have no choice. Sacrifices have no choices.”

  Chryssie bit her lip as she regarded the state of the woman beside her. The vacant stare in Miya’s eyes was a kind of death. She looked comfortable and not in any pain. No one controlled her life. In fact, Miya had a son serving her needs.

  Elek brushed a stray hair from her forehead and held a cup of tea to her mouth. Miya sipped without blinking, her gaze stayed trained on the television.

  The people who had been paid to take care of Chryssie—doctors, foster parents, the state—had never cared that much for her. This was still a better deal than death.

  “I made my choice,” said Chryssie. “We’re all going to die someday. I don’t mind going out by bringing in a new life. Especially when I know my children would be strong and caring like you and your brother.”

  Elek chewed at his lower lip as he stared at her. He held his mother’s fingers in his palm, stroking the digits gently, absently.

  “But that’s a moot point,” she said. “Corun told me he wouldn’t have a baby with me.”

  Elek chuckled, the sound humorless. “That’s not his choice. His dragon won’t be able to resist. It’s what males are born to do; breed.”

  “When you have a sacrifice, will you breed?”

  “I’ve already taken two lives. What do I need with a sacrifice?”

  Elek plumped the pillow behind Miya’s head and started watching the show again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "She said she'd bring us sacrifices?" said Ilia.

  "Yes," said Corun.

  "Live ones?"

  "Female ones,” said Elek. "With working bits, who are mature. In body at least.”

  Ilia and Beryl’s earlier spat was forgotten in light of Morrigan’s offer. The two males fairly pranced like Cardi would each time before the day she called Christmas, which happened once every other month.

  Corun couldn’t blame his brothers’ questions. In their father's time, females were often sacrificed too young. Sometimes boys were delivered instead of girls. And a time or two, dead bodies had been delivered.

  There had been a long-standing tradition of humans delivering girls for sacrifice in exchange for gems in the mountains and caves that connected their world to the Veil. Once dragons had had their pick of sacrifices. But at some point, men began coveting their women. Something Cardi called Women's Liberation. Whatever had happened, the sacrificial pool had already begun to dry up when the Valkyries closed the doors.

  "I didn't get that specific," said Corun. "But she knows that's what we require."

  Ilia sighed. "You need to spell out the details. You saw what happened to Kimber. Cardi was the last sanctioned sacrifice of our generation, and he can't do anything with her."

  Yet. Cardi was approaching maturity in body, if not in mind. Corun was sure she'd perpetually be an adolescent in mind.

  But not his Chrysanthemum. His mate was a full-grown woman. He could have her body right now. Just the thought of what rested between her thighs had his loins tightening.

  "When will she deliver the first one?" asked Ilia.

  "She didn't say,” said Corun.

  "The first will be mine," snarled Beryl.

  "Why? Because of birthright? If anyone should be first, it should be Rhoyl,” said Ilia. “Maybe a woman could bring him back?”

  They turned to the window in time to see Rhoyl’s dragon push off the windowsill. It seemed there was no way the dragon would release the man.

  "Clearly, he can't do anything with a sacrifice,” said Beryl. “So, by birthright, the next one will be mine.”

  "You'll fight me for her." Ilia squared off against his brother.

  "I'll fight you now." Beryl puffed up his chest.

  "You two," bellowed Corun. "Take it outside. I won't have you destroy any more of the furniture today."

  The two younger men looked at each other and then dove for the window, wings stretching out to cushion their spiral to the ground. The scrapping of flesh and gnashing of teeth followed, but Corun didn't care. He had his own mate to contend with. He climbed the stairs to their room.

  Chrysanthemum sat in a chair looking out the window. Her feet were curled under
her. Her head was down, her brows drawn in concentration. The gems around her neck caught the setting sun and dazzled Corun. In her hands was the Rubik’s cube.

  Her fingers worked fast, twisting and turning the device over and around in her palm. Corun watched, transfixed as she solved one color block. But he wasn’t fooled. No sooner had all the red blocks fallen into place and she switched to another face, did the red fall back into chaos.

  Chrysanthemum was undaunted. With a few flicks of her wrist, the blue side was solved, and the red returned to order. On and on, around and around she went, tossing the colors she’d solved back into disorder while she solved the next side. Once the new side was solved, the previous sides went back into order until the cube was nine sides of undisrupted colors.

  “How did you do that?” he demanded.

  Chrysanthemum looked up at his approach. Her gaze took him in, then her eyes flicked back to the device in her hand. “It’s simple, really. Just a matter of algorithms.”

  “Algorithms?”

  “Patterns and sequences. This kid I was in foster care with taught me. He said the trick is that it’s easier to create chaos than it is to create order.”

  Before Corun could stop her, Chrysanthemum sent the cube back into disarray. With just a few flicks of her wrist, the blocks descended into chaos once more. The solution was lost.

  “You’ll always create more chaos before you get to order,” she said. “So, you have to pick your battles.”

  Corun picked the cube from her hand and set it aside. He lifted her from the seat, sat down, and then placed her on his lap. When he wrapped his arms around her, she didn't offer protest.

  In the sky, Beryl and Ilia snipped at each other. Rhoyl gave chase but stayed on the fringe. It was a fight in which he didn’t want the prize.

  "They're fighting again?" she asked.

  “Dragons prefer to start battles in the sense that they start them. But you won't have to get used to it. More sacrifices will arrive. Soon, hopefully. So, you'll have someone like you to talk to."

  She turned to him. "You're going to kidnap more girls?"

  "It's the way our world works,” he sighed. “And you haven’t met Cardi yet. She’s quite young, but she is female and human.”

  Chrysanthemum tucked her head into the side of his neck. Corun cradled her like the precious thing she was. He wanted this peace for his brothers.

  "Have you come to sate your beast?" she asked.

  "No, I've come to pleasure my mate."

  "I know what you're doing." She lifted her head. Something passed over her features. It looked like sorrow mixed with gratitude. "Thank you."

  Corun’s brows furrowed as he watched her. She was docile, sedate. Her red hair still blazed around her. Her gaze was cool.

  "I saw Elek's mother,” she said.

  Corun ground his teeth, pulling her closer. He pushed his nose into the space behind her ear and inhaled. That was not something he wanted her to witness, though he knew she would. Eventually.

  Corun visited Miya every once in a while. His dragon was compelled to as she was a sacrifice. But it broke the man’s heart each time.

  "I understand the risks you're trying to keep me from,” Chrysanthemum continued. “I’ve been experimented on so much in my life like I was a living cube. Doctors have twisted and turned me so many directions, never coming to any solution. I always thought that death would be better.”

  Corun lifted his head and captured her lips. Neither man nor beast liked talk of her death. She would live a long and healthy life here under his wing.

  “But I realized today, that inside, I was always whole. I was just in the wrong place.”

  Corun put his nose in her hair again, back in that space just behind her ear where there was always a bit of salty sweat. He licked at it now, reveling in the sweet and salty taste of his mate.

  "I thought you were only using me. But maybe you actually care?"

  Corun swallowed. But his dragon spat out the truth. "You are my treasure."

  Rising on sure feet, he brought her to the bed. When he laid her down, she offered her wrists to him. Corun looked at her in confusion.

  "Aren't you going to bind me?" she asked.

  That gutted him. Because he wanted to. But he no longer needed to. Not now that he had her surrender.

  "I still want you inside me." She slid her arms around his neck.

  Corun sighed. He'd have to tie her up after all. It was no hardship. He liked his mate bound to him.

  "I have a proposition for you," she said

  Corun stretched her arms over her head. He looked around the room to see what he could use as bindings.

  "Condoms,” she said.

  Corun watched her lips form the foreign word. The way her lips pressed together at the completion of the word sent a thrill through him.

  "It's a thin piece of plastic, a material that you cover your … you-know-who with … so that I can't get pregnant."

  It didn't sound possible. His brows squished together. His pupils darted around as though in search of the item she spoke of.

  "It's human technology. It works. Well, it's 99% effective."

  The dragon was panting. The man was calculating. They both liked those odds. His grip loosened on her hands. She lifted her torso and reached down to the floor.

  "I have one." She reached into her boot and produced a small, thin metallic packet.

  Corun couldn't breathe as he watched her tear the package with her teeth. Out of the foil, came a flat circular tube. He was certain it would not encompass his manhood.

  But before he could warn her, Chrysanthemum reached down to his pants. He was so focused on the condom that he was unprepared for her touch.

  Corun collapsed onto the bed when her fingers grazed him. Thoughts of bindings fled his mind as his mate rolled the encasing down his manhood in a thin sheath of protection.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chryssie’s fingers shook as she slid the thin condom on Corun’s massive erection. She'd watched her share of porn on the web. But she'd always skipped over the Big Cock, Little Girl videos. She tended more toward the few and far between romantic scenes on the sites. The ones where the man gave the woman a few pecks on the mouth before shoving his cock down her throat.

  You know, the thoughtful ones.

  Maybe she should do that. Maybe she should take Corun’s cock into her mouth. Not only had he kissed her breathless, but he'd also given her body-numbing oral. She should do the same. It would be thoughtful, romantic.

  As she tried to remember the bobbing techniques of the working girls on the porn sites, Chryssie unrolled the condom from Corun’s throbbing erection. He hissed, frowning down at her. His large hand wrapped around her wrists like a vise. Crap, she’d already screwed up the screwing, and no parts of either of their bodies were inside the other person’s.

  “Is it defective?” he asked, his voice sounding as though it had been thrown against a bunch of ragged rocks.

  Chryssie stared at his manhood, which was no longer staring back at her. It bobbed and wept in front of her face. Like a sad little snake with hypnotic tears.

  She licked her lips, completely under its spell. “No, it looks fine to me.”

  Corun’s eyes glowed bright, a firestorm of reds and oranges. After her words, the haze of desire cleared up enough for a spot of brown to shine through his gaze.

  “No,” he said. “Not my cock. The … what did you call it? Condom?”

  “Oh, no. The condom is fine. It’s just, well, I was going to give you a blow job first. Before, we … because you … you know.”

  “A blow job?” He winced, scooting his hips away and covering his teary-eyed erection with one hand.

  “Oh, no. No. I wasn’t going to actually blow on it.” God, this was turning into a disaster. “I was going to lick and suck on it. Like how you did for me yesterday.”

  Her cheeks were hotter than the fire in his eyes. His hand still blocked his erection. Wa
s he not going to let her do it?

  She was tired of him dictating the bounds of their relationship. She’d offered up her life to have his children. The least he could do was let her play with his cock.

  Filled with determination, Chryssie nudged his hand away from his erection with a defiant chin. She stuck out her tongue as though to taunt him with a little Nanny Nanny Boo Boo. But when the first swipe of her tongue caught the underside of his tip, Corun collapsed back onto his elbows.

  Ha! She had him now. Finally, she was in charge of the situation. She would not squander this chance.

  She aimed her mouth for his erection … only to find that she could barely fit all of his thickness in her mouth. What she could touch with her lips was soft and firm. What she could taste with her tongue was sweet and salty. Chryssie sucked greedily, lapping at the pulsing vein that thumped with her every suckle.

  Her sexy dragon growled, sounding more beast than man. Her jaw muscles relaxed, and she took a little more than half of him all the way down into her throat.

  Corun roared. She felt the heat of his flames on her back. Forget being a vampire slayer. Chryssie was the dragon slayer now.

  She worked him with her tongue. What she couldn’t fit in her mouth, she worked with her hands. Corun was a writhing, moaning mess, and she'd never felt more powerful in her life.

  Then she was being lifted up. She came off his cock with a pop. She floated in the air a moment before being tossed down on her back.

  Corun pinned her to the bed. His eyes were brighter than a supernova. Chryssie felt not a hint of fear. She was overflowing with desire for her dragon.

  With trembling hands, Corun snatched the condom from her. It was still clutched in her palm. The piece of plastic was crumbled, but Corun straightened it out and rolled it back on his erection.

 

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