by Ophelia Bell
“Help me,” he said to Sterlyn, moving to one end of one of the pair of sarcophagi and gripping the handles that protruded from the huge, golden effigy of Horus that rested atop the figure.
Recovered from his bout of nausea, Sterlyn nodded and moved to grip the handles at the figure’s feet. Together, they lifted the heavy cover and placed it on the ground nearby.
What Nikhil had thought was merely a statue with mystical properties offered new meaning now. The carved stone figure was a man lying prone. Majestic and graceful, he was easily as large as his dragon father. Nikhil’s nostrils flared with distaste at the reminder that this treasure Belah so wished to recover was none other than the child she’d borne to her terrifyingly powerful brother.
Still, Ked hadn’t been able to destroy Nikhil, and he now knew why. Only Belah’s flames could permanently damage him. What powers would this product of such an abominable union possess? How dangerous was this man?
He leaned over the figure’s face. It was serene and smooth, seemingly carved from stone Nikhil had believed to be obsidian. But now that he looked closer, he spied an inner luminescence, as though the stone in fact had pulsing blue veins beneath the surface.
The man’s arms rested by his side, his body entirely nude from head to toe, and his cock a thick and rigid length jutting at an angle up between his thighs.
If he could be awakened and convinced to join Nikhil’s cause, he might be a formidable weapon against the dragons—one that might convince Belah to stay with him forever. Nikhil began working out the argument in his mind, in which he convinced this man that he’d been abandoned by his own kind and rescued by Nikhil himself.
He studied the pedestal the figure lay upon, searching for some kind of symbol—some clue as to how he might revive the man.
“Sayid, can I be of help?”
Nikhil glanced up and realized he’d been cursing under his breath at finding nothing useful.
“I’m trying to figure out how to wake the bastard up,” Nikhil growled. “Do you have any ideas to share?”
Sterlyn’s gaze wandered to the man’s cock as though his eyes were a compass and the appendage represented true north. After a second, Sterlyn swallowed. “No, sir.”
Nikhil narrowed his eyes, certain for a second that his Elite knew something, but was guarding his thoughts. He only caught the glimmer of a phrase, “…wants a mate.” That meant little to Nikhil. Obviously, the man was ready to mate.
“I should have brought Marcus,” Nikhil spat. “He knows better than to waste my time.”
“Perhaps the female will have some clues,” Sterlyn offered, nodding at the second sarcophagus in the room.
Nikhil stood up with a grunt, and with Sterlyn at the other end of the effigy of Bastet, they removed the protective covering of the female statue and let it thunk onto the stone floor.
“What do you know of dragons, Sterlyn? Does that lover of yours ever tell you secrets?” Asking leading questions usually bore fruit, simply because most individuals couldn’t avoid thinking of exactly what they wished to keep a secret when asked. He’d tried it often enough with his Elites that they guarded their minds well when he was near, but occasionally, he could still break through.
“They are sent to hibernate when they come of age, and spend five centuries in a kind of petrified state. At least, that’s what Zamirah has told me. Then they awaken and assume the roles their parents filled while they slept, and their parents sacrifice themselves to grant the next generation a legacy of strong power.”
Sterlyn’s instant verbal response distracted Nikhil from his nosing through the man’s thoughts. He frowned.
“I’ve heard their hibernation story from every single dragon I’ve captured and tortured. None of them have shared a single clue about how they’re woken up. Do you know how impossible it is to extract information from a creature who exists purely to pleasure itself and others? All the fucking beasts ever want is sex.”
Not that he had anything against sex, himself. He just had no interest in having it with anyone but the woman he’d lost.
He stared at Sterlyn, hoping the man might display some kind of reaction, even if it were internalized, but Sterlyn only stared back impassively. Though the female between them was a perfect specimen—beautiful and ideally shaped—she was smaller than the male. Her figure was made from a pale lavender, and like her mate, she also sported a shimmering web of veins that glowed beneath the surface like multicolored fire.
Nikhil wondered if the duo were indeed a mated pair. Entranced by the female’s profile, he reached a hand out and gently brushed it down the bridge of her long, straight nose. His finger tingled from the touch, but he gained no new insight.
If he could awaken the male and hold the female hostage, that might provide some incentive for the male to do his bidding. But the female’s pedestal was similarly devoid of any kind of clue.
“Let’s go,” Nikhil said. His mood was foul and his head ached from the drifting they’d done. He just wanted to go back to his private chamber and make his plans for his week with Belah.
“Should we cover them back up?” Sterlyn asked when Nikhil reached out a freshly bloodied hand to him.
“No. I’ll be back, and with luck, when I return it will be to wake them up once and for all.”
Despite having no desire for sex for eons, Nikhil still reveled in his ability to affect women with his skills. He had no doubt that he would be able to extract the information he needed from Belah herself. She had always been forthcoming when he was torturing her with his cock. He hardened at the thought, and regretted yet again that he’d decided to make her wait.
Chapter Seven
Lukas had found Heaven.
It existed in every breath his lungs pushed through the mouthpiece of his saxophone, and in the sounds that came out the other end. The combined shift of the audience when the music started told him that he’d done well—that subtle lean or tilt of their heads, the rhythmic tap of a foot somewhere in the crowd. This particular club wasn’t the type of place for dancing, unlike the blues club his brother played at. The patrons came for the atmosphere of a jazz scene, which Lukas supplied them with in spades, his low, sultry notes laced with the tiniest bit of the North Wind that lived in his lungs.
It helped having an immortal spirit infusing his very being to attract fans—and lovers.
He never hit a wrong note, and could seduce a woman merely by playing the right song for her. But the second half of Heaven still eluded him—finding the perfect woman. Simply being able to seduce any woman he wanted didn’t make it easy to find the right one. And he should know, because he’d been looking for her for nearly two centuries.
Yet he kept trying, because Heaven wasn’t only music. The other half of Heaven meant finding the One. Only one woman in the entire world could be his true mate, and according to his grandmother, he would know her when he saw her. That didn’t mean he couldn’t find a distraction or two while he searched, though.
Tonight, his target was a lovely blonde at the cocktail table near the stage. She was seated with a pair of girlfriends who chattered back and forth constantly during the first set, but this young woman seemed like she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He threw her a glance and a smile in between solos. He’d test her with a few songs, then if she held true, he’d give her the full Lukas North treatment with the last song of the night, after which he’d take her home and enjoy the rest of his evening, hoping the next night the girl he found would be his one true mate.
It was still early, however. The band was only a few songs in, so his seduction was merely beginning. He released the mouthpiece for a breath and a quick sip of water, then secured his lips around it again, fingertips resting on the brass keys, worn smooth from constant use.
His fingers nearly slipped when she walked in—a dark-haired beauty with skin so luminescent it couldn’t belong
to a human woman. His lips parted and left the mouthpiece when his head turned to follow her through the room, unable to let his gaze dwell elsewhere. The blonde’s allure dimmed to insignificance.
Just in time, he gathered himself and hit his cue with the bassist’s heavy note. That note vibrated through him when she paused at her table, and lingered as she sat and closed her eyes, clearly entranced by the music.
Suddenly the beat he played to had nothing at all to do with the band. Their rhythm still guided him, but his true music—the music that came from his soul—was meant to match the beat of her heart.
He very nearly missed a note when he saw the glimmer of light in her eyes, and in the eyes of her male companion. Lukas recognized the third member of their party. His lips quirked into a smile at the sight of Erika Rosencrans, and he thought he understood. If any human woman he knew could snag a dragon for a mate, it was her.
His eyes were drawn back to the female dragon on Erika’s other side. Was his mesmerizing female part of a mated trio?
Fucking dragons, he thought, confused and trying to shake off the thought that this female he’d never seen in his life should be his. If he could entice a dragon female into hearing him play, he didn’t care about anything else. All he cared about was making sure she noticed him. Dragons had particular sexual appetites, and were very picky who they chose to share them with. He was simply honored that she was here in the audience. That was all.
But by the Winds, to have a night with her.
He hazarded a glance at Erika and the other dragon, trying to keep his focus on the music. The male, a huge Red dragon, hid his nature well with a close shave and clean haircut. The male dragon paused while the two females settled into the booth, then slid in beside Erika and bent to kiss her and sling an arm around her.
Lukas raised an eyebrow as their kiss continued. They were definitely a closely mated pair, from the looks of things. He glanced at the other woman in time to see her gaze linger longingly on the couple. And then the large Red rested a hand on Erika’s belly and whispered in her ear.
Their beautiful companion turned away and met Lukas’s eyes.
Blue, was all he could think. Her eyes were the first introduction, a vivid indigo. Her dress a deep, midnight-blue velvet that hugged every curve. Her hair a cascade of blue-black over creamy white shoulders. A pair of sapphires dangled from her ears, catching the light. The colors were only superficial to her mood, however, and he altered the key of his song to try to pick up that impression, knowing his bandmates would catch on.
He managed to keep up with the composition, but was grateful for a break to catch the breath she’d stolen.
She’s the One. Right here. Right now. Right the fuck in front of me. He would wager that his grandmother would agree, if she were here to witness how mesmerized he was.
But a Blue dragon? Fuck.
He’d been with a few dragons before. The higher races were allies, and he’d found a sense of camaraderie in their shared secrets, so it was always a relief when they found a friend in the crowd. Especially one he didn’t need to hide their true nature from when they went home together.
But this one … she was something else. He’d heard about how amazing Dragon Ascension season could be, but he hated what it meant for the rest of the higher races.
The Ultiori would be out in full force, hunting.
If these two were here, looking as young as they did, that meant it had begun. Maybe months ago, but this was his first clue. He wondered if his brother knew. Maybe there was another female dragon who was his brother’s true mate.
He cursed the dragons’ efficiency as much as he praised it. They were good at staying under the radar, if even his race didn’t know their new generation was awake. But the turul were good at keeping secrets too, and he’d been out of touch for most of the year.
None of that mattered when she moved, though.
She raised a glass as he finished the song. She was looking right at him, toasting him, and he was enraptured by her fingers on her glass, the slope of her arm, and the way her sweet, pink lips grasped the lip of the glass and drank, the line of her throat rippling as she swallowed.
He shook his head to dispel the sudden, sure instinct that he had to have her tonight. And forever. She was the One.
Dragons were complicated. Not like his race. The turul were simpler. They lived to fly, and cared about little else besides the wind and their music. The fact that they’d gotten tied up in deeper political issues didn’t sit well with him, even less so after his sister’s death fifty years earlier. He and his brother had managed to forgive the dragons in general—they hadn’t been the ones to kidnap and drain his sister’s blood in some barbaric ritual sacrifice. The Dragon Council, however—they were the ones responsible for the Ultiori’s existence. Those six immortal bastards could suck his cock.
No, the rest of the dragons he had no issue with. Far from it, if the look she was giving him was any indication. He’d dive bomb the Dragon Council if he could, but this pretty dragon woman … he’d save her from their constricting laws. Take her away to an Enclave. Make sure she never had to worry about their fucking laws again, or about the Ultiori who hunted them. The urge to save her, care for her, protect her, was so primal that his head throbbed with the compulsion as much as his dick throbbed with arousal at the very sight of her.
He played stronger at the understanding of that urge. The turul mated for life.
He’d been skeptical about the truth of it, despite seeing his brethren coupling with each other, or with humans. He’d been alive for a very long time without meeting the One, so long that he’d ceased believing in her. Maybe there was no one out there for him. Maybe Fate was playing a big joke on him, letting his friends have that connection, but never giving him the chance.
The heart wants what the heart wants, his best friend had told him on the day he’d wed his mate. But love at first sight was still a myth to Lukas, until now.
He had to finish the set before he could talk to her. Never had he wished so hard to not be playing his saxophone.
The instrument itself had been his only love for so long that even his bandmates joked about how he loved it more than sex. There was some truth to it. Lukas had never found as much pleasure in coupling as he’d found playing music on this instrument. He’d tried, with all of them. Humans were enticing, but ultimately too complicated and too shallow at the same time, oblivious to the reality of the world they lived in. Ursa were fun, and he tended to gravitate to them more often lately, mostly because they seemed to enjoy his brand of humor and loved being entertained. The nymphaea were a little too … female for him. Perhaps having no male aspect to speak of made them that way, after the satyrs had been hunted to extinction.
He loved women, but also loved men for their familiarity. And the women he was most attracted to were the ones with powerful personalities.
Like his blue lady’s friend … Lukas knew Erika well. He had very fond memories of her from when she’d hung around his and his brother’s band in the early days—though she’d spent most of that time in his cousin, Ozzie’s, bed. Erika had never known his cousin’s true nature. She wasn’t the woman for him, after all. But now it thrilled him to know she’d found a true mate in a dragon.
Lukas had always loved dragons. Perhaps it was their shared bond to the wind. The nymphaea could fly when they chose, but their true form was waterbound. The ursa were so tied to the earth that the sky was only of passing interest to them. Dragons craved the wind just like the turul did. Thrived on it. Air meant life for every creature, but the wind meant even more to his race. The North Wind was their deity—the one who gave them life. And she’d had an alliance with the Mother of Dragons since the beginning of time. Their fates were intertwined.
If only the Dragon Council weren’t total jackasses. If only one of them hadn’t fucked it all up for everyone. At least,
that had been the legend passed down since practically the dawn of time. One of them had made the mistake that had changed their entire world and created the monsters they were forced to hide from now.
He might forgive them entirely, if this newly ascended beauty could be his. He might forget that his race and many others had wound up the targets of the Ultiori after the dragons went to ground.
Lukas’s mood had been dark for several weeks over the same old thoughts, but lifted now that this woman was listening to him play what he’d always considered his mating song.
Chapter Eight
Belah closed her eyes, a little terrified by the effect the turul musician had on her. The music calmed her as much as it excited her. The notes that came out of that shining, golden instrument were as beautiful and primal as an ancient dragon’s song—music she and her siblings had made together at the beginning of time.
The eerie way it mimicked the rhythm from the song in her dreams surprised her. Now that she was hearing it in person, she was transported by it. It didn’t matter that a key rhythm seemed to be missing, as though a second instrument and the lyrics were left out, though she couldn’t place where they belonged—the song reached deep into her and wrapped around her soul, anyway.
She didn’t expect the sudden, aching need to be with this musician she now watched on stage, and the urge alarmed her. She could have chosen any man in the club Erika and Geva brought her to, but the man on stage was the one who captured her attention. And he was playing for her now; she could tell by the way his gaze never left hers the entire time. The sultry sounds he produced tickled her ears, then went straight to her core.
The humans in this club were all just as charmed by the music. But as empowering as being here was—seeing her effect on the men around her, especially—the effect of the music on her did just the opposite. The turul’s focus gave her that same weightless sensation of surrender she’d felt so long ago with Nikhil, before he’d been perverted by his darkness. It wasn’t a sense of being revered—worshiped—like other lovers. The music sank soul-deep into her, possessing her the way the wind did when she flew. But unlike the sensation of her surrender to Nikhil, there was no underlying sense of twisted need from the man on stage. The message was simple: I can carry you away, if you let me.
