by Pearl Foxx
“Zayd,” she moaned beneath him, turning to look back at him over her shoulder. Her light-colored eyes flashed in the darkness, her lips swollen from their kissing. His grip in her hair tightened, and he craned her neck back to reveal more of her neck.
He was right at that edge, ready to throw himself over. Then she shifted beneath him, closing her legs and making her pussy impossibly tight around his cock as he rammed back inside her.
The sensation was like shifting. Like exploding from his skin and becoming something more, something better. Her cry matched his, and he pulled back and rocked into her tight body again and again.
There was no notion of holding back now. There was only the fall from the edge inside him.
He was useless to stop it.
It drove him harder and faster until he jackhammered into her with abandon. He let himself release his iron hold on his control and gave over completely to the needs of his body. His skin hummed and everyplace they touched vibrated.
When his hips slammed into her again, a strangled cry broke from his lips. He’d never felt anything like this, the absolute freedom of giving himself over to another person, unrestrained. As his body began to pulse and his balls tightened with his impending orgasm, he reached around Niva’s small body, dragging his fingers to her wet slit to seek out the bundle of nerves that would bring her to the ultimate high.
When he found her clit, she bucked against him, arching her back, and cried out his name. It echoed through the mountain pass and in his heart, swelling pride deep within him.
They flew together in every way, bodies in perfect sync, and as Zayd pounded into her pussy, he reached a point where all rational thought evaporated. All that existed in the universe was Niva’s body. He pushed her harder to the ground and slammed his hips down at a new angle.
She screamed, her body convulsing beneath him. The clench of her inner walls around his cock pushed him over, and he roared in answer.
Pleasure exploded in his body, sending out an avalanche of passion and emotions that washed over him, leaving him exhausted and shaking. As Zayd’s orgasm overtook him, he wrapped his arms around her and slammed his body into her one last time, quivering with uncontrollable thrusts.
Niva collapsed beneath him, and he lowered his weight, not wanting to pull out of her quite yet. He wrapped around her back, shifting her tight against him so there was no room between their skin. Running his hands down her sides, over her arms, through her hair, he stroked every inch of her, wanting no part of her perfect body to be untouched.
She hummed as his hand stroked her belly, and he lowered his lips to the sensitive flesh behind her ear and whispered, “So fucking beautiful.”
“Zayd,” she said, her voice rasping. “That was…”
“I know.”
In his post-sex haze, he wanted to tell her that being inside her was the closest thing to peace he’d ever felt. That the freedom her body had offered up would be cherished. He wanted to keep her with him forever.
He chewed on her shoulder, lazily thrusting his cock in and out of her just to feel the last few moments of connection.
She let out a low moan as he pulled out and rolled onto his back. Instantly, without her warmth around him, he felt an emptiness he knew wouldn’t be filled until he was inside her again.
Like she felt it too, Niva gasped, arms and legs quivering.
Zayd blinked, trying to clear his vision from the lust-filled haze he had been lost in while Niva wiped something off her cheek and then turned her hand to show him.
Blood.
He could only see a bit of darkness on her fingers, but the smell cut through him like a knife in the gut. “You’re bleeding.”
“I scraped my cheek on the rocks,” she said, offering him a shy smile. But a tear of blood welled atop her delicate cheekbone, ready to fall down her glowing skin.
In that moment, her face disappeared. Her blood wasn’t her own, but someone else’s.
The mountain ridge fell away from them, and all he saw was a battle-filled sky.
He heard the screams of Draqons, the gusts of their wings, the whiz of arrows.
He saw Sotu, her neck coated in blood.
He saw her falling from him, through the fire. Her terrified eyes locked on his as she screamed for him to save her. He saw himself diving down through his own flames, burning himself nearly alive to reach her.
He saw himself failing.
Zayd scrambled up and stumbled away, scrubbing at his eyes to rid them of the memory.
“Zayd?” Niva asked, sitting up. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
He shook his head. Her voice morphed and became Sotu’s. Became his mate’s.
His dead mate.
The mate he couldn’t even follow into death.
Because they hadn’t been true mates.
Because his true mate was this human before him, who stared up at him with green eyes, shivering without his body to warm her.
Niva was his true rider.
Sotu had died for nothing. And because he was the worst sort of man, he would probably get Niva killed as well.
“Talk to me,” Niva said from the ground. She covered her breasts with her arm, using her other hand to keep her long black hair from blowing across her face. A drop of blood spilled down her cheek.
She was beautiful and perfect and everything he didn’t deserve.
He shouldn’t get a second chance.
Sotu hadn’t.
“I… I’m sorry…” He took two steps away and then broke into a run, leaving his leathers and the small naked woman he didn’t think he could ever apologize to enough on the ground behind him.
Chapter Eleven
Zayd
Zayd hurled himself over the edge of the cliff head first. He dove through the air and, for a moment, considered not shifting and allowing his body to shatter on the rocks below until the scavenging animals pick him apart, leaving only bleached bones in the sun-kissed snow.
Self-preservation kicked in and his body contorted, shifting from man to beast. His giant wings unfurled from his back, stretching out to their full width. His arms and legs shifted and bent while his hands morphed into talons, claws extending. His wings caught an updraft, and he let the wind carry him through the cavern, far from the overhang where he’d left Niva.
The image of her naked beneath him flashed through his reptilian mind, seducing and enraging him. He hated himself for wanting to taste her skin again, for wanting to sink deep inside her body and feel the pure connection he had been certain existed there. But his heart was a liar. His time alone without a mate had stretched his sanity further than he’d realized, and now his thread of self-control had snapped. He’d always known he was barely hanging on, keeping his rage and fury at the forefront to stay in control, but he never imagined it would bleed over into his treatment of another person, especially not someone like Niva.
She was good and pure, calm and strong. But he couldn’t think of her that way anymore.
He couldn’t think of her at all.
He only got one chance at a mate, and he’d lost it with Sotu.
He flapped his wings once he was far enough away from the hive to rise into the clouds. He let the airstreams carry him and gave himself over to pure instinct. For a moment, he was free from all rational thought.
The mountain range below him separated in a Y. To the left was the trail that led to the small mountain the Vilkas took so much pride in, and the right led out to the uninhabited mountain terrain where even the Draqons hadn’t settled. He glided to the right, catching a blast of cold mountain air, but it didn’t faze him. His internal combustion kept him warm, and if it hadn’t, the rage simmering inside would have been more than enough.
Zayd flew for a long time as the night sky around him darkened. The darkest hour before dawn. Out here, the clouds hung low, blocking the moons’ light. The snow beneath him looked pristine and shiny, and the air smelled sharply of evergreens and sap.
In the distance, he spotted a herd of animals moving through the valley’s unsettled territory. It was a harsh landscape that even the Skax wouldn’t roost in. But Zayd was in the mood for fresh meat and warm blood. He swooped lower to examine the animals.
Only then did he realize they weren’t animals at all, but people.
Shifters.
It was an area no one should have been wandering around in, and if any members of his hive had gotten lost that far out, they may need help. Whatever else he may be, he was still a leader and he loved his people. Even if he couldn’t be the kind of man they deserved—the kind of man Niva deserved—he would always be someone who would rescue them from the fire.
He dropped down closer to get a better look, but as he did he realized the people weren’t dressed in leathers. They were wrapped in Katu hides and standing on two legs.
One looked up at the sound of his wings approaching. With his second form’s vision, he saw the sharp teeth and scaled skin of a Hyla. They screamed, running from the clearing and jumping behind the trees.
He should go back to the hive and get help. He shouldn’t take on a collection of Hylas out here by himself. But as he considered his options, one raised something into the air, pointed the gleaming end at him, and a blast of sound ricocheted off the mountains.
Guns.
He’d never seen Hylas with guns before. They were generally against technology, unless it served their purposes, but what purpose could guns possibly serve for them? They already controlled most of Kladuu.
He roared, the smell of gunpowder enraging his primal mind. Acid filled his mouth, and fire sparked deep in his lungs, just waiting for him to bring forth his fury. He dove toward the group of Hylas and realized too late that, in the sparse foliage, others had been hidden from view.
There were at least fifteen Hylas, with more pouring out of the trees. This wasn’t a small hunting group. This was a war party, and he’d interrupted their preparations.
He wasn’t prepared for a battle of this size. But rage coiled in his belly, eager to strike. It bared its fangs and hissed as he spat acid toward the group. The Hylas scattered, falling over each other to get away from his attack.
Behind cover, some of them lifted their guns and fired as he pulled up from the dive.
He rolled and tumbled, flying over and under the bullets whizzing past him. There was nowhere to hide up in the sky from their guns, no backup to distract the Hylas as Zayd turned back, exposing his vulnerable belly to their fire.
He’d have to take the fight to them.
He dove again. With a kamikaze screech, he reached out with his front talons and descended directly at them. He managed to land on two, ripping through the flesh of one Hyla’s neck with his talons before rolling and shifting into his primary form.
On two feet, he faced the remaining Hylas. All around them, fire and fallen bodies littered the snow, soaking it red. He used the fires he’d caused as cover and kept low, rushing through the smoke and ash.
As a Hyla came closer, gun pointed into the fire, Zayd dashed out from the side and shoved the shifter into the flames and pounced on another. He wrapped his arm around the enemy’s neck, gripping her by the chin and twisting until he heard the telltale snap of a broken neck.
Zayd held the limp body before him, a buffer between him and the bullets shot by the remaining Hylas.
He threw their clanswoman at them, using the body to drive them farther toward the stream. One Hyla dropped his gun and ran, but Zayd was faster. He grabbed him by the arm, wrenching him around until he could punch the Hyla in the face over and over.
The moment his fist landed on the moist skin of the Hyla, he felt a burn across his chest. No, not a burn. A throb. Then sleek, cool pain swelled until it burst, overriding his vision with black dots.
He looked down and saw blood dripping down his front. A roar ripped from his throat, and he slammed his fist into the man’s face again, making him drop the knife he’d used to slash Zayd.
He dropped the Hyla to the ground and began to shift. As his wings extended, he heard the blast of another gunshot and a soft hiss as the bullet flew through the air. White-hot pain lanced across his wing.
Half shifted out of his back, his left wing contracted against his body, shot through.
Not thinking of the pain or the damage he could do to his injured wing, Zayd completed his transformation into a massive Draqon evolved for battle and screamed with righteous fury before rushing toward the remaining Hylas.
Chapter Twelve
Niva
Niva hit the ice for the countless time that morning.
The impact reverberated through her sore body. She ached in delicious, deep places; the bruises of the night before were strewn across her skin like black and blue confetti. But eclipsing the thrilling, nearly euphoric memories from last night—she had felt Zayd so deeply inside her that she imagined she’d felt his breath on her bones—was the way he’d left her.
His stricken face as he’d backed away from her turned her blood cold. And the way he’d flung himself off the cliff… She’d leaped to her feet, dragging her clothes back against her body and clutching her breath as she’d stumbled over to the edge. Then he’d gusted back up in his Draqon form, great fire-hued wings thrusting against the air, sending gusts of wind and ice pricking her skin.
Part of her had thought he wouldn’t shift. She didn’t know why. Something in his eyes as he’d turned away from her right before jumping had spoken volumes about how much he hated himself in that moment.
Only when she’d seen him soaring through the air had she let out the breath she’d been holding.
A hand appeared in front of her face. Niva blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and peered up at Grace.
“Where are you this morning?” the older Draqon asked. “Because it’s certainly not here.”
“Sorry.” Niva grimaced, taking the woman’s hand and straightening carefully on the ice. “Long night.”
Grace arched an eyebrow. “So I smell.”
Niva nearly fell back on the ice. “What?”
“No offense, but you reek of Zayd. And the western ridge isn’t that far away. Sound carries up here.”
A furious heat worked its way up the back of her neck. Her tongue sat thick in her mouth. Were there no secrets in this place? She wasn’t even a part of the hive, and she still struggled to maintain any sort of privacy.
“Oh, I…” She coughed to clear her throat. Was the air thinner up here too? It felt thinner than at the Vilkas’ mountain.
Grace winked at her. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. Honestly, we were all happy to hear it. Although, you should know, Kinyi won’t be happy about you taking her place with him.”
Niva’s stomach turned oily. She’d thought perhaps there was something between Zayd and Kinyi, especially after the Skax incident, but to actually think about it threatened to make her sick. Clearly, Zayd wasn’t shy about bedding women, which axed her theory that Sotu’s memory had contributed to his hasty, panicked departure last night.
So, if it wasn’t Sotu, was it her? Was there something about her that just drove men away?
“Niva?”
She blinked, and Grace came back into focus. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.” She took a shaky breath. “I mean, have they been, um, together long?”
“I wouldn’t call what they do being together,” Grace scoffed. “Don’t get me wrong, it took him a while after Sotu died, and Kinyi was there, ready and eager to warm his bed. Don’t worry about it, dear. You’re far better for him than Kinyi would ever be.”
After seeing his face last night and watching him fling himself off the cliff edge, Niva doubted that. But whatever the reason for his reaction, she was still worried. “Have you seen him this morning?”
“No.” Grace’s face wrinkled in thought, but the effect did nothing to lessen her ageless beauty. “I haven’t. That’s not odd though. For all his bluster about unmated males not shifting, he tends to sh
ift and take off for long periods of time.”
“Why is it such a big deal? With the unmated males?”
Grace started moving across the ice again, and Niva followed without thinking. They parried and feigned in almost slow motion, moving with complete control, each flex of a muscle precise and efficient.
“It’s their minds. In their second form, there’s no filter between them and the other members of the hive. It’s a constant vibrating thread of energy. It can drive a male mad without a mate to concentrate the energy on.”
Niva’s worry doubled. To her, it sounded like a special sort of heaven to be constantly, inescapably connected to everyone around her. But for someone like Zayd, who’d been saved from madness by a mate, only to lose her? That had to be the worst kind of hell.
“Do you think he’s okay?” she asked, her voice warbling with fear. “Has he been gone this long before?”
“Don’t worry. He can take care of himself. He’s stronger than the other males at staying in control.”
Niva bit her lip. After last night, she wasn’t so certain. He’d hardly looked in control. But who was she to question someone’s sanity? As much as she wanted it, she wasn’t part of this hive. These weren’t her people. And most importantly, Zayd wasn’t hers to worry about. He wasn’t any of her concern.
For the rest of her training session with Grace, she held her tongue and shoved down her worries. Zayd had been fine for years before she knew him, and he would be fine now. She hadn’t broken him last night. It wasn’t her fault he’d run from her, horrified. To assume anything more would be vain.
He was fine, she told herself. He was fine.
The midday meal came and went without a glimpse of him. She went about her work helping prepare the evening meal with a feverish focus to keep her thoughts from wondering, but more times than not, she caught herself staring up at the sky, waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Where was he?
By early afternoon, she couldn’t pretend to work anymore. She went in search of Maxsym. If anyone would know where Zayd was, it would be his best friend and Swarm Master.
