by Amy Sumida
“Please, do not call me Azzy, Carus,” Azrael begged. “It makes me sound like an old, British rock star with bad hair.”
“Well, now you've ruined it,” I've grumbled.
“Kirill.” Azrael held his scythe out pointedly—pun intended.
“Vhat must I do to free them?” Kirill looked at the scythe as if it might have a release button.
“Just reclaim them,” Az instructed. “Place your hand on the blade. I will release the souls to you.”
Kirill pressed his palm against the widest part of the scythe and the glowing blue writing began to pulse. Light flowed into Kirill's palm until the writing on the blade went dormant. Kirill removed his hand and turned his palm upright to cradle a shimmering ball of sky-blue light. Within the light, there was movement—brighter lights swirling like fishes in a bowl.
“Now, release them.” Azrael lifted his scythe and it vanished.
The Black Lion extended the ball of light before him and its blue light paled. It turned white, then the sphere lifted from his hand. The swirling shapes separated from the orb and flowed forward into four columns. The pillars took the shape of men and then the light faded into colors. Rick, Hamish, Noel, and Alan stood before us looking as vibrant as they had in Aaru. They stared around themselves in amazement, then gave a great, united whoop of excitement.
Noel ran to the dining hall to use the intercom. “We're back, lion bitches! Get your asses down here and welcome us home!”
“Noel!” I snarled.
Noel's eyes went wide.
“It's nearly midnight and there are children in the palace now. Young children! I don't want them to hear foul language. You are not living with jackals anymore. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Ma'am,” Noel said contritely. “I mean, Tima. I'm sorry.”
I nodded crisply as the sound of pounding feet announced the descent of the Intare. All of the Intare. Soon, the entry hall was overflowing with lion men, all of them talking at once as they tried to make their way to their returned brothers. After they'd welcomed our lost lions home, Kirill and I explained how they got to be there. Then Kirill gave them the same choice as he had our dead, and I gave the same assurances that I'd still be their goddess, even if they made a contract with a new god. Anubis had already released his hold on the Intare so I experienced a few moments of panic while the Pride wavered.
But I needn't have worried. In the end, they trusted Kirill and if I gave it my seal of approval, that was good enough for them. The entire Pride agreed to accept Kirill as their new god and secured their afterlives.
It was a long process since Kirill had to accept each man individually and I'm ashamed to say that I ducked out. Been there, done that. As much as I wanted to support Kirill, I also wanted to check in with Austin, then try to speak to Viper again and I couldn't wait hours to do that. I went upstairs to my bedroom so I'd have some quiet for the conversations. Luckily, neither Noel nor the Intare stampede had woken the children. We turned off the intercoms in their bedrooms at night, and I'd made the rooms soundproof for obvious reasons. I was now grateful for my foresight.
I tried Viper first but his response was the same as before: I could sense him but got nothing from him. Was he drunk? Where could he have gotten drunk? He shouldn't even be able to get drunk on human liquor. Where would he go without clothes and money? It made no sense. My gut was starting to twist with panic again. Viper had called me Dark Star, but I'd started wondering about him. He'd been infected with evil too. Toward the end, he was nearly as bad as I was—perhaps more so in some ways. Had some of that darkness remained inside him? It would explain his outburst and it would definitely explain his desertion. Had he deserted me?
I plopped down on the couch, my legs gone weak with fear. The rational part of my mind was telling me to calm down, that he hadn't been gone that long, and that Viper was smart and loyal and loved me. He'd get past his anger and come home. The other, less rational part of me was terrified. That part of me couldn't understand why Viper had fallen in love with me, to begin with. It was easy for that part to understand why he'd leave. It was so easy to believe that it had all been a lie. That Viper had somehow scammed me for reasons unknown.
But I couldn't get drawn down that spiral. I knew I was thinking irrationally. I mean, scammed? Really, Vervain? Sure, and maybe aliens had landed in Texas, dug him out of a snake-shifter tunnel, and abducted him to do crazy tests on him and figure out what made a star god tick. If you wanted to get technical, Faeries were aliens—they were from another realm. Maybe they had snatched him up and I'd find him waiting in the Forgetful Forest for me. Yep, that was just as likely as Viper scamming me like some kind of supernatural con artist.
Besides, if Viper wanted to leave, he was free to do so. As much as he seemed to think otherwise, I didn't run his life or own him. No one was forcing him to be here. And to be absolutely brutal, I didn't need him. My lioness magic was satisfied with my husbands, Viper was a bonus. I would survive. We both would.
I'd be miserable, but I'd survive.
“Aw, fuck you, Gloria Gaynor,” I grumbled. “I don't want to survive. I want to be happy.”
I shook my head at myself. That was uncalled for. What had Gloria done beyond belting out her truth and giving millions of women a battle song? I shouldn't take my anger out on her, even if she couldn't hear me. Was she even still alive? Had I just abused a dead woman? Ugh, my tendency toward tangents gets worse when I'm worried. I needed to stop going around in circles in my head and deal with this irrational panic. And the best way I could think of to deal with it was to focus on something else or someone else for awhile.
Since Lesya and Vero were asleep, I'd focus on my twins. The sun would just be rising in the Fire Kingdom—that's when I'd last left it—and I could stay there for a few weeks if I wanted to—just take a break from all of this. I wouldn't, of course. I don't think I could distract myself that long with all of this happening here, especially with Viper pulling his crap, but it's always nice to have the option. Plus, I missed my Fey family. Austin could wait a couple of minutes; I'd call him when I got back.
I connected with Trevor's mind and let him know that I was heading to Faerie and would be back soon. With my Ring of Remembrance, I would barely lose any time here and I could have left and returned with no one the wiser, but I'd promised my husbands that whenever I left, I'd tell them first. It was just common courtesy but they also needed to know in case something happened and I didn't make it back.
Trevor agreed that it was a good time for me to take a faerie break. Not that timing mattered, what with being able to come back to nearly the same time that I left, but still, it was nice to have his support instead of a protest. I asked my ring to take me back to a minute after I'd last left the Faerie Realm and it obliged, pulling me through time and the realms. I had long ago gotten used to the odd sensation of time travel—the tingling pull and weightlessness—so it barely affected me. I reformed in the bedroom I shared with Arach in Castle Aithinne, completely steady on my feet.
I took a deep breath and let the warmth and fresh air revive me. It was Summer in Faerie and that meant our bedroom's false ceiling had been removed and the hollow cone of the mountain peak that was our true vaulted ceiling spired above me in cathedral-like glory. The castle had been magically carved out of a mountain range—with an active volcano. This wasn't your typical, volatile, single crater volcano. Underground rivers of magma meandered across our kingdom before flowing beneath our castle and then bubbling up around the side ends of Aithinne to emerge at the peaks that bordered the castle. So, I suppose that made it two volcanoes.
The magma didn't erupt so much as gurgle out and down, outlining the section of mountain that the castle inhabited before falling into a trench in front of the mountain range and turning into our magma moat. At night, the magma illuminated the carvings of Fire Fey and creatures that further defined the castle walls. There were rooms at either end of the castle that opened overlooked the lava fl
ows, providing fantastic views while luxuriating in all the natural heat. This was particularly helpful in Winter and those were the only windows that weren't bordered up during the cold season. But the royal residence was on the top floor, beneath the largest mountain peak, and far away from the flows. The entire castle was heated by the underground magma so that even in Winter, it would be nice and toasty everywhere in Aithinne. But with the huge, naturally-vaulted ceiling of the peak, we'd waste precious warmth during the colder months. So, we covered it with a false ceiling and installed shutters over the windows during Autumn and Winter.
But, as I said, it was Summer so the shutters and false ceiling were gone. The cool night air flowed in unimpeded through the open window but wasn't strong enough to make it up the hollow peak and threaten the multitude of candles burning in nooks there. The candlelight cast a soft, golden glow on the room below, but was no competition for the rosy tones of the rising sun. Both candlelight and sunlight stroked the sleeping dragon king adoringly, flowing over his fair skin and turning it molten.
The Forgetful Forest lay outside the window near the bed, the pennants of the Castle of Eight marking its center, several hundred yards away. Fey birds started to sing, waking up the yawning realm, and the sun painted the sky with pink and orange. But I only glanced at the stunning view, the picture my husband presented couldn't be ignored for long.
Arach's lean body lay half covered, if that. I could still see the indent in the pillow beside him and the thrown back covers from when I had left our bed. I wanted to return to this so I'd left without waking him. Naughty of me, I know, but Arach didn't get as upset as the others about me leaving without letting him know. He didn't like it, but under the right circumstances, he wouldn't get mad about it, especially if I returned in an amorous mood.
And simply seeing him like this was making me amorous.
I stepped up to the foot of the wrought iron, four-poster bed. The silk hangings were the lighter charmeuse we used in the warmer months—a brilliant crimson that turned the draped swaths into waterfalls of blood. Arach's hair matched the fabric—a color that should have looked odd on a man or even effeminate, but Arach could never appear to be either. Exotic maybe—with his slanted dragon eyes of sulfurous yellow flecked with gold and green, accented by red scales at his temples—but not odd. And though he was slimmer than my other husbands, every line of his body radiated power and animal grace. The definition of his muscles mimicked those of a predator—made for hunting and killing—and the wicked angles of his face were all male.
I admired the curve of Arach's calf, stretched out from beneath the covers, and the length of his back draped by the blood of his hair. He was slightly on his side and slightly on his stomach, turned as if he'd been reaching for me. I slipped out of my clothes and crept around to my side of the bed, watching his face for any sign of awakening. His nostrils flared as I drew closer but his eyes remained closed. I leaned forward, about to crawl in beside him, when I saw the scales at his temples spread down his face, emerging along the outside of his neck before bracketing his chest.
I went still.
“If you don't get into this bed in three seconds, I will pounce, A Thaisce,” Arach's early-morning voice rumbled across my skin.
A Thaisce. It sounds like Ah Hah-sh kay and means “my treasure,”—the ultimate endearment a dragon could give. He'd drawn out the word this time, making it sound sensual.
I contemplated his ultimatum for one of the three seconds he'd given me. Did I want a pouncing dragon? Sounded like fun. But I wasn't in the mood to be chased around the bedroom. I needed comfort and I needed it now. I got into bed and Arach leaned back and lifted his arm to allow me closer. I moved up against him automatically, pressing my softness to all of his hardness, especially that rising between us.
Arach rumbled happily, deep in his throat, and finally opened his eyes. “Did you leave me, wife?”
“Only briefly,” I whispered before kissing him.
Firm lips slashed over mine. A hot tongue invaded my mouth. The tender skin of my lips tingled and trembled. Strong hands pulled me closer as Arach's kiss deepened. A soft breath of fire trickled from him into me. I drank it down and purred. I loved Arach like this—aroused but still a bit sleepy. He was in that state of lethargy that gave me the leeway to do with him as I pleased. And I was going to take full advantage of it.
I pushed Arach onto his back and brought my kiss down his neck, over those glossy scales, so cool against my lips. Dragon scales translate sensation differently than skin; solid blows or slashes are deflected without transferring any pain while the pleasure of strokes and kisses were intensified. Which meant my dragon was writhing by the time I made it to his right nipple. I bit lightly and he snarled, teeth bared and hand going to my head to pull me closer, demanding more. I scratched my nails lightly down his sculpted chest as I sucked at him, my legs twining with his. Arach's breath started to quicken.
“I missed you,” he finally gave me his traditional greeting, always delivered upon my return from another realm.
“You couldn't have,” I teased him. “You didn't know I was gone.”
“I did know,” Arach insisted as he snatched up my trailing hand and pressed it to his chest, directly above his heart. “Here.”
I smiled against his skin. “I missed you more,” I whispered and kissed my way down the dip between his hard abs. “Allow me to prove it.”
Arach rumbled in anticipation as I moved even lower, my lips brushing the thin trail of crimson hair that just touched his belly. I wedged my way between his thighs until he was completely bared to me—rose-tipped shaft rising from a nest of crimson curls with those heavy dragon stones beneath. I tickled his stones as I set my lips to the rosy tip, and Arach's moaning turned into a sharp roar.
I took the sound as encouragement and slid down on him to the base, tightening my lips and sucking a little. The scent of dragon and man exploded in my head, making me reel with wanting. I wouldn't be able to tease the Dragon King for as long as I'd hoped; I was already clenching my thighs and squirming in need. So, I moved faster over him until he was clutching at me, pulling on my hair and shoulders, trying to get me to straddle him.
“By the flame, A Thaisce, I need to sink into your sex this instant,” Arach growled as he sat up.
Oops, there went that lovely lethargy. Oh, shucks.
Arach's hands went to my waist to lift me and toss me backward. I went sprawling, and he took a moment to appreciate the position I'd landed in—legs bent and partially open. With a savage snarl and one sleek movement, he grabbed my knees and pushed them apart while he bent his head and licked me up my center. I moaned and spread my legs further, thighs shaking with pleasure.
Arach rose to his knees and laid his cock atop my sex. Keeping it in hand, he rubbed it over me, splitting me and making me shiver. Once he had me wet and writhing, he lowered the tip and pressed inside. My body welcomed him and spread around him anxiously. This was exactly what I needed—this aching oblivion. The dragon sank deep and pressed his pelvis to mine. We ground together—Arach lying above me while I wrapped my arms around his back to draw him even closer.
“There is no greater feeling than this,” Arach whispered in my ear. “Your sex tightening around mine, hot and wet, drawing me into you.” He lifted onto his forearms and started steadily thrusting. “Your hands on my ass, pulling me deeper. The rapturous tension that only grows more urgent with each thrust.”
“If you had been a little more patient, I would have spent all morning building that tension,” I teased him. “I wanted to lie between your legs and suck that glorious dragon dick until you came.”
Arach growled and pumped more powerfully, his eyes flaring with fire. Every slam shook the bed and vibrated throughout my whole body. I reached between us and rubbed myself but Arach snarled as he rose onto his knees, then pushed my hand away to replace it with his.
“Is this what you want?” His voice had gone even lower. “You want me to ru
b this pink bud while I fill you?”
“No,” I purred, surprising him. “I want you to fuck me while I rub myself and you watch.”
Arach's whole body twitched with the F word and he transferred his hand back to my thigh, then slid both of his palms beneath my ass. With his strong grip, he lifted me to meet every thrust, and I went back to touching myself. My husband's eyes fastened on my flicking fingers, his body tensing—muscles rippling and twitching. I watched his lips part on his heavy panting breaths, the tips of dragon fangs glinting. He was close. I rubbed faster.
Just as we were both cresting, Arach blew a stream of fire between us, right where we were connected, and the heat sent me blasting in orgasm, my screams combining with his roar. I kept my stare on him even as I climaxed, watching him throw back his head and arch his back as if accepting a divine gift. The morning light spotlighted him, adding to the illusion of a miracle. As his roar faded, he fell forward, then rolled onto his side to draw me up against his chest.
“Good morning, A Thaisce,” Arach rumbled with satisfaction.
“It is now.”
