To Save The Broken Heart: Dragons, Griffons and Centaurs, Oh My! (Dragons, Griffons, and Centaurs, Oh My!)

by Margaret Taylor

  He’d been fortunate that Myra had stumbled across him when she did as a kit…

  And Neither-Born’s never mated. At least not within the Pride. Outside of it was fine, but the few he’d heard of that had, didn’t return home or bring their intended before the Alpha for recognition.

  As an Abomination, it just wasn’t done in the belief that any off-spring would be automatically Neither-Born as well.

  He’d long ago resigned himself to a lonely, fatherless existence. Oh sure, he’d had plenty of females under his furs, especially after Draven had become King, but they always had the ulterior motive of getting close to him as a means to an end. And that end, was usually an attempt to catch the King’s eye and maybe his hearts…

  It never worked, of course, Draven’s one true Mate hadn’t even been born yet and came from another world entirely. And now that they were together he had no doubt at all, his friend’s eye would never stray again.

  He thought, at first, Terra’s twin sister Lanni, would be his one true Mate. But now, with Haydn’s desire laced scent still coiling through his nostrils, he wasn’t so sure. It called to him, swelling his chest with a protective instinct he didn’t quite know what to do with, especially considering his current situation.

  He actually raged at it, unable to stop himself.

  He should be taking care of her, not the other way around!

  The clink of the knife on top of the cage jerked him out of his thoughts. She’d apparently gotten whatever she was thinking under control and the scent lessened, tightening a knot of disappointment around his hearts.

  Clearing her throat, she dipped a rag into the first bucket and added some sweet smelling soap. She started with his shoulders and being careful of his still healing wounds, slowly ran the warm water over his skin. She twirled it down his chest, across the tattoos of his status, his sides and his stomach. Instead of rinsing when it was filthy, she simply picked up another and repeated the process.

  Her gentle touch roamed across hips, avoiding his rock-hard length and down his thighs…

  And it was the most erotic bath he’d ever had!

  His body continued to respond, filling his dick until he thought he’d explode then and there.

  She never touched it, but oh how he wished she would! Just a brush of the cloth in her hand would be enough, just a minute wisp against it and he’d embarrass himself.

  Not that he cared. He just wanted it to end so he could think straight again. So he could seethe and plot and plan and not be filled with notions of a Mate!

  For one brief instant, he wanted to hate her for this sweet torture, he really did. But then he opened his eyes and caught hers through the bars.

  Her lids had dropped and she panted softly as she worked him over. He gulped, the hard metal at his throat pressing deep. He strained to get his arms near the ache between his legs and finish it, but there wasn’t enough slack in the chains.

  He moaned, deep and low when she sat back and picked up the other bucket. He half hoped the water was cool enough to end his suffering. He stifled that notion when her hand slipped under the bottom and began to glow.

  She watched the surface for several heartbeats then removed her hand. Upending the bucket down the length of the cage, she rinsed away the soap. The newly warmed water left him feeling clean for the first time in too many rotations to count and gratitude for her thoughtfulness was almost enough to override his desire.

  Setting the buckets aside, her bright eyes dropped to his hips and she licked her lips. She knelt next to the cage and her tentative fingers splayed across his thigh.

  “Would you like me to…help you?”

  Would he ever! But more than that, he wanted her to join him too! She should have the same amount of pleasure and if the glow in her eyes was an indication, she wanted it just as much as he did. He strained his hands against the ropes holding them tight to the bars. As before they didn’t move or slip free and he growled.

  Her gaze shifted to what he was doing and when they came back they were bright with a sadness not lost on him. She squeezed his thigh gently and her next words skittered across his hearts. “I know,” she whispered. “Someday.”

  Hopefully sooner rather than later, but he’d take it. He relaxed, sighing softly and nodded in response to her earlier question.

  He certainly couldn’t release the tension himself, not like this, so what choice did he have?

  She understood and her fingers slid closer, brushing the tip of his length before wrapping around it. Her still warm flesh was almost enough to send him immediately over the edge and he closed his eyes, shifting up against her palm as much as he could.

  She stroked down, slowly, increasing the torture and he shuddered from head to toe. He was so close, so very close to making an utter fool of himself but he didn’t rightly care.

  He’d been tortured before but never like this and he didn’t know if he wanted to hate or love her for it…

  ***

  Haydn watched his face. His eyes closed and his hips jerked wildly and for just a moment, hate tried to override the desire he’d inspired. Heat she thought long dead pooled between her legs and she shifted her thighs to ease the pressure.

  It didn’t help, but she’d handle that particular problem in her room later. Right now, she needed to keep Arin’s focus on what has happening between his own legs. If she could do that, then maybe he’d relax and be willing to listen to her plan…

  It was a last ditch effort to counter what she saw in his eyes nearly every tick she visited. And this was no guarantee, but if he was willing to go along, they both might get out of this alive.

  If not, well, she’d worry about a secondary plan later.

  What she didn’t expect was her own reaction.

  He was handsome, yes, gorgeous in fact with his golden eyes, golden mane of hair, snout and black tattoos on his chest, but there was more than just the physical to this man.

  There was something in the shimmering pools of burnished gold, a brief glimpse of strength that managed to poke through the rage now and again. And gratitude, though whether it was for her care or something else, she couldn’t know. But it was there and it made her want to go against everything she knew to help him.

  Help him escape. Help him live. Just help…

  In order to do that though, he’d need reason and logic. It was the only way.

  She gave one final stroke and his entire body tensed. He growled deep in his chest and his fingers tightened around the rungs. A tremble of release raced down his body and his head flopped back against the cage, the golden pools she’d just been admiring rolling back until they turned white.

  He dragged the air into his lungs, breathing as deeply as the metal on his face allowed and she used her free hand to unsnap the muzzle. Easing it off, his snout opened and she almost laughed when his tongue lolled out.

  Pulling her hand from his thighs, she cleaned it with one of the rags she’d used to bathe him earlier then gently did the same for his semi-hard manhood and stomach.

  He came around, his voice still a harsh croak lack of use and now had a breathless quality she found a little too enamoring. “Thank you.”

  She dropped the rag back to the pile and curled a hand around his cheek, brushing his whiskers. “My pleasure.”

  He turned into her palm and his tongue darted out to lick it. “I did not mean for that, to happen.”

  There was a ping of regret in those words and her heart tripped over itself. “I know. But I could not leave you, like that.”

  He leaned into her hand. “It is appreciated.” A chuckle rumbled across the deep shadows. “I truly might have gone mad if you had.” He blinked several times and lifted his face, bringing his eyes around to lock with hers. “Might I know something?”

  She let her forearm dangle over a rung. “Yes?”

  “What do they intend for me?”

  Oh boy. This was, again, one of those moments she could lie and hope she didn’t get caught
in it, or be completely honest and face the consequences.

  This time, she chose honesty.

  “Do you know what they call you? My people that is.”

  She heard the frown in his reply. “Your people? The Orcs?”

  “Yes.” She drew in a steadying breath. “You are the Abomination of Dumog.”

  “I am?”

  She leaned against the cage, unable to bring herself to touch him again even though she desperately wanted too. “You commanded the troops during the last Great War, did you not?”

  A rustle followed and she could just make out his head nodding.

  “A battalion of your men attacked a village called Dumog. Many innocent women and children were slaughtered. 400 souls were burned alive, Arin,” she said, using his name for the first time.

  His gulp was audible and palpable in the silence. “I, I,” he stammered. “I did not know.”

  She traced the curved lines of his tattoo. “I believe you.”

  Like most of her people, she’d been raised to hate this man, had wanted to see him flayed alive the second he’d been transferred aboard The O’lu and stored in their hold.

  Then she’d looked into his eyes.

  And she hadn’t seen The Warlord, or The Butcher, or The Abomination or any of the other half-a-dozen names her people had for him. While there had been hate and rage and fury in the golden iris’, it was for the circumstances not her people. Unlike the stories she’d grown up with, lived by even as a set of principles, he wasn’t an evil being.

  He was just a man. And one that she would, inexplicably, do everything in her power to save.

  “They are going to kill you, Arin,” she said finally. “When we arrive in Golbu, you will be taken to the Arena and you will be forced to fight to the death.”

  ***

  Arin strained against the ropes holding his hands to the rungs.

  Haydn had left the knife she’d used to cut his away clothing on top of the cage after imparting that bit of news. If he could just get ahold of it, he might be able to escape…

  His pinky scraped the tip and it inched closer. He didn’t think he could free himself completely, but having use of his hands would make a world of difference.

  “Please, do not.”

  He hung his head and relaxed his fingers away from the blade. It’d been nearly a full rotation since he’d last seen her and she’d, done what she did. His body hadn’t betrayed him again but he was bored during the daylight and given in to it by trying to get the knife.

  Haydn strode across the hold, scooped it up and tucked it in her pocket.

  Flagnock!

  She unsnapped the muzzle. Sliding it off his face, she cut a look at his hands. “I am sorry, Arin, truly. But, if I free anything else, Oda will lash you to the mast and beat you until we arrive.”

  He gulped back the drool and almost told her that would be preferable, but kept it to himself. “I had to try.”

  She smiled and settled next to the cage. “I know. I would have thought less of you if you did not.”

  “Did you leave it on purpose? So I would?”

  She chuckled and held a piece of meat up to his lips. “No. I honestly forgot about it.”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “How much longer until we arrive?”

  Her brows dipped and she held out more food. “Eight rotations.”

  That wasn’t long and not having the ability to move much of late, he wasn’t all that confident in his chances to survive the arena for long. “Is that why you have been caring for me?”

  She nodded, her braid swishing against the deck. “That is one reason, yes.”

  “And the other?”

  She huffed out a breath hard enough to reach his bound arms. “I think you can help me too.”

  He took another bite off her fingers. “I can?”

  Her eyes dropped away. “You can.”

  He wasn’t sure about that, but felt compelled to know more. “Why?”

  Her chest expanded slowly then deflated on a sigh. “Twelve Suns ago I was sold by the Phoenix slavers to Chieftain Zuor.”

  He blinked in surprise. Once you were a slave to a Phoenix, you died a slave. They rarely sold their property, preferring to keep their captives hard at work in their roosts and lava mines. They lived in the northeast quadrant of the Third Kingdom, having taken up residence around the six active volcanos in the area ages ago. They rarely ventured beyond it, using various other creatures they’d tamed to seek out fresh meat or rather people to tend to their needs.

  “Why?”

  Indecision glowed in her eyes and she fed him several more bites before answering. “He needed an assassin.”

  Well, that explained several things.

  The way she moved to start. She was silent yet graceful. And she never spared anything. Each step, each placement of her hands, her fingers, was calculated. He hadn’t noticed before due to his own misery but thinking back on it, he should have seen all the signs.

  He took another morsel from her fingers. “And who did he want you to kill?”

  A half-smile lifted her full lips and there was no mistaking the honesty in her tone. “You.”

  He almost spat the food from his mouth!

  She laughed when he paused and reached in to gently massage his throat. “If I wanted to kill you, Arin, I have had ample opportunity.”

  That was true. He’d have never known it either, which only churned at the meat in his gut. “Fair enough. So, what do you want from me?”

  Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, tears pooling on the lower lids. “I need to kill you.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Lanni Heegan knelt next to the waterline on the very edge of the beach camp. Keeping one eye over her shoulder for any of the guards and the other on the waves dancing along in the light from the twin half-moons and answered the question. “Not in the slightest. But, if we’re going to have any sort of shot at all of stopping the bastard, we’re going to need the help, yes?”

  Furiem paced across the sand, worry pinching lines in his forehead. “I suppose.”

  She sighed. “Do you have a better idea to get it?”

  The little ferret cleared his throat. “I do not.”

  “Then hush and let’s do this.”

  He harrumphed softly and turned toward the trees in the distance. “Very well. But be back before first daylight. Otherwise…”

  She waved a hand. “Yeah, I know. They’ll figure it out. Now go!” she hissed.

  Another harrumph but he dropped to all fours, racing away toward the jungle.

  She waded out into the water, swimming along after her feet no longer touched the bottom. It was a simple plan really, one that might border on ingenious if it wasn’t utterly cracked at the same time.

  But what choice did they have?

  None, none at all. It was either this, or sit back and let Golix do whatever it was he was going to do.

  From her experiences so far, that would be a very bad thing…

  Ducking under a series of small waves, she surfaced, blew the air completely out of her lungs, sucked in a great big one and dove. Going as deep as she could, she closed her eyes and once again, opened her mind. Trying not to chuckle over the similarity to a cartoon she’d seen once in a vid, she reached out for any sea life in the area.

  Furiem assured her most of the creatures around were harmless. According to him there were dolphins, whales, various and sundry fish and even stingrays.

  She expected any one of them to answer her impromptu summons.

  What she didn’t expect and got, was a female on a seahorse.

  She wasn’t a mermaid though.

  No, more of a cross between some sort of Amazon Warrior Princess and one of the Naiad’s Grandpa Tom had spoken of when she was a child. Her blonde hair had been twisted into braids and circled her head. Her armor gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the water and her sword and shield caught a beam, nearly b
linding her.

  Her deep sea-blue eyes drifted up and down in a frank look. “Hello. Do you need to be rescued?”

  The words were a bit garbled underwater, but clear enough. She laughed, releasing what little air was left in her lungs. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she pointed toward the surface.

  The Princess nodded and gave the reins in her hand a gentle twist.

  Surfacing, Lanni drew in a lungful of air, spit out sea-water and coughed. Treading, she smiled as the woman joined her. “Sorry,” she coughed a second time. “No, I don’t need rescuing, but I could use some help. You wouldn’t happen to be friends with any whales or anything, would you?”

  The woman smiled a bit, her blue eyes twinkling. “As a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

  Lanni spoke in a rush. “See, there’s this evil unicorn,” she began. “And then they brought me here,” she finished roughly ten minutes later.

  “You were dead?” was the woman’s first question.

  She laughed. “Mostly dead, there’s a difference ya know.”

  “I see that,” she acknowledged then smiled. “What can I do to help?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind directing me toward some of your whale friends, I can take it from there.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “Are you sure? Whales can be fickle beasts when they are of a mind to be.”

  She’d never thought about it like that, but put confidence in her tone. If this power of hers worked like it had with Dinsa, she should be fine. “I’m sure.”

  “Very well then. I will gather them and return on the next darkfall.”

  Lanni twisted enough to see back to the beach. It would have to do. From what she could tell, only about half the ships anchored in the waves were ready, if that, so a day shouldn’t be too bad. Especially if Furiem was successful on his errand…

  She turned back. “Thank you.”

  The woman started to dip beneath the gentle waves but Lanni called her back. “Hey, do you know the ships that travel these waters?”